PROFILE:A glittering CV is no substitute for experience, and the Lenihan predilection for clangers, not to mention the most challenging economic climate in two decades, will test the Minister for Finance deeply, writes Harry McGee.
THERE IS A PECULIAR political gene embedded in the double helix of the Lenihan clan. It matches up human traits that are contradictory - brilliance and bluster; gravity and gaucheness; class and crass.
Conor Lenihan has it. So too has Mary O'Rourke. So did the late Brian Lenihan. And, as a third-generation TD from such a thoroughbred Fianna Fáil bloodline, the new Minister for Finance was always going to be a contributor to the Lenihan phrasebook of flippancy. Star entries: "no problem"; "somebody should shoot him"; "on mature recollection"; "stick with the kebabs"; and "working like blacks".
The big print giveth, the small print taketh away. For the first couple of weeks after his appointment to the pivotal finance portfolio, political friend and foe alike talked up Brian Lenihan, just as they talked up the new Taoiseach - who is also his predecessor in Merrion Street - Brian Cowen.
The impression went out that the two brightest stars in Fianna Fáil had now risen to the top of the political firmament. Profiles of Lenihan read like adverts for Mensa. Head boy in Belvedere. Scholarship boy in Trinity and in Cambridge. Senior counsel. Constitutional law lecturer. Carries a box of Milk Tray around. As bright as an incandescent bulb. Able to complete Crosaire even when blindfolded. In pole position to replace Cowen once he stepped down.
The laudatory commentary glossed over the skimpy parts of Lenihan's CV - his lack of senior ministerial experience and the fact that he did not have an economics or accountancy background. It also ignored that the two drivers of the Irish economy, property and consumer spending, had taken a nosedive just about the same time that he was being driven to Áras an Uachtaráin to receive his seal of office.
Or to borrow from the Lenihan phrase book of flippancy, he had the "misfortune" to become minister when the building boom came to a "shuddering end".
That particular jocose remark to a European builders' convention in Dublin Castle a few weeks ago was to cost him dearly. The display of the Lenihan gene was seized upon by his detractors. And, as the scale of the economic downturn became apparent, it quickly led to dramatic re-evaluations that usurped all the nice things said and written about him. Other phenomena came to a shuddering end. Like his honeymoon. Very quickly, star pupils Brian and Brian became the class dunces, and the criticism moved from muted to mutinous.
Cowen and Lenihan were all at sea. Confidence evaporated in their ability to turn it all around. Opponents said they were like deer caught in headlamps when they jointly announced the austerity package on Tuesday. Other niggling questions cropped up. Had Cowen chosen wisely? Was Lenihan up to the job?
When you talk to Lenihan's colleagues and his "markers", there are a number of recurring observations. Everybody agrees that he's very bright. Most (but not all) think that Bertie Ahern stymied his career over a number of years. All refer to the Lenihan "gene", his uncanny resemblance to his late father, his strong loyalty to family and party. There's the Lenihan trait of occasional flippancy. Many point out that he still seems like a fresh face even though he's been around a while and is older than Cowen.
He is 49 now, a year older than the Taoiseach. He was born in May 1959 and, growing up in the 1960s, his father and grandfather were TDs at the same time.
"Brian junior was very absorbed in politics throughout his upbringing," says his aunt, Mary O'Rourke. "Facially he very closely resembles his father. His height and his shoulders and his deliberate demeanour are very similar.
"He has a calming manner and is maybe more serious. Brian senior was extremely jocose but that hid a formidable intelligence." According to his brother Conor, many in the family thought he would pursue a career in law, having excelled academically. But once Brian senior became ill in the 1980s, his eldest son became more involved in the constituency, taking over the clinics. "There was no doubt that was the way that he was heading," says O'Rourke.
He entered the Dáil in 1996 in a byelection following the death of his father. It wasn't a shoo-in - Joe Higgins ran him to 270 votes.
"He had his seat ready-made for him. He was his father's son. He did not have to go through the torture other people had to do," says Higgins.
Lenihan's academic background was of immediate benefit to him. He became chairman of the committee on the constitution. Its report on abortion was lauded and led to the 2001 referendum, which was nonetheless lost. But on the strength of it, Lenihan was viewed as having strong ministerial potential.
"He's one of the brightest people in the place," says one senior opposition TD. "He has a lot of ability, there's no doubt about that," says former Labour leader Pat Rabbitte.
A close friend says: "His ability to master a brief is quite phenomenal. He is also very self-confident and has a fantastic memory."
