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By Eamon Delaney

John Le Carre meets invoice Bryson with a slightly of sure, Minister' - The Irish TimesEamon Delaney's arguable #1 bestselling exposé of behind the scenes existence on the division of overseas Affairs . From the lonely nights on the Soviet table to glamorous soirées in the course of Ireland's presidency of the rising ecu Union, Eamon Delaney saved his ear to the floor - an invaluable ability while wedged precariously among Iran, Iraq and Israel on the UN basic meeting. And extra worthy nonetheless while, on the Irish Consulate, he travelled the unusual global of Irish the US, doing conflict with radical nationalists and having to take pleasure in a painful volume of céilí dancing. . . after which there has been Northern eire, and the Peace means of 1993-1995, the place no quantity of eating, spying and manipulation was once spared within the pursuit of the last word target - the better stable of officialdom. Hilarious and every now and then lethal severe, An unintended Diplomat deals a wry and irreverant view of the behind the scenes dealings at...

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Extra info for An Accidental Diplomat. My Years in the Irish Foreign Service 1987-95

Sample text

This structure came with its own personnel hierarchy. Divisions were headed by Assistant Secs, sections by Counsellors, and subsections by First Secs, assisted by Third Secs, and assisted again by the Clerical staff. At the very top was Noel Dorr, the Department Secretary, to whom the Assistant Secs reported. Every morning he met them for what was known as ‘Morning Prayers’. He was shadowed (and shadowed was the appropriate word) by the Deputy Secretary, Robin Fogarty, who in Noel Dorr’s absence, for example, convened the lunch against Haughey.

Or of the fact that the Civil Service is the real and permanent Government and that the politicians are only puppets, time-serving mannequins who, if they are clever, will work to the strengths of their scriptwriting masters. This Haughey did. It helped, of course, that replacing the departed Sean Donlon as Secretary was Noel Dorr, a monkish and mild-mannered man with a slight stoop. He was the ideal Civil Servant; incredibly bright, attentive but invisible. You’d hardly know he was in the room.

Back in 1987 we were issued a pager so as to be contactable outside the office. Later, this was replaced by a mobile phone. It’s now almost quaint to think back to when the bleep would go off in a bar or café on a crowded Saturday afternoon. People who knew you assumed an emergency — a revolt in Central Africa perhaps. ’ you’d shout into a nearby phone, keeping up the image. In reality it was more likely to be bleach-blond Mrs Murphy and her family needing emergency passports to go to a ‘family funeral’ in Fungerola.

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