that, if I did not know he was ill, I would not have even suspected it. He behaved precisely as he did before and even when he appeared at cabinet after treatment he conducted his usual workload. I did not notice any diminution in his capacity or determination. His only apparent concession to his illness was to bring a couch into his office to enable him to take a rest during the course of the day, when he needed to do so, and to develop a passion for green tea, but apart from these nods to his illness and a reduction in the large number of public and political commitments which he undertook, he continued to perform at a level which made it very difficult to believe that there was anything really wrong with him. Every now and again there would, however, be some little reminder of what he was confronting. I remember one day sympathising with him over some problem he had to deal with. He looked at me, smiled and shrugged and said that every day you are alive is a great day. I will never forget the remark. It was, as usual, made without self-pity or sorrow. It was a remark as simple as it was inspiring.
Many remember the dispiriting days of November 2010, but few remember the important external events which transformed the cautious optimism of early 2010 into the deep pessimism of November. As Donovan and Murphy point out,10 in a narrow and financial sense 2010 began relatively well for Ireland. Although the economy was still in deep recession, the NTMA continued to borrow at rates which, although slightly higher than normal, were well within an acceptable range. In the spring of 2010, it became clear that Greece was in real trouble and it applied, in April 2010, for a bailout. The emergency support for Greece did not calm the markets. In May 2010, shortly after the launch of the Greek Programme, EU member states decided on the creation of a €750 billion support fund for states cut off from market funding.11
As the true scale of the Greek problem became apparent and as it emerged that Greece had entered the EMU on the basis of fraudulent government statistics and had continued to report false numbers, the markets reacted angrily and Irish Government bond yields rose steadily from May 2010. In August 2010, Standard & Poors issued a very unfavourable rating assessment of Ireland. Market sentiment was worsened by the Deauville Declaration which followed a bilateral summit between Chancellor Merkel and President Sarkozy. The Declaration issued on 18 October 2010 suggesting that lenders in the sovereign debt market might face losses in future bailouts, had the effect of causing immense increases in Irish bond yields. These external developments created enormous problems for Ireland. In addition, the ECB was greatly concerned with its financial exposure to Ireland and the statement by ECB President Trichet in September 2010 expressed concern about the amount of Emergency Liquidity Assistance (ELA) outstanding to Anglo Irish Bank.
The Cabinet decided on Sunday 21 November 2010 to apply for financial assistance from the EU. Brian had to fly out to Brussels that Sunday morning to finalise the agreement and the bailout terms. He rang me from Baldonnell airport. Weather conditions were appalling. He had been up late the night before and had attended the Cabinet meeting at which the decision to apply for a bailout was made. As always, he was very focused. He was aware of the immensity of what he was doing and its consequences for Ireland. He gave no consideration to himself or what it might mean for him. His only concern was to achieve the best possible outcome for his country. Again, there was no sense of self-pity or regret that he had to discharge this unenviable task. It was an extremely poignant and historical moment. He was doing something which no other Finance Minister ever had to do. He knew too that he would forever be associated with this event and that all of his decisions since becoming Minister for Finance would be closely questioned and evaluated. He realised this evaluation would be conducted, in many cases, by those who were only too willing to criticise with the benefit of hindsight and with the luxury of never having had to make such difficult decisions and, particularly, decisions in such extraordinary and unforgiving circumstances. He also knew, only too well, that the bailout would have huge political consequences for him and his party. Again, however, there was no trace of self-pity or despondency and, above all, no regret that he had continued to fight the battle after the diagnosis of his illness.
Following the bailout, there was still much for Brian and the Government to do. A budget had to be introduced based on the economic programme prepared by the Government prior to the bailout and which was, in substance, adopted by the Troika, as the basis for the financial conditionality reflected in the Memorandum of Understanding to which Ireland was obliged to subscribe in order to obtain the benefit of the bailout. This budget inevitably carried very serious political consequences, as he and the Government acknowledged publicly at the time.
In December, Brian also introduced the Credit Institutions Stabilisation Bill, an extremely important and complex piece of legislation designed to provide a resolution framework for failing banks, while avoiding the ever-present risk of triggering a bond default consequent on such resolution, which would have had disastrous consequences for the banks and the economy generally. This was in large part unchartered territory. Brian steered this Bill through the Dáil and Seanad under an immensely tight time schedule. Its passage was essential to facilitate urgent State investment in the banks, including a vitally important investment in Allied Irish Banks the following day, and its passage was a condition of Troika support. The legislation was extremely controversial, but it provided a resolution framework for dealing with the troubled banks and for reducing the entitlements of subordinate bondholders.
The events of November and December 2010 would have overwhelmed even the strongest of people. It had been a truly momentous year for Brian, who must have encountered the full range of human emotions and, in addition, great stress and personal anxiety. It was a year which would have been mentally and physically exhausting for the toughest and fittest person. One can only wonder how any person could have survived all of this while undergoing treatment for his illness and yet perform so remarkably. Late on the evening of 23 December 2010, when most had given up any thought of any work until after Christmas, Brian contacted me and asked that we go for a drink to discuss important work that needed to be completed over the remaining life of the Government. By this stage, it was clear that the Government had only a very limited lifespan, as the Green Party had indicated its desire to leave Government after the budgetary measures had been passed. We went over to a nearby hotel together. Brian explained in detail and with clarity what he wished to achieve.
Brian’s only focus was on the country’s interest. He displayed no consideration for his personal convenience or comfort. Completing his public duty was his only objective. The meeting was relaxed and convivial, but there was no mistaking his determination to achieve these objectives and his willingness to do whatever was required of him in order to achieve them. Shortly before we got up to go, Brian spoke to me in words which are indelibly etched in my memory and which were said without self-pity or fear. He said: ‘You know I have only a very short time to live.’ That was the first and only time he had ever said that. He had always conducted himself as if his own survival was never an issue. It was impossible to respond in any meaningful way. I do not know what defines heroism or what makes people heroic and we should be very slow to use such an exalted term but for me that was the closest encounter I ever had with heroism.
Given Brian’s fondness for Milton, it is perhaps ironic that Milton’s Lycidas best expresses the overwhelming sense of loss at the passing of one who did so much and promised even more:
Bitter constraint and sad occasion dear
Compels me to disturb your season due;
For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime,
Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer,
Who would not sing for Lycidas? he knew
Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme.
He must not float upon his wat’ry bier
Unwept, and welter to the parching wind,
Without the meed of some melodious tear.12
