Remembering Veronica Guerin

Séamus Dooley, NUJ assistant general secretary, recalls the life of Independent Newspapers chapel colleague Veronica Guerin, who was murdered 30 years ago today.

The memories are vivid.

The dingy, clickety-clackety, chattering newsroom engulfed in silence and in sorrow.

A piper's tune filling the poignant void. “Mna na ha Éireann” (Women of Ireland).

Sports journalist and uileann piper Seán Potts capturing the mood as the hardened ranks of NUJ members stand in tribute to our murdered friend Veronica Guerin, led by FoC (chair) Kevin Moore, himself a Sunday Independent colleague.

The eerie silence in the shadow of Dublin airport as crowds gather at the oratory awaiting the arrival of the funeral cortege.

The palpable grief of Veronica's husband Graham and the courage of her son Cathal, thrust into the limelight alongside his mother's shell-shocked family.

The pain etched on the face of Bernie Guerin, resolute, proud and defiant as she mourned the loss of her soccer-mad, fun-loving daughter.

The haunting lyrics of the hymn, "Be Not Afraid", a song Veronica had heard just weeks before at the funeral of IRA victim Garda Jerry McCabe.

Friday 26 June marks the 30^th anniversary of the murder of Veronica.

The investigative journalist was murdered in her car as she waited at traffic lights on the Naas dual carriageway near Newlands Cross on the outskirts of Dublin.

She was returning from a local court having been charged with a speeding offence, elated at escaping loss of her driving license.

The young, vibrant journalist was shot six times in a carefully targeted attack.

News of the murder stunned the nation.

Veronica had been the victim of gun attacks on two previous occasions. A freelance journalist working full-time with the Sunday Independent, she was one of the best-known reporters of her generation, bringing a brash, no-nonsense approach to crime reporting as she exposed the vast sums of money generated by drug overlords.

Born in July 1958 Veronica was a relatively late entrant to journalism having studied accountancy and working in PR and politics before breaking into the media, first with the Sunday Business Post and later with the now defunct Sunday Tribune. Her career was short but spectacular.

Joining the Sunday Independent in 1994 she used her knowledge of accountancy to explore the money behind the Irish criminal underworld, upsetting key figures as she did so with a style that was confident and confrontational.

In the competitive field of crime journalism she won grudging admiration but was also at times resented and the source of jealous criticism.

Veronica was brave and fearless and before her murder had been twice threatened by those she exposed.

First, in October 1994, when two shots were fired into her home after her story on murdered crime boss Martin Cahill, known as The General.

She wrote an incisive article on Gerry "The Monk" Hutch in January 1995. The day after publication a gunman appeared at her home, shooting her in the leg.

NUJ colleagues and friends feared for Guerin's safety but Veronica was determined to continue her work.

She resisted and resented offers of increased security, insisting that she did not want her ability to meet key contacts, including those in the criminal underground, compromised.

In September 1995 notorious crime figure John Gilligan attacked Guerin after she directly confronted him about his unexplained lavish lifestyle.

Gilligan later phoned her at home and threatened to kidnap and rape her son, and have her shot dead if she wrote anything about him. She pressed assault charges against Gilligan.

On the morning of 26 June 1996, Veronica appeared at Naas District Court on a speeding charge.

It has been established that as she left the courthouse she was under covert surveillance by a drugs gang member Russell Warren, who was in constant phone contact with both John Gilligan and Brian Meehan, giving updates on her location.

At around 12:55pm, Guerin stopped at a red traffic light. A motorbike with two passengers suddenly stopped beside her car, then the pillion passenger smashed her driver-side window with the butt of a handgun before opening fire six times. She died almost instantly.

Ironically Veronica Guerin was killed two days before she was due to speak at a Freedom Forum conference in London. The theme: ‘Dying to Tell the Story: Journalists at Risk’. 

As deputy FoC of the Independent Newspaper chapel, I recall having to ring the conference organisers after learning of her death.

I worked on the sub-editing desk of the Irish Independent and so had limited professional contact with Veronica but as a chapel officer met her from time to time. The last time we spoke she was involved in a dispute with the police representative association over media accreditation to the Garda Representative Association conference.

