Alan Shatter's plight is not as significant as Sgt Maurice McCabe's, but it is a plight nonetheless. The former minister for justice is not an easy man to convey as a victim, his voice lingering somewhere between Anthony Hopkins' Lecter and Hal, the omniscient computer in 2001: A Space Odyssey.
In most professions, intelligent figures are considered geniuses and innovators. In politics, it translates as pompous know-it-all. Shatter lacks the sort of bucolic witticisms that propel Kerry folk on to front pages, and so his predicament is not easy to consume and give prominence to.
The unfair treatment of Alan Shatter isn’t difficult to comprehend, but it’s not so easy to frame without the jungle of reports and media coverage of the Garda whistleblower saga for context. The minister resigned after the Guerin report, an independent inquiry by barrister Seán Guerin, concluded he had ignored whistleblowers’ claims of Garda malpractice.
Later, the O’Higgins’s report, the result of a more powerful commission of investigation, demolished Guerin’s findings. It concluded that not only had Shatter taken the whistleblowers’ concerns very seriously, but that he had acted properly at all times and showed “personal concern” regarding their claims.
Jeopardy
Worse was to follow for Guerin when the Court of Appeal ruled the barrister had “breached the rules of natural justice” in his findings against Shatter. It said Guerin had put the minister’s constitutional rights in jeopardy. In short, the inquiry hadn’t given Shatter the chance to give his side. He had been hung, drawn and quartered without a right of reply.
It seems odd in retrospect that Guerin, an eminent senior counsel, did not interview Shatter before reaching adverse findings against him or allow him to reply to draft conclusions, but that is precisely what happened. Finally, the unjust conclusions were for the shredder.
However, the eventual clearing of Shatter’s name by O’Higgins did not suit the accepted public narrative of Shatter as enemy to whistleblowers and deserving of his fall from politics.
With a lack of sympathy among the media and opposition deputies looking the other way, the “Innocent Alan” twist in the tale didn’t grab the headlines quite the way “Nasty Alan” had. To give the story prominence would be to concede that everyone had got it wrong. Once the villain arc is established, not even commissions of inquiry and Courts of Appeal can overturn it.
It is remarkable that the tributaries of injustice that have flowed from the central stream of scandal concerning Garda whistleblowers has not cost the Taoiseach his job. Normally a single scandal was enough to topple the head of government, but a deluge has proven so overwhelming it has been converted into staying power. This is the real “New Politics” achieved by Enda Kenny.
The Shatter issue contains several areas of concern for him. Despite what we now know, the Taoiseach’s acceptance of the Guerin report findings remains uncorrected on the Dáil record. Worse still, Kenny’s department is pursuing a Supreme Court appeal to defend Guerin on taxpayers’ money. It seems difficult to justify when you consider the uncomfortable proximity of his department with the flawed inquiry.
Freedom of Information disclosures show that Guerin had been in irregular contact with the Department of the Taoiseach while compiling his report. He had copied the Taoiseach’s office in correspondence he exchanged with the Garda Síochána Ombudsman Commission (Gsoc), which refused to release documents citing legal concerns. Rather than provide Guerin an extension, the report was published without the Gsoc files. Fianna Fáil believes the Taoiseach let the report be “rushed” to force Shatter out in May 2014.
Deeply troubled
Fast-forward to February 2016 and copies of the draft O’Higgins report exonerating Shatter were sent confidentially to participants to give them a final chance to respond. The Taoiseach, losing control in a disastrous general election, would have been deeply troubled by what he read. Guerin’s report was about to be rubbished and he had commended it on the Dáil record. Shatter, a dogged and nuanced legal mind, would make for an uncomfortable figure on his backbenches where his future hung on every last vote.
Meanwhile, election observers believed Shatter was on course to be re-elected in Dublin Rathdown. Then, a last-minute letter from party headquarters was sent to 500 Fine Gael-leaning homes urging them to switch their number ones from Shatter to running mate Josepha Madigan. This late-hour strategy is common, but unusually in this case, it was not agreed with the candidates.
Madigan was elected, Shatter lost his seat and his political career was over. The letter may have caused some hurt, but he had also been damaged nationally by Guerin and locally by the closure of Stepaside Garda station. After 37 years in Fine Gael, Alan Shatter received no message of condolence from his party leader.
His unfortunate events are arguably just as important as the injustice shown to whistleblowers. It concerns the integrity of our system of inquiries, an institution we attribute near monotheistic abilities to achieve justice when common procedures appear inadequate. If we lose faith in the ultimate mechanism for uncovering the truth, the State’s soul faces perdition.