The presumption of innocence was trampled upon in the unseemly rush to oust the Taoiseach, writes Paul Cullen
REGARDLESS OF what you think about Bertie Ahern, the planning tribunal's role in his enforced departure should give any right-thinking citizen pause for thought.
Three times over the last 11 years, Ahern has returned from the polls with a democratic mandate from the voters. Last year, leaked revelations ensured the electorate was well aware of the allegations swirling around him, and still he was returned to power.
At no time has Ahern been charged with any offence before the courts, let alone convicted. Neither has he been the subject of any adverse finding by the tribunal, or any other State inquiry. Nothing he has done has been linked to any corrupt act or payment.
If you belong to the "no smoke without fire" brigade, none of this will matter. Ahern is already guilty in your eyes, the mere fact that he has been hauled up to Dublin Castle evidence enough of his wrongdoing. By this yardstick, the self-employed are all tax dodgers, the media are liars and the clergy are collectively tainted by the scandal of sex abuse.
The rest of us might reflect that we live in a democracy where the presumption of innocence is paramount, that the world is an imperfect place populated by imperfect people, that the passage of time blunts memory and that, in our own hearts, few of us would like to undergo the endless, forensic scrutiny the Taoiseach has endured at the hands of the tribunal's lawyers.
The unseemly ousting of the Taoiseach raises the bar for political rectitude in this country to new heights. No allowance is made for personal difficulties or the passage of time and little credit is given for achievement in other areas. Hypocrisy is the order of the day; Fine Gael well knows that its own finances were as messy as Ahern's back in the early 1990s.
The realities of political conduct in those pre-Ethics Act days were that financing was conducted on an ad hoc basis and little distinction was made between personal and political monies. It was wrong and it needed to be changed, and it was eventually changed. We may disapprove of the behaviour of politicians in that time, but we may not blithely apply the standards of today to that period.
While the Taoiseach sits under a cloud of the tribunal's making, vast areas of public life that deserve proper scrutiny remain in the shadow. In 10 years of its existence, the tribunal has yet to look at allegations of planning corruption outside Dublin; in fact, it never will. Through incompetence, it will never fulfil an earlier commitment to publicly investigate the payment of £30,000 by Fitzwilton to Ray Burke in 1989. Its investigations into the likes of Liam Lawlor and Jim Kennedy appear to have run into the sand. A decade has given us four "interim" reports, no findings and an undefined mountain of bills.
In contrast, it has pursued Ahern with astonishing vigour without ever establishing a link to corruption. The original allegation, in which developer Tom Gilmartin says he was told by another developer that the latter had paid money to Ahern, is hearsay and wouldn't be let within an ass's roar of a court. Gilmartin has proved as flaky a witness as has ever come to Dublin Castle.
None of this should be taken as a defence of Bertie Ahern. The Taoiseach has questions to answer. Some evidence points to an uncomfortably close relationship with friendly businessmen; other parts to the mismanagement of funds intended for Fianna Fáil. This, while interesting, is ultimately a matter for the party itself.
The standard response to the questions I have raised is to say "Well, it wouldn't have been necessary if he had co-operated properly with the tribunal." This is true, but it isn't the whole truth. It doesn't take account of the level of the demands made by the inquiry and that grey area of uncertainty in the mind that grows with time. It assumes that the tribunal functions normally, and that it moves at a reasonable rate, which it doesn't.
Unlike the media, which has been singing off the same hymn sheet, the public was happy to accept that the questions surrounding Ahern's finances arose because of his marriage break-up. Then came the revelation about the use of Fianna Fáil money to help buy a house for Celia Larkin and the perception that his long-time secretary Gráinne Carruth was hung out to dry in the witness box.
These last two incidents caused unease within Fianna Fáil and probably tipped the balance against him among the public. Wisely for himself and the country, he decided to go now rather than battle insuperable forces in the tribunal and the media.
My advice for those who prosecuted this unseemly campaign would be to find a new target for their bile, let their guns be turned on themselves.