History tells us one thing for sure: we’re blessed with Boring Bertie

FROM the night of the election count it was obvious that Bertie Ahern was going to be re-elected Taoiseach. Some people had to go through the routine of trying to make it exciting, but it only looked like a tired circus act. Looking back over Bertie Ahern’s 10 years in office, there has not been that much excitement.

In the 10 years after WT Cosgrave took over as head of government in 1922, he had to deal with the trauma of the Civil War, the collapse of the Boundary Commission, the Army Mutiny, the assassination of Kevin O’Higgins and the entry of Fianna Fáil into the Dáil.

Cosgrave would have been ousted and replaced in 1927 by the Labour leader Tom Johnson but for the mysterious absence of John Jinks from a crucial Dáil vote. During a liquid lunch, Jinks was persuaded to return to Sligo instead of Leinster House. Mercifully, we have not seen any of that kind of excitement in the past decade.

Eamon de Valera was elected head of government in 1932 and stayed for 16 years.

During the first 10 of them he had to cope with the treasonable behaviour of some of his opponents, the start of the Economic War, the introduction of a revised Constitution, the negotiations leading to the end of the Economic War and the dismantling of the Anglo-Irish Treaty.

He also had to keep Ireland out of the World War II.

Maintaining neutrality was no easy task. For some reason people like to forget that while Britain provided the protection, it also posed the greatest and most persistent threat. Churchill refused to recognise Ireland’s right to remain neutral and, as early as October 1939, he advocated that Britain should seize Irish bases.

Looking back afterwards, Joseph P Walshe, secretary of the Department of External Affairs, listed 12 different crises during the war. Eleven of those took place before 1942, and nine were provoked by fear of imminent British attacks. Just two crises were prompted by German action.

Of course, the events of either of those earlier decades have little to do with the present, but it worth remembering that the only other head of government to enter 10 years of continuous service is Bertie Ahern. By contrast, his 10 years as Taoiseach have been spectacularly staid.

His biggest political problems have been haunting reminders of earlier times resulting from the tribunal disclosures and the bungling in the appointment of Ray Burke. His other difficulties have been generated largely by affluence, such as the squander mania of certain government departments, the suspicion about brown paper bags, the bungling in relation to refugees, the shameless preferences that some ministers demonstrated towards their own constituencies, the insufferable arrogance of a few, the failure to implement decentralisation, and the growth of both the drug culture and the criminal gangs during the lifetime of a Government that came into office promising zero tolerance.

The highlights have undoubtedly been related to events in the North and the quiet but highly effective roles that both Bertie and Dermot Ahern have played in that peace process. That was rewarded by Ian Paisley recently with that warm handshake — a priceless photo opportunity.

The Government also made some imaginative gains with the savings initiative, the smoking ban and random breath testing, but probably the greatest political achievement has been the 10 years of unprecedented stability.

In the 30 years after Seán Lemass stepped down, Fianna Fáil seemed to be plagued by one crisis after another. Jack Lynch had the Taca controversy, followed by George Colley’s famous denunciation of “low standards in high places”.

Then there was the Arms crisis, the uproar of the 1971 árd fheis, and the mini-split leading to the formation of Aontacht Éireann.

In 1973, the party was cast into opposition, but Lynch ran into a crisis over the Littlejohn Affair. He criticised the government over its handling of the affair in which British agents were involved in criminal activity here. He denied that he had been informed of this as Taoiseach, but then he had to admit that he had indeed been informed, but forgot.

Midway through that term of opposition, there was the aggro over the reintroduction of Charles Haughey to the frontbench. Lynch led Fianna Fáil back into government in 1977 with the largest majority in the history of the State, but at an outrageous price. The 1977 FF manifesto turned out to be the biggest confidence trick ever in Irish politics.

Two years later Lynch was pushed by a combination of the machination of his party critics and the bungling of his erstwhile supporters who thought that if he went early, they would catch Haughey on the hop. But, of course, Haughey was prepared.

In 1981, the Haughey government had grossly overspent in a naked effort to buy the general election, but his plans were knocked off course when the FF árd fheis had to be cancelled because of the Stardust disaster in which 48 young people were killed. Nobody was ever held responsible for that disaster.

Haughey duly lost power, but he got back in March 1982 and formed what was unquestionably the most scandal-plagued government in our history. Not a month went by without some fresh crisis.

After little more than six months, Charlie McCreevy tabled the unprecedented ‘no confidence’ motion in Haughey’s leadership within Fianna Fáil. Haughey survived that, but his government was brought down within weeks.

Back in opposition he had to survive the 1983 heave over telephone tapping, and later the controversies over his cynical handling of the Anglo-Irish Agreement, followed by the expulsion of Des O’Malley from Fianna Fáil. This led to the formation of the PDs, who unquestionably denied Fianna Fáil an overall majority in 1987.

BACK IN power, Haughey formed his first stable government with the help of Fine Gael leader Alan Dukes and his Tallaght Strategy, but two years into that government Haughey threw the whole thing over in a bid for an overall majority.

FF and the PDs were the biggest losers in the 1989 general election, while Fine Gael made the biggest gains. Does that sound familiar? The PDs came to Haughey’s rescue, but within a year he was involved in the controversy over the sacking of Brian Lenihan as Tánaiste, followed by the fiasco over the abortive appointment of Jim McDaid as Minister for Defence.

The following year there was the Greencore affair and the failed heave led by Albert Reynolds and the Country and Western gang. But Charlie was eventually compelled to step down within weeks over the revival of the phone tapping scandal of 1982.

Albert Reynolds lasted less than three years as Taoiseach. Those were marred by the crisis in which the PDs brought down his government over his remarks about Des O’Malley’s tribunal testimony. Dick Spring came to Albert’s rescue after the 1992 election, but in 1994 that government came crashing down in the wake of the Fr Brendan Smyth affair and the appointment of Harry Whelehan as president of the High Court. People may complain that Bertie Ahern has been too cautious in his appointments, but he has clearly learned from the mistakes of his predecessor.

One could call the Taoiseach ‘BoringBertie’, but in the light of history that should really be considered a compliment. Is the term that began on Thursday going to be just a lap of honour, or could we see the stability crowned with lasting achievement?