Two weeks ago, I wrote in the weekly miscellany about the case of “Grace”, a young woman from the south of Ireland who had suffered grevious physical and sexual abuse in foster care and into whose case the Irish state had opened one of its legendary “enquiries”, all the way back in 2017.
The year is now 2024, and seven full years have elapsed since that enquiry was established. The most recent development is that those conducting the enquiry have asked for another six months to complete their work. You’ve probably forgotten, now, with all the time that has elapsed, but the “Grace” case brought the nation to a standstill seven years ago, with some of the most emotive discussions ever heard in the Oireachtas. “Never again”, was a common refrain.
One does not wish to pre-empt the outcome of any enquiry but, I think we can safely say, any situation where a child in the care of the state ends up being abused for a decade will not end up in an enquiry revealing that the state is blameless.
However, if long enough elapses between an enquiry beginning, and one concluding, several important things will have been accomplished.
First, the original scandal will have largely been forgotten. That is certainly the case when it comes to “Grace”.
Second, many of those involved will have retired. We cannot be certain in the case of “Grace”, but given that the events the enquiry is investigating took place ten to twenty years ago, we can fairly assume that some of those involved will have left their positions.
Third, the Government and Ministers will have changed. Even if the parties in Government remain the same, personnel will have swapped around, former Ministers may have left politics or retired to the back benches, and new brooms will have been safely installed. This is vital, as it allows politicians to blame others rather than themselves, and paint themselves just as outraged at the calamities inflicted by the state as you are.
Fourth, and most vitally of all, as public anger about the original scandal recedes, those involved who have not yet been named can become more assertive about their legal rights. Enquiries start to worry about defaming people, or even about naming them at all.
In the end, if enough time passes, we get the usual result: A properly delayed enquiry will conclude something along the lines that there were some systemic failures, from which important lessons have been drawn and learned. It will conclude that some people did fail in their duties, but that primary blame for this lies with managerial processes that did not identify complaints or escalate them quickly enough. If it’s very serious, we may get a vague statement along the lines of political leadership having been lacking. There will follow a round of serious tut-tutting and head-shaking, but ultimately, a properly delayed enquiry will not point the finger at any named individuals, and we can all move on with our lives.
I mention all this by way of very extended prologue because you may notice that, as yet, the Irish Covid enquiry has not commenced.
A cynic might note the date: It is now 2024, and a general election must be held within the year. We are already well past the date by which the Irish people might hope to have a verdict on the Government’s management of the crisis before the Government submits itself to the people for re-election. Convenient, that.
You might also note that many of those involved in the crisis have already left their particular posts. Simon Harris, acting health minister when the crisis began, is safely off in Higher Education. Tony Holohan, the only man since independence to have wielded apparently ultimate power in Ireland, is retired from his post as the country’s chief medic, and ensconced in new sinecures. There is every chance that, by the time an enquiry even commences hearings, a new Taoiseach and cabinet will be in place.
Most important of all, though, is the fact that already, public memory of the Covid crisis is fading. I’m writing this piece because by chance, yesterday, I was reminiscing with somebody who was entirely outraged during the second covid lockdown, and mentioned in passing the case of Dr. Holohan apparently giving orders to the Gardai via tweet to shut down partying on Dame Street. My friend, who I recall being lost for words at the time, had forgotten about the incident entirely.
If we assume that the Covid enquiry takes a similar length of time to that of the “Grace” enquiry, then we are looking at a report date of 2031, more than a decade after the events that it purports to report on. Even a more optimistic timeline of two years puts us five years beyond the events of 2020.
Call me a cynic, but I don’t think any of this is coincidental. You might also notice a distinct lack of enthusiasm in the media for a covid enquiry. I don’t think that’s coincidental either. I’m not entirely sure Claire Byrne wants us all recalling her frantic reports from her garden shed.
The biggest problem of all, though, with Irish enquiries, is that the tactics I am describing here work. I am fairly certain that, amongst those of you reading this, there are many like my friend from yesterday: The formerly outraged, and now apathetic. There’s nothing particularly wrong with that, so long as you realise that these are the tried and tested tactics of the Irish state, and they will continue in perpetuity, or until the public decides to put them to an end.
I’m betting on perpetuity, myself.