The first time I met Mo Mowlam she was eating chips off John Hume's plate. To tell the truth, I was a bit miffed. It had taken quite some time to organise what I had expected to be a private briefing with the SDLP leader. Now this confident, breezy woman had not only muscled in on our lunch, but was offering her own views on Northern Ireland politics.
It was at an SDLP conference and, as I remember it, Dr Mowlam had recently been appointed Labour's front-bench spokesperson on Northern Ireland. I wasn't the first, or the last, person to be disconcerted by her style, but even then I was struck, rather reluctantly, by her grasp of the fraught relationships within Northern politics and her shrewd comments on some of the personalities involved.
As time went on, I was also impressed that while Labour was still in opposition, she made it her business to visit the North regularly and to meet all sides. Given the prevailing view that she was unable to deal with the unionists, it's worth recalling a visit she made in 1995 to Derry, when she addressed the local Ulster Unionists and appealed for a new "open, honest and straight-talking relationship between the Labour Party and the unionists".
Now that she has decided to quit Westminster, the tributes have been flowing. But underlying the praise for her "unique" style, the subtext has been distinctly barbed. Yes, she is touchy-feely, good at reaching out to people and popular with voters, but she is also emotional, erratic and not up to mastering a political brief. It has been said that with the Belfast Agreement, the detailed negotiations had to be left to her junior ministers and, in the latter stages, to Tony Blair.
Much has been made of the fact that she offended many in the unionist community and lost the confidence of its political leaders. This isn't quite what happened. From the very start, despite her efforts to win them over, unionist politicians were deeply mistrustful of New Labour's determination to effect the kind of change that came to be embodied in the Belfast Agreement.
Mo Mowlam pledged a fair and lasting settlement in Northern Ireland, based on equality and human rights. Unionist politicians, with a very few exceptions, saw every change as a threat and a betrayal - no wonder they preferred to bypass the Secretary of State and talk directly to Tony Blair.
The British Prime Minister's commitment to Northern Ireland has never been in doubt, but his understanding of the problems involved has often been faulty. Too often, his high-profile interventions ended in failure and a loss of public faith in the peace process. It was left to his Secretary of State to pick up the pieces.
It is often forgotten that Mo Mowlam also had her problems with nationalists. Her first Drumcree, when she failed to inform the Garvaghy Road residents of what was going on, provoked accusations of bad faith and betrayal.
A lot of this week's comment has focused on Mo's style. It's true that no one who was on the streets of Belfast when she arrived in the city within hours of being appointed to the Northern Ireland job will forget the impression she made. But there has always been a substantial political point to that palpable warmth. From the start she took politics directly to the Northern Ireland people. By making herself accessible to community associations, women's groups and trade unions, she was able to convince them that peace and aspirations to a better life could become a reality.
One British commentator this week described Mo Mowlam as "her own worst enemy". There have been aspects of her political conduct, particularly since she left Northern Ireland, that have dismayed even her most ardent admirers. The questionable appearances on TV chat shows; her obvious discontent with her new job as cabinet enforcer; the complaints about a smear campaign against her. All contributed to the impression she was a "loose cannon".
However, even admitting all this, Mo's decision to quit must raise serious questions about Tony Blair and his government. How has the British Prime Minister managed to lose a woman who is not only the most popular member of his cabinet, but one of his most loyal supporters? From the start, Mo Mowlam was an enthusiast for the New Labour project. In 1994 she was one of two Labour MPs who proposed Tony Blair for leadership of the party. The other was Peter Kilfoyle, the defence minister who resigned recently in protest at the direction being taken by the British government.
Increasingly, there is the impression that Mr Blair and those close to him are unwilling to brook any criticism, or even fraternal discussion, of New Labour's policies. Anyone who is "off message" is seen as a threat and must be dealt with accordingly. At a more profound level, Mo Mowlam's departure must be seen as a defeat for a new kind of politics. More than any politician I can remember, certainly in Northern Ireland, she believed in taking her policies and arguments directly to the people, convincing them of the need for change. It was notable that even when her rating was at its lowest among unionist leaders, an opinion poll showed 56 per cent of the Protestant community thought she was doing a good job.
On Tuesday, the London Independent described her vision of politics as showing "a refreshing openness above the buttock-clenching demands of the control freaks." That is why people love her and are willing to take risks for her. It is also what makes her decision to quit parliament so depressing, not only for British voters, but for all who share her hopes for a more open and inclusive kind of politics.