Too Good to Be True?

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Irish prime minister Bertie Ahern is not one for formalities. Seconds after hitting the streets of Dublin last week to campaign for re-election, passers-by were warmly greeting him by his first name. It's the same wherever he goes; everyone knows the Prime Minister, or Taoiseach, as Bertie. "He just comes across as an ordinary bloke," said Dubliner Anna Deeley after pressing the flesh with the Irish leader.

Such easygoing popularity should seal Ahern's bid to return to office. Irish electors have a knack for throwing up surprises, but polls say the only real question is how big Bertie's victory will be after votes are cast on Friday. His Fianna Fáil party, which currently leads its nearest rival by 22 points, could capture an outright majority in the Irish Parliament for the first time in 25 years. That result would confirm the verdict of Charles Haughey, four-time Taoiseach, who described Ahern as "the cleverest, most cunning, the best of the lot."

Before Ahern's election in 1997, stability had gone missing from Irish politics. Five elections in the 1980s were followed by three fragile and poisonous coalitions. A semblance of calm returned with the start of an economic boom in the 1990s that is still filling the Dublin skyline with cranes and the streets with shiny new cars. But the faltering world economy has bumped up concerns of a bust. And Ahern's opponents claim he used the boom to fuel wealth rather than to build public services.

But Ahern has already confounded critics by steering his shaky coalition to the first full five-year term of any Irish government since World War II, despite a series of corruption allegations. Fianna Fáil has been particularly prone to scandal. In the most notable case, Ahern was forced to dump a Fianna Fáil Member of Parliament who went to jail and paid fines of ?31,700 rather than explain his numerous overseas business deals. Ireland now rates alongside Chile on the Transparency International corruption scale. But the sleaze hasn't stuck to Ahern, earning him the nickname "Teflon Taoiseach."

But he has been far from infallible. His government badly misjudged the electorate twice in the past year, losing two referendums. The first — on the E.U.'s Nice Treaty that set forth reform measures in preparation for the Union's planned enlargement — was soundly rejected by voters; and the second — an attempt to tighten up the constitutional ban on abortion — was opposed by both pro-life and pro-choice factions. Despite all this, Ireland's buoyant economy has kept Ahern's approval rating above 65% for most of his first term. "You know about [the scandals] that go on," says Damian Hartnett, a Dublin motorcycle courier who was out of work before Ahern came to power. "But when the other lot were in, the boats were full of young fellas going to England for work."

Emigration has traditionally starved the Irish economy, and the country's population today is still 40% lower than it was 160 years ago. But now the tide has turned. Tax cuts and an influx of high-tech businesses have boosted long-term economic growth to four times the European average. Astonishingly, large numbers of émigrés have been returning home to work. The economic growth is starting to look too good to last, but it has been coupled with profound social change. The once all-embracing influence of the Catholic Church has declined, and the positive effects of the Northern Ireland peace process have rippled south.

There are warning signs, however. Inflation is high, and the European Central Bank's one-size-fits-all interest rate has made it more difficult to control. Young voters, who have little memory of the lean years, are bewildered by the spiraling cost of living in Dublin. This brewing discontent may propel Sinn Féin, the political wing of the Irish Republican Army, into the mainstream. After riding the Northern Ireland peace process to impressive election gains there, the party is looking hungrily to the south. Sinn Féin will remain a small party, but by emphasizing the need to invest the proceeds of the boom in services for the poor and elderly, it could win enough seats to become a power broker. Sinn Féin's popularity will be largely down to the appeal of its leader, Gerry Adams. He often finishes second to Ahern in popularity polls. And, perhaps worryingly for Ahern, the voters call him Gerry.