A painful silence followed Jack Lynch's retirement as Taoiseach and leader of Fianna Fβil in 1979; and for years he was scarcely mentioned at ardfheiseanna or party functions where his predecessors Eamon de Valera and Seβn Lemass were celebrated and his successor Charles Haughey reigned.
When Lynch died, Cork, which had never lost faith in its favourite son, raised a chorus of grief and pride. The choice of Des O'Malley to give the funeral oration spoke for itself: he'd been expelled from the party for conduct unbecoming a member - in theory for abstaining on a Dβil vote, in practice for opposing Haughey.
In Lynch's case, the merest whisper of his name, never mind his presence, would have been enough to remind the whole country that he'd been described by Liam Cosgrave of Fine Gael as the most popular politician since Daniel O'Connell. More popular outside the party than among those who'd turned to Haughey as they'd turn to the Redemptorists for fire and brimstone.
Now, two years after Lynch's death, we have two biographies in a fortnight. Bruce Arnold and T Ryle Dwyer have written books that acknowledge his popularity but look at what followed - and why - in different ways and with different intent. He would have been wryly amused.
The titles suggest the differences. Arnold's Hero in Crisis is the leader remembered for his handling of the arms crisis in 1970. The sub-title might have been: How He Sacked Haughey and Saved the Party and the State.
(He had also won in 1969 the overall majority that eluded Lemass and was to elude Haughey; and in 1977 a greater majority than any party leader in the history of the State.)
Dwyer's Nice Fellow hints at a silent: "But . . .". Remember how Haughey's supporters in the press referred to him as Honest Jack? A derogatory term for the na∩ve outsider: when it came to political strokes, hecouldn't hold a candle to Charles J. For his part, Dwyer tries hard to persuade us that there is no "But". And almost succeeds.
Both Arnold and Dwyer have written books about Haughey but only refer in passing to the similarities in the leaders' backgrounds. They had much in common: both grew up in big families in working class areas; both loved sport, fared well at school and had a choice of professions.
Both also had origins outside the Fianna Fβil family. Lynch made no bones about this. Haughey did, as Arnold writes: "He had even less of the Fianna Fβil anti-Treaty tradition in him than Lynch. His father, John Haughey, was an ardent supporter of Michael Collins, and distrusted and disliked De Valera. It was not until after his father's death that Haughey went into active politics and from then on he denied the earlier record."
Lynch was loathe to leave Blackpool and slow to take up invitations to enter politics. His final move was decided on the toss of a coin. But, whether hurling for Cork or working as a lawyer or civil servant, he remained the boy from Blackpool. Haughey, though, was eager to move; some would say impatient to join the gentry. If he couldn't have the identity, he would at least acquire the trappings - as we now know, whether he could afford them or not. The style could be justified by his brilliant performance as a minister.
Lynch performed poorly as a minister until he came to share Lemass's enthusiasm for modernisation - of the economy and attitudes to Northern Ireland, the UK and Europe - and was identified by the retiring Taoiseach as a successor. The strong men in the cabinet - Neil Blaney and Kevin Boland - resented a leader they considered weak and lacking republican credentials. Blaney, too, had shown leadership ambitions in the contest of 1966. But the real contender was Haughey. And the most serious threat to his ambition was presented by Lynch's unexpected success in the 1969 general election.
Arnold always writes carefully and well. And he traces with style and precision the Byzantine events which combined in the autumn of 1969 and early 1970 to expose the threat to Lynch's leadership, the government's policy on Northern Ireland and control of Fianna Fβil.
Here is the government-within-a-government - the committee eventually reduced to two members, Haughey and Blaney, which had at its disposal public and private funds intended for the relief of distress in Northern Ireland, access to the services of Captain James Kelly of Army Intelligence and a propaganda network.
Dwyer comments that Haughey's critics seemed ready to believe "just about anything" of his supporters and quotes Vincent Browne's conclusion ten years later: "While Mr Haughey behaved improperly, he was and has been innocent of the more colourful charges laid against him concerning the crisis. It can be argued with some force that he was more a victim of the arms crisis than anything else."
Given the evidence set out with meticulous care by Arnold, who notes throughout the sources on which he relies, this must go down as one of the most colourful defences of Haughey that Irish audiences have been expected to believe.
There is an interesting exception to Arnold's rule of noting sources. He agrees with the accepted view that the note which exposed the arms importation plot in May 1970 was passed by a senior garda officer to Liam Cosgrave. Now he suggests the existence of a second note to the same effect for which Lynch was responsible.
The implication is that Lynch was so isolated - and unable to trust colleagues - that he chose this means of bringing matters to a head. It's a claim about which most readers may feel sceptical. But there's no doubt that Jack Lynch, Hero in Crisis makes a powerful contribution to our understanding of a brave and honourable leader who served us well in dangerous times.
Dick Walsh is Assistant Editor of The Irish Times