One year on, the Fianna Fáil/ Progressive Democrat alliance is in dire need of an injection of life, writes Mark Hennessy, Political Correspondent
Given the poor ratings the Government has enjoyed, it was inevitable that the publication of its annual verdict on its own performance this week would provoke a storm of abuse and criticism.
Nevertheless, the scale of the onslaught unleashed has left some inside the corridors of power dazed and feeling misunderstood. Worse, it has heightened a developing sense of paranoia.
Just a year on, the Government is clearly in difficulties. The perception that the voters were conned in last year's general election already appears to have entered the folk memory. If it has, it will be extremely difficult to remove it.
From the very moment they took up office, the men and women around the Cabinet table knew that they were going to be in for difficult times in the first two years of the administration. They knew because the Minister for Finance, Mr McCreevy, told them so during their first meeting in Farmleigh while the seals of office from the President, Mrs McAleese, were still warm in their hands.
The plan was good, and simple. Restrain spending quickly, increase revenue where possible and wait for the international economy to bounce back. So far, the latter has signally failed to do so.
Though Mr McCreevy's warning was intended to stiffen the spines of colleagues, it has had, perhaps, the opposite effect: creating a dangerous "comfort factor" that things will come right in the end.
Politics, however, is rarely filled with such inevitable currents. Former British prime minister Mr John Major was doomed once sterling fell to speculators in September 1993 during the "Black Wednesday" convulsions. Once it was over, the Conservatives' claim to being better economic managers than their opponents was ended. Even though his term ended with a benign economy, Mr Major was never given a second chance.
Regardless of election promises, the Cabinet is not working well. It lacks cohesion, drive and a unity of purpose, rarely seeming to discuss issues in the depth necessary.
For months the Minister for Education, Mr Dempsey, trumpeted his third-level fee plans. Never once did a colleague raise a warning flag, until the issue exploded in their laps late last month.
The personality of the Taoiseach, Mr Ahern, lies at the heart of some of the difficulties. Blessed with a talent for conciliation and negotiation, Mr Ahern is not a man to lead.
"He lets ministers do their job. He gives freedom to his people," said one figure who has benefited from Mr Ahern's style. The style works fine with people who work. It works less well with those who do not. The performing ministers are few in number. "There is a sense that this is not a joined-up government, a lack of cohesion. Everybody accepts it is a problem on some scale. Nobody seems to know how to fix it," The Irish Times was told by one source.
Though it is an old complaint, the workload is not shared evenly between ministers. "It is ridiculous to pay Micheál Martin and Michael Smith the same money.
"You could run the Department of Defence with a half-an-hour telephone call from Nenagh. And that isn't to criticise Michael. You can't spend what you haven't got," said one colleague.
A key sign that troubles are about comes when politicians start to moan privately, as they do now, over a pint in Doheny and Nesbitts about the difficulties they face getting the Civil Service to do as they are told. It has been ever thus. The mandarins have always had their own agenda. Usually, it did not bother Fianna Fáil so much as it has traditionally looked upon the Civil Service as "its" Civil Service.
However, the mandarins wield major influence. Bertie Ahern's most trusted adviser is not any other politician, but rather the Secretary to the Department of the Taoiseach, Mr Dermot McCarthy.
The situation is not unknown for second-term administrations, as this one is: "Most of the really important things that Bertie is involved in: the North, the European Union, social partnership are issues involving officials, not ministers," said one source.
The Minister for Finance, Mr McCreevy, is the Cabinet's Titan and not just because he holds the purse strings. "He will put it up to Bertie. And Bertie shies away. He is not comfortable with it," said one figure.
The Cabinet's dynamic was partially decided by Mr McCreevy before it was ever formed last year after he pushed for Michael Smith to be retained and, to a lesser extent, for Joe Walsh. "People like Smith and Walsh are on their last lap. Most would say that they should have gone the last time. But they are a counterweight to spending ministers such as Micheál Martin and Noel Dempsey," said one source.
Faced with difficult issues, the Cabinet divides down on ideological rather than on party lines during the debate that takes place upon them. Votes, naturally, are avoided.
The Taoiseach; Mr McCreevy; Mr Cowen; the Tánaiste, Ms Harney; Mr McDowell; Mr Cullen and Mr Brennan tend to find themselves on the same side of arguments - though not always. This loose grouping attracts the support of Mr Walsh and Mr Smith, while, on the other side of the fence, lie Mr Martin, Mr Dempsey, Mr Dermot Ahern, Ms Mary Coughlan and Mr Eamon Ó Cuiv.
The "good performers" are few: Seamus Brennan, Dermot Ahern, and Martin Cullen. Cowen is well regarded in Foreign Affairs, a place where a leader-in-waiting may safely graze safe from political enemies. Unlike some of his colleagues, Cullen seems to be simply enjoying the challenge, regardless of the spending difficulties. "I can't do everything, but I can do a lot," he has told some.
The Minister for Justice, Equality and Law Reform, Mr McDowell, has promised much, but, so far, delivered little. Still, it is but the end of the first year of this Government's life. He has time, and plenty of it, as long as he starts to move relatively quickly. Nevertheless, many are still divided on whether he is a genuinely radical politician, or a monumental political bluffer.
Brennan, who was never the most eager of beavers during his previous periods in Cabinet, is operating as a man possessed, desperately seeking to leave a legacy. "The guy is working himself to death," said one politician admiringly, if with a little surprise - though some of Brennan's good standing has as much to do with a talent for PR as for delivering promises.
Given that he is in charge of large parts of the National Development Plan, which is late, escalating in price, and causing chaos as it arrives, Mr Brennan's success in enhancing his reputation is all the more remarkable.
Few of those who have been quick to notice differences in the relationship this time between FF and the PDs, believe the Government's declaration that this has been the first year of five. The Progressive Democrats are far less sure of their ground, and of the truthfulness of what they are being told by their coalition colleagues, compared with the last administration.
Low-level sniping is back in vogue.
To the surprise of some, who are convinced that the battle is lost, the Government insists on fighting and refighting the battle about election promises. And it, perhaps, is right to do so. "They cannot afford to let it go. If they do it will seep into the public's mind," said one Opposition strategist, who is not alone in seeing method where others only see madness.
"They have to change the terms of the debate from the pre-election manifestos to the post-election, and more limited Programme for Government. And they have been partially successful," he went on. The next year will prove no less difficult. The economic figures are difficult, and the pressures created by the upcoming European Union Presidency will strain bodies. There will be lots of balls in the air.
So far, the Government has given little grounds for confidence that they will not let many of them drop to the ground, with damaging politicalconsequences.