Yesterday's history, tomorrow's a mystery, insists waffling Senator but real mystery remains sadly unsolved, writes MIRIAM LORD

CLOSE YOUR eyes and you could have been back in the Mahon tribunal, with a Fianna Fáil politician on the stand spewing an unmitigated stream of twaddle from his lips.

Ivor Callely’s self-serving performance was jaw-dropping on so many levels. He wasn’t sure of much, but what he did know is that, technically, he has done nothing wrong. He was certain people would understand this.

Senator Callely used every trick in the book to try and explain why he was claiming travel and subsistence expenses from his “principal residence” in the depths of west Cork when all indications are that he runs his life from his “family home” in the Dublin suburb of Clontarf.

But – and he couldn’t fathom why – the Seanad committee appeared to be buying none of it.

He played the victim card. He played the family circumstances card. He wiggled and squirmed and waffled. He trotted out little home-spun maxims to bolster his case. He attacked his questioners. He marvelled at how he can be so highly thought of among his peers in Europe, and persecuted by the political pygmies back home. (Wherever that may be, because wherever he lays his hat, that’s his home.)

He held the state of the nation in his arms and asked how could he be so abused when the people are crying out for leadership and unemployment queues are growing. He even made a thinly veiled reference to the competence of the Taoiseach.

All because of Ivor’s unique “anomaly” which, at one point, led him to wonder aloud if it were possible to have “two normal places of residences”, for expense purposes.

We thought Senators Joe O’Toole and Alex White would need oxygen when they heard that. The committee members looked like they didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Hands were smacked against incredulous brows. Heads were shaken. They appeared bemused, often baffled, frequently frustrated.

Just where does, or did, Senator Callely live when he was filling in his forms for those 700km-round trips from west Cork?

Damned if Ivor could tell them.

“I think, in fairness to me, I’ve put forward a fair and rational explanation,” he told Senator Dan Boyle at one stage.

“My residence is in west Cork and I’ve retained my family home for personal reasons,” he explained, more than once.

But O’Toole pointed out, with many facts to bolster his case, that all the evidence points to him living in Clontarf. “I don’t know what you do in west Cork,” he sighed in exasperation. “Everything you do, in terms of business, is done in Dublin.”

Not so, argued Ivor, who was sporting a lovely, deep tan. He has to be in the city to attend the Seanad, and then there are often family engagements and sporting fixtures to attend on the weekends and then the people of Dublin North Central expect him to be out and about on Saturday.

He’s a hard worker, you see. “The early bird, they always say, gets the name for rising early.”

It was very confusing.

In an effort to get some clarity, Alex White wanted to know where he lives now, or where he intends to live, for expense purposes.

“Yesterday’s history, tomorrow’s a mystery,” came the reply.

The beleaguered Senator’s west Cork neighbour, Senator Denis O’Donovan didn’t appear very sympathetic towards the man who so passionately claims to be a fellow resident. O’Donovan just had one question: Would Ivor be willing to return for further questioning if needed?

There followed a bizarre stream of consciousness from Callely, as tumbleweed blew through the committee room, eyes glazed over and answer there came none.

“It’s better to gardener [sic] the facts of the case,” he began, before setting off on his verbal frolic. We imagined a little sparrow settling on Ivor’s shoulder when he warbled “Saint Francis of Assisi comes to mind . . .” and he quoted someone else entirely.

The burden of proof isn’t on him anyway, they have not got legal evidence against him. And the public are crying out for leadership and students have no work and “there might be questions over the political leadership there at the moment”.

On he went, wondering why he was being pursued over “about €80,000” when it cost €392 million to run the Seanad over the same period.

What about issues of national importance? Then there was his trip last week to Oslo for the OSCE meeting, where he is held in very high regard.

He was needed at lots of meetings. “It’s very difficult for a sole member to be in many meetings, particularly when you’re at the top table.”

Still, it wasn’t all bad. “I was in Norway, where I had good support from the ambassador.”

Not to mention the “rain cloud” hanging over him.

And to cap it all, they summoned him to yesterday’s meeting and included a €50 cheque for his expenses. “It was insulting.”

And he flourished the offensive instrument. “This cheque is going to remain uncashed.”

There’s a first.

But for all his injured bluster, Ivor was drowning in a soup of his own inconsistency. Barrister Alex White really got under his skin. “I am not going to be bullied,” protested Ivor, more than once.

And then he referred darkly to people “claiming expenses for attending funerals”. He was immediately challenged by O’Toole, and backed down. He said he was referring to companies he used to work for.

Callely refused to give any quarter. The “mairead” of factors outlined by White and O’Toole, in his opinion, “didn’t really stock [sic] up”. And he hoped there would be a happy ever after with his family, “although its not easy to kiss and make up”.

Awful stuff.

But at least we know that Ivor “fulfilled my duties to Seanad Éireann from all three locations”.

Throw the book at him, lads, flimsy and all as it is.