Interview by Ronan McCreevey
How did you get to edit a book about Irish taoisigh?
I started my original podcast with British prime ministers in 2021 because it was the 300th anniversary of Robert Walpole being our first prime minister. I commissioned 55 people to write essays on 55 prime ministers and then turned it into a book and then a podcast. So I then did American presidents, British kings and queens and dictators.
I was watching a drama on Netflix about the Easter Rising, Rebellion. I knew the basics but I really don’t know any of the detail despite being an ultra-political geek and really interested in history. It’s partly because we don’t learn about Ireland in schools at all. Which is really weird, given the common history, language, culture, the Troubles as well, but the problem is, I think the whole British-Irish relationship, in my adult lifetime, has been dominated by that or was certainly in the ’80s and ’90s. So I started to read a lot more about Irish history so I thought of a podcast on Irish taoisigh.
I had a problem in that I really didn’t know anyone in Irish media or politics. I read a biography of Leo Varadkar by Philip Ryan and Niall O’Connor. So I rang them up and said, would you like to do the chapter on Leo? And can you recommend other people to do other chapters? They put me in touch with David McCullagh and it went from there.
We did the podcast, then I had lunch with a publisher called Swift Press to discuss a biography of Margaret Thatcher. And then I said, “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in doing one on Irish prime ministers?” It’s taken a bit longer than I’d intended because when you’ve got multiple authors, and this is not meant to criticise anybody, it’s like herding cats.
What’s your abiding feeling about the calibre of taoisigh?
I think, generally, they reflect the times that they lived in, and I think we get the political leaders we deserve. There are more impressive ones and then there are some less impressive ones. I think John Bruton was one of the less impressive ones, John A Costello too, but then he had to be dragged in to do the job. Enda Kenny - he’s really impressed me because I’ve had quite an extensive email exchange with him. He was somebody who, I think, probably is a bit underrated. I think history will probably look more kindly on him, a bit like John Major, in a way. I met Micheál Martin purely coincidentally in Leinster House, and I thought he seemed to be a very nice person.
Certainly for the older ones, de Valera just dominates everything. Seán Lemass is a really interesting character. He laid the groundwork for what happened 20 years later.
Which projects are you working on?
I just finished my autobiography. I’m also working on an anthology of political diaries. I do a politics-meet-history podcast, which takes up a lot of time.
Have you made a literary pilgrimage?
I’m a huge fan of Richard Nixon’s books. He was a brilliant writer. I recommend him to anybody who wants to understand what the core of politics is all about. I went to the Richard Nixon Library just outside Los Angeles and California in 1993. He hadn’t been dead that long. His grave is actually at the side of the library.
What’s the best writing advice?
Write as you speak, which I tend to do. My autobiography is very much written in that tone. The Margaret Thatcher biography, which came out in June, I wanted to aim at a younger generation so that’s written in quite a light way. I can’t write in an academic way, and I’ve got no ambition to. You’ve got to stick to what you think you’re good at or what other people tell you that you’re good at.
Who do you admire the most?
Margaret Thatcher, but everybody knows I would say that. Another one is Konrad Adenauer (German chancellor 1949-1963). Without him Germany would not have been able to recover from the second World War in the way that it did. He is a colossus.
Which current book, film and podcast would you recommend?
I’m in the middle of the final volume of Tim Shipman’s book on Brexit entitled Out. I think that historians in 100 years will be referring back to his books. Film? The Diplomat on Netflix. My favourite podcast is The Price of Football hosted by a comedian, Kevin Day, with an accountant, Kieran Maguire. They look at the business of football.
What public event affected you most?
I would say 9/11 because my best friend’s father had a corner office on the 21st floor of one of the Twin Towers and I knew that he’d be working there. I remember seeing the second plane approach. It took me five hours to get hold of my friend and I remember saying to my partner: “The world changed today.”
The most remarkable place you’ve visited
It’s Beirut. I was the first British person to go to Beirut in 1991 after the hostages were released, to speak at a conference on transport privatisation, believe it or not. I could bore you to death about it.
Your most treasured possession
Do dogs count? I have a Jack Russell called Dude who’s 14, and a miniature Schnauzer called Woody, who’s two.
The most beautiful book that you own?
I have a coffee-table book about West Ham called When Football Was Football.
What writers living or dead would you invite to your dream dinner party?
When I was growing up, I was addicted to horror books by James Herbert and he became quite a hero. Most of my sex education is from him, which probably tells you too much. In 2012 I got the chance to interview him and he was monosyllabic. How I sustained an hour-long interview, I do not know. It was torture.
What are the best and worst things about where you live?
The Pantiles area of Tunbridge Wells is full of chichi restaurants and bands playing on a Sunday afternoon. I have to be careful about saying the worst thing as the last time I did, it scuppered my chances of being an MP. The worst thing is the congestion.
What’s your favourite quotation?
It’s a German quotation from Goethe. Man tue was mann will. It means ‘I do what I want’.
Who is your favourite fictional character?
JR Ewing.
A book to make you laugh?
Anything written by Gyles Brandreth.
A book to move you to tears?
I’m not easily moved to tears through books, but I remember getting very emotional reading David Norris’s autobiography, A Kick against the Pricks.
The Taoiseach: A Century of Political Leadership is published by Swift Press