Tánaiste sealed fate by appointing Nóirín
MAURICE McCabe was an ordinary garda, a man who rose to the rank of sergeant through hard work. When he tried to highlight malpractice by fellow gardaí, not only in his own area but throughout the force, the response of the State was hostile.
Before an Oireachtas committee, the then commissioner Martin Callinan called the actions of whistleblowers ‘disgusting’. At that hearing also sat his successor, Nóirín O’Sullivan, whose own legal team subsequently set out a strategy of attacking Sergeant McCabe’s character, integrity and credibility.
Even the Department of Justice, which might actually have perked up and chosen to have his claims checked out by an independent body, instead settled for an investigation by the very force he was accusing of wrongdoing. In short, the response of the body politic to Maurice McCabe was lacking in every way.
Ultimately the vast majority of what Sgt McCabe alleged was true – though it took a terrifyingly long time for that truth to emerge, and it very likely never would have but for the actions of other politicians, and the media, who supported him.
And now, after the sudden departures of one Justice Minister, two Garda Commissioners and a confidential recipient, it is now Tánaiste Frances Fitzgerald’s turn to face the music for the failures of the State when it came to Garda malpractice.
Much is being made of whether Ms Fitzgerald, as Justice Minister, should have acted on the email at the heart of the current political crisis: that is something on which there are opposing views.
What is beyond doubt, though, is that she never should have appointed Nóirín O’Sullivan to the post of Garda Commissioner. The day she made that appointment – in the face of warnings that she must choose an outsider instead – was the day she sealed her own political fate. Ms Fitzgerald had been given a chance to sweep a new broom through the Phoenix Park, and to root out all that was and is rotten in the force. She chose not to. For that decision, she alone is responsible.
This decision was taken even though Nóirín O’Sullivan was demonstrably part of the culture that had seen the Garda Síochána spend years protecting itself and viciously attacking its critics. She was a senior figure not only during the McCabe case, but also when penalty points were being quashed across the board, breath tests were being exaggerated, and when the finances of the Garda Training College were being run in a shocking fashion.
Ms O’Sullivan was part of the problem, not the solution – yet the Tánaiste kept insisting the opposite. Even when it became clear that the Commissioner was in the wrong, and was unable or unwilling to root out the rottenness in the force, Ms Fitzgerald stuck by her.
That is the irony here: had Frances Fitzgerald done the right thing when appointing a Garda Commissioner, she would not this weekend be having to decide whether or not to sacrifice her career. If she had brought in an outsider to clean up the force, there would have been no strategy to attack Sgt McCabe, no email – and nothing to worry about. But she did not: and that is the real reason why we find ourselves today staring down the barrel.
Whether or not the Tánaiste steps down this weekend is for her to decide. She alone can measure her ambitions against the public’s – and indeed the Dáil’s – wish to avoid a general election.
But in making that decision, Ms Fitzgerald should be mindful that this is not only about her response to an email: it is about the fact that, back in 2014, she had a chance with one appointment to fundamentally change the Garda Síochána for the better. She made the wrong decision – and that is why she finds herself staring into the abyss today.