Politicians can be a gregarious lot, but when in bad temper they can hold grudges and gnaw like a dog with a bone over gripes and past slights, perceived and real, writes Mark Hennessy
The Fianna Fáil parliamentary party is in that sort of form at the moment. Getting it in the neck from voters in the constituencies, TDs find little relief during their three days a week in the Dáil.
Unhappiness has bred wayward conduct, particularly Carlow/Kilkenny's Mr John McGuinness, Cork North Central's Mr Noel O'Flynn and Cork East's Mr Ned O'Keeffe. Now somewhat of a discordant trio, they have not been slow to head for reporters' microphones to moan publicly about the Government's performance.
This week, the parliamentary party chairman, Mr Seamus Kirk, suggested a new code of practice to bring some discipline into the Leinster House ranks.
The move is not an effort to censor, leading party figures insist earnestly. Rather, it is an attempt to restore the unity - in public at any rate - which has served Fianna Fáil well in the past.
The decision of Mr McGuinness to publish a critique of the Progressive Democrats' influence on the larger coalition partner in the Irish Independent earlier this month has left a sour taste.
The PDs have nudged Fianna Fáil off course, made it more right-wing and subtly infected its agenda and values, he complained, though he failed to back up the charge subsequently on RTÉ's Morning Ireland.
The declaration was but the latest in a series from the TD, a wealthy businessman who is clearly frustrated with the barren lot of a backbencher and the lack of senior office.
The newspaper article caused worried brows to form on those, elected and otherwise, who flank the Taoiseach, particularly amid rumours that other TDs were set to put pen to paper. Was this the first sign of a plot? Was he a stalking horse?
The reality is that the trio could not fill such a role even if they might want to do so. Regarded as mavericks, none of them are particularly popular amongst colleagues.
The latter point can be illustrated by the reaction to Mr O'Keeffe's assertion that the Department of Agriculture has not seen political leadership since Fine Gael's Ivan Yates was in charge. In private, most of them agree with Mr O'Keeffe's verdict on the Minister for Agriculture, Mr Walsh, who has held ministerial office for every year bar two since 1987.
Though colleagues bow to Mr O'Keeffe's extraordinary knowledge of agriculture, all, however, are equally aware of the poisonous relationship which exists between the two Corkmen.
"Look, nobody argues with Ned's assessment as such. But you can't go around saying that a Fine Gaeler is a better minister than one of our lot. That just isn't done," complained one.
Equally, the trio's influence can be judged by the fact that a number of TDs were prepared to castigate Mr McGuinness in particular during this week's parliamentary party.
In the end, Mr Kirk came forward with the code of practice idea, though he was vague about what would be deemed acceptable conduct. Ideas from the floor were sought, and the replies, if any, should be back after Easter. The reality is, however, that Fianna Fáil has bucket loads of disciplinary rules.
Instead of satisfying the demands for order, the code simply led to irritation - particularly amongst those who fear that it would cause a mini-McCarthyite atmosphere.
Instead of new rules, most TDs want the Taoiseach actually to lead, even if only for now. For years, he has advanced by nods and winks and the language of evasion: rarely confronting problems; always seeking to slide by.
The strategy has worked well up to now. However, it has created a vacuum. Members of the parliamentary party simply do not know where they stand with him. And it increasingly annoys them.
If he chose to do so, the Taoiseach could bring a motion before the parliamentary party criticising any one of them, particularly Mr McGuinness. Presumably, it would pass.
Last year, he criticised Mr O'Flynn at a meeting of the parliamentary party after the Cork TD had made unacceptable comments about asylum-seekers. However, Mr O'Flynn was given enough notice so that Mr Ahern could deliver a metaphorical rap on the knuckles but yet avoid a face-to-face confrontation.
Following the election, Mr O'Flynn was given the chair of the Oireachtas Committee on Communication, Marine and Natural Resources, a nice perk carrying an extra €15,000 a year. The rise irked. So too did the promotions of a number of other TDs to Ministers of State rank and the survival of some of those who had already reached that level and failed to impress.
Predictably, the internal tribulations have led to a renewed flurry about Mr Ahern's political intentions, and about the intentions of those who would see themselves as his replacement.
For months, significant numbers of FF deputies have increasingly convinced themselves that Bertie is on his last lap, though the evidence to date is pretty thin on the ground. If anything, his appetite appears undiminished. However, Mr Ahern's refusal to confront is seen by some colleagues not as clever politics but weakness. Soon more will think the same. And politicians despise weakness.