THE year just ended was (another) remarkably high profile year for the arts in Ireland, and for the Irish arts abroad, as our writers in the Rewind 96 series have made clear.

Intelligent voices rightly warn us that clapping our own backs can be bad for our cultural health; smugness does not produce good art. Nevertheless, the current wave of cultural confidence is undoubtedly an advance on the begrudgery and self hatred that often tainted our artistic life in the past. This is legitimate cause for celebration.

There is legitimate cause for concern, however, over the health of the infrastructure which should sustain and facilitate this vibrant and rapidly expanding web of cultural activity. Its shape has changed radically in the first half of this decade, and the coming year may be crucial in determining how public policy (and politics) interact with the arts for the foreseeable future.

The shape began to change four years ago this month, when Michael D Higgins was appointed as the first Minister for Arts and Culture in the history of the State. That appointment was warmly welcomed by most people in the arts constituency. The man was welcomed for his exceptional energy, vision, and personal commitment to the arts. The position was welcomed because a seat at the Cabinet table represented long overdue recognition by government that the arts were central to national life and the scandalous underfunding of artists and arts workers might end at last.

Optimism was tempered by serious reservations: would a ministry undermine the cherished autonomy of the arts council system, and make arts policy decisions subject to party - and personal - political interest? There were also those who found Michael D's visions more alarming than inspiring: it was said that he would "go mad in office".

Four years later, the ministry has survived into a new coalition of a different complexion, and looks a like a permanent political fixture. Michael D Higgins is, still Minister and has not gone mad, but he has become very powerful. He controls what has become one of the largest direct spending budgets in the Cabinet. Many artists and arts organisations have benefitted from increased funding, the Arts Council's own budget has doubled, and a revived Film Board has helped stimulate a thriving film industry. Full credit is due to the Minister and his advisers for these advances.

NOT everything, however, has been quite - as apocalyptically brilliant as the Minister's speeches repeatedly suggest.

There is rust as well as gold in his self proclaimed New Jerusalem. This is not surprising, given the weak structures he inherited. The really disturbing aspect is the refusal to acknowledge this - and, more so, the collaboration in this window dressing from people whose job it is to speak with a fearlessly independent voice.

The most obvious example - not the only one - is his treatment of the Arts Council and The Arts Plan 1995-1997. Despite Cabinet approval for the plan, which had attracted very visible public support, the funding it required did not follow. The shortfall now amounts to more than £12 million.

The result has been that valuable initiatives stimulated by the plan have starved, cynicism has been nurtured, momentum has faltered and opportunities have been lost. When the plan was published, a vocal campaign by the arts constituency demanded that its target be met in the 1995 Budget. This legitimate, democratic expression of sectoral interest clearly incurred the Minister's displeasure. He told The Irish Times that "the anxieties being expressed... are misplaced", and assured us, regarding the £3.35 million shortfall already evident in that year, that "it would be quite natural to seek a supplementary grant once Cabinet accepts the plan."

These anxieties, it turned out, where all too well founded, and Cabinet approval produced no additional funds. A year ago, as the shortfall rose above £6 million, and his own discretionary spending powers continued to increase, the Minister "invited" the council to "extend" the plan over five years. Without a whisper of public protest, the Arts Council agreed. The Minister, it seems, must never be embarrassed again, and "autonomy" gets redefined as "responsibility".

CAN one imagine any other sector - farmers, trades unionists, doctors or gardai - acquiescing so silently in the drastic dilution of its agreed national plan? This silence contrasts starkly with the aforementioned 1994/5 campaign. At that time, the word went out loud and clear from several Arts Council members that public criticism of the Minister was "unhelpful", and should not occur again. It does not seem to have struck them that public pressure on a Minister to achieve his own targets may actually help him to find money for them at Cabinet. In both principle and practice, it was bad leadership. But those who depend on the goodwill of the council for their grants felt, understandably if wrongly, that they had little option but to knuckle under.

This year's Estimates indicate that the council's 1997 grant (£20.8 million) will finally pass the threshold (£19.6 million) set for the plan's first year in 1995. A press release from the Minister tells us that similar percentage increases will bring funding up to the 1997 target by 1999. There is, of course, no guarantee that this will happen, under this Minister or any other.

We live in hope, if not in faith, but the precedents which have been set by these events, for the relationship between the Ministry and those he is elected and appointed to serve, do not bode well for the future. The council's new director, Patricia Quinn, will need all her proven strength and ability to put the plan back on course. The political responsibilities lie elsewhere, and must be addressed. It should not be too late for this council to realise the great promise of its early days.