It's not often that a former head of government is in a witness box being asked about politicians receiving money from wealthy businessmen. Yet that's what's been happening in the Moriarty tribunal in Dublin Castle for the past two weeks and listening to Charles Haughey it is hard not to think that at times he comes very close to telling the truth.

A circle of friends and admirers gave money to Des Traynor, the accountant and banker who for more than 30 years took it upon himself to ensure funds were available to maintain Mr Haughey in a multi-millionaire's lifestyle - despite his only income being his monthly cheque from the Department of Finance, which he cashed. Many of the donors were themselves associates and clients of Mr Traynor.

Mr Haughey was first elected Taoiseach in December 1979, and held that position for roughly seven out of the following 13 years. He was far and away the most powerful politician in the State during those years and, it can be argued, is broadly responsible for many of the matters being inquired into by both tribunals currently sitting in Dublin Castle.

Many of the people who are the focus of the Flood tribunal's inquiries were prominent figures during Mr Haughey's stewardship of Fianna Fail. The rumours and suspicion - and knowledge - concerning Mr Haughey's personal ethics which existed during his years in power set the tone for many of the matters now being examined by Flood.

As a source in the Flood tribunal put it, the first question which would come to the mind of an unscrupulous person seeking some favour or decision from the government was: "Is there someone who takes money?" Once that answer to that question is yes, then the whole business of government becomes dragged towards corruption.

If someone was dissatisfied with what was taking place, he or she was hindered as to whom a complaint could be made to, given that the Taoiseach and party leader was himself living off donations from the rich and powerful.

In other words, what Flood is investigating could not have arisen in the first place if Mr Haughey was not himself a beneficiary of large clandestine payments. Low standards in high places infect the whole body politic and all of civic society.

Last week, Mr John Coughlan SC, counsel for the Moriarty tribunal, put it to Mr Haughey that it could be taken as a given that a Taoiseach should not be financially beholden to anyone. Mr Haughey agreed but then went on to differ.

Mr Coughlan: "I am not even talking in the context now of some vulgar or crude way of somebody paying to get an actual job done. I am talking in its broadest context; it would be inappropriate for a Taoiseach to be beholden financially to anybody, would you agree?"

Mr Haughey: "Well, it all depends on beholden, the meaning of the word beholden. I would think that it would be valid for individuals or institutions to support a political person, because they believed in him or her or what they were doing, for absolutely totally disinvolved motives.

"I am thinking of the sort of situation where a group of friends would come together and, out of purely altruistic motives, assist a particular politician in a particular difficulty." He saw no "big line of differentiation" between this and making contributions to a particular politician to help him fight a political campaign.

It did not follow that the politician's benefactors would feel they were owed something, he said. There were many "public-spirited people" who would make such donations without any "anticipation of anything other than the political success of the individual".

This sort of support need not be due to the specific policies being pursued by the politician, Mr Haughey said, but simply because the person concerned is "doing a good job".

"Because they are running the country well, because they are engaging in initiatives which are beneficial to everybody, as I think I continually did."

Mr Haughey was asked whether such financial support from admirers would be permissible to whatever living standard the politician concerned aspired to, but did not give a clear response. He said it might not be appropriate for admirers to buy a politician a home which he couldn't otherwise afford, but that it might be legitimate to help an admired politician clear up debts.

Of course in Mr Haughey's case, the two were synonymous. His Abbeville estate was the main cause of the huge debts he built up during the 1970s, along with a voracious appetite for money he displayed during the following two decades.

Mr Haughey's evidence is that Mr Traynor managed his finances without giving him, Mr Haughey, any of the details and without Mr Haughey asking what those details were. He has said this was the case to the extent that at times he didn't know if he had or did not have a bank account, even when he was drawing down six-figure loans from particular financial institutions.

HE DIDN'T know how his expensive lifestyle was being funded and he rarely felt curiosity about the matter. This would be extraordinary evidence from anyone but is truly amazing coming from Mr Haughey, who is generally accepted to have a been a control freak who liked to know everything that was going on, while compartmentalising the knowledge available to those he was working with. He liked to be the only one with the full picture. One of his first acts upon being elected leader of Fianna Fail was to initiate a bitter struggle for access to a confidential list of contributors to the party's funds. He was successful.

Mr Traynor "may have respected if there were people who were making the contributions in confidence, he would have respected that confidence," Mr Haughey told the tribunal. His long-time friend would "probably regard it as a protection of me that I would not know who had subscribed".

Was there not a political danger involved in the whole scheme, Mr Coughlan asked. A benefactor could publicise the fact of a donation; "they may have spoken to Mr Traynor and said: `Look, I gave £150,000, I am not looking for Mr Haughey to hand me a licence or something or anything like that, but I want my view on some particular matter taken into account'."

Mr Haughey responded to this by Traynor was "totally removed from any form of political activity of that kind". If a contribution ever did become public knowledge it would be something "I would have to face politically myself publicly".

While Mr Haughey's evidence is that Mr Traynor's reticence was such that he, Mr Haughey, didn't know if contributions were sought or received from anyone, he still feels able to state with confidence that the persons who would have made such contributions would have done so in the public interest and without expectation of a return.

He also seems to have reason to believe the donations probably came from "friends" who were business associates of Mr Traynor, or from funds managed by Mr Trayor for others.

"He may have had at his disposal other funds," he said at one stage. "He operated a large system of looking after people's financial affairs."

This, of course, is exactly what happened. Mr Traynor operated the Ansbacher deposits. Some of his closest business associates were friends of Mr Haughey, had funds in the deposits and provided financial support.

Hotelier Mr P.V. Doyle, who had an Ansbacher account, gave money. Property developer Mr John Byrne, whose companies have been linked to the Ansbacher deposits, has denied ever knowingly giving money to Mr Haughey but cheques emanating from him did go to Mr Haughey.

Mr Patrick Gallagher, who received advice from Mr Traynor and was a friend of Mr Haughey, gave generously.

Mr Haughey's relationship with Mr Doyle, Mr Byrne, and the late Matt Gallagher, Mr Gallagher's father, goes back to the 1960s when his father-in-law, Sean Lemass, was in power.

In later years, Mr Traynor approached a younger generation of businessmen, Mr Ben Dunne, Mr Dermot Desmond and Dr Michael Smurfit.

The fundraising also slipped over into donations to Fianna Fail being diverted to Mr Haughey's personal accounts, as well as donations to the medical fund for the late Brian Lenihan being similarly diverted.

No allegation has been made to the Moriarty tribunal of any person receiving favours from Mr Haughey in return for payments but suspicion is the inevitable bedfellow of large clandestine payments to politicians.

Mr Haughey, for his part, holds that in politics you have to suffer the comments of "unreasonable persons" and an often hostile media.

He is giving evidence for two hours a morning, four days a week, and at the rate the evidence is moving he could be attending Dublin Castle until Christmas.

He is 75 years old and reputedly not in good health. It must be miserable waking in the morning and realising what lies ahead.

Though, then again, who knows?