John Crown (Independent)

One might say that I speak as both an insider and outsider in terms of the political process. Like my colleague, Senator Rónán Mullen, I am an Independent Member and not associated with any political party. I have come in middle age to this part of my career with an outsider's perspective, which is the position from which I will make certain observations. The reality is that there is a perception, whether correct or not, that the practice of politics in this country is and has been for a long time somewhat corrupt, which is why the outbreak of rectitude and umbrage we are seeing in the wake of the various tribunal reports is being greeted somewhat sceptically by many of our fellow citizens. Most people would acknowledge that individual politicians are, with clear exceptions, not corrupt. However, there is a tolerance within the system of the notion of corruption. I have landed myself in trouble with certain party loyalists from different organisations for making this point. The response is always that they themselves are not corrupt and would never tolerate corruption and to question how I should dare to accuse them and the many hundreds of thousands of people who voted for them of being tolerant of corruption.

The reality, of course, is that this tolerance is buried deep in our political culture. There is a Sicilian expression, mafiositá , which refers to those who, although not associated with the Mafia themselves, understand its place in Sicilian society and have a certain grudging acceptance of the role it plays in oiling the wheels of that society. We had our own version of mafiositá in this country. For many years, individuals who were themselves beyond reproach in terms of their personal conduct and financial probity made a relative value system judgment that a certain amount of corruption on the part of politicians was acceptable because they had a higher loyalty - whether to party, to Civil War values or to their idea of what constituted patriotism or order - or a distaste for the other major party, which led them to the view that although so and so might be somewhat corrupt, he is still "our guy" and, on balance, he has it right. As a medical student and young doctor, I often heard this said about a certain politician who shall remain nameless. As it was famously said, the dogs in the street knew this person's conduct of his private financial affairs was not beyond reproach, yet he remained untouched for many years. One frequently encountered the attitude that he was certainly a crook but then a crook was just what we needed. That was a view one commonly encountered in the 1970s, 1980s and through to the 1990s.

Why did this type of tolerance persist for so long in this country? Although Fianna Fáil is taking the bulk of the criticism in this regard, I do not accept that the average member of that party is any more or less intrinsically ethical or moral than the average member of the Fine Gael or Labour parties. The mere fact that Fianna Fail, because of an unusual demographic factor that arose in the aftermath of the second election following the Civil War, had a near permanent slight plurality of support meant that, on average, its members were in power more often than not. Lord Acton was absolutely correct in observing that power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Therein likes the bulk of the explanation for why the type of behaviour we are discussing took place more often on Fianna Fáil's watch than on anybody else's. I suspect that if another party had been in power for 11 out of every 15 years, or whatever the arithmetic is, there would be a certain number of bleached bones lying in the political desert, the bones of those who had to step down as a result of various scandals. That is the very nature of being in power unchallenged for too long. Having said that, there are other factors to consider. For example, there is little to choose in terms of fundamental values and policies between the two major parties historically. That, together with a Whip system and a heavily incentivised parochialism in the way we select our politicians, meant it was easy to think of reasons to turn a blind eye to a certain level of corruption.

Where have all of these revelations left us? In a practical sense we have spent some €300 million on the Mahon tribunal and God knows how much on the other tribunals. When I first returned to Ireland the major scandal was the €30 million cost of the beef tribunal. At the time I was seeking approval for a drug called Taxol for ovarian and breast cancer patients but met with serious reservations from Government on the grounds of cost. I made the point at the time, in those naive days, that the total bill for the beef tribunal would have met the cost of supplying the drug to every patient who needed it for five years. I was contacted by the producers of "Liveline" today, which has had a succession of patients calling in to say they cannot obtain a particular drug for the treatment of malignant melanoma. This is a drug whose cost to the Exchequer could probably be halved simply by way of a proper bulk purchasing strategy by the Health Service Executive and the Department of Health. It could be made available to every patient who needs it at a total cost of €5 million. However, we apparently cannot find €5 million for patients suffering a cancer which without treatment is invariably fatal, but we can spend €300 million on a tribunal. What does that tell us about the way we do public life in this country?

As I said, I am speaking as something of an outsider in making my observations. I am sure some Members are wondering who the hell is this guy - I am not sure whether I am permitted to use that word in the Chamber - to say what I am about to say. It looks to me and to many of those looking at it from the outside that the tribunals were set up primarily to fail. Consider the whole process in terms of how they were gunged up for so long, how it was possible for people to give evidence that was economical with the truth, how there have been so few prosecutions and how they gobbled up so much money. One wonders whether we should have a dedicated police unit that investigates suspected crime. Should we not have a prosecution service that is politically independent and which, when there is evidence staring it in the face that something is wrong, can go ahead and investigate it? Must we instead have this great panacea whereby we cannot comment on, discuss or legislate in response to certain matters because they are before a tribunal which may not produce any findings for 13 years and will cost hundreds of millions of euro? An independent detective unit within the Garda could have dealt with some of these issues straight away. A district attorney model might have taken up the cudgel of investigating and potentially prosecuting people a decade ago, with consequent vast savings for the Exchequer and benefits for the credibility of the political system.

I am pleased that the system has finally brought forth an outcome. The value of the result it produces, when set against the opportunity cost of the money that is gone and the reputational damage to Irish democracy, is probably questionable. I hope people will examine the report carefully and take on board the larger lessons rather than indulging in cross-aisle finger pointing.