A man who put duty before everything

YESTERDAY was a sad day for anyone who understands that a truly successful democracy — and therefore society — relies on men and women of the purest and most determined motives dedicating their lives and talents to public service.

Brian Lenihan, who died yesterday aged 52 after an 18-month battle with pancreatic cancer, epitomised the selflessness, the grit and charm so essential when facing the challenges brought by high office.

There is no doubt that he became Minister for Finance at the most difficult juncture in modern times. He and his cabinet colleagues faced enormous challenges, challenges beyond anything their predecessors — and possibly their successors too — could ever have imagined.

So when his illness was identified at Christmas 2009 he could have been forgiven for standing aside, for passing the poisoned chalice to another, but in a display of stoicism, real courage and commitment to public service very rarely seen, he dedicated what he must have known would be very precious months to public duty. When many of us would have sought well-deserved sympathy he persevered because he believed it was the right thing to do.

On days like this it should be possible to separate the consequences of decisions from motives behind them and in that light Brian Lenihan can be remembered amongst the most committed servants of Ireland. Some of his decisions are bitterly disputed and the consequences bitterly felt but not even his most ardent critics would suggest that he had anything other than the very best, the very highest motives when he made them. Indeed, had some of his immediate predecessors been as dedicated to serving this society rather than a philosophy or an economy we might not have lost our economic sovereignty.

It was a measure of the respect he was held in that less than a year ago he was invited to give the annual oration at the Michael Collins commemoration at Béal na mBláth. He was the first senior Fianna Fáil figure to speak at this, one of Fine Gael’s high altars, and he used the occasion to promote unity of purpose and accentuate possibilities rather than differences.

It does not greatly diminish his memory to recall that he served in a political organisation that has brought this country to its knees. Though he never had to say that mystery money in one of his bank accounts was won on the horses or that it came from his mother, he sustained a leader and a culture that saw nothing wrong with this kind of contemptuous behaviour.

That his sad passing leaves Fianna Fáil without a Dáil representative in all of Dublin confirms that kind of gombeenism is no longer acceptable to an electorate weary of hubris and deceit. Indeed, Fianna Fáil will feel his loss particularly because, as the party’s deputy leader, he was perfectly placed to contribute to the task of rebuilding that humiliated party.

Brian Lenihan spent the last years of his political career in the most challenging circumstances but he did so with dignity, courage and an inspiring degree of personal dignity and selflessness. He deserves to be remembered with fondness and respect.