THREE weeks ago the editor of the Sunday Business Post, Damien Kiberd, commented on the animosity directed at Dick Spring "by certain elements in the media".
It was, he wrote, unjustified and unfair by any standards, and it was not supported by any examination of the facts. He found it "quite baffling".
As Brian Farrell would say: "Oh, come now, Damien. Baffled. Surely not. You are, after all, the editor of the only Sunday newspaper published here which Tony O'Reilly does not own."
Indeed, the only thing to be baffled about is which of the O'Reilly interests has been disturbed by the Tanaiste's presence in government.
Is it Independent Newspapers? Or the mining company, Arcon? Or Waterford Wedgwood? Could it be MMDS?
Dr O'Reilly once confided his version of the much debated relationship between business and politics - and the less frequently discussed place of newspaper proprietors in both - in an aside to Forbes magazine.
It seems that during the oil rush of the early 1980s his geologist had chosen six blocks of seabed for exploration. It was up to the government to issue the licences.
"Since I own 35 per cent of the newspapers in Ireland," Dr O'Reilly explained, "I have close contact with the politicians. I got the blocks he [the geologist] wanted."
He owns a much greater share of the Republic's newspapers now. The Independent group publishes two thirds of the 546,000 Irish papers sold daily, 95 per cent of the 755,000 sold on Sundays, and 10 substantial regional weeklies.
This represents a breathtaking dominance, such as Rupert Murdoch might envy; it makes possible a degree of political influence that some democratically elected - and accountable - leaders never achieve.
But it's not until the giant emerges, red in tooth and claw, to attack two of the partners in the tripartite government as though they had no right to be there that the rest of the media sit up and take notice.
OF course, it may be; that the O'Reillys of this world would prefer if the Springs and their friends in Labour and Democratic Left were excluded from power in any shape or form, in this or any other state.
Whatever the answer to this or any of the questions raised above, the animosity is undeniable. And if proof were needed, the editorial published on page 1 of the Irish Independent on Thursday was incontrovertible.
"For years we have been bled white - now it's payback time," bawled the headline, in passable imitation of the Sun in the days when loadsamoney was its catchery. The attitude was threadbare Thatcherism, the stuff that went down well with the macho crowd in the Shelbourne bar in the 1980s.
The editorial patronised John Bruton, claimed to know what was best for those on welfare, and all but denied the right of Labour and DL to share power.
What it found most objectionable was the fact that the top rate of income tax was not being cut: "This is bad for the economy. It is also undemocratic. Two parties in the Coalition enjoyed a degree of power and significance far beyond what their electoral support warrants."
Not true. Labour and DL commanded over 22 per cent of popular support in 1992 and at the dissolution of the Dail held 38 (or 45.2 per cent) of the Government's 84 seats.
And there is a clear inconsistency between the paper's demand for financial rectitude and a loadsamoney payback in the same breath.
P.J. Mara, who just happens to be both an adviser to Independent Newspapers and Fianna Fail's director of elections, will have no difficulty explaining the contradictions to all and sundry.
Not that he's likely to be asked about contradictions by most journalists, who - with a few honourable exceptions - displayed a remarkable coyness during the campaign just ended.
The few questions that were raised - about the Lowry affair or hepatitis C - were repeated again and again. Usually in the same form, with the same results.
OF course, some senior politicians seemed to have been limited, or chose to limit themselves, to a sentence or two at a time, while others simply disappeared from sight when the campaign began and haven't been seen since.
Bertie Ahern became the leader who rose without trace.
But it wasn't only the politicians who were to blame for the fact that, apart from the debates between party leaders, the election failed for much of the time to generate a great deal of interest.
The media, too, are responsible. Many appeared to know little or nothing of the issues or the different visions of the competing coalitions. Instead, they complained of boredom and did nothing at all to relieve it.
John Bowman spoke in an interview with Eileen Battersby the other day of the exploitation of politics as entertainment. He approached the subject with characteristic restraint:
"I do resent the way some broadcasters with very little interest in politics only highlight the scandals and encourage cynicism."
What he might have said was that some of his well heeled colleagues, notably but not only Gay Byrne and Pat Kenny, keep up an endless whine of obsessive complaint about politics, tax and crime.
Worse still, those who are responsible for the station's current affairs and news, with a few decent exceptions, seem to have decided that this is a suitable diet for listeners in search of information and stimulation.
Someone must have told many of those engaged in election coverage that the surest way of staying out of trouble was to keep it trivial. Ask a trivial question and you can hardly expect an earthshaking answer.
But on turning to Radio Ireland for novelty, if not relief, who should I find but Sam Smyth of the Independent explaining that he couldn't vote for FG, Labour or DL because he was so committed to the freedom of the press.
One of the biggest obstacles to press freedom here is Independent Newspapers itself.
Meanwhile the Association of Independent Radio Stations - those meant to give a voice to the regions in the 1990s but sounding as though they're either rooted in the 1950s or stranded in mid Atlantic - has had to withdraw a letter urging regular endorsement of FF and the PDs during the campaign.
The order came from the IRTC. Now, if they'd been obliged to Middle Abbey Street or Pittsburgh, their gratitude would have known no bounds.