The Rockefeller of raffles, the Chuck Feeney of tombolas

As fast as Bertie Ahern got money, he spent it all on parish draws and raffles, writes Miriam Lord Tribunal sketch

As fast as Bertie Ahern got money, he spent it all on parish draws and raffles, writes Miriam Lord Tribunal sketch

The planning tribunal is no stranger to the "personal political donation". It's been down that road before with a certain Raphael P Burke.

Many years ago, former minister Ray thrilled audiences at Dublin Castle with tales of his peregrinations around north Co Dublin, dispensing largesse wherever he went. He described his political and personal lives as "seamless", with money for both often going into the same accounts, or pockets.

Rambo, as he was known, had a fund of "walking around money" to pay for drinks after funerals, pensioners' parties, boy scout uniforms and the like.

READ MORE

Seamless. Ray was Fianna Fáil. Fianna Fáil was Ray. But the money had to come from somewhere. Political donations, sometimes in brown envelopes that were the width of a brick.

No suggestion of fat envelopes where Bertie Ahern is concerned. However, just like Ray, he doesn't recognise financial seams either.

How can he? As Taoiseach and leader of Fianna Fáil, he pointed out that people who want to donate to the party regularly make their cheques out to "Bertie Ahern". How can he be expected to be answerable for all those transactions? But there were times when money given to him as a political donation ended up in an account which might not, on the face of it, look like the natural destination for such a contribution.

When a person gives him a cheque for, say, £5,000 to support the democratic process, it may not go straight into a Fianna Fáil party account. The Taoiseach wants to be clear that this money is always ultimately used for the benefit of the party.

Bertie is Fianna Fáil, and Fianna Fáil is Bertie.

In the case of Rambo, he disbursed funds to the drink-mad pensioners of Fingal and made sure the local scouts never went short of a woggle. In Bertie's case, the money goes on raffle tickets.

"Most weekends, I mean, I could spend four or five hundred euros in any weekend around the country in draws for cars, for clubs, for organisations," the Taoiseach revealed.

"I have to use my own personal money to do that." So even if somebody gave him a donation and said "that's for you, take it" he would "still end up using it". On raffle tickets.

Some of us who have trailed Bertie around the country over the years were under the impression he follows the example set by the queen of England and never carries money. However, quietly and out of sight, he has been handing out about €25,000 a year to good causes. (Although maybe he let it slip to the review body on top-level pay when they were deciding what size of a pay rise to give him.)

Unbeknownst to the wider public until yesterday's tribunal, Bertie is the Chuck Feeney of the Tombola, the Rockefeller of the Raffle.

Back in 1993, he used a political donation of five grand to open a new building society account. He set it up because he wanted to get himself "moving" and work towards getting himself a house. He was an impoverished minister for finance at the time with just under a hundred thousand pounds in ready cash to start himself off.

"It was a political donation for my personal use," he explained.

Tribunal lawyer Des O'Neill was fascinated. How did he manage to work that out? "I don't want to get into a top of a needle about that," he shrugged. However, the Taoiseach is nearly sure he knows the name of the businessman who gave him that money.

Unfortunately, he is 100 per cent sure the man is dead.

Some members of the public gallery found this sad news most amusing.

Then there was another five grand which he can't pin down either. But again, he is almost sure it came from "the brudder". He worked this out very recently, but not before he told his forensic accountant, Des Peelo, that he hadn't an earthly where it came from.

This new mortgage account was of interest to the tribunal because of the unexplained €5,000 lodgements. There was also a €7,000 lodgement which the inquiry tried not to ask him about yesterday.

With a heavy heart, sighing, his voice thickening with emotion, Bertie told them anyway. It was from his mother, part of the proceeds of his late father's estate.

The tribunal fell over itself in insisting it didn't want to pry.

"I don't know what relevance this has to do with you, Mr O'Neill," bristled Bertie, having brought up the subject.

"I didn't ask my mother," he sniffed, "and I can't ask her now." For she too has now passed away.

We fell to wondering which Fianna Fáil politician would be the first out of the traps to attack the tribunal for their prurient interest in the family affairs of an orphan.

There was a disjointed feeling to the cross-examination, which wandered between a diverse set of accounts relating to the Taoiseach's personal finances and the wider accounts kept by his local party organisation.

The Ray Burke seamless approach was to the fore. But neither the Taoiseach, nor his legal team, are in any mood to explore the link.

It's a very complicated business, made more difficult by what appeared to be a marked reluctance on Ahern's part to divulge information about his constituency operation. And yet, the distinction between these bewildering accounts and the Taoiseach's personal finances and friends seemed somewhat blurred.

It was heavy going, but Bertie made it more interesting by explaining that St Luke's was built on "four rafts", was riddled with damp and nearly slid into the Tolka. A lot of money was spent to rectify the problem.

But none of it came from the St Luke's contingency account, controlled by the Taoiseach's friend Tim Collins.

Thirty thousand pounds was withdrawn from it to help three "aged" and "frightened" women who risked losing their home, said Bertie. The money was to be repaid. Which it was, after the tribunal started poking its nose into things.

The Taoiseach is back today, when Des O'Neill will continue to try and unpick the seams between the public and private. He has few records to go on.

Here's a typical exchange from yesterday - Bertie: "But personally, as an individual, somebody giving you a donation saying if it's for your use, and I wouldn't have many of those in my records because they would be recorded in the records. You wouldn't get many of those, but as I said, I cannot verify who that was." Des: "Yes, and the reason that you cannot verify it is that you didn't keep any records of this type of payment."

Bertie: "No."