Diarmaid Ferriter: Why O’Brien should reach for the capital R in Republican

‘Controlling the Denis O’Brien narrative is central to the recent media storm’

‘Denis O’Brien was a student of history and politics at UCD; he should know that one of the essences of a genuine republic involves citizens respecting the State but contesting unaccountable power.’ Photograph by Matt Kavanagh
‘Denis O’Brien was a student of history and politics at UCD; he should know that one of the essences of a genuine republic involves citizens respecting the State but contesting unaccountable power.’ Photograph by Matt Kavanagh

Over the course of two interviews he gave to Ivor Kenny early in 2001, Denis O'Brien was more than happy to talk about his dealings with various banks. The conversations, which took place in O'Brien's office in Communicorp Group in Dublin, formed the basis of a chapter in Kenny's book, Leaders: Conversations with Irish Chief Executives.

O’Brien clearly revelled in regaling his interviewer with tales of deals and deadlines, money and investments. O’Brien was speaking about his buying of radio stations in the 1990s and his business in the Czech Republic, in parallel with the start-up of Esat. This is what he referred to as a “tricky time between balancing loss-making businesses and raising capital for a completely new venture”.

This period for O’Brien was financially complicated: “I had six banks from whom I had personally borrowed cumulatively a million quid to keep everything going. I was like Red Adair, running from one fire to another. I don’t know how we did it, but ultimately we signed the deal with Advent in October 1994.

“It was the last day of the month and I had to pay salaries and a down-payment on a broadcasting licence that we bought in Sweden – I was shy 60 grand, but I knew on Monday morning I was going to get $10 million. I went to Woodchester Bank, who had been 98FM’s bankers for some time. I saw Michael Tunney . . . Aidan Phelan, my accountant, came with me for cred.

READ MORE

A million quid

“I told Michael we were going to get $10 million on Monday and asked him for a loan of 60 grand. I also brought Gerry Halpenny, our solicitor, and he told them we were about to close the deal. Michael Tunney just went out, got a cheque for 60 grand and gave it to me. I got the money on Monday morning – I got a million quid out of it myself.

“I drove around town throwing envelopes into the banks to whom I owed money: Anglo-Irish, Equity Bank, Woodies, AIB, every bank basically, because I was borrowing from one to pay the interest on capital to another. It’s a vicious circle – it was a bit like the funny money game. We then decided to expand Esat.”

Nearly 15 years on, O’Brien’s tone, judging by his self-pitying essay published in this newspaper on Tuesday, has changed markedly. The laddish effusiveness of the buccaneer, rushing around to throw envelopes into a variety of financial institutions, has been replaced by a plaintive cry from the mature billionaire about his right to privacy and his credentials as a patriotic Irish republican: “I will always be proud to be Irish, optimistic and a republican with a small ‘r’.”

Of public interest

No longer does O’Brien want to talk about his dealings with banks, as “I operate on the basis that a client’s relationship with its banks is at all times confidential”. O’Brien rejects the contention that his “banking affairs are of public interest”, though he was quite happy to talk openly about them when he was on the way up.

Controlling the O’Brien narrative is central to the recent media storm. Now the owner of a media empire, O’Brien has gone to great lengths to prevent narratives that he feels defame him or infringe his privacy, and has the exceptional wealth to do that. Since 2003 he has initiated 24 separate High Court proceedings against newspapers and broadcasters.

Significant value

O’Brien has also rubbished a crucial narrative relating to him that he could not control. This is the narrative of the Moriarty tribunal report, which concluded that minister for communication Michael Lowry, in one of his meetings with O’Brien in 1995, “imparted substantive information to Mr O’Brien of significant value and assistance to him in securing the [mobile phone] licence”. The licence was awarded to the Esat group and formed the basis of O’Brien’s fortune.

That Moriarty report found the relationship between O’Brien and Lowry during this process represented “an irregular and improper relationship between business and politics.” Judge Moriarty also observed that neither Lowry nor O’Brien saw “fit to respond to the Tribunal’s inquires openly and honestly”.

Those findings should not be forgotten; the refusal to answer questions in Irish public life about legitimate public interest issues continues to be a problem and is a regular feature of Dáil proceedings. Catherine Murphy had to ask 19 questions in the Dáil about the sale of Siteserv before she received a detailed answer, which led to questions about IBRC and its debtors, all of which are public interest matters. As Murphy put it, the interest rate charged on loans to those borrowers, including O’Brien, “is not an insignificant public interest”.

Denis O’Brien was a student of history and politics at UCD; he should know that one of the essences of a genuine republic involves citizens respecting the state but contesting unaccountable power. He should reach for the capital “R” in Republican and answer legitimate questions about the “money game” he used to dine out on.