The untimely death of Dr Marjorie "Mo" Mowlam, former secretary of state for Northern Ireland, will be widely regretted in Ireland and in Britain. Her contribution to peace and reconciliation in these islands, through the difficult and protracted negotiations which led up to the Belfast Agreement in 1998, was enormous. It will stand as a monument to her courage, determination and political skills. In bringing change and hope for the future, however, ordinary people are likely to remember her spontaneity, sense of mischief and unorthodox political behaviour.
Mo Mowlam was an extraordinary and colourful politician. More than anything else, she disliked social pretence and had a keenly-honed sense of justice. The guest list at Hillsborough Castle changed dramatically following her appointment as secretary of state in 1997. And she shocked the predominantly male political establishment in Northern Ireland with her informality, her bad language and her tendency to hug people. During difficult meetings, she sometimes kicked off her shoes, chewed gum and removed her wig.
But her obvious concern for the victims of violence; her talent for relating to people in the street and her determination to make things better for both communities - economically and socially - struck a chord. The public took her to their hearts. Her personal courage, in dealing with a brain tumour which had required radiotherapy and caused the loss of her hair was widely admired.
Mo Mowlam's first task was to return the IRA to ceasefire and to broaden the base for negotiations to include republican and loyalist paramilitaries, along with women's groups and others who had felt frozen out of the political process. Her energy and commitment was enormous. Of course, there were stumbles and mistakes. Unionist politicians were worried and defensive about possible change. And her bluff, in-your-face approach caused offence. Her observation on policing that "the status quo is not an option" generated unionist uproar. And she infuriated republicans with her handling of an Orange parade on the Garvaghy Road. Through it all, however, she reached out to people on the margins. She shook the hands of republicans and treated them with respect as they moved to the negotiating table. And she visited loyalist paramilitary leaders in prison in a successful attempt to save the talks process. US senator George Mitchell put it well: "She is blunt and outspoken and she swears a lot. She is also intelligent, decisive, daring and unpretentious. The combination is irresistible. The people love her, though many politicians do not."
The signing of the Belfast Agreement marked the apogee of her political star. Her judgment in resisting a transfer from Northern Ireland later that year was unwise, leading to friction with Tony Blair and her eventual retirement from politics in 2001. In two short years on this island, however, she made an immense and creative impact. She will be fondly remembered.