Ireland through the looking glass

It's been a particularly interesting week for tracking the mixture of pomp and circumstance with grubby corruption and cynicism that seems to especially characterise the current incarnation of the Irish Republic. On the one hand, in a sign that the world economy must be quite a resilient beast, check out European Central Bank President Jean-Claude Trichet's description of a recent meeting of the world's two biggest economic blocs, the US and the Euro area:

We have an organised system, and when we were together in the United States for the [G7 largest economies] Boca Raton meeting I was, if you like, the equivalent, the friendly partner, of Alan Greenspan, and Charlie McCreevy was opposite [US Treasury] Secretary Snow. That's the organisation of Europe, and I believe that it is a good organisation.

This is by virtue of the rotating presidency of the European Union, which puts Charlie at the head of the EU finance ministers group. This is the same Chaarlie McCreevy who doubtless a couple of days after this event, was hearing complaints from constituents about potholes in the road between Sallins and Naas.

However, the home news in the Republic this week was paying less attention to what exactly Greenspan and McCreevy might have talked about, but rather the not-so-distant stink of corruption around many of Charlie's current Cabinet colleagues. The Republic has many active tribunals of inquiry looking into its recent history. Sadly, most of these tribunals are concerning themselves with matters such as threatening to lock up rogue bloggers. One is actually important, because it pertains to high-level corruption which ultimately explains why much of Dublin is ugly and mismanaged -- because the planning process was for sale, lock, stock, and barrel.

The government had managed to stall for five years on hearing the allegations of UK-based property developer Tom Gilmartin, but he is finally getting his many words in. It's a stunning catalogue of how, by the end of the 1980s, senior figures in the Fianna Fail party had entirely lost sight of the distinction between personal, party, and public interest, a culture that spawned a genre of character whom other countries would refer to as "Mr 10 percent" -- the person, or people, who had to get a cut of every project.

Besides the insights into this utterly corrupt culture, Gilmartin's testimony also reveals a gulf in vision between two ways of getting ahead in the old backward Ireland -- the go abroad and make your fortune with hard work method, and the stay at home and just skim off the top of everyone else's hard work method. Tom Gilmartin, meet Fianna Fail TD Liam Lawlor [Dublin governing party politician]:

But Mr Lawlor had his sights set on other riches - a planned development in [Dublin], backed by a publicity-shy British outfit Arlington.

"He wanted to meet Arlington," Mr Gilmartin recalled. "I said I would have to ask Arlington." Two days later, Mr Lawlor turned up unannounced at an Arlington meeting in London, and Mr Gilmartin realised what exactly he had on his hands.

"The man is a f****** hustler," the Sligo-born businessman told a colleague at the meeting when Mr Lawlor demanded "in" on the project.

Mr Gilmartin then, as now, got on his high-horse and rode out of the meeting to avoid the scenario of "two Paddies in a room going to start an argument". He only got as far as the tea-rooms of the Buckingham Gate Hotel, however, before Mr Lawlor tracked him down, demanding a slice of Mr Gilmartin's piece of the action. "I said, 'You know what you can do mate'." Only he said it, "a bit more strongly".

None of Lawlor's political colleagues would get around to such words with him, nor could they, being in league with the corruption themselves.

Here's one final thing. Lawlor was eventually given his cut by the shocked Brits via a no-work "consulting" job, in which:

The documents sent by Mr Lawlor to Arlington, including census and economic reports, were already available to the company. They also included a speech drafted by Mr Lawlor entitled 'Dublin - A City of Opportunity - Address by Liam Lawlor MP

We'll suppress our laughter about the "city of opportunity" part and draw your attention only to Lawlor's description of his title: MP, and not the appropriate Irish, TD. Perhaps this fine Oirishman also agreed to meet his English victims off the ferry in Dunleary.