Fianna Fail delegates were so confident of winning the general election at the weekend that some officials worried about complacency, writes Denis Coghlan, Chief Political Correspondent
The Fianna Fáil party was like a sprinter at the starting blocks: supremely confident, all muscle and tension, limbering up, waiting for the off. The research had been done. The issues carefully identified. The candidates chosen.
Delegates gathered in Dublin for the final preparations; to bond, to socialise and to listen to Bertie Ahern, the man with the starting pistol.
There were a few niggling concerns. Negative campaigning by Fine Gael was being cranked up. It wasn't just the huge billboards drawing attention to Government failures. Michael Noonan had the cheek to list "seven question that would not be answered" at that day's ardfheis in a full-page newspaper ad. And there was more in the pipeline.
Then there was the abortion issue. Delegates sought to ignore the shock referendum defeat. And Bertie Ahern didn't let them down by mentioning it in his televised address. It was yesterday's news. And it certainly didn't rate amongst the unfinished jobs facing Fianna Fáil.
Optimism was the order of the day. The party had commissioned opinion polls across the constituencies last January, and the results were comfortingly positive. Independent research supported the findings. And confidence bloomed.
No longer were directors of election contemplating the loss of seats. It was now a question of how many extra Fianna Fáil TDs would be elected. Eighty or more Dáil seats were within their compass. They might not need the Independents. They certainly would not want the Labour Party. And, on a great day, an overall majority might be possible without the Progressive Democrats. It was heady stuff.
The party, however, had been there before. Charlie Haughey and Albert Reynolds had seen opinion poll majorities disappear when the election was called. Officials took comfort from a Sunday Independent poll which showed support for the party at 51 per cent. But it was down three points since December and the survey had not captured the impact of the referendum defeat. Fine Gael had clawed back two points to 21 per cent.
Then there was the awkward business of contracts for the national aquatic centre at Campus Ireland. Even as delegates applauded the Taoiseach for his determination to proceed with the Bertie Bowl, Mary Harney was burning up the phone lines to Jim McDaid, demanding that rigorous action be taken because of the questions that remained unanswered.
In party back rooms, it was agreed that the issue - reminiscent of the bad old days - could not be allowed to overhang the general election. Wheels were put in motion. The tumbrils began to roll.
The ardfheis was slickly packaged, television time being allocated to articulate, photogenic ministers and aspiring TDs, rather than to ordinary delegates. In his presidential address, the Taoiseach pegged out the pitch on which he would fight the election, defined the ground rules and invited the opposition to play.
Fianna Fail had brought peace; had created 370,000 jobs; had cut taxes and raised social welfare payments. Everyone was better off. Crime rates had fallen to their lowest level in 20 years; there were more gardaí on the streets and an extra 1,200 prison places. More money was being spent on health and education and a National Development Plan was under way.
Why, Mr Ahern asked, would the country want to return to political instability and the disastrous bust and borrowing policies of the Rainbow Coalition when Fianna Fáil was there to finish the job?
As for the downturn in the economy, nobody mentioned rising job losses and shrinking revenues. The Taoiseach opted for keeping Government spending "on a tight rein" as an alternative to imposing "job-killing taxes on individuals and business". But he did not spell out the implications of this approach for future investment.
Charlie McCreevy was equally evasive. Accepting there would be subdued economic growth in the coming years, the Minister for Finance pledged Fianna Fáil would not increase "direct tax rates". But he left the door open for indirect taxes and other charges.
Ignoring Government spending levels that were running at more than 20 per cent, while tax receipts had crashed, Mr McCreevy talked piously about "accurate and conservative budget and economic estimates" and "sound foundations". He spoke of avoiding a return to borrowing, but didn't say where the necessary cuts would come.
Such hard decisions would fall to the next government. And Fianna Fáil was confident of filling that slot. Bertie Ahern was riding high, the most popular of the party leaders by a mile. And Fianna Fáil was cantering.
But there was a cold doubt at the heart of euphoria. Could the electorate be waiting in the long grass because of past political chicanery? Unlikely. But with such high opinion poll ratings, how else could you explain the loss of two referendums and six by-elections?