Having already created history in An Garda Síochána, Maurice McCabe is now about to do likewise in the history of whistleblowers.
The appointment of Sergeant McCabe to head up the traffic unit in Mullingar is an astonishing development in light of all that has transpired within the force over the last few years. Even more astonishing is the revelation he was offered a role in the Public Standards Unit of the force, but he opted to remain on the frontline of policing.
This type of elevation for a so-called whistleblower within a closed organisation is unique, possibly in the world. Traditionally, the whistleblower is either turfed out, eased out, or left to stew in his or her organisation.
Maurice Mc Cabe
In the first instance, the changes in the last year in An Garda Síochána should be acknowledged. Most of these changes are directly attributable to McCabe’s efforts to highlight wrongdoing, and the reaction to those efforts by both senior management and their political masters.
A minister for justice and a garda commissioner both resigned in response to the controversies around how they handled McCabe’s claims of wrongdoing.
A new system of police oversight, which is designed to remove politics from policing, is being set up. This garda authority will, for the first time, put a buffer between the minister of the day and senior garda management, though the devil may lurk in the detail.
The garda ombudsman, GSOC, has received major new powers to investigate wrongdoing in the force. Much of this is attributable to what McCabe exposed. The new powers include the capacity to investigate the commissioner, an issue that arose in one of McCabe’s complaints.
The penalty points system, designed to enhance road safety, has been overhauled to eliminate the capacity of senior officers to cancel points for colleagues, friends and family.
McCabe, along with former garda John Wilson, pursued this issue until it was addressed. After major changes were made, McCabe returned with further evidence last September that the abuse had not stopped. That also has now been largely dealt with.
John Wilson
There have been changes also in the element of human resources within the force. Last October, for the first time, a civilian was made head of human resources. John Barrett’s appointment came eight years after an expert committee first proposed that the appointment of a civilian would enhance the culture within the force, which had been criticised in the Morris Tribunal.
In the same vein, the force is currently going through a process, for the first time, in which every officer will receive training in bullying and harassment.
Dr Gerard McMahon, an expert in people management, has been retained to conduct a number of seminars at stations throughout the State to inform and educate every officer on bullying and harassment.
These changes in human resources management are again directly attributable to McCabe’s actions and experience.
Maurice with Enda Kenny
Since coming to public prominence last year, he was allegedly the subject of bullying in a number of instances in his Mullingar station. Prior to that, when his complaints were dealt with internally, he suffered severe harassment.
One incident, which is to be investigated by the Higgins Inquiry into McCabe allegations about criminal investigations, concerns apparent attempts to blame him for the disappearance of a computer suspected of containing child pornography.
The report on that incident will make for interesting, if not shocking, reading.
Even in light of all those outcomes, it would ordinarily be assumed that there was no future for McCabe in the force. So, how come he is bucking the trend?
Senior management, and their standard bearers in the media, would claim that it all points towards a new culture within the force. There may be some merit in this.
Commissioner Nóirín O’Sullivan has made all the right noises.
The human resources appointments and reform of the penalty points system were early initiatives in her tenure.
She certainly appears to be more cognisant of the requirement to drag elements of the force’s culture, kicking and screaming, into the 21st century.
She also has a political antenna. If, for instance, McCabe was sidelined, or forced to leave, she knows it would render a huge blow to the new image she is creating for the force.
Commissioner O’Sullivan didn’t land in the top job directly from Mars. She rose through the ranks over a 30-year career, making alliances and contacts.
She would be well aware some elements in the force are still smarting from having had their dirty linen washed in public. McCabe has been the subject of snide comments in the Garda Review, the magazine published by the Garda Representative Association.
Other elements continue to dispute the claims he made which led to the establishment of the Higgins Inquiry.
Commissioner O’Sullivan knows, though, that to succumb to those elements would be a retrograde step, both in terms of substance and image.
Another factor in the new dispensation may be the influence of a civilian at the top of a closed organisation.
However, if one is to locate the primary reason for McCabe breaking new ground in the aftermath of exposing wrongdoing, one need look no further than the man’s own character. He persevered for seven years in the wilderness pitted against the most powerful organ of state.
He protected himself by recording meetings, a tactic that was vindicated when there were later attempts to paint one meeting in a different light. He refused to throw in the towel, even after senior management tried to bury his claims in internal inquiries, later exposed as whitewashes.
When the internal inquiry into the penalty points failed to get to the nub of the matter, McCabe went to the Comptroller and Auditor General, and then the Public Accounts Committee, where he received a hearing.
If he was guided by a compulsion to do the right thing, then a stubborn streak ensured that he would not stop until the truth was dragged out into the public square.
That truth has been laid bare. And now it appears that he has stuck in there until he was allowed, in the best interests of the force, to return to what he loves doing best — policing.
These days, he reportedly loves getting up every morning to go to work, after a hiatus of seven years.
He was never about settling scores or pursuing a beef. In an interview with the Irish Examiner last December to coincide with his People of the Year Award, he spelt it out.
“Here’s the important thing,” he said. “I wanted reasonable standards applied. Not high standards. Just reasonable standards, so the public would get that at least.” Job done.
Michael Clifford