No hard questions put to FG Vincent Browne

There are some good things to say about the three-hour television documentary series on Fine Gael. It was not the disgrace that the five-hour documentary series on Des O'Malley was. It was nicely filmed, writes Vincent Browne

There were some good bits of reality TV and, within the ambit that was set for it "a family at war", it was OK. But not a single new fact in three hours of television current affairs? No new insight. Loads of pulled punches.

A three-hour documentary series on Fine Gael that never mentions the most curious feature of the party's recent history, its financing, is, frankly, disappointing. Fine Gael was bankrupt in late 1994. Within a year it was flush with cash. Coinciding with this transformation of its financial position was its entirely unexpected return to government on the self-destruction of the Albert Reynolds-led coalition with Labour.

Money that previously shunned Fine Gael now flowed into its coffers, and throughout the three hours of television no one asked how this happened and what was given in return.

There was no exploration of the feverish money-raising activities of Alan Dukes and John Bruton. Nothing of the cosy dinner in Barberstown Castle involving Ben Dunne, Alan Dukes and their spouses. Nothing of the lush luncheon in the K Club in November 1994 involving Michael Smurfit and John Bruton, within two days of Bruton becoming Taoiseach.

Nothing of the suppliant visit to the Castleknock home of Ben Dunne by John Bruton, accompanied by Michael Lowry. Nothing about the Ben Dunne cash cow from which Michael Lowry milked money for candidates around the country in the early 1990s. Nothing of the extraordinary initiative in the late 1990s whereby rich people who contributed to Fine Gael's finances were to be invited to contribute to party policy.

The £50,000 Telenor cheque was mentioned but only in the context of the embarrassment it caused to Michael Noonan. No questions about what was going on then, why the Moriarty tribunal had been kept in the dark about it, what the late party trustee had been up to?

Yes, Lowry was featured and the embarrassment he has proved to be to the party was mentioned (actually overstated). But, having persuaded Lowry to talk on camera, why was the opportunity wasted by not asking him about Fine Gael's finances? Similarly with Dukes and Bruton. Current affairs television, even public service broadcasting, does allow asking the odd tough, relevant question.

An exploration of the recent history of Fine Gael offered the chance of an exploration of the nexus of politics and money here. Instead, we were regaled with the tittle-tattle of internal party feuding, feuding devoid of politics, devoid of substance, full of fear and personal ambition.

Not a single hard question asked of the array of Fine Gael luminaries (apologies for the oxymoron) lined up for soft-soaping. It might also have been of interest to explore why Noonan's brief tenure as leader proved so disastrous. He was (is) a clever adroit politician, so what went wrong?

The series might also have explored Enda Kenny. There is an embarrassed public suspicion that there isn't much to Enda Kenny. In a three-hour documentary series on Fine Gael we might have found out. But that, too, was avoided.

The makers of this documentary series and Fine Gael itself seemed not to have cottoned on to the obvious fact that when the party was left of centre it gained votes, when it drifted into right of centre it lost votes. When the party was led by Garret FitzGerald it had by far its most impressive electoral success.

The only other upturn in its fortunes in recent times was when it emerged from a left-of-centre coalition government with Labour and Democratic Left in 1997. You would think someone might twig that its most promising strategy electorally is to be left of centre. Instead the party has been hauled rightwards by its instincts and traditions (anti-Traveller, anti-refugee, anti-fairness except rhetorically, and the law-and-order guff), and there lie its problems.

It might also have been interesting to explore whether it matters if Fine Gael survives or not, and, indeed, what its prospects of survival are. RTÉ has possession of a rich resource that tells us much about Irish politics: its exit poll at the last election that gives socio-economic breakdown of party support, voting trends over the last few elections, and age profiles of party support. It might have lent some substance to the series.

The response of the documentary-makers to these remarks may be that what was commissioned was an exploration of the personal feuds within Fine Gael over the last decade. I am sure that is so. But why was it so? Why does a major current affairs series have to be so vacuous? Why commission a series on Fine Gael that avoids the major issues, especially when such major issues go to the heart of current politics? And is current affairs television so dumbed down that the use of mood-altering sound effects is de rigueur? Is there no debate even over the justifiability of such an editorially prejudicial device in what is supposed to be "objective" reportage?