The Kettle's Boyled: My memory of the late Brian Crowley

I often wonder why anyone would want to be a politician. I can understand maybe how somebody who has retired early might like to spend one term in the job, on the basis that it was the one thing they hadn’t done, a box left unticked. But the notion that a relatively young person might not only do it once but would go back for a second helping a few years later is one that I find hard to understand. The abuse and vitriol poured in their direction, particularly in this era of social media, is something many people would find intolerable.

In my experience, most politicians are decent people, and many of them are outstanding citizens. Last week I was saddened to hear of the death of one such person, the former MEP Brian Crowley who represented Munster in the European parliament from 1994 to 2019. I knew him well and I was proud to call him a friend.

I first met Brian Crowley during my time as a lobbyist for disability rights in the European Parliament. Romania was lining up to join the EU in 2007, and for a few years before that a couple of us were involved in leveraging this event to bring about reform of disability laws in that country and indeed across Europe. With the help of other good citizens, particularly Mairead McGuinness and her team, we did in fact manage to change European Laws to outlaw the use of EU funds for institutions in favour of independent living projects.

Brian Cowley always had a welcome for us in Brussels and was always available to help. On one occasion he asked me how we were funding the expense of the lobbying campaign. I held up my credit card and told him we were too busy to get involved in fundraising and any donations we got went to providing houses in the community for people with disabilities.

‘Next time you’re here,’ he said, ‘keep the receipts for the flights and hotels.’ I said I didn’t know there was a fund for lobbyists. ‘There is,’ he said, ‘if you know where to look.’ A month later I was in his office, and I gave him the receipts. He told me to call back in the afternoon, and his assistant would have a cheque for me. I did as asked; he was nowhere to be found but there was an envelope with my name on it. I didn’t open it until later, when I found a personal cheque from Brian for the full amount. There was no fund. I challenged him on it next time I saw him, but he just laughed. ‘Just my way of supporting what you do,’ he said. ‘We’ll say no more about it.’ So I didn’t, until now. But people should know, Brian Crowley was one of the good guys. May he rest in peace.