What Brown has had to say about parliamentary accountability is very interesting. He has instructed ministers not to bypass parliament and to involve themselves in proper parliamentary consultation on all major issues. Statements on government policy are to be made in parliament, where they can be scrutinised and questioned.

Parliament itself is to be given new powers, effectively keeping a check on the power of the executive.

All of this is in marked contrast to what goes on in the Dail. Under recent governments the Dail has become a rubber stamp. Major public policy positions are now announced at a press conference, with ministers issuing great tablets of wisdom. The Dail is bypassed and ignored. When a member of the Dail, either opposition or government deputy, attempts to raise the latest announcement, they are told that they are out of order.

I have noticed in recent years that the more controversial announcements are normally left for when the Dail is in recess.

Unfortunately, decision-making in our state is now the sole preserve of the executive.

Maybe Gordon Brown's reforms might catch on this side of the Irish sea. I wouldn't hold my breath under the current regime.

THIS day 80 years ago, arguably the most important event ever for Irish democracy took place. Its impact and the effects of what occurred over the following five days are still felt in politics today.

On 12 August, 1927, the 44 elected Fianna Fail deputies, led by Eamon de Valera, took their seats in Dail Eireann.

The losing side in the civil war had finally ended its policy of abstention and embraced the Free State legislature.

It only did so after much soul-searching and agonising.

In the general election of that year, the newly created Fianna Fail had stunned everybody by securing 44 seats, just three short of the ruling Cumann na nGaedhael's total. However, it remained outside the Dail, refusing to take the hated oath of allegiance, which involved expressing fidelity to the King of England. De Valera had planned to force a referendum on the oath by invoking a clause in the constitution that allowed for a referendum on any issue once a petition of 75,000 voters was produced.

However, the assassination of Kevin O'Higgins, the strongman of the Cumann na nGaedhael government, on his way to mass changed that. The President of the Executive Council (today known as the Taoiseach) William T Cosgrave reacted by introducing an act obliging all Dail candidates to pledge to take the oath and moving to remove the article in the constitution that would have allowed Fianna Fail to force a referendum on the oath.

Backed into a corner, de Valera came up with his famous 'empty formula' solution. He devised a ceremony whereby Fianna Fail TDs signed the book containing the oath, but covered the words while signing, placed the Bible face down in the furthest corner of the room and insisted they were not taking any oath.

The "painful and humiliating" (de Valera's description) deed done, Fianna Fail TDs duly took their seats in what was, not surprisingly, an atmosphere of tension in the House.

But it wasn't just the fact that the protagonists in the civil war were now facing each other on opposite sides of the house that caused the tension. There were practical politics at play also. Fianna Fail's entry into Leinster House changed the whole balance of the Dail. Cumann na nGaedhael, even allowing for the support of independents, was now a minority government and in serious danger of being turfed out of office.

On 16 August, just four days after Fianna Fail crossed their Rubicon, Labour leader Thomas Johnson moved a motion of no-confidence in the government. Fianna Fail . . . only in the Dail a couple of days . . . was in no position to go into government, but, naturally, de Valera was not averse to toppling Fianna Fail's bitter political rivals. He offered support to the Labour Party, which had 22 deputies, if it could put together a government. Johnson opened negotiations with some of the smaller groupings, including the National League . . . which was backed by many unionists and former supporters of John Redmond's Irish Parliamentary Party . . . and even got as far as agreeing on a cabinet.

With the 44 Fianna Fail deputies on board, the no-confidence motion seemed guaranteed to succeed. Such was the level of confidence among the opposition that Labour TD TJ O'Connell was not even asked to come home from a teachers' conference in Canada for the vote.

What happened next caused one of the greatest sensations in the early days of the new state, and even made Time magazine. One of the National League deputies, John Jinks of Sligo, wasn't pleased at the prospect of voting with de Valera. On the day of the vote, he bumped into government . . . and former unionist . . .

TD Major Bryan Cooper, who invited him to lunch to discuss the matter further.

What happened next has never been fully established (Jinks later claimed he had acted after careful consideration), but the rumour was that Cooper plied Jinks with drink over lunch and then escorted him in a befuddled state to Westland Row train station where Jinks boarded the Sligo train. With Jinks otherwise engaged on a train journey to the west, the vote was tied at 71 for and 71 against. The Ceann Comhairle gave his casting vote for the government . . . Cosgrave and Cumann na nGaedhael were saved.

It remains to this day one of the great 'what ifs' of Irish politics. If Jinks had voted along with his party, Labour would have been in power. It never again came close to being the main government party. But who knows what impact it would have had on the party's future fortunes . . . and on those of Cumann na nGaedhael/Fine Gael and Fianna Fail . . .

had Tom Johnson become President of the Executive council 80 years ago this week? While de Valera missed out on the chance to wipe the eye of Cumann na nGaedheal, it certainly worked out better for his party in the long run, as it became the most dominant political force in western politics.

But whether or not you believe this was a good thing, there can be no question of the benefit that flowed from Fianna Fail's entry into the Dail on this day eight decades ago. It was one of the two days . . . 9 March 1933, the date Fianna Fail took office for the first time in a remarkably smooth transfer of power from Cumann na nGaedhael, being the other . . . that copperfastened Irish democracy.

Given what would happen over the following few decades elsewhere in Europe, that certainly makes it worth marking.