Our great institutions must not be pulled down in the hunt for sex abusers
Individuals have to be punished but archbishops can’t be blamed for the values of yesteryear
George Carey was Archbishop of Canterbury from 1991 to 2002. A modernising evangelical, he could be tactless in his desire to “get results”. But he was conscientious, moral and zealous. No one ever accused him of bad conduct, let alone iniquity. Yet, since last month, he is not even allowed to celebrate holy communion.
On June 25, a report by Dame Moira Gibb was published. Entitled An Abuse of Faith, it investigated how the Church of England had dealt with Peter Ball, formerly Bishop of Gloucester. Ball was, unusually for the Church of England, a monk as well as a priest. He was lauded by thousands, including the Prince of Wales, Robert Runcie (Lord Carey’s predecessor at Canterbury), judges, Cabinet ministers and many with whom he had worked directly, as a very holy man.
Some felt dubious, however, about the nature of Ball’s supposed spiritual practices. Some had suffered from them directly. A young man called Neil Todd complained that they involved nakedness and cold showers in Ball’s presence, a proposal by Ball that he (Ball) should whip him, and actual sexual activity. In November 1992, Todd attempted suicide. There were stories against Ball concerning other young men. In 1993, after much wriggling, Ball reluctantly accepted a police caution for gross indecency and resigned his position, though not his orders.
In the years that followed, Peter Ball gradually, cunningly, re-established some of his reputation and some of his freedom to minister in various ways.
Much later, however – long after Lord Carey’s retirement – Ball was driven out of all ministry by renewed accusations. The police became involved once more. On hearing that Ball was being looked at afresh, Todd killed himself. In 2015, Ball admitted two charges of indecent assault and one of misconduct in public office. He served 15 months in prison. He is still alive. In Who’s Who (where all entries are written by the person concerned), he remains “Right Reverend”, and nothing bad is mentioned. No one knows the truth of all the accusations, but there seems no doubt that he did evil, damaging many lives.
In their report, Dame Moira’s team find fault with many involved in the Ball story, but the most prominent is Lord Carey. They were “unable to find any good reason” why he did not make the police aware of six out of seven letters Lambeth Palace had received from various people which had “raised concern” about Ball. It criticises him for writing to the Chief Constable of Gloucestershire before the caution, saying how many good testimonials about Ball he had received from young men, and suggesting that accusations against him were “unrepresentative”.
The report also attacks Lord Carey for how he behaved after Ball’s caution. The weirdest part of the saga is that Peter Ball has an identical twin, Michael, who was also a diocesan bishop. (There were even social occasions on which Michael permitted the disgraced Peter to pretend to be him in his official capacity.) The Ball brothers exercised their considerable contacts and manipulative charm to get Peter rehabilitated. Often, though by no means always, Carey gave in to this. He did not put Peter Ball on what was called the “Lambeth List” of clergy involved in discreditable conduct, one of several mistakes for which he has apologised.
Dame Moira’s report is thorough. From the evidence she produces, no one could think that Lord Carey behaved astutely. But although she acknowledges that the culture was different a quarter of a century ago, her assessments belie this. She writes judgmentally, exhibiting what is called “historical imperialism”.
In the early 1990s, someone receiving private letters about young men allegedly abused would not normally have passed them on to the police: he would have seen it as a breach of confidence. Parents were often the last people to want their children forced to appear in court. Similarly, Dame Moira does not attach enough weight to the fact that both the police and the Crown Prosecution Service were happy to settle for a caution, which would not happen today. If they felt that way, why would the Archbishop – who, like most of his colleagues – had always believed in Ball’s holiness, have been fiercer?
It was also common in those days to believe that sexual abuse could sometimes be corrected in a new setting. In the Ball case, there were discussions with Archbishop Desmond Tutu that perhaps Ball could minister in South Africa. Nowadays, abusers are considered incorrigible and woe betide anyone who suggests otherwise. Perhaps in another 25 years, fashion will shift against the current absoluteness. Reports will investigate today’s reports and declare them rigid and inhuman. Who knows, even the Christian idea of forgiveness might make a comeback.
Finally, Dame Moira’s report does not properly recognise the state of knowledge – as opposed to rumour – at the key time. It was only two years ago that appalling things were finally proved against Ball. This was not so in 1992-3, though shrewder men than George Carey had strong suspicions. At that time, there was an innocence about the nature of such behaviour, which was bad; and also a presumption that someone was not guilty just because someone else said he was, which was good. Lord Carey suspected that Ball had been unjustly accused. Obviously, this belief affected his actions. He was gravely mistaken, but in many cases since –Lord Bramall, Lord Brittan, a subsequent Bishop of Gloucester Michael Perham and also, I argue, the late Bishop George Bell of Chichester – we have seen the high cost of uncritically believing unsubstantiated accusations.
As the Gibb report appeared, the present Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby, immediately said that the Church had “colluded and concealed” in the case of Ball. In private, he wrote to Lord Carey to demand his resignation as assistant bishop in the Diocese of Oxford. Lord Carey had no choice but to give it. A man who has been a faithful priest for 55 years is now forbidden from performing any priestly function.
“Colluded” and “concealed” are very strong words. They describe not bad judgment, but iniquity. Even Dame Moira, though she uses them, inserts qualifications. Archbishop Welby does not. Does he truly think that Lord Carey committed iniquity?
One must sympathise with the Archbishop’s plight. Over everything to do with sexual abuse, he has inherited a shameful muddle, which has caused suffering to victims and grave impediment to the proper work of the Church. He has more courage than most bishops in facing it. But two thoughts occur. The first is that if current Archbishop destroys former Archbishop, he does not rebuild the Church. He encourages in the minds of its numerous enemies the idea that if one leader of integrity can be disgraced, so can another. He also raises in the minds of serving (and retired) priests and bishops a fear. If they are accused, they will not get the benefit of the doubt from their own institution. Even if innocent, they will be appallingly on their own.
The second is that this is not just a Church problem. We desperately need strong institutions which serve others – Army, police, judges, teachers, doctors, priests, Parliament. We are rightly learning the horrors caused by institutions which blindly defend their own. What about the horrors of those which blindly don’t?