Long before home working became the norm, Veronica worked mainly out of the office and enjoyed a high degree of editorial independence. Although integrated into the staff she remained a freelance up to the time of her death, not by choice.

She was, literally and metaphorically, the face of the Sunday Independent, featuring in ad campaigns, yet had no employment rights despite the efforts of the NUJ.

Veronica often wrote about her criminal contacts and was open about her investigative activities. She had a rapport with readers and the wider public so news of her death sent shockwaves across the country.

The NUJ successfully appealed, via the Irish Congress of Trade Unions (ICTU), for a national moment's silence on 4 July. During work stoppages, the murder of Guerin and Garda Jerry McCabe was recalled. Traffic literally came to a halt.

Within a week of her murder, the government introduced the Proceeds of Crime Act and the Criminal Assets Bureau Act so that assets purchased with money obtained through crime could be seized by the government.

The formation of the Criminal Assets Bureau could be described as Veronica's legacy, marking as it did a new weapon in the war against crime.

The investigation into Veronica Guerin's death resulted in over 150 arrests and convictions, as well as seizures of drugs and arms.

Securing convictions for the well-planned murder proved difficult and many of those involved in executing the eradication of Veronica got off scot-free.

In 1997, while acting as a Garda witness, criminal Charles Bowden named Patrick "Dutchy" Holland in court as the man he supplied the gun to and suspected of shooting Guerin. Holland was never convicted and denied the accusation until his death in 2009 while imprisoned in the UK. 

John Gilligan left Ireland the day before Guerin was murdered. He was arrested 12 months later trying to board a flight for Amsterdam from the UK after a baggage search revealed $500,000 in cash. Claiming it was the proceeds of gambling, he was charged with money laundering.

After a three-year legal battle, he was extradited to Ireland in February 2000. Gilligan was tried and acquitted of Guerin's murder, but was later convicted of importing cannabis and sentenced to 20 years in prison.

In 1999, Brian Meehan, who drove the motorbike that carried the paid hitman, was convicted and sentenced to life in prison. Others suspected of carrying out the crime were never convicted. 

Veronica Guerin should not be defined by her death or by those who killed her.

She is remembered as a dogged, ambitious journalist but that's only part of the story. She is remembered for her loyalty to family and friends, as a fanatic sports fan, a political junkie, as someone who loved life.

Reeling back those days and weeks in the aftermath of her murder, I recall the solidarity of her Independent House colleagues and the wider NUJ family.

It was the first time all three editors of the ‘Indo’ titles had gathered together at a chapel meeting, standing shoulder-to-shoulder alongside Managing Director David Palmer, a stranger to union meetings.

I recall as a chapel officer the solidarity of colleagues from other newspapers and the leadership shown by Irish Secretary Eoin Ronayne, Organiser Patsy Dunne, and June, Joyce and Joanne at the Irish office, along with General Secretary John Foster and the Irish members of the National Executive Council (NEC).

At that time the NUJ were based in Liberty Hall and we took a decision to open books of condolences in the foyer. The late Tommy Dunne, premises manager, and his staff agreed to work late into the night to accommodate the vast queues lined up to express their sorrow.

On the day of Veronica's funeral we got a request to open Liberty Hall early to allow a visiting dignitary to sign the book. Václav Havel, president of the Czech Republic, asked that he visit the union office and not Independent House, Veronica's workplace.

When the Irish Executive Council (IEC) hosted the union’s Delegate Meeting in Ennis, Veronica's mother Bernie travelled to accept the hundreds of books of condolences and to take part in a panel discussion on media freedom and the right to report.

Bernie recalled how some people had referred to Veronica 'giving' her life for press freedom.

My daughter, she declared, did not give her life for press freedom.

It was taken from her. Journalists do not give up freedom to report - it is stolen from them!

Bernie also spoke of the horror inflicted by those who made money from drugs. Her daughter might have been a victim of their cruel trade but so too were the many families blighted by drugs, she reminded us.

On the 30^th anniversary of her death we will gather at Independent House to remember Veronica's legacy. Coincidentally the NEC meets today and will mark the anniversary.

We will remember Bernie's message at a time when media freedom in under threat and in a city where communities blighted by drugs have been failed by the state.

Veronic would have had lots to say.

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