The Western calendar divides human history into BC (Before Christ), and AD (Anno Domini, medieval Latin for “the year of the lord”).
In the history of Queensland, there is pre-Fitzgerald and post-Fitzgerald, such is the impact Tony Fitzgerald’s eponymous inquiry into systemic corruption had in the state.
The 1989 Fitzgerald Inquiry exposed systemic corruption in the Queensland government and the state’s police force, resulted in the jailing of ministers and the police commissioner, and brought to an end 32 years of conservative rule in the state.
Among the reforms introduced at the behest of Fitzgerald Inquiry recommendations was the establishment of the Criminal Justice Commission in 1989, which morphed into the Crime and Corruption Commission.
But the role of the CCC, Queensland’s corruption watchdog, has come under increased scrutiny of late.
It has brought criminal charges against councillors, only to have cases thrown out of court, and has been accused of straying too far from Fitzgerald’s original intent.
Just last week, chairman Alan MacSporran fell on his sword as controversy continued to swirl around the watchdog.
So, on Monday, Premier Annastacia Palaszczuk announced a commission of inquiry would be held into the CCC and be headed by none other than Fitzgerald himself.
In effect, Fitzgerald, now 80, has been tasked with investigating the body his inquiry gave birth to.
The circle of life.
The selection of Fitzgerald lurches the retired corruption buster back into the Queensland political spotlight, but not for the first time since his transformative inquiry.
More than a decade ago, Fitzgerald warned Queensland was slipping back into its “dark past” of cronyism and secrecy.
Speaking in 2009 to mark the 20th anniversary of his report, which was so damaging to the National Party, Fitzgerald took the opportunity to criticise the ethics of the Beattie and Bligh Labor governments.
“Access can now be purchased, patronage is dispensed, mates and supporters are appointed and retired politicians exploit their connections to obtain ‘success fees’ for deals between business and government,” he told a Griffith University audience in July 2009.
Fitzgerald made another brief foray into Queensland politics during the Newman government years, criticising the 2014 appointment of Tim Carmody as Chief Justice.
Since then, he did little to hide his disdain for politics, and politicians, in the Sunshine State.
“They’re all just self-interested politicians and I’ve sought refuge from them in a zone of total indifference,” he told this masthead in 2016, in response to Labor’s reintroduction of compulsory preferential voting.
After accepting the role on Monday, Fitzgerald told this masthead: “I was asked to do it and couldn’t see any good reason to refuse.”
He then indicated he would not offer any further public comments, at least for now.
As Palaszczuk announced Fitzgerald’s appointment, her government was facing integrity issues of its own.
Last week, Integrity Commissioner Nikola Stepanov resigned just months after she complained of interference of her office, which was responsible maintaining the state’s lobbying register.
It was the influence of lobbyists, remember, that prompted Fitzgerald’s 2009 criticisms of the Beattie and Bligh governments.
In recent days, the state opposition has called for a “Fitzgerald 2.0” investigation into a range of integrity issues plaguing the Palaszczuk government.
They got at least half their wish.
It may be a “Fitzgerald 2.0” in name, but not in nature. The renowned QC’s brief here is limited.
Fitzgerald’s terms of reference include a review of the CCC’s investigatory and charging structure, and the role of police officers seconded to the CCC.
Ultimately, there is no better shorthand for fighting corruption in Queensland than the word “Fitzgerald”. It’s a headline-grabber, for sure, and a circuit-breaker for a government keen to draw a line through any talk of integrity scandals.
But Fitzgerald 2.0 it is not.