Soon everyone will be able to do the math. This month Haughey–now 75 and suffering from prostate cancer–will testify for the last time before the official inquiry that’s been exploring the sources of his wealth for the last three years. Among the charges: a so-called golden circle of senior businessmen contributed at least £8.5 million to help fund the prime minister’s lifestyle. A single retailing tycoon, Ben Dunne, paid out more than £1 million. How Haughey’s benefactors profited is still unknown, but the overall picture is clear. Today’s shiny new-look Ireland, a global favorite of high-tech investors and the European Union’s economic pacesetter through the ’90s, emerged from a world of sleaze and cronyism. The scandals surrounding Haughey, one architect of the current boom, have come to symbolize a grubby past that Ireland is seeking to purge. “This [tribunal] is about catharsis,” says former M.P. Conor Cruise O’Brien. “Ireland is now among the rich countries of the world and it is starting to look curiously back.”
That backward glance has shown a pattern of questionable behavior that appears to embrace more than just the prime minister and a few friends. The tribunal’s legal team has claimed, for instance, that Haughey was just one of 120 of Ireland’s superrich–including business leaders–to profit from an elaborate tax scam involving offshore accounts in the Cayman Islands. Another inquiry is looking at how pols and civil servants took cash from businessmen to rezone land around Dublin for development. Former foreign minister Ray Burke resigned three years ago following reports linking him to one of the builders. An inquiry into the beef industry in the mid-’90s found evidence of fraud and unsavory links between government and business. Few weeks go by without some new disclosure as the circle widens. Last month saw one M.P. jailed for a week for refusing to supply financial details to a tribunal. Even current Prime Minister Bertie Ahern may not be immune. As a former Haughey aide, he’s alleged to have countersigned blank checks drawn on his Fianna Fail party’s funds for his boss’s use. Ahern, too, insists he did nothing wrong.
How could such scandal flourish? As so often in Ireland, history provides one answer. Eight centuries of British rule bred a defiant, cheat-if-you-can attitude. “There is a general disrespect for authority [in Ireland],” says Michael Laver, a political scientist at Trinity College, Dublin. “It is not so terribly bad to be on the wrong side of the law: it can be a badge of honor.” On the other hand, there are plenty who blame Haughey for bringing corruption right to the heart of government and fostering public skepticism about the links between business and government. “I think the ‘brown paper envelope’ is part of life here,” says Thomas Keogh, a spectator at a tribunal hearing last week. “People have got away with it for so long that it is built into the political system.”
Whatever the public mood, as a judgment on today’s Ireland that’s too harsh. After all, the country has been rescued from sleaze partly by the policies adopted by governments of the Haughey era. The construction of the landmark International Financial Services Center in Dublin’s derelict docklands was a pet Haughey project. The inflow of multinationals, from Intel to Microsoft, lured by generous tax breaks and a well-trained work force, means that business is no longer dominated by a narrow elite. The practice of bribing politicians belongs to the old era, says Gina Quin of the Dublin Chamber of Commerce. These days Ireland exports three times more per capita than the EU’s average. “You will find that our members operate to the best business standards,” says Quin. “That’s how one competes and actually makes a successful business in these days of a global economy.” The politicians, too, have smartened up their act. All the major parties have announced plans to beef up their rules on accepting outside payments. Haughey’s legacy of economic reform has been tarnished forever by the scandal. But at least it has prompted the cleanup of corrupt old ways.
