We give power to gardaí for a reason. Let’s not undermine them with a ragbag of giddy vigilantes

THE YouTube video of the shell-shocked RTÉ producer Kieran Creaven being confronted by a vigilante group in Leeds, makes for disconcerting viewing. Right before our eyes, we see a man who allegedly groomed someone he thought was a 13-year-old girl on the internet play the innocent to the rising taunts of his accusers.

We are also watching an admittedly fairly disciplined group of men and women, who have patiently hunted him down over months, toy with their trembling quarry before surrendering him to the police. The dramatic scene which played out for more than 30 minutes had a gripping quality, even though we knew the ending.

We knew that Creaven had not been strung up by a violent lynch mob or abused in any way, that he had been safely surrendered to the authorities so that justice could have its day.

We knew that by their actions, the Predator Exposure group had made the world a slightly safer place for children and that for once when questionable methods are involved, theirs was a case of the end justifying the means.

But for all that, the longer the footage continued, the more questions it raised about whether clandestine vigilante groups, even if they operate calmly and in concert with the police, should be tolerated. What if the scene with Kieran Creaven was repeated on a different street corner every day of the week?

The vigilantes’ influence would grow, they would want to take over the police and we would be delivered into the terrifying arms of anarchy and chaos.

Of course there is no hint of that at this point.

The calm and measured manner in which the self-styled Irish paedophile hunter group Silent Justice has so far behaved, not to mention the tacit support it enjoys from swathes of the public, probably explains why the gardaí are taking such a softly-softly approach to vigilantism in their new policy document

According to the report in today’s paper, the document advises the gardaí to ‘calm’ situations involving vigilantes and to try and ‘encourage and remind’ all members of the public involved in vigilante-type behaviour that it is always ‘preferable to provide An Garda Síochána with any information about alleged potential sexual offences against children rather than confront individuals themselves’.

It is as if the gardaí accept that vigilantism, while fraught with danger and threat, is inevitable, and would like to co-operate with groups when possible, rather than provoking their hostility.

The policy paper reportedly does acknowledge its dark side; there are instructions to gardaí about taking a hard line and arresting vigilantes if they are involved in criminal behaviour such as incitement to hatred.

The paper suggests that the gardaí are intent on walking a fine line between not alienating the public by coming down too heavily on groups who are often perceived as fighting a just cause, while also insisting on lawful behaviour.

For that’s the nub of the problem with all forms of vigilantism: the hodge-podge of characters it has the potential to attract.

Public revulsion at paedophilia combined with Garda impotence in tackling it – for a myriad of reasons, including lack of resources and the speed at which technology has created a cyberscape of new opportunities for every sort of pervert and pimp – makes any sort of attempt to protect the young and the vulnerable seem justified.

Intimidation

Groups such as Predator Exposure and Silent Justice, who doubtless have many fine and upstanding citizens in their membership, have received a stamp of approval in some quarters that they might not necessarily get under a different banner.

It’s not the first time by a long shot that ad hoc groups have organised to take control of an issue. And they have often used violence and intimidation as their instruments. Taking the law into one’s own hands is a common response to a social malaise when the official channels, be it the police service or social supports, seem unwilling or unable to act.

The drugs scourge in parts of inner-city Dublin saw a rise of vigilantism at different periods over recent decades; in nationalist west Belfast, before the peace process, the Sinn Féin gangs ruled the roost.

Parents of children who are violated or groomed can suffer enormously from anger and helplessness; their desperation may tempt them to seek revenge, particularly when the State can offer them no form of closure.

Silent Justice was set up after its founder realised that a member of his own family was groomed online. The group’s Irish leader is a father of two children.

Most of us are sympathetic to their cause, even if we deplore their methods.

We also know that while many vigilantes are motivated by good reasons, not all of them are honourable. Some could be seeking a platform to just make trouble, and gain the attention and respect they hanker after; they could have any number of nefarious reasons for volunteering.

Operating in the shadows and in secrecy, vigilante groups are, by their very nature, magnets for hotheads and intriguers. People who will cut corners to get a result are prone to take things too far and end up doing more harm than good.

The head of Silent Justice in Ireland spoke last week to the Irish Daily Mail in such a chilling and extreme way that it was hard to believe he was steering anything other than a lynch mob.

‘There are thousands of paedophiles in Ireland, they are on every street corner,’ he said, adding that ‘the only remedy is death... with regards to these guys, I believe in the death penalty’.

Then there is the issue of the tactics deployed by Silent Justice which can put them on legally dubious ground. In the North, a man committed suicide after being confronted by them.

Recently, the group identified two men in Drogheda who it entrapped when one of its ‘decoys’, a 35-year-old woman, pretended to be a child between the ages of ten and 14 years.

One of the two men was accosted outside his home, with sources claiming that the vigilantes had called into his neighbours to warn them about him. According to Ali Bracken’s report in today’s newspaper (Page 8), a move like that could legally be viewed as incitement to hatred and lead to criminal charges.

‘If vigilantes are involved in incitement to hatred, which there is a possible case of in Drogheda, people could face criminal charges,’ said a source. ‘Also, vigilantes should ensure they do not falsely imprison people or trespass. There is no suggestion this has happened. But these situations are not something gardaí believe are helpful to public safety.’

There is a danger that managing vigilante groups will increasingly become a headache for An Garda Síochána and a drain on resources.

We hand authority to our elected officials and to public servants such as gardaí who are selected on the basis that they are level-headed and trained enough to exercise it responsibly.

Let’s not give any power or applause to self-appointed vigilantes or take it on trust that they will obey the letter of the law.