Free The Trib by David Kenny

He didn’t moan or complain. He walked the walk instead of talking the talk
    18 July 2010
    F lying into our capital city over Howth and Bull Island, the natural beauty of Dublin Bay never ceases to amaze. In its own way, it’s as spectacular as San Francisco Bay, yet nowhere near as lauded.
    Part of the reason for that is we’ve never made the most of this extraordinary asset. Instead of having a beautiful harbour development, we have a huge area of brown-field development that is home to a major working port, an ESB power station and a sewage plant. In case that wasn’t enough, there will soon be an incinerator there.
    One of the biggest mistakes of the past forty years is that while Dublin expanded ever westwards, the opportunity to build a new city a mile or two from O’Connell Street was squandered.
    If some government had had the vision and the cojones to shift Dublin Port twenty miles or so up the coast and redevelop the area with high density, urban living – serviced by high-speed rail links and restaurants and shops – the impact on the capital would have been amazing. Think Sydney Harbour or even a much bigger version of Dublin’s stunning Grand Canal Quay.
    To be fair, the much maligned PDs did trumpet the concept five years ago but nobody was listening. No surprise there as planning, urban or rural, has never been of huge importance in Ireland. Unless of course, it’s about people demanding their right to build their 4,000 sq ft house wherever they want regardless of whether the land is suitable for a septic tank.
    Corruption has played a large role in devaluing planning, but it goes much deeper than that. There are 440,000 septic tanks in Ireland compared to 100,000 in Scotland, which has a bigger population. That statistic speaks volumes about the respect we give to good planning here.
    But amidst all the bad planning and chaotic decision making over the past fifty years, Sean Dublin Bay Loftus, who sadly passed away last weekend, stood like a beacon of light.
    Loftus was an extraordinary man and an extraordinary politician for a number of reasons. He was Ireland’s first environmentalist public representative. Without him, Dublin Bay – under-utilised as it is – would be far, far worse.
    Loftus, who lectured in planning law, was one of the few politicians who understood town planning. He campaigned over many decades to protect the bay from the same kind of thinking that bulldozed Georgian Dublin.
    At various stages, he fought plans for an oil refinery, a landfill to allow the expansion of the port and a motorway across Dublin Bay. All those crusades, mercifully, were successful and for that Loftus deserves much of the credit. He was a tireless campaigner and was light years ahead of his time in his use of PR. His decision to change his name by deed poll to incorporate the campaigns he was fighting was pure genius. When he finally won his Dáil seat in 1981 he was called Sean Alderman Dublin Bay Rockall Loftus.
    His campaign literature with his face imposed on a bulldog always featured the tagline ‘tenacity’ and ‘integrity’. Those two words summed him up. His integrity and sense of honour were beyond question – Loftus was a gentleman to his fingertips.
    But it was his tenacity that will probably live longest in the memory. One of the things that is most annoying about the lazy dismissal of politicians that is so prevalent today, is that it ignores the sheer guts it takes to put yourself before the people and have them judge you. Sean Loftus did that on literally dozens of occasions in local, general and European elections.
    He fought thirteen general elections, despite only being successful once. Undaunted, he kept campaigning, he kept fighting the good fight, he kept doing what he believed in. That tenacity deservedly got its reward when he served as Lord Mayor of Dublin from 1995 to 1996. No one has ever deserved the position more.
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