THE stature of Bertie Ahern as leader of Fianna Fail had been cranked up a notch in recent days by his handling of the Dunnes Stores controversy.
From the beginning Mr Ahern and his advisers regarded the disclosure of payments to politicians as a real plus, rather than a potential minus. Not only was Fine Gael thrown into disarray, but there was an opportunity to lay down firm ethical rules for his own party.
It's not easy to make your mark on a "movement" like Fianna Fail. Especially when your first act as party leader is to don the mantle of consensus seeker and wound healer after years of internecine struggle. In recent years, you stepped lightly and carried a big stick within Fianna Fail. And Mr Ahern has been proceeding with commendable caution.
In economic areas his parry has endorsed the traditional dog in the manger, opposition tactics: complaining about inadequate public services and, at the same time, the rising cost of delivering them. It's the kind of critical anti spending message that delights the financial markets. But it carries little weight with the average voter.
Adventurous new ground has, however, been broken by the Fianna Fail leader on Northern Ireland and in relation to political probity.
Mr Ahern carved out a distinctive profile for himself on the North by being strongly supportive of Sinn Fein and the "peace process and by urging the British government to create the circumstances in which an IBA ceasefire might be called. While his criticisms of the Government have been muted, he has been harshly critical of the IRA's bombing of the Dunnes Stores controversy has added a new dimension to his leadership profile. At first cautious and restrained, as details of Michael Lowry's difficulties leaked out; and then tough and uncompromising, as reports spoke of a former senior Fianna Fail minister receiving payments amounting to £1.1 million.
MR Ahern drew a new line in the sand. And in a series of speeches in the Dail he laid down explicit rules of ethical behaviour for Fianna Fail's elected representatives. The leader of the largest party in the State was waving goodbye to the buccaneering days of financial winks and mohair suits.
Mr Ahern recognised that "bad habits may have grown up over the last 30 years" and insisted that, in future, "anyone who abuses their position or knowingly flouts the rules - will be gone".
As for the allegations concerning a former Fianna Fail minister, he said the tax aspects of any such donations should be examined. The man from Drumcondra wasn't giving covering fire to anybody. Within days he confirmed that party headquarters had received no donations whatsoever from Dunnes over the past 10 years.
Mr Ahern was creating a conundrum for the public. How could Fine Gael receive £180,000 from Dunnes in those years - from a company "with strong Fianna Fail sympathies when de Valera's grand old party got nothing?
It beggared belief.
The party leader might be frying a specific fish within Fianna Fail, but he was determined that the political focus should remain on Fine Gael. And when the Progressive Democrats unveiled their plan for a sworn public inquiry into the whole shebang there was no knee jerk response. Just a cool, measured reaction.
Fianna Fail took four days and a meeting of its front bench to come to a decision.
Out went the blunderbuss approach of the Progressive Democrats, which would have directed the judicial inquiry to establish "whether newspaper reports" of alleged payments to politicians and public officials were "true in substance and what the motives and circumstances of any such payments were".
In came an amendment which retained the Progressive Democrats' specific focus on Michael Lowry but then imaginatively aligned itself with the Government's position.
Fianna Fail was having a sharp bet. It wanted the Government sponsored report of Judge Buchanan to the Committee on Procedure and Privileges - which would contain the names of the politicians and public servants contained in the Price Waterhouse report to be referred onwards to judicial inquiry.
It took the war right into the Concentration camp, where divisions were already opening up between Fine Gael, the Labour Party and Democratic Left because of the delay by Mr Lowry in offering an explanation for the £208,000 funding of his house refurbishment. Neither Proinsias De Rossa, Brendan Howlin nor - finally - John Bruton ruled out an eventual judicial inquiry.
FROM the high moral ground, Mr Ahern regarded it as "a grave public scandal" that they had not been given a satisfactory explanation by the former minister. And he twisted the knife when he said: "The longer such a reply is outstanding, the more the question arises as to whether Deputy Michael Lowry, former chairman of Fine Gael, is a fit person to be a member of this House."
The dagger had struck home. John Bruton rose in the Dail yesterday to say an explanation would be offered "soon" by the former minister. And Fine Gael sources later advised it will happen next Thursday.
But the rainbow rot had set in. The Taoiseach's offer had not satisfied the "Endangered Eight". From the Labour Party backbenches they rushed to issue a statement recording the deep concern of their Dublin constituents "at the implications of the allegations as they now stand". And, with a sharp eye to the floating vote which elected them in 1992, they suggested this explanation should be provided before the Christmas recess.
It's been a good 10 days for Bertie Ahern and for Fianna Fail.