Subsidence or subsidy? Dunno, ask Dougal (this one’s no fool)

BERTIE AHERN revealed just “four rafts” under his St Luke’s HQ are keeping it from collapsing into the river — he didn’t need to mention the single life-raft keeping his political career afloat is also sinking fast.

The pivotal moment in yesterday’s proceedings came when Judge Mahon had to interrupt cross-examination to explain to the Taoiseach the difference between taking money for political purposes and taking money for personal use.

Not for the first time in the extraordinary saga, it was reminiscent of a classic Father Ted scene. The one that came to mind was when a despairing Ted tries to make a confused Dougal understand why the toy cow in his hand appeared to be the same size as the real herd of cows outside.

As Ted holds the miniature bovine to the window he says: “No Dougal, one last time. ‘Near’ — ‘Far Away’. Come on now!”

The judge was hitting a similar brick wall with Bertie. “No Taoiseach: ‘personal use’ and ‘political use’”. Before continuing in a voice usually reserved for a particularly dim child as he explained a “political” donation would be spent on things like “campaigning” or “party events”, while a “personal” donation could go on “holidays” or “buying a house”.

Something seemed to click into place in the Taoiseach’s brain. You could almost hear the screech of his foot hitting the break and crunching the witness box into reverse as he suddenly appeared to realise the potential enormity of what he had just said about using a political donation for personal use and not declaring it to the Revenue for 12 years.

Mr Ahern didn’t mean spending it on himself, of course not. Oh no. He used the dosh “personally” only for the benefit of others. Yes, that’s what he meant.

Why, he spends €400 to €500 every weekend on scratch cards, tickets and other “humanitarian” causes at Fianna Fáil fundraising events — or “walking-around money” as the legendary Ray Burke used to call it.

So, that’s all cleared up then. The Taoiseach gets through some €25,000 a year on raffle tickets, tombolas and lucky dips — or lucky dig-outs as he probably prefers to call them.

Mr Ahern had oozed bravado as he sauntered into the box with one hand in his pocket and his tongue licking his upper lip. But he seemed less focused than usual as he let a couple of hand grenades from tribunal counsel Des O’Neill slip past his defences.

The interplay between the two men was telling, like a snarling couple who know each other just a little bit too well for comfort.

Bertie started off almost teasingly towards his accuser: “Sometimes I think you don’t listen to me.”

Then there was more of an edge to the comebacks: “You love the emotive language, don’t you?” Which was followed by all-out sarcasm: “Of course it came by post. Did you think it came by carrier pigeon?” And finally ended in anger: “Give me a break!”

By now it was clear Mr Ahern’s explanations for lodgments going through the 23 bank accounts he was involved with were as rickety as the foundations for St Luke’s.

Mr Ahern went from not using a single bank account for six years while finance minister to being involved with 23. Maybe he wanted to make up for lost time.

One of the said accounts was there to help shore up sinking St Luke’s.

Most people would find it strange then that it was in the sole name of FF official Tim Collins, who stated in writing when opening the account it was for personal use only. Stranger still, it has had €48,000 stuck in it since 1995 that no one has touched. Strangest of all, when some subsidence work was done on St Luke’s, the loot came from a different account.

It was suggested to the Taoiseach, that may all sound rather, well, strange to normal people, but Bertie just shrugged his shoulders in a manner that resonated the unspoken truth: “Hey, it’s Planet Drumcondra, we don’t do ‘normal’.”

The name of the St Luke’s subsidence account was “BT”, which we were told stood for building trust.

How ironic the revelation merely added to the feeling that building trust was the very last thing Mr Ahern had achieved as his political life-raft began to list heavily in the torrent of murky and dangerous waters unleashed when the Bertiegate damn burst open.