Bono may be the patron saint of charity, but he's not so eager to pay tax, writes Hugh Linehan
'Only the little people pay taxes," as Leona Helmsley loftily observed to her maid. Which may explain why U2's publicity machine has been trying so hard for so long to persuade us that Bono is really more than five feet six inches tall.
The middle-aged rock god's fondness for a bit of elevation in his shoes is one thing, but this week's news that U2 have reacted to the Government's cap on the artists' tax exemption here by promptly taking their royalties off to a tax haven in The Netherlands may do him more damage in the long run. And the deathly silence from the band and their management on the issue suggests there may be some real embarrassment in the camp.
What's the big problem, some might ask. After all, U2 are rich beyond the dreams of most of us, and two-thirds of their income is still subject to tax here. Besides, we all know that the super-rich in Ireland do this sort of thing very effectively and completely legally, usually with a nod and a wink from the State. The U2 organisation is a slick, efficient business machine, and it comes as little surprise that it has chosen to "maximise its tax efficiency".
But Bono isn't Denis O'Brien, or so we were led to believe. When a special guest showed up for one of the band's Croke Park concerts last year, the singer welcomed him from the stage. "I am aware An Taoiseach Bertie Ahern is in the crowd here tonight," he announced. "He has promised to give 0.7 per cent of our GDP to Africa and I urge him not to break that promise." He added understandingly that: "I know it's hard to build a hospital in Abuja, Nigeria, when you need to build hospitals here." The crowd booed bad, mean Bertie and cheered the sainted Bono. Would the little people do the same today?
Even if you've never had much time for U2's particular brand of bombastic stadium rock, you have to respect Bono for the amount of sheer energy he has expended on the Make Poverty History campaign. Remarkably, he has managed for most of the time to be pretty self-deprecating about it - no easy trick. As critics of the campaign have pointed out, it's a bit, well, rich to be lecturing middle-income taxpayers about their government's responsibilities, while you're jetting around the world from one glamorous pad to another, meanwhile getting a third of your income tax-free. But if a key focus of your campaign is to raise the Irish Government's level of overseas aid to 0.7 per cent per cent of GNP, then it doesn't look good if, after more than 20 years of tax-freeloading, you jump ship to avoid paying what many would see as your fair share.
There's no doubt that U2 are generous - but they can afford to be. It has been reported that each member of the band donated €1 million apiece from their Vertigo tour income to the Make Poverty History campaign. While philanthropy has its place, even the biggest private donors aren't sufficient, a fact pointed out in the past by a certain Paul Hewson. "Bill Gates has the deepest pockets of anyone and he doesn't have enough money to fix the problems," he has said. "There's a certain type of poverty that's structural, and we need governments to get them organised." And governments, presumably, need revenue.
The whole business offers grist to the mill of those who pour scorn on showbiz do-gooders, cosseted by money and fame, who presume to lecture the less fortunate about their moral responsibilities. These people just don't understand how the rest of us have to lead our lives, it's argued. It would be a real shame if U2's tax affairs obscured the very real and serious issues around debt relief and aid. But Bono has only himself to blame if that happens.
In a misbegotten move last year, the Arts Council led a campaign against the cap on the artists' tax exemption, even though that exemption was still going to be available to the vast majority of artists working in the Republic. The council argued that if the cap was abolished there would be little net benefit to the exchequer, and that multimillionaire artists would leave the country, or devise ways to reduce their tax bills. If the council believes its stance has been justified by what has happened, it should think again. What it forgot (or chose to ignore) was the small but significant matter of fairness. Why should multimillionaires be exempt from any tax just because they've made a few hit records? And why now should we take seriously the pronouncements of a man who believes we should all cough up more cash - but that he shouldn't?