The awesome political power of rural publicans was exerted on Fianna Fail backbenchers, opposition parties and Independent TDs over the past 10 days and it caused the shredding of Government legislation.

John O'Donoghue had got them hopping mad by trying to rush a Bill through the Dail that did not reflect their interests. So, through careful manipulation of political forces, they forced him to defer the legislation.

It wasn't a pretty sight. Power used with such crude directness tends to leave a bad taste in the mouth. But while the Vintners Federation of Ireland won the battle, they may have made a dangerous enemy in the Minister for Justice. In any event, he held the line at capitulation and ensured that his rebellious party colleagues will have a long, hot summer.

Losing face was one thing. But being forced to back off by a provocative constituency colleague, in the shape of Jackie Healy-Rae, and a backbench revolt by his own colleagues, was mortifying.

Being out of the loop at the Belfast negotiations allowed Mr O'Donoghue some political cover for the failure to stem his colleagues' revolt. But it was a thin excuse. He just hadn't appreciated the strength of the forces ranged against him.

As Joe Higgins remarked: "Can you imagine any other lobby group with the power to get Fianna Fail backbenchers put the gun to their own Government's head?"

In reality, there was no contest. When the publicans cracked the whip, most politicians rolled over like puppies. The fact that only one wing of the publican movement was involved underscored the power of the licensed trade. It was the Vintners Federation, representing rural publicans, that conducted this campaign, while the Licensed Vintners

Association, representing city publicans, stood aloof.

And the kernel of the complaint was that, under the Bill, hoteliers and club owners in the country would gain a competitive advantage over rural publicans by being able to apply for exemptions after midnight on Saturday.

To balance that equation, the Vintners Federation demanded that opening hours for all drinking establishments be extended by 11/2 hours in summer and one hour in winter. Such a development, it argued, would help its members cater for the tourist trade and reflect recommendations already made by an Oireachtas Committee.

The Minister appeared to operate on the basis that if he made these concessions up front, the publicans would resist other necessary changes when he brought comprehensive legislation to the Dail in the autumn. There would have to be some pain to balance their gain.

It all began on June 21st when John O'Donoghue startled the Dail by producing an extremely limited Intoxicating Liquor Bill. It proposed to do three things: abolish Sunday afternoon closing, remove the prohibition on special exemptions after midnight on Saturday, and allow all-night opening to celebrate the millennium on New Year's Eve.

Immediately, it drew criticism from Fine Gael and the Labour Party on the basis that it did not address other serious reform problems identified by an all-party Oireachtas Committee.

Their concerns were shrugged off by the Minister, who promised to introduce a major Bill in the autumn that would comprehensively address opening hours, under-aged drinking, licensing and other matters. In the meantime, he wanted to pass this Bill before the summer recess.

Rural vintners, who had made steady, persistent representations during a consultation period spanning two years, were galvanised into action. Their urban cousins, because of a unionised workforce and the higher costs longer opening hours would bring, weren't particularly concerned.

By last week, the executive of the Vintners Federation was fully throttled-up in Dail lobbying. Fine Gael and the Labour Party were the first ports of call. But the net was spread to include Sinn Fein and the Independent TDs who support the minority Government. And Fianna Fail backbenchers got the full treatment.

The members' restaurant in Leinster House was coming down with vintners. It was, a Labour Party observer said, the lobbying equivalent of carpet-bombing.

The opposition parties welcomed the approaches as a ready-made opportunity to embarrass the coalition Government and, perhaps, defeat the Bill in the Dail. Such a development would be a real morale booster before the summer holidays.

By the weekend, pressure became intense. In each constituency, vintners nominated two of their more persuasive members to speak to their local TDs and senators. The demand was for longer opening hours to balance the perceived special treatment being accorded to hotels and discos.

Rural publicans' political clout is linked to the fact that many elected representatives use licensed premises as "clinics", where they deal with the problems of their constituents.

But a senior Fine Gael figure said this was just an outward manifestation of their power. "If those boys were to badmouth you to their customers every night for three months, you wouldn't even save your deposit," he said.

This potential influence had Fianna Fail backbenchers running scared when they returned to the Dail last Tuesday. And panic set in when they saw the Order Paper. Amendments to the Bill had been tabled by Fine Gael, the Labour Party and Sinn Fein, taking the vintners' line and asking that pub opening hours be extended.

If John O'Donoghue stuck strictly to the terms of his Bill, they would be forced to vote against those amendments and have angry vintners on their backs for the entire summer.

John Moloney of Laois, himself a publican, led the charge for longer opening hours at the Fianna Fail Parliamentary Party on Wednesday. And he had solid rural support. Sean Doherty spoke of the need to regularise illegal practices. And Donie Cassidy sought to make peace between hotels and publicans.

Eddie Bohan, the vintners' nominee in the Seanad, missed that meeting. But he wasn't needed. And he made up for it when he coursed the corridors spreading the message of change.

Jackie Healy-Rae, Harry Blaney and Mildred Fox - the Government's majority in the Dail - had been teed up from early on. They wanted longer opening hours. And they wanted them this week. Even if it meant the Minister for Justice had to eat humble pie and swallow the opposition's amendments.

It didn't come to that. The Minister was in Belfast. And his offer to meet parliamentary colleagues and convince them of the correctness of his approach was never tested. The same held true for a last-minute meeting with the Independent TDs.

Seamus Brennan read the signs and decided he was in a lose-lose situation. If the Minister accepted the amendments, he and the Government would be seen to have capitulated to a powerful vested interest. And if they pushed ahead with the Bill they would further antagonise the publicans, while risking a Dail defeat.

A cast-iron commitment to change opening hours in the autumn cut no ice with the publicans and offered no comfort to backbenchers. So it was decided to let the Bill go; to salvage a little face by leaving it on the Order Paper and pretending that nothing untoward had happened. It fooled nobody, but it was the best that could be done.

A Labour Party spokesman put the boot in. In the same week the Government had killed off its Registration of Lobbyists Bill, he said, Ministers were given an example of raw political lobbying in action.

Jackie Healy-Rae, himself a publican, hadn't a good word for his constituency colleague. There was grave annoyance about the Bill throughout the country, he said, and the failure by the Minister to amend it would cause difficulties and financial loss during the coming tourist season.

John O'Donoghue had a tough week in Belfast. But it was nothing compared to what happened in Dublin. When it came to all-in political wrestling, the rural publicans were a class apart.