It was a party comfortable with itself, basking in the sun and in the plush surroundings of the Citywest conference centre. The fruits of unprecedented economic growth were sweet. And the promise of another term in government, under "Our Bertie", was in the air.
Time and careful management is a powerful antidote to public anger. At the previous Fianna Fβil Ardfheis in March 2000, Bertie Ahern promised new standards in public life and an end to political corruption. Party delegates went home reassured that the country was in good hands and that the sins of the past would not recur.
Within months, they were appalled by Frank Dunlop's evidence to the Flood tribunal about planning corruption in Dublin. Then there was the DIRT scandal when financial institutions were found to have encouraged the well-heeled to evade their taxes while governments turned blind eyes. And the work of the Moriarty and Flood tribunals uncovered massive tax fraud and criminal activity on the interface between politics and big business.
Fianna Fβil was shaken by political scandal. Denis Foley resigned over his Ansbacher accounts. Ned O'Keeffe resigned as Minister of State because of a conflict of interests. Liam Lawlor went to jail. And Beverley Cooper-Flynn was expelled from the parliamentary party.
More reassurances were given. Time was bought. And a punch-drunk electorate turned off. Public anger subsided to the level of background radiation from the big bang. The tribunals ground on. And support for Fianna Fβil and the Coalition recovered as the economy boomed.
Now, with eight months to go to a general election, Mr Ahern has dusted off the mantras. Fianna Fβil, he insisted, stood for the highest standards in public life, notwithstanding individual lapses. New ethical standards applied. There was, understandably, no reference to fallen angels.
The ardfheis was all about preparing for a new term in power. To do that, every cumann in the country would have to recruit at least five new members before next spring and hold one public meeting.
The message from Mr Ahern and his assembled ministers was achingly positive. They would save Aer Lingus, or as much of it as was possible. They had saved agriculture. They would lock up lawbreakers. They would protect the environment and shut Sellafield. They would reform the health services.
Charlie McCreevy enjoyed being fitted out for Fianna Fβil in the tax-cutting clothes they had stolen from the Progressive Democrats. He recognised the need for continued heavy investment in health, education and social welfare. The Government's seven-year health strategy were put on ice. Micheβl Martin would deal with those closer to the election. And Noel Dempsey was still talking about separating local and national politics, in spite of an earlier "shafting" by the Government's Independents. Nobody mentioned rejection of the Nice Treaty or defeat in Tipperary South.
Instead, the focus was on tomorrow. Fianna Fβil, Mr Ahern said, was about to reinvent itself as a republican party that would co-operate with unionists, now that the issue of legitimacy had been settled by the Belfast Agreement. They would also see off the political threat of Sinn FΘin in the South, where there was "no place for physical force vigilantes".
Hard on the heels of the war on crime came his promise to ban abortion in Ireland. The Taoiseach maintained he was fulfilling a promise; doing the reasonable thing and trying to create a concensus. And then he talked about ending child poverty once and for all.
Why be glum when clever Bertie captained the Ship of State? The man was a master strategist with a positive, public image. He had piloted Fianna Fβil through the dangerous shoals and shallows created by Charlie Haughey and his band of buccaneers. He had presided over record economic growth. And major infrastructural investments were under way.
Fianna Fβil was well positioned. Success in the local elections of 1999 gave it a firm foundation.
It was riding high in the opinion polls, while Fine Gael and the Labour Party struggled. It had shrugged off political failures and buried past history. It had developed a Teflon coating.
The song, I'm feeling lucky, gives the formula: "You have to accentuate the positive; eliminate the negative; latch on to the affirmative, and don't mess with Mr In-between."