The Dublin Circuit Criminal Court did what most citizens would have wanted it to do yesterday when, for the first time, it decided that a minister should go to jail for six months following criminal charges. Judge Desmond Hogan sentenced former minister for justice Ray Burke to six months imprisonment for making false tax returns to the Revenue Commissioners over a period of nine years.
Supporters of the former Fianna Fáil politician - and there are now few - have complained the sentence was unduly harsh. But anything less than a six-month sentence would have sent the wrong signal to a society that is already ambivalent about the gravity of white-collar crime and tax evasion.
Ray Burke is the first minister to be jailed on criminal charges. The former Dublin North TD was a politician of charm and ability. He worked hard for his constituents as he became corrupt and self-serving. And, like his party leader and Taoiseach, Mr Charles Haughey, he used his political position to enrich himself and to enhance a private lifestyle. He betrayed the trust of the electorate.
The Flood tribunal found that he had received corrupt payments amounting to more than a quarter of a million pounds over three decades of public life. He abused the positions he held on Dublin County Council, in the Dáil and in Government. Burke broke the laws he was sworn, as minister for justice, to uphold. He and a handful of colleagues represented blatant corruption in high places.
In passing sentence, Judge Hogan said he had taken into account the mitigating circumstances of Burke's age, the state of his health, his guilty plea and the fact that he was now "tax-compliant". Such comments will probably guard against a successful appeal against the severity of the sentence.
Burke is 61 years of age. He looked remarkably fit and healthy during his court appearance. And he pleaded guilty to certain offences last year on condition that more serious charges under the 1993 tax amnesty were dropped. It could be argued that the former minister has escaped extremely lightly.
The court case is a reminder of a particularly odious era in Irish political life, when corruption and the abuse of power for personal gain became deeply entrenched. The work of various tribunals shone light into dark and nasty corners where the interests of politicians and businessmen intersected. As a consequence, codes of ethics were established for ministers and elected representatives. And rules in relation to political donations were introduced.
The critics of tribunals may be disappointed that the evidence adduced does not lead to automatic jail. The rule of law requires a separate and higher standard of proof before conviction. That is proper. But the tribunals have provided one great service. They have lifted the lid on the furtive, secret and dishonest behaviour of the powerful and wealthy, imposing the only sanction that concerns them: exposure.