The only mortal sin in FF is leaving Bertie alone with a smoking gun

IF the Brian Curtin fiasco had happened while Nora Owen was minister for justice, how do you think Fianna Fáil in opposition would have reacted? You know full well. They would have been baying for her blood.

In the two years she was minister for justice, Fianna Fáil made a target out of her, week after week. And they succeeded in creating the entirely unfair and untrue perception that the country had reason to be terrified about crime.

The present Minister for Justice conveys the constant impression of a man above criticism. If anyone says a cross word to him, he comes over all precious and pompous. Look at his reaction on radio to the hassling he got during the Dáil debate on his entirely opportunistic referendum on citizenship. "They were heckling a minister of the government," he said plaintively to Pat Kenny. This is the man who, in opposition himself, was prepared to use any tactic or attack, no matter how personal, to score points.

But, as Mary O'Rourke once said, that was then, and this is now. Now, he is a member of a Government that feels entirely free to do what it likes, when it likes, and to whom it likes. It will adopt whatever position suits the moment, and its representatives will say whatever comes into their heads.

A small example was provided by junior minister Willie O'Dea in one of Sunday's newspapers, when he lectured the opposition about its concerns over the referendum. "A simple and straightforward proposal," he called it. "It is being given ample time for discussion and public debate. It is not being rushed."

This, presumably, is the self-same Willie O'Dea who, a fortnight ago, agreed absolutely with Pat Rabbitte on Questions and Answers that it would be wrong to link the referendum with the local and European elections, because of the atmosphere that could be created, and because of the need to debate the issue calmly and reflectively. Someone got him back on message quick enough!

There are, of course, much bigger examples. There is a rule in modern politics. It goes like this. If you are doing something that you would not wish to see publicised, then you are not doing the job you were elected to do.

Put another way: if you don't want to get caught, don't do it in the first place.

This Government hasn't just forgotten the rule. It has thrown it out the window. (And the two parties in government are indistinguishable in this respect, as in most others).

It used to take Fianna Fáil more than a decade in power to develop the arrogance that made the people sick enough to get rid of them. This time, all it took was re-election. It's fairly clear now that this Government believes in its own infallibility to such an extent that it thinks it can get away with anything.

And the party has also abandoned the other rule that used to govern their behaviour, at least to some extent. The first rule of FF politics whatever you do, don't get caught.

Nowadays they get caught with such monotonous regularity that we all seem to have become immune to it. What used to be seen as serious is often characterised as a venial sin these days. I guess all these things are relative.

It has happened at the policy level look at Mary Coghlan's Savage Sixteen cuts (or the Filthy Fifteen, I suppose we have to call them, now that she has been forced to row back on the widows). Those cuts were done for easy, cynical reasons, stroke-of-a-pen type cuts that would have their hardest impact on people society isn't supposed to care about. And because they affected often-neglected minorities lone parents, people living in abject poverty on supplementary welfare we weren't supposed to find out about them, at least not until it was too late.

They weren't announced in any budget day speech, but instead were slipped into the book of estimates. But they were found out, and sooner or later Fianna Fáil will regret the callousness of those cuts.

It has happened at the stroke level look at Punchestown. We are all indebted to the recent Prime Time programme on the bloodstock industry for the reminder that Charlie McCreevy really believes that if he doesn't look after the horsey set, some other government might well come along and decide it wants to fritter the money away on the health care of sick people, or the education of the young.

But even by his standards, Punchestown was a crass and vulgar stroke, made even worse by his subsequent parading of it to his European finance minister colleagues.

IT has happened at the political level too look at Noel Dempsey's effort to boost the fortunes of Fianna Fáil local election candidates with detailed, individualised folders outlining how much had been spent in their areas. The folders, all prepared at public expense, were clearly designed to give them a record to stand on even though most of the candidates would have had little or nothing to do with the spending involved.

Because Noel Dempsey broke the cardinal FF rule he got caught he probably, mind you, saved the party further embarrassment. I haven't the slightest doubt in the world that good news folders were being prepared across all the Government departments, and that FF candidates throughout the country would soon have been presented with a slew of such folders.

The health ones would have been silent on waiting lists, of course, just as there would have been no mention of the Filthy Fifteen in the social welfare folders, or no mention of the petty allocation for care of Irish emigrants abroad in the foreign affairs folder.

But all the folders have been put on hold for now, as a result of poor Minister Dempsey's red face.

And the party that has never been able or willing to repudiate properly the activities of the Haugheys, Burkes and Lawlors of the world spent several days putting as much distance as it could between itself and its hapless education minister.

The Taoiseach was suitably grave on the news, announcing that the matter would be investigated. And by the weekend, the party was floating the story that even if Noel Dempsey wasn't likely to be fired in the short term, his chances in the autumn reshuffle weren't looking bright. And that's enough for them.

By the autumn, of course, this transgression will have been forgotten. The only consideration in play, by the time Bertie does his reshuffle, will be how to shore up his own leadership.

The second FF rule is already in operation, and it is the one that will determine the outcome of that reshuffle and most of the political tactics and strategy for the next couple of years. The rule is simple if you do get caught, you're on your own. Above all, make sure your transgression doesn't touch the leader.

Putting Bertie in the same room as anyone's smoking gun that's the only sin left in the Fianna Fáil catechism.