June 1989. The last full month in which Ireland was governed by an elected Fianna Fail government. Unemployment stands at 233,000, jobs are like gold-dust. A general election, Charles Haughey's last push for a majority Government.
June 1989. What we know now. On the 7th, Ray Burke, outgoing Minister for Industry, Commerce and Communications, is handed a cheque for £30,000 from Rennicks Manufacturing at his home in Swords, Co Dublin.
Several days later - the precise date is unknown - the infamous meeting in Swords between Mr Burke and Mr James Gogarty. Accounts differ. Mr Gogarty says the politician was given £80,000, Mr Burke says he got £30,000.
In the same month, Mr Tom Gilmartin, an Irish property developer based in the UK, says he gave a £50,000 cheque to the then Minister for the Environment and Fianna Fail party treasurer, Mr Padraig Flynn. Mr Flynn has not denied receiving the cheque. Mr Gilmartin alleges the cheque was intended as a contribution to Fianna Fail. The party says it never got the money.
The election held on the 15th went badly for Fianna Fail. Mr Haughey hobbled along as a caretaker taoiseach until he swallowed his pride and went into coalition with the Progressive Democrats in July.
In the formal photograph of Charles Haughey's last Cabinet in 1989, the Taoiseach sits at the centre, his expression inscrutable as ever, his hands resting on the table. Standing square behind him are three of his prized lieutenants, Mr Flynn, Mr Burke and Mr Bertie Ahern.
Viewed from today's perspective, the group portrait prompts comparisons with skittles in a bowling alley. One by one, starting with the man in the centre, the balls have come rolling down, threatening to knock the smiles off the figures in the photograph.
Mr Haughey's lavish lifestyle had long been the subject of rumour and then investigation. Only this week we learned from the first day of the Moriarty tribunal about almost £1.3 million in payments for the benefit of Mr Haughey, on top of the £1.3 million in payments from Ben Dunne that were investigated by the McCracken tribunal.
Now, Mr Burke and Mr Flynn are the subject of detailed allegations about payments. And for the first time this week, Mr Ahern has entered the limelight, suffering what he has termed guilt by association.
But the developing controversy surrounding "the culture of 1989" has spread well beyond the Cabinet of the day, to TDs, councillors and political advisers who were active at the time. Mr Gogarty alleges he was told that Mr Burke could control councillors on Dublin County Council and his affidavit names six in particular. One, Mr Sean Walsh, left almost £250,000 in bank and building society accounts after his death, The Irish Times revealed in 1993. Three of the other five councillors are still active in politics.
Mr Burke's dealings with the wealthy have already come under scrutiny in other ways. A Department of Justice inquiry showed breaches of procedure in the granting of 11 Irish passports by him to a wealthy Saudi business family in 1990. This was done at the behest of Mr Haughey.
There were also questions about Mr Burke's awarding of MMDS television transmitter licences in the late 1980s. Twenty out of 29 of these monopoly licences went to companies owned or part-owned by the newspaper magnate, Dr Tony O'Reilly. Dr O'Reilly also controls Rennicks Manufacturing.
But this weekend, the frenzy of gossip and rumour in Dublin political circles is firmly focused on Mr Gilmartin's allegations, which he has termed "dynamite". One he has made public concerns a request for £100,000 from him by a Dublin county councillor for support in rezoning Mr Gilmartin's site at Quarryvale, where he was hoping to build the State's largest shopping centre. The councillor in question has denied the allegation.
Tom Gilmartin had a plan in the late 1980s to create 1,000 jobs with a £500 million investment. He had made millions in the UK and clearly wanted to do the same here. However, his ambitions for Quarryvale and another shopping centre at Bachelor's Walk ended in frustration and financial disaster.
The key to success or failure was State support. The lands at Quarryvale needed rezoning and a change in planning permission to allow the construction of a larger shopping centre than envisaged in the Dublin development plan. Mr Gilmartin was hoping for the same kind of favourable tax treatment which Mr Flynn had given for the development of The Square shopping centre in Tallaght a few years previously. For Bachelor's Walk, he was looking for a cash injection from the State of up to £54 million. Mr Gilmartin embarked upon a round of top-level meetings with politicians and civil servants. Although virtually unknown in Dublin, he seemed to gain access to the corridors of power with ease.
For reasons which only the Flood tribunal may get to the bottom of, neither project got off the ground. Arguably, both schemes were over-ambitious. The required policy changes and State backing were not forthcoming.
Mr Gilmartin says he lost £12 million on Bachelor's Walk; his experience with Quarryvale was equally chastening. Subsequently, he ran into difficulties with UK tax authorities. Mr Gilmartin's alleged donation of £50,000 to Mr Flynn represented but 0.1 per cent of the value of his proposed projects. He also paid Mr Liam Lawlor, the Fianna Fail TD for Dublin West, £3,500 a month for a period for his help on the Bachelor's Walk project.
Mr Lawlor says he got "two or three" such payments. He first described them as consultancy fees, but later told the Sunday Business Post they were political donations. Mr Gilmartin claims he made 10 monthly payments, and also paid Mr Lawlor £50,000 for work on Quarryvale.
When Mr Gilmartin ran into difficulties on the Quarryvale project, he brought in a Cork-based property developer, Mr Owen O'Callaghan. The latter took control of the project and opened a reduced-scale shopping centre on the site late last year.
The former Fianna Fail press officer, Mr Frank Dunlop, worked on his behalf on the Quarryvale project. He received £650,000 for this work, part of which was used to make political donations. One Fianna Fail councillor is said to have received substantial payments from Mr O'Callaghan.
And what of Mr Ahern's role in the events of this period?
One allegation being investigated by the planning tribunal concerns the claimed disappearance of files on special tax designation areas from the Department of the Environment. These were requisitioned by the Department of Finance at a time when Mr Ahern was minister. It is claimed the files found their way to a location outside both Departments. Mr Ahern and the Department of Finance have indicated they have no knowledge of the allegation.
The Taoiseach's efforts to investigate allegations came under scrutiny this week, when the number and level of his contacts with Mr Gilmartin was queried. But more seriously, his inquiry into the Gogarty payments seems seriously inadequate. Having promised to "climb every tree in north Dublin" to investigate allegations of planning corruption, he sent Mr Dermot Ahern to London to talk to Mr Joseph Murphy jnr, who says he wasn't even at the meeting with Mr Gogarty in Mr Burke's home. Surprisingly, he didn't talk to Mr Michael Bailey, the other participant and a long-time Fianna Fail supporter.
Mr Ahern knew about the £30,000 Rennicks payment to Mr Burke, but Fianna Fail failed to mention this in the affidavit it subsequently filed to the planning tribunal.
Politicians and wealthy people will always rub shoulders. But the interplay between money and power seemed especially strong at the heart of Fianna Fail in the late 1980s. The party was severely indebted and needed financial help. Frequent elections were a burden on resources. And the party was run by a politician whose name was forever linked with expensive tastes and wealthy friends.
The rumours of many years have now turned into public allegations. In some cases, these have been substantiated. This gives other claims a credibility they may not deserve. Which in turn breeds more allegations . . .