Leading political figures, who spent time in jail previously, did so as part of their patriotic ordeal. In 1916, as Bulmer Hobson realised, not to be imprisoned could be a near-fatal political disqualification, writes Martin Mansergh
A prison sentence for a former office-holder is novel for modern Irish politics. It is quite frequent in EU partner countries. Some heads of state and government even have immunity from prosecution. Mitterrand's foreign minister, Roland Dumas, served time for corruption; likewise, former Italian foreign minister, Gianni de Michelis, now back in politics.
Former Spanish ministers were jailed for their role in the "dirty war" against ETA, thanks to Europe's most feared investigating judge, Balthasar Garzón. Millionaire pulp novelist and Tory party chairman Jeffrey Archer did time, as did Jonathan Aitken, who invoked "the trusty sword of truth", before being exposed as a liar, and then re-emerging as "born again".
Ray Burke was tracked down in the end, even if not quite on target. He was the archetype of the totally development-oriented politician, who received largesse from builders and developers, some of it squirreled offshore. The Flood tribunal insisted he must have done something for them, even if they could not put their finger on it, and declared him corrupt. A court of law would require more rigorous proof.
Burke was dogged by rumours and sporadic investigations throughout his career. Environmentalists held him responsible above all for insensitive, sprawling developments without adequate planning or amenities, and for making well-placed individuals and supporters in north Dublin large windfall fortunes. In fact, Dublin County Council was quite bipartisan on rezoning as between the two main parties.
How much of the development was not needed to cater for a rapidly-growing population? In many cases, amenities followed. The flourishing town of Swords is a fine monument to Ray Burke, among others. He also looked after the interests of Aer Lingus and Dublin Airport workers.
Ray Burke was a capable and heavyweight politician and privately genial. I first met him as a civil servant over breakfast in Brussels, when he had just returned from a trade mission in the Far East as a minister of state in Des O'Malley's department of industry and commerce. He later became minister for the environment. His last-minute Bord Pleanála appointments in 1982 were thrown out by Dick Spring. Fianna Fáil cried foul, without huge conviction.
He wobbled during the challenge to Charles Haughey in 1983, but quickly made his peace. He was part of a formidable north and west Dublin phalanx, which also included Bertie Ahern, Brian Lenihan and Michael Woods. Ray could be excitable, becoming very exercised when Michael Woods described the coalition's 1986 divorce proposals as a "Frankenstein", or when he believed that a carefully-drafted line about broadening the tax base in an election manifesto could create controversy.
His lasting achievement was the creation of independent local radio, freeing up the ideological logjam that split the Fine Gael-Labour coalition. His attempt to take revenge on RTÉ, after its persistent highlighting of the reduced state of the health services in the 1989 general election, was not just motivated by financial contributions from interested parties, whatever the Flood report may say. But by then, Fianna Fáil was in coalition, which provided new constraints.
His relaxation of oil and gas licensing terms was simply a recognition that Ireland is no Norway.
He was a cautious minister. He gave no more export insurance guarantees to the Goodman Group. As justice minister, he refrained from seriously exploiting security information against the Workers' Party.
His style was forceful, hence the "Rambo" tag. Gerry Collins and himself stood in for Brian Lenihan, when he was ill, in the Anglo-Irish Intergovernmental Conference, at a time of tense security controversies. Northern Secretary Tom King's relief, when Brian Lenihan returned, was palpable.
Burke was unceremoniously dropped by Albert Reynolds, and between them no quarter was given.
As an experienced politician, he was an invaluable support to Bertie Ahern as leader of the opposition. As foreign affairs spokesman, he accompanied him on visits to Northern Ireland, to loyalist and republican west Belfast, to Ulster Unionist HQ in Glengall Street, and a private meeting with David Trimble in Archbishop Eames's house. He provided effective direction to the talks process as minister from July to September 1997, before he had to resign. He was tough-minded towards Sinn Féin.
In opposition, he devised with the NGOs a new interim target for development aid of 0.45 per cent of GNP, still not quite reached. He committed the party against the NATO Partnership for Peace, but was open to involvement in European security and defence policy.
While there was some hesitation about his appointment, because of the resurfacing rumours, his qualifications in terms of experience, competence and ability were disputed by no one. Bertie Ahern checked as best he could what it has taken teams in the tribunal and Criminal Assets Bureau years to unravel, but in the light of unequivocal but untrue assurances from Burke made the appointment. How many at the time seriously believed he would do otherwise?
A vivid memory is of Ray, like a cat on hot bricks, rehearsing before advisers his Dáil statement and question and answer session. Despite a convincing performance, it was soon clear that media harassment was not going away. Deep down, he must have known the fight could not be won. He resigned office and seat. Today, the fall is complete.
It is well that the ethical rules are now tightly defined. Sitting politicians know that they have to be extremely careful about money and tax matters. Like Caesar's wife, cabinet members must be above suspicion, or be able to dispel it, if it arises. While politicians enjoy special trust, it would be wrong for the idea to go abroad that only they are vulnerable to exemplary penalties and that everyone else is comparatively safe. Every stable needs to be kept clean.