A political marriage with lots of drama - and tears

Everything should work out fine once Bertie Ahern learns to know his place. That's if he ever comes home from Helsinki

Everything should work out fine once Bertie Ahern learns to know his place. That's if he ever comes home from Helsinki. A future in sauna management must have looked very attractive to the Taoiseach when word came through at the European Summit that Michael McDowell is to be his new Tánaiste, writes Miriam Lord.

Officially today, Mr Ahern will welcome the elevation of Minister McDowell to the position of PD leader. He will be confident that the two of them can continue to work together on the Programme for Government in a spirit of friendship and mutual respect.

Unofficially yesterday, sources in Finland confirmed that Bertie took to the nearest steam room upon hearing the news, telling advisers: "I'll just sweat here for a while and beat meself stupid with dese twigs."

Actually, Deputy McDowell's smooth transition to the top PD job will not cause the Fianna Fáil leader too much angst. It seems Bertie "all's I know is" Ahern, and Michael "I know what I know" McDowell, rub along quite well in real life.

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People who know them say the pair are more than capable of doing business together.

Even if, as expected, the Progressive Democrats morph into the Aggressive Democrats as soon as the new boss gets down to work, Bertie knows Michael's form. He's like a house-trained volcano: spectacular eruptions for public consumption, but the lava flow of the McDowell fury usually stops at the doors of Government Buildings.

No, Michael will behave. That's the expectation, anyway. Now that he's Tánaiste, and has some real power, why would a penchant for grandstanding make him throw it away? The man may be mad, but he's not stupid.

Of course he's not mad. He's just "very bright". This is the phrase used time and again to excuse some of the wilder utterances made by the Minister in the course of an eruption, or when he goes too close to the bone in insulting an Opposition deputy across the floor of the Dáil. He gets away with all sorts of carry on because he's "very bright". That's why he has no supporters, only acolytes.

Certainly, no flies on Michael when it came to the leadership contest. He blew the other contenders out of the water. Within 24 hours of Mary Harney's resignation on Thursday, her Minister for Justice appeared to have wrapped up the job for himself. Male pride and an opportunistic eye saw junior Minister Tom Parlon rock the boat a little over the weekend, but there was always only going to be one result in the succession stakes.

Parlon, a former Irish Farmers' Association leader, is a tough negotiator. Even though the numbers were stacked against him, he refused to concede to the McDowell camp on Friday and Saturday, threatening to spoil the desired "smooth transition" by mounting a challenge. A meeting was called between the two, the Sunday papers were fully briefed by the Parlon side, and suddenly the consensus talks had stalled and a furious Tom had walked out of the meeting.

This "meeting" took place in the sponsor's pavilion at Leopardstown Races during the Bailey's Irish Champion Stakes. According to the reports, the two couldn't have a proper discussion because the place was too crowded. Furthermore, Parlon had been expecting to be offered by McDowell the consolation prize of PD president, but this didn't happen. Hence his apparent "walkout". However, guests in the hospitality pavilion say the two men didn't sit down in hugger-mugger, but stood at the free bar for the best part of an hour, laughing and joking with each other. McDowell was the one who left early, while keen racegoer Parlon stuck around for the rest of the day, going in and out of the tent, mobile phone stuck to his ear.

Yesterday, rumours circulated that an affronted Parlon was going to contest the leadership. Then the Liz O'Donnell camp put it around that their woman - the third contender in any possible election - was willing to put her name forward if Tom did the same.

By late afternoon, it was all over. The main prize nailed down for McDowell, and big titles for the other two.

Honour satisfied all round.

He's so bright, is Michael. He's also funny and arrogant and smug and, for somebody who knows how to dish it out, notoriously thin-skinned. He hates to lose an argument. When talking about himself, he blows a finer trumpet than Dizzy Gillespie.

Never mind. It'll go in one ear and out the other with Bertie Ahern. And the two will get along fine. Until the moment, and it has to come, when Michael McDowell forgets his manners, remembers the election and erupts indoors.

Then the Taoiseach will remember that he never did get an apology from McDowell for the time he called him "Ceausescu". It will end in tears, obviously. Stand by for months of drama and delicious anticipation.