What does the future hold for Fianna Fáil's leadership?

First, let us roll back the clock to the early autumn of 2007. The setting is the scenic Druids Glen resort in Wicklow, where Fianna Fáil is holding a pre-Dáil term meeting.

It is day one of the gathering, and the party's TDs and senators are swarming around one man. Not the long serving leader who has spearheaded an election victory and a comfortable return to government for a third successive term.

Instead, Brian Cowen is the man they want to be near, to talk to, to laugh at his irreverent take on matters.
He is the one who will help validate their next electoral ticket, they believe.

Bertie Ahern may still be the boss at this point, but the tectonic plates that encased his leadership are beginning to pull apart.

Scroll forward to the autumn of this year, to Tuesday 23 September, and Jim O'Callaghan is taking Leaders Questions in the Dáil.

There are the customary direct exchanges with Sinn Féin on the cost-of-living crisis. He says nothing that the Taoiseach and party leader, Micheál Martin, would not say, but he delivers it differently.

Fianna Fáil TDs are enthusiastic and feel he has taken the fight to the Sinn Féin leader, Mary Lou McDonald. Afterwards, they clamber down the steps of the Dáil chamber, eager to shake his hand, to slap him on the back and to exclaim "well done Jim," as they greet him.

To borrow an image from Yeats, it seems many of them have already spread their political dreams under his feet.

The parallels with 2007 are striking.

However, this time there is no tribunal of inquiry, pitilessly chipping away at the credibility of the incumbent Taoiseach. Yet, there are questions of judgment and perception that are not quite resolved in the aftermath of a review of the presidential campaign.

The discussion it generated at last week's parliamentary party meeting was described as nasty and even brutal at times.

Mr Martin's words this time were not ones of contrition but rather defensive in nature, as he rounded on some critics, and the word "lie" was thrown around on a few occasions.

If he felt that the examination of the botched presidential effort would put clear distance between himself and the debacle that could cost Fianna Fáil up to €400,000, well, that did not happen.

The words of Pat the Cope Gallagher summed up the stinging atmosphere in the hot and stuffy room when he vowed that the matter would not end that night. It is different to the previous moments of peril Mr Martin has found himself in, given that they were often followed by periods of calm.

This time, the peace feels jittery.

Many in the party still cannot understand how Jim Gavin's historic dispute with a tenant remained unearthed after Fianna Fáil's top brass were alerted to the issue in broad terms by journalist Fionnán Sheahan in the early days of September.

The explanation offered is that there was no public evidence of the discord, and Mr Gavin failed to recollect the incident on at least five occasions.

Then there is the matter of the party's upper echelons, who laid the tracks through the summer months for the arrival of Mr Gavin's candidacy.

All the while, the rest of Fianna Fáil, based on the Taoiseach's utterances, were not entirely sure if there would be a candidate at all, and secondly, they did not expect a decision until possibly September.

This was again as a result of Mr Martin's earlier statements. It was a strategy that left those outside of the inner loop in the dark. This way of doing things was strongly criticised by Barry Cowen and Erin McGreehan last Wednesday.

It all feeds into the view that this leader's style is top-down in approach, and concepts like consultation with the rank and file are mere irritants.

Those who firmly believe this were given further fodder when the long-awaited campaign review only landed in their hands one hour before the parliamentary party meeting, despite a promise that morning to share it with colleagues promptly. The move even annoyed those on the party's middle ground who felt it was petty.

It is notable too that Mr Gavin was given the leader's imprimatur after just one lengthy meeting and there was no polling carried out to see if he connected with voters.

In the meeting, there were discussions about Mr Gavin's often dour media performances when he coached the Dublin footballers, but he assured the Taoiseach that this was just part of the required defensive mode for inter-county managers. Things would be different on the campaign trail.

While the political charge sheet is growing longer, those plotting the leader's demise are not viewed by all within the party as master strategists.

Indeed, as the five-hour meeting dragged on in Leinster House last Tuesday night, there were opinions aplenty on the matter at the festive Fianna Fáil staff party taking place just up the road in Foley's bar.

"If there is a coup underway, they are making a balls of it," was one less-than-polite assessment. The logic underpinning this sentiment is that a heave requires a group to do two things. That is: putting down a no confidence motion, coupled with the public backing of a likely successor. Neither has happened yet despite the heat and the vitriol of the last week.

Those backbench TDs involved in planting what they regard as ongoing mini political detonations believe the party's middle ranks are not yet amenable to a move that would "take out the leader," although the time could be nearing.

It is worth noting that most of those who command some sway on the centre ground of the party did not come to Mr Martin's aid during the heated meeting last Wednesday. Several ministers and TDs expressed confidence in him the following day, however.

As the Christmas season begins, those on the rebel side talk of their respect for Mr Martin’s work rebuilding the party and express a hope that he will "wake up one morning, look in the mirror," and make the decision himself.

That seems to be an optimistic take from those who hope any coup can be bloodless and party unity maintained. This way of thinking also runs contrary to the form guide for Mr Martin’s career, which is peppered with moments of hard-fought political survival. It is undeniable, though, that he is now regarded as a party leader who is walking on the thinnest of ice.

To demonstrate their sense of the collective, the party meeting did end with a show of unity as a minute's silence was observed for Robert Troy's father, Paddy, who had died earlier that day.

It was a moment of reverent solemnity on an otherwise acrimonious and wounding week for Fianna Fáil.