Voices
And so, it ends with a whimper and not a bang. After years of incessant, unapologetic agitation and revisionism, Sean Quinn has finally, if reluctantly, conceded to the inevitable. The manufacturing empire that bears his name and courses through his veins is no longer his, and never will be. There will be no ceremonial return of the vanquished king to the throne, no final restorative act to this Shakespearian tragedy. Instead, amid the pathos and hubris that has clouded Quinn in recent years, lives merely a begrudging acceptance of a harsh reality.
Yet, as Quinn finally relinquishes his dream of reclaiming his old kingdom, it is important to remember that he is not the victim here; it is important to remember that the sense of victimhood he has espoused for close to a decade is just part of a finely crafted narrative that serves only to deflect curiosity away from his own failings and his own choices.
And it has never been more important to remember that Quinn, despite the billions he lost on a reckless gamble on a feckless bank, would never have been dethroned if he had accepted a multiplicity of advice, admitted he was wrong or merely compromised. That is the real tragedy, and the victims of that tragedy are, in a peculiar twist, many of those who have continued to blindly support the cause of Sean Quinn.
Indeed, as he recently revealed to Channel 4 television that he was no longer intent on reclaiming ownership of Quinn Industrial Holdings, the tone and content of his words were telling: lacking contrition and grace, Quinn was self-serving, sententious and dripping in a singular bitterness which has come to almost define the tycoon in recent times.
Quinn had, he said, designs upon reclaiming ownership until a month ago, when his former lieutenant Kevin Lunney had his leg broken in two places with an iron bar, was stabbed with a knife across his face, neck and hands and had a number of fingernails cut off in a terrifying ordeal inside a horsebox following an abduction when on his way home to his wife and six children.
The violent torture bestowed upon his former protégé, the horrific culmination of an eight year campaign of intimidation and violence against the management of Quinn Industrial Holdings, was a turning point for Quinn. “People can say whatever they want about me, but I don’t want to be seen as being a beneficiary of abuse or of criminal activity,” Quinn said.
Quinn has consistently condemned the violence and sabotage against his old business, repeatedly calling for it to end. Indeed, as Quinn himself told Channel 4, he had “no hand, act or part or no knowledge or no gain” in the brutal adduction of Lunney, a mild mannered and well respected businessman.
“And that he would know that if something would have happened to Kevin Lunney, that people would be looking in his direction. Wouldn’t I know that? So, unless they consider me a real idiot, there’s no way that I could allow that to be done in my name.”
And yet, as he finally ends his campaign to be restored, there is one simple point: there is little evidence to back up most of his claims.
However he highlighted the anger in some parts of the community about how he was treated by the new executives. “The locals are also very angry about what they’ve done to me, throwing me out the gate, giving me nothing, sacking me. They’re very, very angry,” he told the channel sitting in his mansion in Ballyconnell.
And this is the core point – despite the dozens of attacks and acts of intimidation upon those who have sought to resuscitate Quinn’s old businesses in recent years, it is Quinn who has somehow set himself up as the victim. Potential suitors of Quinn businesses have received bullets in the post. Security guards on wind farms have been threatened with rifles. Cars have been petrol bombed. Executives have been told to get out or “Face the gun”, have had pig’s heads placed on their doorsteps and have been ordered to get a security detail.
He has, of course, played no role whatsoever in any of the violence and harassment faced by his former colleagues and friends, and he has persistently deplored it.
Yet, it is Quinn who is still pleading the victim, the wounded one. It is Quinn who still claims to have been wronged and cheated at every twist, at every turn – by banks and bondholders, by regulators and government, by former friends and management.
And yet, as he finally ends his campaign to be restored, there is one simple point: there is little evidence to back up most of his claims. Instead, the evidence points to a man who was offered numerous chances, opportunities and openings to have remained in control of his businesses. And, through his own truculence and defiance, he spurned each and every one of them.
Forget the constant historical revisionism: Sean Quinn is not the victim here.
Verbal vitriol and defiance
Amid the claims and counter-claims, there is one incontestable truth about the decision of Anglo Irish Bank and other lenders to seize control of the Quinn Group: it did not need to happen. Indeed, Quinn was been offered numerous chances to cut a deal with his lenders and reclaim ownership. He singularly rebuffed all of them. Anglo, and the other lenders who were owed a combined €1.3 billion from the group, were acutely conscious of the loyalty Quinn engendered in the region, and the potential backlash against any move to oust him, particularly in the midst of a wider economic calamity.
So, they sought a deal that would have reduced their mammoth exposure and left Quinn in harness. Under the deal, prepared in 2010 by Murdoch McKilliop a wily Scottish trouble-shooter dispatched to the border to help run the businesses by the lenders, Quinn would have resumed full ownership if things went well.
