LAST UPDATE | 3 Mar 2023
I HOPE I don’t get a bill from the Department of Foreign Affairs for repeating this tale. Please go easy, Micheál.
It was a glittering occasion at the United States Embassy of Ireland in Washington in the late 1980s. The Donnelly Visa was a beacon in the eyes of many ambitious young Irish people who thought that there might be a better life on the other side of the Atlantic.
My uncle, former US Congressman and Ambassador Brian Donnelly had been a tireless fighter on their behalf. He was determined to create further opportunities for those putative emigrants who wanted to find a home in America as our family had.
Brian had the idea that the Irish government should honour the legendary congressional power broker, Democrat Peter Rodino, who was favourably disposed toward visas being granted to the Irish. Some 20,000 had been distributed, with possibly more to come. His allies in the embassy in Washington concurred and an event was organised there.
There was a hitch, however. Clearly underestimating the significance of Congressman Rodino’s support, it was proposed that the liberal icon be awarded a pen on the night. To put it mildly, my Uncle Brian was unhappy with what he perceived to be a slight.
But upon seeing a beautiful, large Waterford Crystal bowl in the foyer, he hatched a cunning plan.
He agreed to a running order for the proceedings, which meant that he would formally introduce and make a presentation to his helpful senior colleague from New Jersey. And when the time came, Brian tossed aside the pen, grabbed the beautiful crystal bowl and gave it to the grateful Italian American whose endorsement was then cemented! It wasn’t as if the embassy officials could demand it back.
My Uncle Brian – who told this story at the US Embassy in Dublin where he was hosted by Ambassador Claire Cronin last November – died on Tuesday. How can I sum him up? At one level, it’s improbable that this oft-labelled “tough talking Irish American” would become an efficacious politician and diplomat. That said, the streets of Boston’s Dorchester neighbourhood, where he was born and reared, were an ideal breeding ground.
Very saddened to hear about the passing of former Congressman and Ambassador Brian Donnelly. Just last November in Deerfield we were treated to a great evening with Brian, listening to stories from his remarkable career. He was a great friend of Ireland. 🇮🇪🇺🇸 pic.twitter.com/Gz4MgBDSoF
— Ambassador Claire Cronin (@USAmbIreland) March 2, 2023
Following a short-lived stint as a physical education teacher, Brian traversed a well-trodden path for our family since emigrating from the west of Ireland. He ran for a seat in the state legislature and, in a field of more than twenty candidates whose surnames read as if the district were in Dublin in the words of one wizened observer, took one of the three on offer in 1972.
After three terms in the State House, Brian was elected to the US House of Representatives in 1978. Throughout his 14 years as a Congressman, he was a centrist Democrat who was influential behind closed doors and tight with his party’s leadership.
While on Capitol Hill, having been sent there by what was the “most Irish” constituency in the US, he became – in the words of his close friend, the former Minister for Justice and European Union Commissioner Máire Geoghegan Quinn – “as big an advocate on issues affecting Irish people as our own Oireachtas members.”
This led to the appropriately celebrated Donnelly Visa, which benefitted tens of thousands of Irish people and is the reason why there are so many boys named Oisin and girls called Siobhán in Boston and New York in 2023. But Brian also made key interventions on Northern Ireland at crucial junctures.
He pushed controversially, yet unapologetically, against the British government to obtain justice for the Birmingham Six. And he endeavoured to attract international investment to this country.
Like most of us moderates, Brian was often asked what he really believed in. Many of his critics didn’t get him. Another good friend, the former SDLP leader Mark Durkan, did: “Brian was never consumed by ideology, but he was totally passionate for decency, democracy, dignity and rights for all.”
This was what animated him and resulted in an unlikely friendship in the Massachusetts legislature – and a definitely unholy alliance – between a socially conservative Irish Catholic guy from Dorchester and a leftist activist outsider from Pennsylvania, Elaine Noble, on matters affecting Boston’s gay and lesbian community in the 1970s.
He was simultaneously pro-life on abortion and in favour of equality for the LGBTQ community in his city. The latter stance was partly down to the admiration he had for Elaine. He did not understand why so many of his own friends and supporters were opposed to what he saw as self-evident.
On his final trip to Ireland in November, the exceptionally shrewd politician offered me some advice. It was against crusading. Whether on the fallout from Brexit, on the culture wars or on a resolution to Russia’s attack on Ukraine, he invariably viewed compromise as the sole way forward in a world that is grey, not black and white. It may be trite; it’s a typically neglected fact nonetheless.
The impish side of Brian Donnelly – the one most familiar to those of us who knew him best – was inescapable on what he prophetically described as his “farewell tour” to Ireland in November.
As they devoured burgers and fries at McDonald’s on Grafton Street, he joyously convinced Larry Óg that his parents had lied when they told him fast food was unhealthy. At Elvery Sports on Suffolk Street, Brian bought his grandnephew an expensive pair of goalie gloves; he would only hand them over when my son would loudly exclaim who his favourite uncle was, though.
I could go on for a long time about Brian Donnelly, the private person and the public figure. He was my uncle, my godfather and someone who I will never forget. I sobbed when we parted a few months ago and I have cried a lot this week.
Most importantly, he was a wonderful husband and father to my Aunt Ginny and my cousins, Lauren and Brian. My heart is with them right now.
Ireland has been fortunate to have many good friends. Respectfully, I can’t think of any better than my Uncle Brian.
Larry Donnelly is a Boston lawyer, a Law Lecturer at the University of Galway and a political columnist with TheJournal.ie.
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