WHAT DO you do when you see a young, lithe man attack a middle-aged woman on a Dublin Street and tear her Christmas shopping bag from her, brutally pushing her to the ground and then running off? You get involved, of course, and on that December 1973 winter evening I chased the man down Moore Street shouting "Stop Thief" at the top of my voice, writes Seán Mac Connell. A man tried to do just that and he was assaulted by the thief who broke his nose.
Discretion getting the better of valour, I stopped to render aid to the second victim but noted what the thief was wearing, his height, and all the other physical characteristics I could write down in my reporter’s notebook.
I then did what any decent person would do, contacting the gardaí in Store Street and within a short space of time found myself picking out the thief from a line up at Kilmainham Garda station.
I also found out on that day that the victim was not an ordinary shopper but a senior lady who was working for one of the multiple retail outlets in the city centre, on her way to lodge the store’s takings for the day without an escort. She did not pick out her attacker.
I made a statement and knew in time I would be called on to give evidence against the man who turned out to be a career criminal with a long list of convictions. He was, as the gardaí say, “well known” to them.
From this point on the story becomes relevant to what is happening today, with the new legislation to bring gangland cases into the Special Criminal Court – because although I did not know it, that was where I was bound.
The coalition government of Fine Gael and Labour had taken up office earlier that year and it had decided it was going to transfer criminal cases into the then recently established Special Criminal Court.
It had been set up by the outgoing Fianna Fáil government to handle cases being brought against republicans when there had been a high number of acquittals of republicans by juries in the State – although there had been no evidence of intimidation of witnesses.
The establishment of the non-jury courts in the Republic had caused outrage in the State and the fact an accused could be imprisoned on the opinion of a senior garda had caused a lot of concern.
At the time society here was digesting the impact of internment without trial in the North and the Bloody Sunday killings which had been the best recruitment tool ever handed to Republicans – they had more recruits than they could handle.
The setting up of the non-jury courts here was opposed by a wide cross-section of society: the legal profession, the medical professions and the trade union movement. Even the then opposition castigated it. The Irish government was in the process of bringing the British government through the European courts for torturing detainees in the North.
However, in power, the coalition government decided it was time to “criminalise” the Special Courts by putting what was known as “ordinary crime” in the same court as “subversive crime”. This met with ferocious opposition from the legal profession.
The end result of this was that I was summoned as a witness to give evidence before the Special Criminal Court in one of the first non-republican cases – something I had not envisaged happening at any stage.
I told the senior prosecuting garda I was prepared to give evidence in any court in the land, but I could not, in conscience, give evidence in a non-jury court which was opposed by so many people who feared the loss of civil liberties.
As can well be imagined, the State was none too happy about this, especially as I was a key witness who had positively identified the thief and the case could have collapsed without my input.
Delicate negotiations followed and I was told if I failed to appear in the Special Criminal Court as a witness, I would face imprisonment on contempt charges. Failure to give evidence would be regarded as failure to recognise the court and I would end up in Mountjoy.
However, if I was prepared to go to court and sit with the witnesses, the likelihood was the solicitor acting for the thief, was likely to enter a guilty plea. Because my evidence was so strong he was unlikely to get an acquittal. This meant I would not have to testify.
Supported by a few good friends, but armed with a change of clothing, toothbrush and a speech for the judges which reiterated my willingness to give evidence in any other court other than theirs, I sat with the other witnesses in the box in Green Street.
The solicitor, one of the top criminal defenders in Dublin at the time who knew me well from covering the courts, checked the witness list, entered a guilty plea and the defendant was imprisoned.
Not long later, the practice of placing non-subversive cases in the Special Criminal Court came to an end following legal challenges, but also because of the increase in the workload of republican cases as the Troubles deepened.
As for me. I developed witness blindness. I have never seen a single crime since then.