Enda Kenny (Mayo, Fine Gael)

When it comes to paying tribute to a man, too often we articulate a list of his achievements. I grant that it is one way to measure a man — it piles up the objectives reached, goals attained and targets hit — but it is also a way to lose sight of the essence of a man by focusing on the little round of deeds and days that make up his curriculum vitae. The essence of a man is to be found not in his notched-up achievements, but in the mosaic of traits that make him what he is, traits that, in their totality, are as unique to that man as his fingerprints and traits that, in a politician, evoke a response from the people which is as unique as the man himself.

A key piece of the mosaic making up the man that is Bertie Ahern is his unequalled zest for people. For him, people were never an interruption to his main task — they were the main task. They were the focus, the purpose and the point of his political life. There was never a pretence about it. He enjoyed every human contact, whether it was a hand fleetingly grasped on a canvass, an assistant murmuring something before a meeting or an elderly constituent confiding a problem. To each he gave his concentrated, infinitely respectful attention. From each, he drew the meaning of his political life. For them, to be listened to by the man was to feel valued and important. He heard, absorbed, responded, remembered and attended to those individuals.

Nor was he a man who later peddled stories about the people who confided in him for help. He has never been that kind of politician. In fact, that is one of the traits of Bertie Ahern that is little noticed. Nobody ever says that he tells a great story about this, that or the other, that his party piece is this or that or that he is the life and soul of every party. He is popular not because he draws attention to himself by being entertaining, anecdotal or great craic, but because he draws attention away from himself. He is always and everywhere focused on others. He is an absorber of other people's hopes, dreams and problems. He is a silent supportive listener, rather than the life and soul of the party. He is a mirror of other people's needs.

I have described you, Taoiseach, as the ultimate paradox — a sociable loner. I can accurately suggest that you are at home in a crowd, but at one with your garden. I have watched you in the House since we both entered it many years ago and I have known few who could come near you in terms of diligence to your job. The problems entrusted to you by your constituents and others in recent times would be different from the problems whispered to you and written down by you on scraps of paper in 1977 when you first entered the House. However, the discipline of detail and the follow-up devoted to them have not changed in the decades since your career began.

The novelist Thomas Mann observed: "A man lives not only in his personal life, as an individual, but also, consciously or unconsciously, the life of his epoch and his contemporaries." This is undoubtedly true of the Taoiseach. In a time of constant change and serious challenge, one thing about you that cannot be taken from you is the love for your family and your daughters in particular. I recall from the first time they appeared in Leinster House as schoolgirls when the Taoiseach was the Minister for Finance how he displayed this admirable quality. Your love and feeling for your family was palpable. I have no doubt that Rocco and Jay will now become the subject of much more attention. They will not mind who "Grandda" was or is.

I give the Taoiseach full credit for his involvement in chairing the European Council in Dublin during our Presidency. It was a wonderful outcome and in keeping with your qualities as a negotiator. I want to give him full credit for the part he played as Taoiseach and his persistence, diligence and commitment in bringing to conclusion the Good Friday Agreement, which is of such importance as a follow-through to all leaders in the parts they played, and in providing an opportunity for the people of this island to live in peace and to grow in confidence and prosperity as we face the challenges ahead.

It is tough to relinquish power, and particularly tragic in some cases, for people who love either protocol or vanity and who suffer from pride. The Taoiseach has none of these problems. I do not believe you have any personal vanity. Fame, good or bad coverage or opinion polls have all mattered to you only in terms of what you wanted to do. You have done the State some exemplary service. I do not want to stand here and be seen to be discordant or hypocritical, but the Taoiseach knows my stated opinions on other subjects that are not a matter for discussion today. I have made my point in this regard clearly.

At a conference on victims' rights I attended with Deputy Shatter recently, a speaker stated that people may forget what one says or does, but they will never forget how one makes them feel. The Taoiseach should be proud of this because a charity group remarked to me on his willingness to preside over any involvement it had in its forum. The woman in question stated that Bertie will probably be more helpful to her group when he is no longer in office because he would never abandon it. In its own way, this little sentence demonstrates how people were positively affected by his presence as Taoiseach.

In many ways, it probably is one of his more important and admirable traits.

I have two stories, the first of which is of connection and understanding. A number of years ago, I saw the Taoiseach on a social occasion with a man who clearly was very much under the weather and who had a face as bright as the jacket being worn by the minister for happiness. He was explaining his case vociferously into the Taoiseach's ear, while spitting words and saliva at the same time. You caught my eye and raised your eyes up to heaven as if to say: "We are in this together." I am unsure whether the Taoiseach sorted out the man's problem.

When people ask me whether I ever was jealous of Bertie Ahern, I reply that I never was. However, I suffered from envy on the odd occasion, one of which took place at Croke Park when Mayo played Dublin. The Taoiseach went onto the pitch and the band played the Taoiseach's salute. One cannot attend an occasion like that without the hairs tingling at the back of one's neck. I believe I have told you this previously.

I have known you since 1977 and we participated on many sporting occasions on behalf of the Oireachtas and so on. Thomas Jefferson said: "I never considered a difference of opinion in politics, in religion, in philosophy, as cause for withdrawing from a friend" and I say this to you. In conclusion, tá súil agam go n-éireoidh go maith leat agus go mbeidh saol sona agat as seo amach. Go gcumhdaí Dia thú agus nár laga Dia do lámh riamh.

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