Judge Yvonne Murphy's report into sexual abuse of children by priests in the Dublin diocese over four decades reveals yet another layer in the heart of darkness at the centre of Irish society.

The cold descriptions of the repulsive actions of the deviant priests is stomach-churning. As bad, if not worse, was the immoral and arguably criminal decision of four successive archbishops and their auxiliaries to cover up the abuse carried out by paedophile priests, moving them on to new parishes where they were able to abuse with impunity once more. Not just that, their collusion with the other arms of state, including the gardaí, the political establishment and the health services, reveals corruption and lack of principle among the leaders of this country that was a betrayal not just of those who were abused, but of the entire country .

Many 'ordinary' people have been critical of the unnatural and corrosive links between church and state for years, their arguments generally dismissed as the dissent of the disaffected. The Murphy report, taken with the Ryan report, gives that belief the weight of evidence, the judge's rigorous and devastating analysis an appalling indictment of the warped priorities of a morally barren élite. The historic legacy of four archbishops, John Charles McQuaid, Dermot Ryan, Kevin McNamara and Desmond Connell is deservedly and irrevocably stained.

It shines a light not just on the deviance of the criminal priests, but also on the willingness of the ruling classes of this country to do anything , and to sacrifice anyone, to the maintenance of their institutions and power base. The fact that so many of the children who were abused came from poorer parishes and, in the unequal society that prevailed and still prevails, were therefore less likely to be believed, is just one telling aspect of the sordid history of the church in Ireland. To paraphrase, blessed are the weak, for they can be preyed upon with impunity.

Now, as it tries to recover even a shred of its former moral authority, the church still has many questions to answer and many a principled and difficult action to take. Archbishop Diarmuid Martin has rightly been praised for releasing the vital and very detailed 5,000 secret files of abuse held by the Dublin diocese. (The detail of this documentation is in itself another sickening reminder of just how much bishops and archbishops knew.) Dr Martin's sorrow is clearly genuine, and it did take courage to oppose Cardinal Desmond Connell, who fought him tooth-and-nail over the disclosure of the files to the Commission of Inquiry, dropping his challenge only at the 11th hour.

Cardinal Connell has apologised and other bishops have expressed their deep remorse. But real remorse means accepting the consequences of decisions, however long ago they were made. Not only did he and his colleagues do too little to help the victims of abuse, they lied to them and they tried to deflect them from their rightful pursuit of justice. They put other youngsters in peril by knowingly allowing paedophiles to remain in contact with children without alerting the authorities. Former victims Andrew Madden and Marie Collins have spoken powerfully of the effects of such behaviour. Dr Connell and the present bishop of Limerick Dr Donal Murray have particular questions to answer and they must resign.

The Murphy report describes how the structures of the church impede reform because each bishop is almost head of an independent republic. The argument is made that members of the hierarchy cannot intervene in other bishops' dioceses. Really? Right-thinking members of the hierarchy – such as Dr Diarmuid Martin – must show courage and openly support calls for resignations of all those named in the report for colluding in the cover-up. Otherwise, his apologies and promises of reform sound hollow.

Change is happening. The Dublin Diocese Child Protection Service under Ian Elliot has transformed the guidelines for dealing with suspected child abuse. Other organisations singled out by Judge Yvonne Murphy have also improved their child-protection procedures, with more specialist training, staff and facilities being recruited and built in both the HSE and the gardaí. In the light of the report, both organisations have promised to review procedures again to ensure that best practice is complied with. All, of course, at least a decade late, but it is encouraging nonetheless.

As much as politicians have expressed their disgust at the contents of the report and apologised for their own mistakes, those failings are massive indeed.

As far back as 1998, after the Ferns scandal, after Fr Brendan Smyth, after the first set of guidelines published by the bishops, then taoiseach Bertie Ahern announced that mandatory reporting of child sex abuse would be introduced within the lifetime of that government.

Last week, the minister for children, Barry Andrews, again made that same promise. To his credit, the legislation is almost ready to go to the Oireachtas, but the sins of omission are unjustifiable.

Those working with children in abusive families say a constitutional amendment enshrining equal rights for children is fundamental to their safety. Bertie Ahern announced one back in November 2006 as a pre-election feelgood factor which he could wrap around FF. A dizzying array of ministers, including Mary Hanafin, Mary Harney and Micheál Martin rattled off why it was so important. It is now parked in the cul de sac of Oireachtas committees and "highly complex issues" because it upsets too many vested interests.

This past year has seen the destruction of the once-powerful and trusted triumvirate of politicians, bankers and church. Each one has let us down, their collusion and deference to each other in different ways an absolute tragedy in our social and economic history.

Each one has promised to reform in the future but their actions undermine so much of what they say.

Indebted former Anglo Irish Bank boss David Drumm's decision to move property into his wife's name, coming after the AIB spat over top salaries and their blatant admission that Nama money will go to shore up their balance sheet before a penny is lent to business, is a sign of how humbled bankers really are. The political classes remain impervious and defensive of their own failings, resistant to reform of the electoral system and of their own featherbedded lifestyle.

The abuse survivor Marie Collins wonders whether the church really wants to reform or whether its newfound humility is just another strategy to maintain the status quo.

The same can be said of the banks whose trust with the communities they once served has been broken.

The same is true of the politicians whose promises to legislate, regulate and prosecute so that the law provides equity and justice are barely credible.

We shall wait and see.