IT has been a disaster. An end to a particular innocence. As bad as the traumas that befell the Catholic Church and undermined its authority. And, in the midst of the rubble that has fallen about their ears, politicians are again fighting over Charlie Haughey.
They are missing the big picture. Mr Haughey might be in trouble. But they are the ones on trial. They are the people still seeking votes.
The damage done to public confidence in politics and in politicians by disclosures at the Dunnes payment tribunal is evident in this week's Irish Times/MRBI opinion poll. In all, 77 per cent of those questioned said they would "definitely" vote in the general election. And the figure reached 83 per cent for people aged over 65. But for the youngest cohort of voters, aged 18 to 25, the figure fell to 52 per cent.
That is extremely worrying. If almost half of our young adults feel so turned off by politics that they won't even vote, our democracy is under serious threat.
What is obvious is that politics cannot continue to inhabit the comfortable cocoon of presumed innocence which went with an underdeveloped, rural economy.
People who still argue that you cannot legislate against sleaze in politics ignore the fact that it is legislated for in every other walk of life. In the Ireland of the Celtic Tiger, white collar crime is rising at an alarming rate. And as get rich quick opportunities present themselves, politicians will be tempted. We should guard against the worst kind of behaviour in the future and prepare to welcome the best.
By a margin of eight to one, the public believed Ben Dunne, businessman and former drug user, gave large amounts of money to Charles Haughey. And it rejected the written denials of a former leader of Fianna Fail, a man who led this State for eight years as Taoiseach.
Should we be surprised? Yes. And we should be angry that politics has come to this. There was no shortage of warning signs. For how could an elected representative, on a TD's/Minister's salary and with no other stated commercial interest, afford such a lavish lifestyle?
The question was tentatively raised many times over a 20 year period and was never answered. Indeed, the question was represented as a political charge. It was the response of sheep in a wolfless society.
It was also reminiscent of Irish people's behaviour during the long, wet summer of 1985 when reports from Ballinspittle, Co Cork, spoke of a statue that moved. People thronged to witness the miraculous happening and many hundreds, even thousands, of sensible, devout citizens came away convinced they had seen something extraordinary.
But the miraculous had not really touched them. Interviewed about their experience, people confirmed that "yes", they had seen the statue move; and "no" it had not changed their lives. It was just something that had happened. They had gone to see if the reports were true, and they were; end of story. They got on with their lives.
This willingness to accept or to ignore the inexplicable is encouraged by the existence of "mysteries", those revealed truths that we cannot comprehend, which sometimes surface in Irish life.
BECAUSE Mr Haughey's wealth and lifestyle had no obvious underpinning, and yet existed, it took on the status of a mystery. And, in those days, you did not question mystery too closely. Especially if you were in the public service or had political ambitions within Fianna Fail.
Maire Geoghegan Quinn recently tried to explain Mr Haughey's role. He was regarded, she said, "as a once off: a unique figure of medieval power, intrigue and complexity, surrounded by mystery and money and protected by populism and cleverness and the well timed one liner".
It sounds like a political cop out to me. Charlie Haughey, like any other political leader, fought and gouged his way to the top. He was, perhaps, more ruthless than most; but his abilities, strengths and weaknesses were well known to his parliamentary colleagues. A majority chose him as party leader in 1979 because of their own needs and their desire for power. And they voted to retain him as leader on a number of occasions. For better or worse, Charlie Haughey came to epitomise Fianna Fail.
He was a man of his times. And, as a politician, he was not alone in his ambition or in his desire for the good life.
The Ethics in Public Office Act should help to assuage the public's worries about our political class. It was filleted on its way through the Dail, but it is a start. And next week, the Electoral Bill will pass all stages.
Opposition reaction to this modest piece of legislation, particularly in the circumstances, is extraordinary. From a position where it drafted the original Bill, while sharing government with the Labour Party, Fianna Fail has now joined the Progressive Democrats in opposing state funding for the running of political parties. It is also resisting the disclosure limits for payments made to politicians and to political parties.
It would be a very bad development if this Bill failed to become law. We would be left to muddle along in the old nod and wink fashion, with millions of pounds being transferred to political parties and to politicians, with no questions or favours being asked or granted. Until the next scandal occurred.
IT should not be forgotten that, over the past three years, as the Electoral Bill made its painstaking way through the Dail under two governments, the political parties have been engaged in an orgy of fund raising. With public disclosure of political funding from business and industry about to become a legal reality, the parties prepared for the leaner days of assisted State funding. Fianna Fail practically wiped out a debt of £3.5 million which existed after the 1992 general election.
And Fine Gael is in the black after extinguishing a debt of £1.3 million. It makes Ben Dunne's political party payments of less than £200,000 seem very small beans indeed.
Fine Gael suffered in the opinion polls because its Ministers attended Dublin Castle to confirm the payment of legitimate political donations by Ben Dunne. What would have happened if the books of all the political parties had beef thrown open and donations and donors identified?
It's not something we want to think about. It's part of that passive innocence, or indolence, that made society feel cohesive and comfortable. But business pays for the kind of government it wants. And political parties need funding to function effectively. A precise quid pro quo may not have been involved in the past but a symbiotic relationship certainly existed.
An important element of the Electoral Bill is a provision designed to cap election spending. Only so much can be spent by a candidate and by his or her party in a campaign and accounts must be kept. With a statutory limit placed on spending, fundraising from the private sector will lose its central importance. State funding will help to make up the expected shortfall. But private funding will remain important. Only the disclosure of donations aspect will take effect before the election.
As members of the Dail consider the landscape that has opened up following the Dunnes payment tribunal, they should start building for the future and forget about the past. {CORRECTION} 97050800004