The brazen assassinations that took place in Dublin recently have shocked the country. An honest look at the root cause of the escalation of crime to this level might leave us even more shocked.
The situation in which we find ourselves is the fruit of a profound moral crisis.
And it doesn’t just touch the criminals. That robbery, murder and drug pushing are immoral is obvious. The whole of society is affected by this crisis.
Even among the majority who don’t steal and murder, the attitude towards sin and crime has softened over the years. This is a direct consequence of the loss of the sense of good and evil; right and wrong.
How did our society morph from one that had a strong sense of justice less than fifty years ago, to one in which the notions of good and evil, truth and error, right and wrong have been marginalised if not completely abandoned?
In the days of the legendary Garda Jim Brannigan (and no doubt, others like him) no one objected to his rough justice. And although we mightn’t want a return to his ways, few would deny that the streets of Dublin were a lot safer then than they are now – except for criminals.
Many factors have influenced this transformation.
Before political correctness became a popular term, liberal media and left wing politicians pushed hard for a more understanding approach towards criminals. Old fashioned ideas like punishment of crime were gradually replaced with so-called situational ethics.
Mitigating circumstances suggested leniency for lesser crimes. “The poor fellow! His father was a drunkard and used to beat him up… He lived in an area of high unemployment…” Etc.
But if mitigating circumstances excuse small theft, why not more serious crimes? Why not excuse burglary, mugging and more violent crimes in the same way? Where does it end?
Certainly not with murder, nor even terrorism! There is usually some apologist for the poor murderer, sympathising with his awful upbringing. Or for the jihadi who blows someone up, we have to take into account the terrible conditions and oppression that he suffered as a child.
And what about the victims? Is there no sympathy for them?
The softening of public opinion and the court system towards ever more serious crimes naturally encourages criminals to advance through the same stages to more and more serious crimes.
Of course not every shoplifter will get involved in organised crime or become a murderer. But there is little in the system, other than what is left of his own conscience, to stop him from going down that path.
Meanwhile, at the other end of the spectrum between sympathy and punishment, justice is getting squeezed out.
Murder is no longer a capital offence – not even the murder of a Garda. If the punishment for murder is diminished, then punishment for lesser crimes will inevitably also diminish. Eventually the whole concept of punishment for crime will wither away.
Even in the Church, once the guide of society in matters of good and evil, the hierarchy has failed to insist on the existence of the moral law and our obligation to obey it.
In part this failure is due to a loss of credibility as a consequence of scandals in the Church. But it is also due to a crisis of doctrine instigated by a large and progressive element within the hierarchy. It runs parallel to the crisis in society, and worse, it bears some responsibility for our social ills.
Instead of teaching right and wrong, a large proportion of the hierarchy prefers the famous formulation of Pope Francis: “Who am I to judge?”
For sure one robber can’t judge another robber to be bad. But he should judge robbery to be bad, and then take the appropriate steps to amend his life.
We cannot judge the state of another person’s soul. But we can and must judge actions. Otherwise how are we to decide what we should or shouldn’t do?
There is so much confusion around this distinction between judging people and judging actions that in last year’s debate on same-sex “marriage” many Catholics felt they should vote Yes as it would be judgemental and even hypocritical not to do so. And they got little proper guidance on the matter from the hierarchy.
Likewise Catholic politicians voted for abortion – the most extreme of violence inflicted on the most defenceless of victims – and once again without much opposition from the hierarchy.
All in the name of a more tolerant society!
A more appropriate question than “Who am I to judge?” – at least in the face of crime – would be: “Who am I to tolerate?”
Who are we to tolerate muggings, shoplifting, burglaries and other crimes, especially if we are not the victims?
It would be easy for us to forgive and forget if an elderly lady gets mugged and is left scarred for life, both emotionally and physically. But we don’t have a right to forgive it, unless we are the victim. We don’t have a right to tolerate it.
Who is a judge to dole out leniency instead of punishment for crime? It wasn’t him that was robbed or shot or left living in fear. Who is he to tolerate crime?
But alas, even the judiciary seem to have caught the “Who am I to judge?” fever, at least if the leniency with which criminals are so often treated is anything to go by. A judge is called a judge for a reason. His job is to judge. He is paid – highly paid – to judge.
What then is the solution?
One suggestion is to have more Gardaí, more armed Gardaí, or new armed units. Maybe. But most crimes happen in the absence of Gardaí. Civilians, not on-duty Gardaí, are normally the victims of crime.
Besides (and by way of exception to the above assertion) Dublin’s streets never had more armed Gardaí than in the wake of the Regency Hotel shootings, but that didn’t prevent the murder of Eddie Hutch. Armed Gardaí may indeed have a role to play. But it is a limited one, and is not without its own dangers.
It would certainly be an undesirable fruit of crime prevention if An Garda Síochána were to transmute, even partially, into a military force. Ultimately that could be a greater danger to society than the criminals themselves, as it would further wear away the delicate balance of powers that is necessary in a free society.
A Garda can no longer punch a criminal, like in the days of Jim Brannigan, but soon he will be able to rip you to shreds with his high powered machine gun if he considers you a threat.
Others tell us that it is more education that will solve the problem and end the crime spree. Once again, maybe it will help. But there are indications that education alone won’t put an end to crime.
For example, a news story from yesterday reported that the Gardaí found €8,400 worth of ecstasy powder in a car on route to supply students enjoying Rag Week in UCG. And that was just one car. And the drugs were destined for people who have already had a primary and secondary education.
Enough education, policing and armed policing to break the exchequer forever wouldn’t suffice to stop organised crime.
The only solution is a return to a moral order, to a society that has a strong sense of right and wrong – sufficiently strong to punish crime at its incipient stages, before it gets completely out of hand.
