I am a multi-millionaire. I want to make an impact on Irish life through influencing a referendum, even though my point of view has little support. I know how these things work, particularly if the issue is complicated.


There are buttons to be pushed. There are ways of turning heads. There are marketing and advertising and public-relations honchos who do this sort of thing in their sleep. I employ these people. I spend a lot of money, over a million squid.


I am on the pig's back, pushing my agenda on the people of Ireland through the intelligent deployment of huge resources. I am now a player in the democratic game, and I haven't even stood for election.


I found getting around the law to be a piece of cake. The law stipulates that my organisation cannot receive more than €6,349.69 from any one individual as a political donation, in any single year. That includes me. I can give no more than the six grand odd, but who's counting?


The law isn't policed. There is no requirement to report on spending to the Standard in Public Offices commission. But most importantly, the law states that I don't have to reveal the identity of my hundreds or thousands of donors. I could, for example, get five grand from Mickey Mouse. Or I might count among my donors every headbanger from Barney the Dinosaur to CIA operatives, and who's to know, because it's nobody's business but mine.


The law is thus designed, not for my benefit, but for that of the main political parties. They don't want the public to know who is lining their pockets. Their donors might be shy types, and therefore less inclined to fund the democratic process if their identity was revealed. So everything stays under wraps. And what's sauce for the Fianna Fáil goose, is sauce for my gander. We are equal under the law, just a little more equal than the great unwashed who troop into polling stations. I love this country.


There is no evidence that Declan Ganley has broken the law on funding his organisation, Libertas, which was to the fore in the No vote in Lisbon. There is no reason to disbelieve his stated motivations as patriotic fervour and the future of his children.


But his campaign does throw up major questions about democracy and the law. Libertas spent at least €1.3m on the campaign, roughly the same as Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael combined. Ganley says he donated the legal limit, €6,349.69. From where did the remainder come?


Not from the other elements of the No camp, the Shinners, the left-wing groups, the pro-life crowd. Ganley's right-wing economic viewpoint did attract kindred spirit Ulick Mc-Evaddy, who's good for six grand. But where are the other hundreds or thousands of Ulicks, pillars of business who are going against the business and political establishment, and crucially, too shy to raise their own voices. Do they exist?


Ganley says his campaign is funded by donations from "ordinary people". The problem is we will never know, because the law says he
doesn't have to tell us. We are not privy to the identities of those who funded a major campaign on a crucial issue from a seemingly very narrow base of support.


Surprisingly, the main parties have not raised this issue in the campaign, despite their anger that the money spent by Libertas is wholly unaccounted for. Fine Gael's Lucinda Creighton pointed to Ganley's links to US neo-cons, but she didn't question the law under which he operated. Fianna Fáil stayed schtum. They know where their bread is buttered. In last year's general election, only the source of €1m out of €11m spent during the campaign was publicly revealed.


The laws governing spending – the electoral and standard in public office acts – were enacted in response to the smell emanating from the tribunals. We were led to believe this was the cleaning-up of the interface between business and politics. In reality, we were subjected to the mushroom treatment, kept in the dark and fed manure.


In such an environment, Ganley prospered, playing the main parties at their own, cynical game. The law in this area is a blind, dumb and stupid ass.


mclifford@tribune.ie