BRENDAN CARDIFF RIP

Brendan, from his book Roots & Routes

I only got to know Brendan after his retirement from the EU Commission. He was living in Brussels then, but subsequently returned to Ireland and we met up a fair few times since.

He participated in a small email group of friends and former colleagues (of mine and his) and we still had some projects outstanding at the time of his unexpected death yesterday.

Career

The Dublin part of Brendan's career involved the Institute of Public Administration and the IDA. He then moved on to the EU Commission where he was intimately involved in the initiation of many projects which today have become the staple diet of the EU.

Erasmus was one such. It is ironic that he leaves us just as the UK is pulling out of this fabulously successful programme which has given so many opportunities to so many young people across the EU and beyond.

I have only one memory of Brendan during his career in Dublin. Sir William Armstrong, then UK Cabinet Secretary had come to town, at the invitation of the IPA, to lecture us on some aspect of civil service efficiency. Government Departments were under instructions to turn out in force and fill the RDS Hall for the occasion.

The event was hijacked at the very beginning by a group of protesters who invaded the stage and pointed out that Sir William represented the régime which was responsible for multiple miscarriages of justice involving Irish people in the UK. They conjured up a graphic image of the victims being held in cells the size of filing cabinets.

Brendan, who was MC, attempted to defuse the situation by quietly talking to the protestors and trying to get them to disperse peacefully. What he said to them one can only guess but he was immediately and loudly proclaimed from the stage: 'WE HAVE A FRIEND". I think that was Máirín de Búrca, if my memory serves me.

I think he must have suppressed the memory of this trauma as he had no recollection of it when I mentioned it to him decades later.

I filled in the missing pieces of Brendan's life by reading his book, Roots & Routes, in which he describes his childhood and his career in the IPA/IDA and the EU Commission, including a period as EU Representative in Idi Amin's Uganda.

His recounting of his involvement with the Irish institutions which set the scene for Irish development and the Celtic Tiger that followed, is fascinating. The founding fathers (and brothers, uncles and all) come vividly to life in his cameos. This was the "can do" generation.

His understanding of, and enthusiasm for, the European project is a reminder of what this thing was about in the first place, of the wisdom and dedication of its founders, of its wellsprings on a ravaged continent, and of the great idealism and hope for the future that it inspired at the time.

Brendan was involved in the development of various European Community policies and he shares with us the vital role played in their success by both strong leadership and dedicated teams. He gets across the raw excitement that predated the bloating of the bureaucracy and the blurring of the edges.

His descriptions of his favourite travels would give you itchy feet, all the more so when you see the the tremendously powerful photographs from his own camera.

His appendix on development and aid should be obligatory reading for anyone connected with this field, and, in particular, for politicians and commentators who often set such store by illusory quantitative targets.

It's all delivered in an intimate style topped by occasional flourishes of literary elegance which make you smile.

Resonances

His childhood stories resonated with me. We are, after all, both Dubliners and from the same generation.

In the 1950s British sweets were a luxury, probably as much due to their scarcity value as anything else. A visit to the UK always ended with a ritual purchase of the unavailable at home, such as Spangles. Brendan mentions a visit to Northern Ireland in the 1950s when he couldn't buy the sweets because post-war rationing was still in force there and he didn't have a ration book. Well, maybe nobody told him where to get one.

My family visited the North in the 1950s and we were directed to the coupon distribution centre to pick up our ration entitlement. Having used this up during the first week of a fortnight's stay, we went back for the second week's coupons only to find that we had already consumed our two week allocation. An early onset of Lent followed.

Brendan very wisely defines the difference between clothes and presents. As a child I sold raffle tickets for the Franciscans in Cork and, as was usual in these matters, there was always a draw for the promoters. I won six dozen of stout.

However, as there was a rail strike on at the time and the stout could not be got to Dublin the Franciscans sent a cheque. That was fine by me. I know where the stout would have gone. I had the cheque spent in my head long before it arrived only to find, when it did, that my mother requisitioned it to buy me clothes. Much needed I'm sure they were. Presents they were not.

He reminds us of the time milk was delivered via the tilley out of the churn, only to be replaced by the new fangled bottled milk. He mentions the extra drop out of the tilley to make sure you weren't being short changed. This was the first time I heard tell of a baker's dozen of milk. I wonder does he remember the cutting-edge-of-technology foil-milk-bottle-top opener distributed for free by Hughes Bros. Round piece of plastic with a bump in the middle. Worked a dream.

While we're still on the milk, he mentions the transition from horse drawn to motorised delivery. He doesn't, however, mention one of the downsides to this bit of technological progress. No more manure. I remember well, when we were living with my Southside granny, following the horse drawn carts down our road with a bucket and spade gathering manure for the back garden. Maybe they didn't do that on the Northside!

Joshing aside, this is a fascinating book. Apart from the purely personal stuff, Brendan has recorded his experiences in the early days of Irish economic development through his work in the private and public sectors, both in Ireland and abroad. His time in Uganda, representing the EU Commission during Idi Amin's reign, gave him a deep understanding of, and a no-nonsense approach to development.

As EU Representative in Idi Amin's Uganda, Brendan was in constant danger himself at the whim of this dictator and he was very often assailed by the sound of the torture of others. It left its mark.

He was an inveterate traveler and the book contains wonderful cameos of his favourite places along with some beautiful, and very professional, photos from his own camera.

Significantly, the book is published by Liffey Press, a Northside publishing house, then headquartered in Raheny, Dublin 5. Sadly, or happily, the book is completely sold out. Not even the publisher has a copy, but you can get it in the Dublin public library system.

I mention the Northside as Brendan was a proud Northsider, but I'm sad to say that when he returned from Brussels he settled on the other side.

The Oratory

Shortly after his return to Dublin, Brendan introduced me to the Dominican Peace Oratory in Dún Laoghaire.

I lived in Ballybrack for twenty years and misspent a significant part of my youth in Dún Laoghaire, but the Bamboo crowd had never heard of the oratory and I was unaware of its existence. For the benefit of foreigners, I should explain that the Bamboo Café, near the People's Park, was where a coterie of young people hung out. While the crowd I hung around with tended to be international, I'm sure there must have been a Dominican girl among them. If there was, she never mentioned the Oratory.

Felix Larkin, Sighle Bhreathnach-Lynch, & Brendan
at the launch of Divine Illuminations in the Lexicon

Over the last few years, Brendan has done much to publicise the Oratory's existence and he has got himself an entry in the bibliography of a beautiful anniversary book published by New Island Books. This refers to the excellent piece he wrote on it, a version of which you can read here.

Since then we had a few other projects on the long finger and I hope to complete these in his memory at a later stage.

Brendan was a friend and a gentleman, a man of great learning and wide interests. He was generous with his time and with his bespoke gifts. He will be missed.

May he rest in peace.

The death notice & arrangements can be found here.


The Funeral Mass

The mass was celebrated in Kimmage Manor church. This campus was the HQ of the Holy Ghost Fathers, now the Spiritans, in my day.

Brendan's nephew, Daniel, gave a family perspective on Brendan.

Tom Arnold gave a moving eulogy, recapping Brendan's career and character.

The offerings, or whatever they're called in this context, were most interesting.

The photo album was a tribute to Brendan's photography, the quality of which I can testify to myself.

The article was a tribute to his writing, which I can also testify to.

The hat signified his travels, which were worldwide.

And I'll leave the bottle of wine and the box of chocolates to your own imagination.

You can check out a video of the funeral mass here.

You can hear Tom Arnold's moving eulogy here