Jean-Marie Le Pens' success in the French presidential election seemed to waken our politicians up to the fact that we ordinary people are desperately worried about issues such as law and order.
Hard on the heels of this announcement came the news that those accused of Damilola Taylor's murder were found not guilty.
There is no shortage of examples to back up the belief that the law is soft on criminals and that anyone who dares stand up to them becomes the law-breaker, while the real criminal becomes the victim. The problem didn't bother me too much till I became a victim. My husband, Mike, and I had gone down town for about half an hour one Wednesday morning and during that short period thieves had climbed over our side gate and had broken in through a tiny window and stolen our video recorder.
On our return I noticed that the side gate was open but I thought nothing of it, assuming that we had forgotten to bolt it the previous evening when we'd taken the wheelie bin in. After a while I went in to the kitchen and, to my horror, I found that the glass panel in the door had been broken. Upstairs, drawers had been ransacked and from a wallet of foreign currency the French francs and German marks had been strewn about but the Irish punts had disappeared. This gave us a clue as to who might be involved. The back door had been smashed in, too. As I made a tour of the house, I felt myself growing angrier and angrier. Our builder came while the police were with us and he made the place temporarily secure.
Next day this youth came to the door, asking if he could do some gardening for us, and he said he'd do it free. I knew instantly that he was the thief and I felt like tearing him to pieces, or immersing him in scalding water or, better still, boiling oil. However, I had no proof, so I simply screamed at him to be off and then I rang the police. The builder recognised him as the same youth who had approached him the previous day and asked if he could stay and watch him work! Such audacity has to be experienced to be believed!
We knew he was trying to get at the television set which matched the video. We had probably disturbed the gang the previous day before they could complete their plundering.
From that moment I became a member of the flogging and hanging " brigade. I felt I wanted to string this creature upside down from the big tree next door and leave him there till the crows had pecked every inch of flesh from his bones. I wanted to make him pay for his crime and the price I was extracting in my imagination wasn't just the material value of the losses. I wanted revenge as well as compensation. My reaction horrified everyone who heard me, as I suggested other similar, gruesome punishments that might fit the crime. I was so beside myself with anger that I'd gladly have paid a vigilante to sort the wretch out. Why should this despicable drug addict be free to wreck the homes of hard-working, law-abiding people in order to finance his addiction? He had brazenly broken into the homes of 22 people nearby that morning. Of course, the handler of the stolen goods got away scot-free, while the youth was sentenced to a mere 18 months in prison and probably served only 6 months and didn't have to make any reparation to his victims.
We had to spend a considerable amount from our meagre savings to make our property more secure and we also had to pay excesses on the different insurance policies covering the losses and damage to property, while receiving no compensation for the stolen punts. The victim, not the criminal, pays the price! Since the burglary I have become quite paranoid about crime and I'm forever on the lookout for suspicious-looking individuals in the neighbourhood. In fact, Im becoming quite competent as a detective!
That is one side to the coin. In calling for the return of discipline we may forget that there was a time when the opposite was the case. The punishment was out of all proportion to the crime; even existing where there was no crime.
I started school at the age of 7 and each day my brother, Ted, and I left home at 7.30 a.m. to cycle two miles to the station where we left our bicycles before catching the train to Waterford city. Opposite the terminus was a wide bridge over the river, which we had to cross before walking along the quays and through a park to school. Sea-going ships sailed up the river and the bridge had to be raised to let them pass.
Opportunities thus existed for two unwilling school kids to gain some extra time off school. If Ted and I caught sight of a ship in the distance, we dawdled around the station so that the bridge would be raised and we couldn't cross! This would happen only on our way to school. We wouldn't dare miss the 3 p.m. train home but one day, to our horror, the bridge was up in the afternoon and we missed our train by a few seconds. We had to wait till 6 p.m. for the next train, hanging around the station talking to the rail workers. Would we be safe today doing that?
On arriving home after 7.30 p.m. we expected a welcome, a comforting hug, a kiss, a hot meal, a fuss made of us, a few words of reassurance. Instead, we were met with a stony silence apart from one sharp, angry command to go to bed at once and not utter a sound. There was no meal, not even a drink of water, no asking for an explanation, no loving welcome. What had we done wrong that merited such treatment? Luckily, I had Ted to console me and tell me it would pass, but next morning there was no breakfast, no lunch in our satchels, no homework to hand in. We were hungry and thirsty and fearful of what lay in store for us at school. Shortly after arriving in class Ted's teacher sent for me and asked why hadn't my brother done his homework, but Ted had primed me well to give the same explanation as his. Thus, he escaped further punishment.
I have never forgotten the misery of those two days. I could so easily have grown up thinking that if this was the reward for being a victim, I might as well afford myself the pleasure of committing some crime! This reminds me of another recent high-profile case, that of Stephen Downing, who this year was released after serving 27 years for a crime he didn't commit. How awful for him and his parents, especially as the real murderer may still be walking around that area! Many real criminals escape justice while the occasionally innocent people suffer unfairly. Surely the law needs changing!
Perhaps Ted's and my punishment was rough justice in that we had many times deliberately dawdled so that we'd gain extra time off school and had never been suspected! Our parents never smacked us but they certainly imposed great emotional suffering on us. The deprivation of food and drink was, I believe, worthy of condemnation in a parent. I can understand how worried they must have been when we hadn't arrived home at the usual time. However, they must have been aware of the possibility that we might have been caught on the wrong side of the bridge and they certainly would have known that there was a gap of three hours between trains.
To be fair, I think that I would have been frantic with worry had my daughter ever failed to turn up at the expected time without contacting me. We didn't have telephones in our home in 1935, so that is one big difference between the two situations. I would never, under any circumstances, have denied food and drink to my daughter. I wonder if, in those far-off days, children on their own faced the same dangers as today. Somehow, I think not and, to me, this makes my parents reaction all the more reprehensible.
Crime and Punishment go together like Darby and Joan, Punch and Judy, or gin and tonic. One follows the other and we don't put the cart before the horse. Tonic can exist without the gin, but punishment should never appear without the crime. On the other hand, crime should not be allowed to go unpunished. The pendulum tends to swing from one extreme to the other. It seems as if we can't get it just right, by making the punishment fit the crime!