The first thing to be said about this book is that it provides some rare insights, not only into the innards of the various governments of which Barry Desmond was a member, but into the processes of government itself. It is also a valuable contribution to the necessary demystification of the political elite and its activities. "Telling it like it is" is Barry's motto and, with some reservations, this is largely his technique.
The author has not always had a good press. The quickness of his native Cork footwork - he played once against Christy Ring - has aroused envy and indignation in equal proportions. He has been widely maligned on the Left as someone prepared to pay any price for political power. But he also has an inner consistency and, on occasion, a raw courage that has stood him in good stead. He did himself out of a ministry by standing up for Frank Cluskey when Michael O'Leary assumed the Labour leadership. And he must be the only Minister for Health ever to have closed a hospital (even if it was only a small one) in his own constituency.
His pen-portraits of contemporaries are acutely drawn, with an evident attempt at even-handedness in most cases. He is a bit unfair to Noel Browne. Certainly James Deeny's anti-TB plans were there when Browne assumed office, but plans - as Barry would be the first to agree - are nothing without resources, and Browne got the money. Gemma Hussey was an irredeemable Mount Anville prefect - but also a splendid potential Minister for Europe (a plan of Garrett's that Desmond scotched, with Peter Barry's help). Alan Dukes was a "close colleague" - but later, as leader of Fine Gael, is depicted as treating his front bench colleagues "as a senior psychiatrist treats a group of psychotic patients".
In all of this, the author sometimes sells himself a bit short. Pen portraits are all very well in their own way, but we miss some of the pungent analysis in depth that Barry, of all people, is admirably equipped to give us: of the internal dynamics of the Labour Party; of the relations between unions and government, and between the health boards and his department; and of the future for democratic government in Ireland, faced by the twin challenges of the EU, and of centralised collective bargaining across almost the entire spectrum of social and political, as well as fiscal and wage issues. There are also some annoying proofing errors ("George Coley", "Sean Tracey", "Colm O Broin", "Fianna Gael"); and Barry will no doubt be delighted to hear that Ted Russell is very much alive.
The gaps are all the more tantalising in the light of his revelation that, on his recent peregrination to Luxembourg as a member of the Court of Auditors, he was accompanied by a container containing no less than three tons of his personal papers. Nobody who knows Barry's predilection for collection will be surprised, and there is evidence of it sprinkled throughout the book. Like the Ancient Mariner, he reminds us that Conor Cruise O'Brien once campaigned for Bernadette Devlin's election to the Westminster parliament. He has squirreled away a copy of Liam Hamilton's election address from the time when the former Chief Justice stood as a Labour candidate for Dublin Corporation. And there are notes on a host of other political events and unguarded statements that many of the protagonists must wish had been decently forgotten.
More's the pity, therefore, that he did not mine this treasure trove to greater depth. Even so, there are hints of what else it contains: unpublished government papers, antique party documents, and political ephemera of all kinds. Maybe it should all be preserved in situ, like Francis Bacon's studio.
There is an engaging frothiness about his account of his own political odyssey, but there are also reefs hidden beneath the effervescence, passages which reveal occasional deep antipathies, and the political bottom line which is only rarely visible to the untrained eye. This, for example, is part of his judgment on John Hume:
Hume has provided an alibi for peace to the IRA. They both now live with a devolved Northern Ireland Assembly and an Executive. In giving the cloak of respectability to Sinn Fein-IRA, John has sacrificed the SDLP.
Now there are many people (probably too many) who believe that John Hume is Ireland's next candidate for sainthood. But you don't have to be one of them to come to the conclusion that an injustice is being done here.
Ironically, Barry and John share at least one characteristic. With the possible exception of Jackie Healy-Rae, there can be few other Irish politicians less plagued by selfdoubt. You may read this book with pleasure and profit for many things, but not for frank confessions of where the author got it wrong.
John Horgan is Professor of Journalism at Dublin City University, and the author of Noel Browne: Passionate Outsider