Enjoy the show — just remember the little emperor had no clothes
And of course, the story has all the elements of drama a poor man's King Lear, perhaps, or maybe the sort of story to which justice could be done by Arthur Miller.
The key to any great drama is the central character, and we can already see in this series the powerful hold that Charles J Haughey had on many of the people he had around him. And indeed, you can see it in the interviews people refused to give as much as the ones that were given. The late Sean Doherty, for instance, went to his untimely death without ever publicly discussing, for the record, his relationship with Haughey. Those who knew Sean Doherty, however, are in no doubt that the relationship was one of the key features of his life.
It formed him, it ruined him, it contributed to a sense of legend about him, it was the thing in respect of which he sought redemption. And his silence to the end has ensured that there will always be elements of myth and legend about what he did and why he did it while he was Haughey's minister for justice.
But all the things that happened to Sean Doherty in his life, all the things that have characterised him in the public mind, happened because Charles J Haughey picked him out.
He picked out a young, inexperienced and fanatically loyal lieutenant, and put him in one of the most senior and sensitive positions in Government. To the day he died, and long after he had contributed to the destruction of Charles Haughey, Sean Doherty professed his admiration and affection for him.
Haughey, on the other hand, once he had denied the charges made by Doherty, never referred to the younger man in public again. The more you think about it, the more you might come to the conclusion that while we're undoubtedly going to be hooked on the documentary series, there's also room for a great play.
And what a central character Haughey would make in the hands of the right author. Charismatic, flawed, brilliant, manipulative, self-centred, charming, frightening. Willing to go to any lengths if his own needs or reputation were at stake. Unwilling to take any risk whatever for any other purpose.
In all the years I worked in Leinster House, no politician looked so much as if he belonged in the Dáil chamber or as if, in a way, it belonged to him. The great confrontations he inspired in Leinster House both in public and in the privacy of party rooms were part of the essential fabric of a true political legend. Since his departure, apart from the great moments of tension involving the collapse of Albert Reynolds' governments, the theatre of Irish politics has become incredibly bland.
That blandness is, of course, the deliberate creation of Charles Haughey's successor as leader of Fianna Fáil, Bertie Ahern. We have yet to discover, and may never discover, the full extent of the relationship between these two leaders. But there is no doubt in my mind that Bertie Ahern decided a long time ago that his style of leadership would be as diametrically opposed to his mentor's as it was possible to be. And so it has proved, with Bertie struggling, day in and day out, to try to make politics as boring as possible, to ensure that it is seen as a humdrum operation of management.
Inspirations and aspiration, vision and revolution are not for Bertie. Where Haughey used to smile serenely when the band played "Arise and follow Charlie," our current Taoiseach would prefer the anthem to be "Lie Down and let Bertie look after you."
Bertie is interested in survival, not legend. For Charlie, even still, the legend matters. And there is no doubt that the legend of Haughey will endure. But legend and greatness aren't the same thing.
The fundamental question remains what did he leave behind? In the end, there is precious little to admire. There have been a number of leading politicians in the world in the last quarter of a century or so some, even, who have had an "ism" named after them. Charles Haughey was one of those. In terms of political ability he was in the same league as Margaret Thatcher, Ronald Reagan and Helmut Kohl. In terms of intellectual capacity, he may have surpassed them.
In their cases, though, the "ism" they represented was based on something.
WHETHER you agreed or disagreed with what Thatcher or Reagan stood for, they changed the temper of their times. Reaganism or Thatcherism were words used to describe a philosophy, an idea, an approach to society or economics.
Haugheyism, even at its height, was never more than a matter of style. That was essentially because this man of huge ability was also a man of weak character. The blind and passionate loyalty that Charles Haughey inspired in many of his followers was based on their perception of Haughey the man, never Haughey the principle. He never really stood for anything, never really wanted to take his followers anywhere. Indeed, he always managed to project an air of one who ultimately despised those who admired him most.
And why not? Haugheyites were never encouraged to have ideas or convictions of their own, or to express any independent view. They could be identified by their slavish devotion to the Boss, by their refusal ever to believe a critical word, by their willingness to go on the attack at a wave of his hand. And it was true that even though they would follow him anywhere, he never really had anywhere to go.
Throughout the series, you can expect defenders to refer to his magnificent achievements, his legislative record, his inspirational role in the IFSC, his performance in turning the economy around after 1987. It doesn't add up to a lot. There have been a great many ministers with a legislative record immeasurably superior to Charles Haughey's. Some of the legislation he did introduce his "Irish solution" contraceptive bill, for instance are landmarks in cynicism, unique epitaphs to a political style. His behaviour during some of the great debates of his time (the divorce referendum of the mid-'80s or the New Ireland Forum were prime examples) were a caricature of political leadership.
He admired courage, and thought he had lots of it. But political courage involves a willingness to take unpopular decisions based on conviction, and Charles Haughey never had that.
Of course, the myth was that this was a man of great vision, a man who knew how to take us to the promised land. What we now know, of course, is that in Charlie's promised land, everyone existed to serve him and his interests. As we enjoy the series, let's not forget... he really was that pathetic.