The group’s bondholders and lenders were willing to write off €550 million if Quinn would pay a higher rate of interest and cede a portion of equity. Quinn turned the deal down. Around the same time as the deal was turned down, McKillop started to receive lots of letters dripping with venom criticising his role within the company and accusing him of depressing shareholder value from a number of members of subsidiary boards within the company. Even then, the loyalty was obvious – and understandable, Quinn had after all created jobs in a region with historic high rates of unemployment.
In the end, despite the heady rhetoric in the aftermath of the administration of Quinn Insurance, he never actually challenged the decision in the courts.
There were other chances too – months later, he met with the bondholders in London with a small team of close advisers. Again, he refused to back down on either equity or the interest rate, although he did volunteer to step back to a more strategic role within the business after the bondholders said they had lost faith in him. In the end, the lenders simply did not believe Quinn’s various promises. His intractableness exhausted their patience.
This follows a sad pattern, one of obstinance and denial. The Financial Regulator offered Quinn numerous chances to restore order to the faltering, ailing balance sheet of Quinn Insurance. Quinn promised to remedy the situation, but either through lack of financial power or sheer stubbornness, the money never materialised. The regulator went out of its way to avoid nationalising the insurer and crystallising its future losses; Quinn simply refused to engage or compromise. In the end, despite the heady rhetoric in the aftermath of the administration of Quinn Insurance, he never actually challenged the decision in the courts.
And what of his relationship with Quinn Industrial Holdings, the wing of his former conglomerate bought back by a group of former Quinn executives with private equity backers back in 2014? Again it is worth remembering that their first move was to restore him to the business, with a salary of €500,000 a year and a lofty title. They valued his role in building up the business, and they believed his incorporation would allay local concerns across the green borderlands that he ruled for decades.
Within months, the relationship soured. Quinn quickly became disenchanted with the manner the business was being run, annoyed at the salaries being paid to its executives and frustrated with the strategic direction. Arguing he had a side deal under which the Quinn family would be restored to power, he sought more control, more equity, more power. Quinn was being paid €500,000 annually at the time by the company he so complained about.
Quinn, a visionary industrialist, was either unwilling or unable to act as merely a consultant, albeit a highly paid one.
Ultimately, the US backers accused Quinn of driving a wedge between management and asked him to repair relations. Later, he was told he would have his deal terminated if he did not withdraw his demands for a share in the company for now, as well as his request for a board seat and a greater say in the overall strategic direction of the business. Quinn was also asked to withdraw allegations of impropriety he has made against the management of the company, including an attack on profit margins and executive pay. These latter points was particularly offensive for the businesses’ top management of Liam McCaffrey, Dara O’Reilly and Kevin Lunney, who had all worked with Quinn for many years, supporting him through good and bad.
In the end, Quinn was ousted. He was simply not prepared to play any role other that the ultimately boss. Quinn, a visionary industrialist, was either unwilling or unable to act as merely a consultant, albeit a highly paid one.
In May 2016, a mere 13 months after his glorious return, when he was greeted with both applause and cameras, he was gone. But the verbal vitriol against the company’s management had not gone anywhere.
*****
The accounts for Quinn Industrial Holdings paint their own story. Revenues increased from €208 million in 2017 to €240 million last year. Despite increased investment in facilities, pre-tax profits remained robust at €10.9 million. The company employs 816 people, mostly in the Fermanagh and Cavan region. With a healthy balance sheet and room for growth, it is, by any metric, a very well-run company.
Quinn, however, has a different view. While criticising the attacks on the company (running to more than 80 at last count), he has consistently criticised the company itself, particularly management. “The company is now a laughing stock,” Quinn told a rally of 600 supporters in Cavan as recently as August 2018 – it is worth noting that Quinn did not refer to any financial figures to back up his claims, merely unsupported supposition.
Yet, even last week, as he finally accepted he will never regain the company he founded all those years ago, he still found time to talk of local anger at management and how harshly he was treated.
He added: “I can tell you, everything I tell you, I believe to be true. I’ve said at all times I want to buy the company. Could I sort it out? Do I feel if I was back in the morning, would I make a success of it? Yes. I don’t think there is anyone, even at 70 years of age plus, who would make a greater success of it.”
The statement was greeted with applause, but little questioning. It was a pity, because it would be fascinating to see what Quinn genuinely believes are at issue with a company growing revenues, profits and jobs numbers.
Quinn, of course, has now his own business to manage – a new online betting venture called Quinn Bet. Yet, it seems the business he wants to talk more about is the one lost rather than the one he currently owns. Perhaps that is a sign of his own refusal to move on with his life, to accept past mistakes and admit he may have been wrong.
Yet, even last week, as he finally accepted he will never regain the company he founded all those years ago, he still found time to talk of local anger at management and how harshly he was treated. His perpetual self-regard is a gross disservice to his legacy and his locality.
