Why is there so much fuss over the Serious Fraud Office's BAE Systems corruption investigation? If a few bungs means saving jobs, you might say, and over there they get good planes — and the guys at BAE didn't actually put the money into their pockets — then what's the problem?

If you have ever lived in a country where corruption is rife — I am currently residing in the Czech Republic — then you will know what corruption does.

It corrupts.

And this is hard for a country which is trying to recover, even after 20 years, from the total destruction of its society under communism, which had bribery and deceit at its core.

The acquisition of the 14 Gripen fighter jets at a cost of about £1 billion was already controversial when the ordering process began in the late 1990s.

Many locals argued that the Czech Republic, already in Nato and soon to join the EU, didn't need them at all.

One enterprising Czech company proposed taking their existing Russian Mig planes and completely reconditioning them to Nato operational standards at a fraction of the cost. But there are no “brown envelopes” in such a clever solution. Cash only swishes around the system when high-value, shiny new contracts are at stake.

The scramble to supply the Czech Republic with brand-new planes was merciless. A US ambassador had to threaten Prague with a rift in diplomatic relations if they didn't buy American F16s. And Tony Blair intervened to encourage purchase of Gripens — basically a Swedish plane with marketing by BAE.

The Gripen company's own promotional carrot was its “off-set” deal, which is that Gripen would stimulate economic activity to 130% of the contract price in whichever country bought its aircraft.

This programme is halfway through its schedule in the Czech Republic and Hungary, another Gripen customer, and has generally been a success. That has encouraged and financially kick-started companies mainly in the armaments industries to export, and linking them to long-term overseas buyers.

BAE's contribution would appear to have been more direct: to simply stuff cash in the pockets of the decision-makers, then the ruling Czech Social Democrat Party.

Milos Zeman, then Prime Minister, and his Minister of Finance, Ivo Svoboda, have already been named in Austria as recipients of BAE money. It was doled out by the dashing aristocratic middleman, Count Alfons Mensdorff-Pouilly, according to Austrian sources, under the umbrella of BAE's country manager in Prague, Steven Mead. The late Brigadier Timothy Landon, the super-rich and secretive White Sultan, so-called because he made a fortune from helping Oman, is said to have masterminded the whole operation.

There is no shame in the former communist countries. The public is completely used to being lied to, and its confidence in pretty much all politicians is zero.

A recent Czech prime minister was questioned as to how he managed to buy a luxury house on his ministerial salary when previously he had been a train driver. He said his grandfather had found the money in the attic. He was only caught out when at the same time as he was spinning his grandfather story, another businessman said he had loaned him the cash.

The same prime minister was also asked what his wife did in the nightclub (brothel) she had worked in. “She was only the cleaner,” was the answer the Czech public was asked to accept.

Almost without exception, people are in politics in a place like the Czech Republic to make money. They only hide the bribes to avoid tax.

But, just as the only way to stop drug addiction is to halt the supply of drugs, corruption can only disappear if no one is around with a bulky envelope to pass under the table. A local friend of mine needed a difficult permission from the town authority.

At a key meeting he noticed an official discreetly removing a package, wrapped in silver foil, from a briefcase. My pal assumed it was a bribe. For once, he was wrong: it really was a sandwich the official's wife had made for his lunch.

Stealing from a bank is arguably a crime that only hurts the bank — and, if the theft is big enough, its shareholders. But corruption is stealing from society at large.

If the Gripen fighters genuinely were not needed, and only voted for because of the tempting personal incentives, that means the loss of £1 billion which could have helped transform the dilapidated railways or improved the roads or refurbished hospitals in the rundown nation.

Within that £1 billion cost, of course, were the bribes and the kickbacks. Czech society is generally still childishly ignorant of commercial matters. That extra money had to come from somewhere, and it came on the price.

I am sure BAE kept careful accounts, even if they aren't very accessible at the moment. But it will only be a matter of time, probably, before one of the envelope-takers spills the beans. He (probably not she) will be delighted with the celebrity.

In fact, ex-Foreign Minister Jan Kavan did so inadvertently in a joint newspaper-television sting in 2006, which set off the current international investigation. In the face of growing overwhelming evidence (and a new government), the Czech anti-corruption police finally got going and as a start, Mensdorff-Pouilly was arrested in Austria earlier this year, the first of the “agents” in the Gripen deal's web.

There should be no mistake: the SFO in London is right to bring to light the murky underhand world that distorts important decisions and affects the pockets of millions of people.