Charlie is the name of John Breen’s new play, but it’s not about cocaine, folks. It’s about a national hero/villain we Irish people have loved and hated and been addicted to, in varying degrees, since the 1960s: Haughey. Charles. But don’t go thinking this play will replicate either the pattern or, arguably, the failures of Sebastian Barry’s Hinterland by hauling on stage the predicable cast of characters including his mistress Terry Keane, wife Maureen and children. Breen has decided to bypass Haughey’s private life and focus instead on, well, the fact that he was – and to some, remains – one of the most powerful political figures in Irish history.

But it could also be argued that part of the hold Haughey had on the Irish psyche related to his private life, the alleged affairs, the suppression of such stories, the “loveable rogue” image. And if you leave out these human dimensions, how do you keep a play from becoming a polemical thesis, lacking flesh and blood?

“That was part of his power but it’s not dramatic,” Breen responds. “The conflict of politics, for me, is where the story is; the way he manipulated Fianna Fail and Fianna Fail’s image itself. And the human hook is that this play revolves around a mythical conversation Haughey has with a farmer in Northwest Mayo which crystallises Charlie’s relationship with the Fianna Fail grassroots and the nation in general. Charlie has betrayed this farmer and that leads to tension, conflict between them and the inevitable collision.

Although Breen’s Charlie Haughey at one point apologies to the farmer, it’s known that Haughey himself rarely, if ever, apologised and probably still believes he did nothing wrong. In other words, this may be the core Shakespearean flaw in his character which, partly, led to his downfall. All of which obviously makes the man a prime candidate for a dramatic re-telling of his life.

“In a way, that is the model for this play,” Breen says. “I read all the history plays, like Othello and writers like Cicero because I do see Haughey in that light.

“I think he very consciously modelled himself on such figures. That was part of the creation of the Haughey persona. Remember that TV show he did, My Ireland? He saw himself as its king. The idea of a king is that you are touched with divine grace and born to rule. And I think he felt that.”

How, then, does Breen think Charlies Haughey reconciles this “born to rule” belief with his fall from grace?

“As you say, I don’t think he believes he’s done anything wrong,” he says. “So, in the play, when he does apologise, that to me is a metaphor for national wish fulfilment. And if he did maybe we would forgive him. You can’t forgive unless somebody repents, and he’s never repented basically, because he doesn’t believe he’s done anything wrong.”

What does he think Charlie might make of Charlie?

“To be honest, I think if he saw this play he would find some of it very difficult to watch, but at the end of it, I think he’d say it’s fair,” says John. “So I don’t think I’ll end up on that list.”

And does he think Charlie will have the balls to attend the opening night?

“I don’t think so but maybe we could do a private performance for him in Kinsealy!”