Miriam Lord/Dail sketch:They mustered in the front bench stalls in their ministerial silks. Horses for courses, right down to the long faces, ready to defend their party leader.
A more impressive display of blinkers you wouldn't have seen at a maiden bumper in Bellewstown.
These things happen. Bertie's Bank of Drumcondra was found to have been indulging in unbelievable financial practices, causing widespread unrest among investors in the democratic process. Yesterday, the Government moved swiftly to bail out their Northside Rock, as disgruntled members of the Opposition queued up to withdraw their confidence in Ahern's credibility.
"Move along, nothing to see!" insisted the Ministers, carefully adjusting their blinkers in case they might be knocked off stride by something they didn't want to see.
Such as the blindingly obvious.
New Labour leader Eamon Gilmore cut to the chase during his first outing at Leaders' Questions. He was referring to Taoiseach Ahern's recent tribunal evidence on how he amassed large and unexplained lots of cash in very bizarre circumstances. It is now generally accepted that not even the dogs in the street believe Bertie's evolving version of events.
The embarrassed silence emanating from his backbenchers indicated that they aren't too convinced by his yarns either.
Gilmore explained that he had waited, as had been requested by the Taoiseach, until he had a chance to get into the witness box in Dublin Castle and tell his side of the story.
"Well, Taoiseach, I don't believe your explanation," said Eamon, with feeling.
They don't call people liars in Dáil Éireann. It's the worst of the worst four-letter words that can be used in the chamber. So they never say it straight out.
But the imputation of the Labour leader's declaration wasn't lost on his audience.
The fidgeting stopped. There was total silence.
Bertie Ahern sat with his head bowed, doodling on a piece of paper.
"There is national disbelief about the evidence you gave to the tribunal," continued Eamon, as the Ministers gave silent thanks for the comforting benefits of a good pair of blinkers.
"It's a resigning issue, and would be in any other country," pointed out the Deputy.
Fianna Fáil's most seasoned hecklers stayed remarkably quiet.
Then Eamon Gilmore said three simple words, uttered in a tone of quiet resignation, rather than hope. "These things matter."
They don't in Leinster House. They didn't yesterday. All that mattered was that the Government had the numbers to disregard the Opposition's motion of no confidence, and push through their own confidence vote in Bertie Ahern. Very few, on all sides, believed what the Taoiseach told the tribunal - they're smart people. But that's of no consequence. Because everyone, on all sides, believed that when the noise died down, nothing would change.
In his reply, Bertie returned to the mantra he has chanted throughout the payments controversy. He did not receive any money from property developer Owen O'Callaghan.
"I never said that you DID receive anything from Mr O'Callaghan," shot back Eamon. "My question is about the country's disbelief." The Labour leader wasn't going to be sidetracked into any discussion on the ins-and-outs of Bertie's foreign exchange transactions when he was minister for finance. "I think your story to the tribunal is a cock-and-bull story."
Bertie never lifted his head. The backbenchers shifted in their seats. "People in this country have great affection for you and have great respect for what you have done, but you can't take the people of this country for gullible fools."
Whereupon the Taoiseach proceeded to repeat his tribunal tale of discovering acres of documents to the investigation team. (Which explains why tribunal counsel Des O'Neill spent nearly two full days showing how Bertie discovered all but the vital links they had been asking for.)
Leaders' Questions didn't last very long. "I gave the account that I believed to be totally truthful," murmured Bertie.
First part of his ordeal over. The chamber emptied. The Ministers, helpfully blinkered, bolted for the doors.
Bertie sighed, sat back and ran his finger around the inside of his collar. He stared into space.
It was a fleeting respite. Within the hour, the Opposition had returned with their motion of no confidence and demanding his resignation.
Not-so-poor, put-upon Bertie sighed and got to his feet again. "It is unusual circumstances, but, through no fault of mine, there is a motion of no confidence put down in me," he said with a straight face.
Again, he plunged into the tribunal confusion, not forgetting to say there was no evidence linking him to developer O'Callaghan. He urged the public to read the transcripts, instead of being swayed by "sound bites".
Here's the address: www.planningtribunal.ie. Click on to the transcripts. You'll be none the wiser. Although the chairman's comments on Monday about the issue of compliance are interesting. They don't bear out yesterday's Government roars that Judge Mahon gave Bertie a clean bill of health in regard to co-operation. He merely said it will be a matter for future consideration.
Bertie's speech bamboozled, but there was little new information.
"And you called Gay Mitchell a waffler?" snorted Fine Gael's John Deasy.
His leader Enda Kenny delivered a robust speech, addressing standards in high office.
"The scale may well be different from that of Mr Haughey. But scale does not alter standards. It may well have happened at a time of change for the Taoiseach. But circumstances do not alter standards . . . To take such monies for personal use was simply wrong. If it was wrong for Charles Haughey, then it was wrong for Deputy Ahern," said Enda.
The Labour leader was equally strong. And between them, they pointed out the absurdities in the Taoiseach's forgetful accounts of briefcases full of cash, large cash withdrawals and forgotten lodgements.
The Greens looked glum. Very glum. Kenny and Gilmore excoriated them. It's a long way from the days when Trevor Sargent got fits of the vapours remembering the day he was given a small cheque by a developer, and was wrestled to the ground by Cllr Don Lydon when he waved it at a council meeting.
Maybe the Greens are taking the view that the Taoiseach's changing explanations about taking loads of cash when he was a senior minister could be seen as "organic".
Their leader, John Gormley, chose to ignore Bertie's actions and talk about the melting ice caps.
Then the parade of the blinkered eyes fixed on extolling Ahern's track record and attacking the opposition.
Willie O'Dea treated the whole episode like it was one big joke. Bertie didn't receive "large sums of money" Oh no, they were "a number of small ones". Enough to buy a number of small houses. Was he having a laugh? His boss didn't look amused.
Willie told Enda Kenny that "you're not a stuffed shirt, you're a hole with air".
He informed Eamon Gilmore he was "acting as the parliamentary version of the barber's cat, and we know what components made up that creature." He didn't supply the answer, which is "full of wind and piss". Well done, Willie.
Dermot Ahern accused the Opposition of "lining up against the most popular Taoiseach in the history of the State".
Brian Cowen nearly burst a blood vessel as he bellowed his support for Bertie. "I believe political loyalty is a virtue," were his closing words, as the backbenchers applauded.
His leader, the Taoiseach, took cash for his personal use when he was minister for finance. A majority of people don't believe their Taoiseach's explanations.
A virtue, for sure, for the faithful Cowen. But when does political loyalty end and accountability begin? When the party decides it's time to remove the blinkers.