Gay has never been the sort to make rash career moves

All eyes are on Gay Byrne once again, as speculation that he could join the Presidential race runs rampant.

This suits him fine, but any further moves will be risky for him.

ONE Saturday in 1988, concert promoter Oliver Barry paid a visit to Gay Byrne’s home with a million-pound offer.

Barry wanted Byrne to spearhead Century, the new radio station he was establishing, and, in a bid to persuade the broadcaster to make the switch from RTÉ, he placed an envelope on the table.

It contained, according to Barry, a bank draft for £1m.

“I asked him to take it,” Barry told the Flood Tribunal in 2000. “Money talks in that business, you know.”

Barry did know. In 1989, he had handed Ray Burke, then Communications Minister, £35,000 in cash. The tribunal would later find this was a bribe, designed to encourage Burke to “act in Century’s interests”. Burke would go to great lengths to help Century at RTÉ’s expense, but the efforts didn’t work, and the station bombed.

Byrne had nothing remotely to do with any of this. His only involvement was when Barry tried to poach him — and made him that hugely tempting million-pound offer.

Byrne never opened the envelope, and therefore never knew for sure what exactly it contained. But he told the tribunal that, given Barry had mentioned such a figure in previous meetings, he had a good idea of the envelope’s contents.

“I assumed that, as we’d spoken in terms of £1m for a three-year contract, [it was] £1m up front. And I did not — if you’re going to ask me, sir, did I see the £1m written on this thing — I did not,” Byrne recalled.

“It was an envelope, but I do remember he said: ‘That’s a draft and it’s yours now and that’s it and I need your answer’ and I took the thing up, I assumed what it was, and I said: ‘I do not want that in my house overnight. I wouldn’t sleep a wink. Please take it away.’”

Byrne eventually decided to reject Barry’s offer and renewed his contract with RTÉ in January 1989. He told the tribunal he had several reasons for rejecting Barry, some of which had to do with feeling at home in RTÉ.

But Byrne also doubted the viability of Century, and felt there were massive risks involved in fronting the new station.

If the station failed, it would be “Muggins” behind the microphone — Byrne himself — who would get the blame, he believed.

“So the mark of failure would be upon me, and I didn’t want that to happen,” Byrne told the tribunal.

The episode shows that, when it came to his career choices, Byrne was a cautious man. Others would have jumped at the £1m and taken the risks. Byrne chose not to do — and his decision proved to be the correct one.

One expects he will be equally cautious about the presidency and the possibility that, were he to run, it could all end in tears (as it could for any candidate).

Back in 1988/89, when the Century offer was on the table, Byrne succeeded in getting better terms from RTÉ in order to stay. The presidential speculation has now ensured he is firmly back in the spotlight and demonstrated that his popularity with a sizeable chunk of the population appears to be enduring. Byrne is still doing a lot with RTÉ. But the reaction may encourage RTÉ to use him even more frequently in the future — were he to stick to broadcasting.

The point here is that Byrne is taking no risks by merely entertaining the possibility of an Áras bid. A bit like Century, the risks would only arise were he actually to make a move and stand in the race.

For now, the only person who has taken a real risk is Fianna Fáil leader Micheál Martin.

Martin has personally offered Byrne Fianna Fáil’s support to get in the race. In order to stand in the presidential election, a candidate must be nominated by at least 20 members of the Oireachtas (TDs and/or senators) or at least four city and/or county councils. Martin is offering Byrne the 20 Oireachtas names he needs to get on the ballot paper.

Byrne has already made clear that, were he to stand, it would be as an independent candidate. But that’s good enough for Martin, because, were Byrne to win, Fianna Fáil could bask in the reflected glory.

A Byrne win would be a poke in the eyes of Fine Gael and Labour. It would lift morale in Fianna Fáil and give the party a much needed boost.

But what if Byrne says no? Martin, having gone out on a limb, will be left swinging. His decision to support Byrne indicates a belief that none of the party’s potential candidates — such as MEP Brian Crowley or deputy leader Éamon Ó Cuiv — could win the presidency. Were Byrne not to stand, Martin would probably face pressure from within the party to run one of its internal candidates. But it would be practically impossible to convince the public of the merits of a Fianna Fáil candidate if the party leader himself hadn’t seen sufficient merits in that candidate in the first place.

The flipside is that if Martin chose not to run a party candidate, it would be an effective admission of a lack of faith in his party colleagues. So he would be damned if he did and damned if he didn’t (although at least choosing the latter option would save a few hundred thousand euro).

And what if Byrne ran but did not win? That would raise immediate questions about Martin’s own leadership. Was it wise to go outside the party for a candidate? Was it wise to support someone so at odds with the party on key issues such as Europe? Was enough research done in advance about the strengths or otherwise of Byrne as a candidate? Did Fianna Fáil do enough to support him? Did Martin do enough to get the vote out? How could Fianna Fáil have blown such a great chance of grabbing the Áras from the under the noses of Fine Gael and Labour? And so on.

It is very early days in Micheal Martin’s leadership of Fianna Fáil and, while nobody blames him for the party’s general election disaster, the last thing he needs is another defeat so soon in his tenure. But by putting his chips on Byrne, that’s the risk he is taking.