PROTECT QUALITY REPORTING
FROM this vantage point, it’s easy to forget how Bertie Ahern once bestrode Irish life like a colossus. His handprint was everywhere; from the economic miracle that turned large swathes of the population into property millionaires to the yearned-for peace in Northern Ireland, achieved by dint of his doggedness and supreme skill as a dealmaker.
Bertie’s humble, man-of-the-people persona appeared to show that unlike his grandiose predecessor Charlie Haughey, he served purely the national interest. His lack of ostentation helped sweep him into power over three successive elections, making him the most successful politician of his generation.
To his army of admirers, the so-called Teflon Taoiseach could do no wrong as he crushed those who questioned his economic decisions and swatted away persistent rumours about corruption.
Honesty
But the Taoiseach’s cunningly constructed masquerade was blown apart in 2008 over many months of testimony, often weeks apart, at the Mahon Tribunal. His far-fetched explanation for his finances shattered his credibility, while his readiness to dispatch his tearful constituency secretary into the witness box to give cover for his tissue of lies robbed him of his reputation for honour and honesty. Bertie’s downfall was achieved thanks to the painstaking work of the Tribunal’s lawyers and investigators who unearthed an extraordinary web of mysterious bank accounts and puzzling payments concerning his finances.
But journalists also played an enormous role; this newspaper in particular diligently interpreted the Tribunal’s findings for the public, while relentlessly keeping the pressure on the Taoiseach as day after day he squirmed in the witness box, desperately trying to save his skin.
To be sure, many members of the public who turned up faithfully at Dublin Castle could have given a straightforward account of that day’s proceedings. But only a trained journalist who had followed the narrative closely, who knew of past evidence and future witnesses could have joined the dots of Bertie’s testimony, highlighted its inherent contradictions while flagging up its significance for his and the then government’s future.
Such unflinching reportage from the Mahon Tribunal condemned Bertie in that it showed that the Teflon Taoiseach was lying under oath and exposed a Fianna Fáil underworld of safes stuffed with cash and dig-outs among businessmen cronies.
The then taoiseach’s resignation as a result of that shameful performance came tragically too late to save the economy. Although again it was journalists who helped expose the Celtic Tiger as a massive scam, essentially a giant Ponzi scheme which was ultimately unsustainable and would destroy livelihoods while visiting economic armageddon on the country. The role of journalism as a cornerstone of democracy and to hold a mirror up to reckless decision-making and corruption was also exemplified in a series of exposés in this newspaper about tawdry or outright criminal behaviour in Leinster House.
Good old-fashioned journalism was responsible for the story of how the then senator Ivor Callely forged documents to claim almost €3,000 in retrospective expenses for mobile phones in 2007, after he lost his Dáil seat.
Already suspended from the Seanad for 20 days after the furore over his dodgy mileage claims, the revelation led to the disgraced Callely being sentenced to five months in prison.
Scrutiny
In 2012 we reported that Sinn Féin’s Aengus Ó Snodaigh had taken more than €50,000 worth of printer cartridges supplied by Leinster House in just two years. The Sinn Féin deputy defended his heavy usage of Dáil resources, denying that the clampdown on cartridges from 2009 was a direct response to his behaviour.
We also broke the story of the €2,639 worth of calls made from the phone of an elected member of the Dáil to the Celebrities Go Wild reality TV show in which Michael Healy-Rae was the victor.
The continued drip, drip of stories showing unnecessary extravagance in Leinster House, not to mention the greater surveillance of publicly elected figures and scrutiny of politicians’ expenses, has led to a cleaning up of Irish politics. While SIPO, the Standards in Public Office Commission, may be the official ethics watchdog, how many such examples has it investigated?
In truth, it is the ability of journalists to press for more transparency and to highlight breaches of rules and regulations that acts as the true deterrent against corruption in the corridors of power.
The reality, however, is that none of these stories of excessive spending and a free-wheeling attitude to Dáil resources would have broken if journalists were not paid salaries to attend the Dáil every day, to build up their contacts and dedicatedly follow every debate and piece of legislation as it progresses through the Dáil. It costs money to be the people’s eyes and ears.
Intimidation
Fact-checking, travelling to check out tip-offs or to cover Irish interest stories abroad, even taking time to nurture sources and conduct research may be the nuts and bolts of news-gathering and investigations but they require considerable resources.
Protecting journalists against legal threats or intimidation is another layer of expense media organisations must meet if journalists are to continue their work.
A free, independent and robust press comes at a price that no high-minded citizen journalist, or keyboard warrior spewing one-sided and ideologically driven analysis of current affairs into cyberspace could ever hope to meet.
Nor can the self-appointed commentariat ever hope to match the scope, rigour or vitality of journalism in building a better society. For it is not just in holding politicians to account that journalism has a profound influence, it also has the power to promote the public interest against political indifference and cowardice in areas from education to health and social welfare.
The drive to lower the number of unnecessary deaths caused by cervical cancer is a case in point. This newspaper fought that battle on two fronts; firstly through our campaign to pressurise former health minister Mary Harney to introduce the HPV vaccine for teenage girls. Secondly, we overcame with scientific facts and accurate information, the hysterical and scare-mongering, mainly internet-based, campaign which falsely attributed such grievous life-limiting side effects to the jab that take-up rates toppled to dangerously low levels.
As we know from the CervicalCheck scandal, cervical cancer is a hideous condition that can afflict young women, engulfing their families and little children in heartbreaking misery and loss. These stories of human grief coupled with journalism’s hammering home of the vaccine’s benefits, despite at times the deafening outcry of opposition, has happily seen inoculation rates rise again.
It is sobering to contemplate how had this vital area of women’s health been surrendered wholly to the Twitter mob, Irish women would be facing a far greater health crisis today.
But there are countless other ways journalism helps make society a better place. It presses for reforms that would never happen otherwise: it is a bulwark against ‘fake news’ and extremism; it shines a light on social ills that would never be highlighted by battalions of political spin doctors, corporate PRs or random bloggers. For all these reasons, now more than ever, Journalism Matters.