The existence of the Integrity Commission (IC), which has been the subject of searing attacks in recent times, isn’t a luxury.
Neither are other oversight bodies, such as the Financial Investigations Division (FID), which, too, will likely become a bogeyman for the political partisans if – as the IC recommends – it proceeds with deeper investigations into the finances of Prime Minister Andrew Holness.
Institutions like these are part of the national armoury for economic growth and national development. Put another way, the Integrity Commission and FID are critical ramparts against those who might be inclined to exploit their public office for private gain. Which is why they must be defended.
Jamaica, in common with many other emerging market economies, faces unique challenges which deepen these concerns. Over the last quarter century, it has seen an annual average GDP growth rate of less than two per cent. Per capita growth has been even lower. National productivity has declined.
While slow growth can appear to be a purely economic problem, its impact extends much further.
For when economies experience slow or weak growth for extended periods, the strain on government revenues often weakens the state’s capacity to fund essential institutions like the judiciary, law enforcement, and regulatory bodies. As these institutions erode, their ability to enforce laws and prevent corruption diminishes, creating a feedback loop of institutional decay and economic underperformance.
Indeed, there is ample research covering over 150 countries over the last 50 years, showing that periods of low growth are often accompanied by political instability and social atrophy, and unrest – conditions that further undermine trust in public institutions.
And as economic hardship exacerbates inequality, the competition for limited resources can lead to the proliferation of patronage networks, where political power is used for personal enrichment. When this happens, already fragile institutions can become conduits for corruption. In the circumstances, politicians may be inclined to prioritise short-term political gains over long-term national development and public officials perceive value, if not virtue, in exploiting their positions to gain access to state resources.
In other words, corruption can become a survival mechanism for both elites and ordinary citizens.
Jamaica provides an apt case study of the interplay between economic stagnation, austerity and a rise in corruption.
The long period of austerity and wage freeze in the public sector from the 1990s until recently threw up ample evidence of spiralling malfeasance in the public sector, as rules governing public and private interactions severely weakened.
In this environment, the evidence suggests, government officials demand bribes, sometimes implicitly, for the services they are paid by taxpayers to provide. Businesses may offer kickbacks to secure contracts. In this environment, the line between public duty and personal gain becomes increasingly blurred.
Unsurprisingly, opinion surveys consistently show that upwards of seven in 10 Jamaicans believe they live in a corrupt or highly corrupt country. Nearly half of the population doesn’t trust critical institutions of the state, like politicians and the legislature. Just shy of half of Jamaicans (46 per cent) said in 2021 they would support a military coup if its aim was to stamp out corruption.
Ultimately, corruption distorts markets, and leads to inefficiencies in public spending and, as the data highlight, severely threatens democracy.
It is against this backdrop that Jamaica has established institutions like the Integrity Commission and its predecessor bodies, including the Contractor General, which were subsumed into the new agency. The IC polices the award and implementation of government contracts as well as the wealth of legislators and some categories of public servants who, annually, have to file income, assets and liability statements with the commission.
But in its six years of operation, the IC has often faced hostility from people, across the political divide, over whose financial conduct it has oversight. This antagonism has grown especially bitter over the last 18 months since the commission’s clumsy handling of the report of an investigation into certain actions by Prime Minister Holness during the first half of the 2000s, when he was the education minister.
It caused the tabling of a report by the director of investigations recommending that Mr Holness be charged for breaking government procurement rules. But less than 24 hours later released a ruling by its director of corruption prosecutions that regulations covering how members of parliament should spend money allocated under the Constituency Development Fund (CDP) weren’t in place at the time of Mr Holness’ actions. The two should have been done together.
That foul-up was seized upon, particularly by government legislators, to campaign for a rolling back of the IC’s powers and independence, by bringing it under the direct control of politicians, in the guise of a parliamentary committee.
Additionally, the Speaker of the House, Juliet Holness, attempted to institute delays in the tabling of IC reports, wanting them to go first to an oversight committee. She relented in the face of a public outcry.
Last week, after the commission issued a report that was inconclusive on whether the prime minister engaged in illicit enrichment, and called on the FID to deepen the investigation, Mr Holness declared it to be “commonly agreed that the laws governing the IC are in need of urgent reform”.
Mr Holness didn’t say how he believes these reforms should look. Reform may be necessary, but not a weakening of the IC, its authority or its investigatory powers. If anything, those should be strengthened.