From 2002, however, there was a sense that his career was in a holding pattern. In 2004, he was tipped for promotion in Ahern's reshuffle but was passed over. Ahern told him that he lost out because Séamus Brennan had dug in his heels. The crestfallen Lenihan left the Taoiseach's office within a minute after a curt exchange.
"There was no difficulty between Brian and Bertie," insists O'Rourke. "Bertie had this idea that you served your time. When stories like that gain credence, it's hard to disabuse it." But another friend of Lenihan's believes Ahern stymied him. "Bertie did not like the college-boy stuff, all that TCD and Cambridge. Brian does not exactly hide his intellectual prowess and that would have been anathema to Bertie."
Amends came quickly. He was made super-junior children's minister in early 2006, which gave him a place at the Cabinet table (where he made impressive contributions across a wide range of issues). In public and in his frequent media appearances, he radiated calm — as evidenced with his handling of the statutory rape controversy.
"Lenihan was put in to smooth the path. The legislation was flawed but his handling mollified the mothers of nine and gave the impression he played with a straight bat," says Pat Rabbitte.
THE SMOOTHNESS IS inconsistent, however. He can be sometimes aloof and strangely offhand with people. "He does not do the palaver very well," explains an ally. "He is no Charlie O'Connor [the TD for Dublin South West known as Mr Tallaght] but he is getting a bit better at it."
There are divided views on the robustness and passion of his views. Like Cowen, he is died-in-the-wool Fianna Fail, a republican, leaning a little towards the left side of the party, and very attached to his family. Several people say he gets misty-eyed when remembering his father's political crisis in the 1990 presidential election.
However, he seems more comfortable managing than floating new ideas or policies. "I do not think that he is very political or is driven by any agenda," says a Fine Gael frontbencher.
"He is more a good barrister than a politician, taking on a brief. I have never really seen him take on any vested interest. He is conservative, not radical."
But that's rejected by a close ally: "He does challenge civil servants and strongly. He demands a lot of them. His instincts are 100 per cent political and he's very independent in his thinking."
Joe Higgins disagrees. "He is an establishment man. I would see him as a fairly middle-of-the-road politician. I look at the [cost-cutting] plan so-called and it's the 1980s all over again. Let the workers pay for the crisis caused by others."
A low-key approach is another hallmark. In contrast to the high-octane Michael McDowell, who commented, announced, launched and reacted on a daily basis, Lenihan kept his head beneath the parapet while in Justice. There were only two major bills to speak of - the Immigration Bill and the Intoxicating Liquor Bill - during his tenure.
According to an opposition TD: "He had the knack never to appear on the site of a crime. McDowell would arrive with a retinue almost quicker than the guards. Brian never commented. Putting legislation through the Dáil is also effortless to him. He manages to get the business done without dramatics. He can tell fibs but in an agreeable way."
With his legal background, Justice was a natural fit. Colleagues say he has not exuded the same ebullient confidence in Finance.
"He has conveyed a certain sense of shock since he got the job. That's left me puzzled. I thought he was a very safe pair of hands," says Rabbitte. "The clangers have been small. But I am a little worried when he said with such confidence in the Dáil that there's no question of the Government breaching the borrowing limits for the Stability and Growth pact. I would be amazed if he can bring in a Budget without breaking those limits.
"That's the danger. It's the Lenihan gene. There's no problem. It will be alright on the night. But if we break the limits, it will be very damaging to his credibility as minister."
Another senior opposition figure says: "He has progressed very far and very quickly. He is very untested. He is only one year in Cabinet and to get Finance is an an extraordinarily meteoric rise.
"There is no place for the flippancy he showed with the off-the-cuff remark. Every utterance from the Minister for Finance will affect confidence."
But his brother Conor believes he has the requisite qualities. "You do not have to have a degree in economics to say the word 'no' in tough times. He is tough enough and he has been around the block. The hardest thing for him will be to detach himself from his colleagues."
As for the future, Lenihan has always insisted that there's no game plan, that he does not look beyond his current job. Facing the deepest downturn in two decades will test his political wherewithal to the limit and produce more contradictory traits. Make or break. Sink or swim. Fortune or misfortune.
CV BRIAN LENIHAN
Age:49
Occupation:Minister for Finance, former senior counsel, TD for Dublin West
Good points:Very bright. Very articulate. Soothing calmness.
Bad points:Has inherited Lenihan traits of flippancy. Untested at senior ministerial level at a time the economy is facing its biggest crisis in a generation.
Family:Married to Circuit Court Judge Patricia Ryan. Two children, a boy and a girl.
Gene Pool:Grandfather and father were TDs. His aunt Mary O'Rourke is a TD. His brother Conor is a TD.