Historians and political commentators have always found it difficult to assess the value of Jack Lynch's contribution to modern Irish politics. His modest, and even diffident, style of leadership, coupled with an ambiguity in the use of language dubbed "Lynchspeak", often led to his achievements being underestimated or even dismissed.
His initial reluctance to enter politics, then to accept ministerial office and above all to throw his hat in the succession race to Sean Lemass, is such a contrast to the stereotype of the present-day ambitious, ruthless politician on the make, that Lynch seems to be outside all the known categories. Yet this is probably why he earned the reputation of being Ireland's most popular politician.
This affable, courteous, genial side of Lynch contrasts, of course, with the steel he displayed at the time of the Arms Crisis. But this side of character should have come as no surprise to those who had watched his performances on the hurling field, as Dick Walsh observes in his book, The Party: Inside Fianna Fail.
Critics point out, however, that if Lynch had been doing his job of Taoiseach properly in the months following the eruption of violence in Northern Ireland in 1969, there would not have been an Arms Crisis. He should never have let the "hawks" in his Cabinet have such a free hand, the critics argue, or was he as ignorant of what was going on as he claimed when the storm finally broke in 1970 following the prodding from the leader of the Opposition, Liam Cosgrave?
The historian, Prof J.J. Lee, has written: "It was his [Lynch's] misfortune to find himself facing the logical consequences of a generation and more of official posturing on the North. His basic objective was clear, but circumstances obliged him to play a delicate party game, shuffling sideways rather than following a straight line. In leading an ambivalent public, and an even more ambivalent party, he brought the use of nuance to a pitch of refined perfection."
Another historian, John A. Murphy, has rather harshly observed that Lynch "stood for nothing in particular except a kind of affable consensus". Certainly he could be identified with no particular ideology, but this may have been inevitable in the person who was to become the first post-revolutionary leader of Fianna Fail. He served in Cabinet under de Valera and Lemass when both were long past the height of their powers and Fianna Fail had reached the stage of believing it had an almost divine right to rule.
It was not exactly a policy-driven party and "catch-all" was the more usual label than Soldiers of Destiny. From Lemass, Lynch inherited the initial decisions to join the EEC and to end the "cold war" with the Northern Ireland Stormont regime. But he had little original to contribute. When Derry erupted in 1969 and again following Bloody Sunday in January 1972, Lynch was able to contain and channel the enormous outpouring of emotions in the South through the appropriate use of Lynchspeak. The overwhelming reaction of the State when the strong feelings had died down was relief that such a firm and sensible hand was on the tiller to prevent an overspill of the Northern violence, but this did not stop Fianna Fail from losing the election Lynch called in February 1973.
On the domestic front his moderation, even diffidence, in tackling issues was less useful. And he must bear primary responsibility for the reflationary policies which caused the national debt to rise to intolerable levels after 1977.
Equally questionable was his decision to re-admit Mr Haughey to the Fianna Fail front bench and thereby allow him to become a viable challenger for the leadership. It was a development that divided and weakened Fianna Fail in the long term.
On the other hand, it could be argued that the failure of Britain to provide a political solution to the Northern problem over a period of a decade was bound to witness a resurgence of hardline nationalism in the South, as well as among the Catholic minority in the North. Haughey, or a similar figure, represented a very deep and legitimate tradition within the party. In fact, it could be argued that Lynch was the aberration.
He was blamed for bad timing and for not foreseeing that Labour had learned the lesson of its debacle at his hands in 1969 and was ready for a pact with Fine Gael. But Lynch showed a flair in opposition for modernising Fianna Fail that would not have been expected from such an apparently easygoing politician.
The famous 1977 landslide victory was a spectacular personal triumph for Lynch, even if the fruits were to turn bitter two years later and hasten his sudden resignation as Taoiseach at only 62. This was a botched affair as it damaged Ireland's reputation in Brussels, taking place as it did in the last month of Ireland's EEC Presidency, and did not result in Lynch's replacement by George Colley, which was the intention.
LYNCH, WHO had become Taoiseach with Lemass's open assistance to try and avoid a split in the party between Haughey and Colley, caused precisely this outcome when he stepped down 13 years later. He was fast losing interest in the job in any case, but lacked Lemass's authority to bring the factions together.
At this stage, this hardly matters. Jack Lynch is above all seen as the decent man who saved Fianna Fail, if not the State itself, from self-destruction in dark days.
The last word should perhaps go to one of his main political rivals, the former Taoiseach, Garret FitzGerald. Speaking after Lynch resigned as the leader of Fianna Fail, FitzGerald said: "Among his many achievements was to bring Ireland into the EEC. Since 1969 in particular, when the Northern crisis broke, he has consistently sought to ensure that moderation would prevail and has promoted policies of reconciliation.
"In victory he was modest, in defeat generous, and throughout his life a sincere patriot."