But that evaluation must not mean revisionism. And it must not, through sentimentality or pity or friendship . . . or plain cant . . . mean that we airbrush the truth of the Boss.

All week, friends and leaders from the worlds of business, politics and the arts have paid glowing tribute to Haughey's unique personality, wit, intellect and political prowess, and have recounted many acts of kindness and generosity.

Those friends and political allies set the agenda for the week of his burial: that he was responsible for the Celtic Tiger; that he started the peace process; that he passed some brilliant legislation from the Succession Act to free travel passes for old people; and that he was a man who sacrificed his life to public service and who . . . despite being given vast sums of money by powerful businessmen . . . never did anything corrupt.

But now, if real reconciliation and healing is to happen, this sort of whitewash must end and everyone, including those who knew him well and worked closely with him, must provide a more honest analysis of that bitter part of our history.

Last week, for example, in a long assessment of the Haughey years, his former close adviser Martin Mansergh thought it acceptable to repeat Haughey's own excuse for accepting 10m-plus from wealthy businessman by saying if Churchill could do it, then why not him. It is not acceptable.

Even those who were his political allies and friends must acknowledge the truth . . . that for three decades, his leadership convulsed and divided this country and the man widely acknowledged as the greatest political influence of his generation reigned over a system of brown envelopes and bribery; of tax evasion and off-shore accounts; of 'Irish solutions' to issues of morality; and a respect for the law based on who you knew could get you off, rather than a rigorous adherence to due process.

The pursuit of power and personal indulgence became more important than the formulation and execution of policy.

As a result, people suffered and the political system was almost fatally undermined. For Haughey, it must be remembered, retaining power was more important than providing adequate compensation to haemophiliacs who had been given contaminated blood by the state.

The impact of the McCracken revelations . . . that he paid no tax, had spent almost £16,000 of taxpayers' money on Charvet shirts and dined with his mistress in Le Coq Hardi while "the little people" found it hard to afford baked beans on toast for their kids at the end of a week's unemployment benefit . . . cannot be underestimated. The damage done to the body politic was as serious as the wounds the Catholic church suffered and continues to suffer as a result of the Bishop Casey affair and because of its history of hamfisted response to clerical child abuse.

Cynicism towards politicians is expected. But the revelations about Haughey irrevocably severed the bond of trust between the electorate and government, a bond which even now is barely reestablished.

The loss of faith suffered by the 'Haughey generation' towards our political system has been bequeathed as apathy to today's younger people. Both were reflected in the much smaller than expected numbers filing past his coffin as he lay in state in Donnycarney church.

Today's young people probably find it difficult to understand the passion that the Haughey memories generate.

One of the most memorable quotes in all the hundreds of thousands of words which heaped both praise and odium on the former taoiseach this week, was from a young twentysomething who happened to be in the area.

"Charlie Who?" she asked, perfectly innocently. Charlie Who is right. The man, just buried with all the pomp and ceremony due to a former taoiseach, remains an enigma.

Bertie Ahern believes that, if his life is laid out as a balance sheet, the positives will outweigh the negatives.

But for the history students of tomorrow, for the families of yesterday's generation who suffered during that bleak period . . . and who always felt that, if their needs had been put before the need for Charles Haughey to remain in power, the Celtic Tiger might have happened a decade earlier . . . honesty is needed if faith in politics and politicians is to be restored.

Regretsf Charles Haughey clearly had a few, judging by the poignant account of his last years by Vincent Browne. But in the end, he did it his way . . . and a generation paid a big price.