It's down and dirty in Fianna Fail. The stakes could hardly be higher. Liam Lawlor was forced to walk the long walk at the behest of the Progressive Democrats. And he is now seeking retribution. The man in his sights is Bertie Ahern.
The threat was there for some time. When Frank Dunlop told the Flood tribunal he had paid £180,000 to 38 Dublin politicians to attract their support on planning matters, public outrage had to be assuaged. Internal inquiries were established in both Fianna Fail and Fine Gael. And when a thinly-disguised Mr Lawlor emerged as Mr Big, he was the obvious target.
The Progressive Democrats met and decided they could not remain in government with a party whose members had serious questions to answer. They weren't prepared to wait for the Flood tribunal to report. Mr Lawlor could read the signs. His fitness to represent the party had been investigated before. And he had survived. But this time the future of the Government was on the line.
When interviewed by the Fianna Fail Standards in Public Life Committee, he came out fighting. The Dublin West TD had never accepted a penny in return for his vote. He had received legitimate political donations with no strings attached. And the large consultancy fees were perfectly legitimate business payments. And then he showed his teeth.
Mr Lawlor told the committee of being approached by an individual he refused to name in 1994 and of being offered £100,000 to act as consultant for a £375 million Phoenix Park national stadium and casino project. He turned it down. He also recalled hearing speculation that "the best way to receive tax designation for a development was to provide a pension fund for a named politician".
It was an obvious message to the Taoiseach to back off. And, to reinforce it, details of the casino offer appeared in the Irish Examiner, loosely linked to reports that Mr Ahern had accepted hospitality trips from the casino promoters.
It didn't work. The Fianna Fail Standards in Public Life Committee found too many discrepancies in Mr Lawlor's evidence and unanimously agreed he was refusing to co-operate.
When Mr Lawlor resigned rather than face expulsion, there was a parting shot. The man he had declined to name before the committee emerged as Des Richardson, a long-term friend and political ally of the Taoiseach and the man he had appointed as Fianna Fail fund-raiser. What was Mr Richardson doing trying to recruit Mr Lawlor in support of the casino? And did the then Minister for Finance, Mr Ahern, know?
After two days of silence, Mr Richardson explained he had indeed made an approach to Mr Lawlor on behalf of the developers in relation to "a possible advisory role". But it was only to set up a meeting. He had never offered him £100,000, or a consultancy.
Earlier, Mr Ahern had drawn attention to a statement opposing the casino he made in 1997. There was, however, a gap of nearly three years between Mr Richardson's involvement and Mr Ahern's statement. And, during those years, plans for the casino had gone ahead with tacit Fianna Fail support. In fact, they had only been stymied in 1996 when the Rainbow government refused to change the gambling laws to facilitate its establishment.
That there was money available to advance the casino project is beyond question. Tom Morrissey of the Progressive Democrats has already told the Flood tribunal of being offered £30,000 in a Cayman Islands bank account for a planning permission vote.
As far as Fianna Fail is concerned, however, the episode is pure muck-slinging. And they expect more of the same in the coming weeks. In anticipation of a coming storm, the shutters were brought down on the internal Fianna Fail report.
The Progressive Democrats had been given Mr Lawlor's head and that was to be the end of the matter. Questions about the veracity of the evidence given to the committee by Mr G.V. Wright were dismissed as trivial and unimportant. What did it matter, committee members asked, whether the £5,000 he had received from Owen O'Callaghan in 1992 had been solicited or unsolicited? The bottom line was that it was a legal donation, as was the other £15,000 he had received from well-wishers over a two-year period while he was Fianna Fail whip on Dublin County Council.
Just so that nobody would be in any doubt the case was closed within the party, the Taoiseach muscled in. A spokesman for Mr Ahern said it was now a matter for the Flood tribunal to investigate the issues involved, because it was the only forum with the powers to do so comprehensively. Fianna Fail was running scared. It had no appetite for rigorous self-examination and disciplinary action.
And while Fine Gael enjoyed the spectacle of the Taoiseach and the Government under pressure, it too was less than zealous in exorcising its own internal demons.
Frank Dunlop had given evidence of attempting to purchase the support of 38 politicians on Dublin County Council and yet, when the dust settled on internal investigations, three Fine Gael councillors had questions to answer and Mr Lawlor had resigned from Fianna Fail. Where were the others? The question of £100,000 in untraced political donations remained an enigma.
There are lies, damn lies and political donations. And as the Flood and Moriarty tribunals continue to probe the murky interface between politics and big business, the lies are becoming more blatant and the size of the payments more outrageous.
A lot of powerful and well-connected people have grubby deals to hide and business reputations to protect. They didn't become rich and prominent by waiting to be trod on by their competitors. And they have no intention of allowing the political or judicial systems to damage their lifestyles.
Their fingerprints were all over an early campaign to ridicule the work of the Flood tribunal and to complain about costs. But, as the hearings by both tribunals made progress, character assassination of key witnesses became the norm and the selective "leaking" of information a useful tactic. In between, acts of God took on a new meaning as flood, fire and events just short of earthquake conspired to destroy important evidence.
The £180,000 doled out by Mr Dunlop to Dublin councillors in relation to Quarryvale and other development projects was minuscule in the context of the £8.5 million given to Charlie Haughey by altruistic well-wishers during his term as party leader and Taoiseach. And Ray Burke and Padraig Flynn were among those favoured because of their political influence.
The generosity of the corporate sector should cause deep soul-searching. But the Taoiseach appears determined to retain corporate donations within the democratic system. For so long as that position holds, politics will be open to the charge of improper influence.
Dick Walsh is on leave
dcoghlan@irish-times.ie