Monsters in Iwerne

No, I couldn't say nothing, could I?

When I was a boy, my parents would drive us several times a year in our ancient black Austin A6 to visit my grandparents who lived on the south coast.

Those days of course were before motorways and in-car entertainment. So my father would help the journey pass with the pub sign game, in which you take turns to spot the number of legs on the pub sign - thus the Red Lion in Sturminster Marshall would give you four, while the George at Norton St Philip with St George on his horse would give you six. However trumping them all was the Thousand Millipedes, which Dad assured us was down a side-road in Iwerne Minster. 

Iwerne Minster has hit the headlines recently as it was one of the locations where the serial child abuser John Smyth, QC and Church of England lay reader, used to operate in the 1970s and 80s - decades after our car journeys. Summer camps for public school boys were held in a prep school there. His other locations were near Winchester (where he established links with the famous public school), Zimbabwe and probably South Africa - until his death in 2018. His sadistic and perverted actions were first publically hinted at in an article in The Sunday Mail in 2012. But they were already known about to a limited number of Anglican churchmen as long ago as 1982. In 2017 the story broke on the Channel 4 News when Smyth himself was challenged by Kathy Newman about his activities. In 2021 Andrew Graystone published an account in his journalistic book, Bleeding for Jesus. 

In 2019 the Church of England's Archbishops' Council commissioned an independent review of the abuse and the involvement of what are termed "church officers". Five years later Keith Makin and Sarah Lawrence have produced their report. It is 263 pages long. It is exhaustive and not an easy read in either its content or its style. (It could have done with a bit more proof-reading.) Much to the media's glee, Archbishop Justin Welby, after a campaign of pressure, announced that he had tendered his resignation to the King. The hanging offence seems to have been that he had been "insufficiently curious" when "informed" of Mr Smyth's grotesquely sadistic activity in the late 70s and early 80s. As Andrew Brown the Guardian writer has shown - see my next post - this is not borne out by the facts.

Holman Hunt, The Scapegoat (Liverpool Art Gallery)

I tend to agree with the author of the Sunday Mail article, Anne Adkins, on Newsnight, that the Archbishop is being treated as a scapegoat, since  we always want someone to blame, but the abuser himself is now dead and beyond the reach of human justice.

In my next post I shall explain more of my reasons. However for now I shall quote the comments of the Rev Dr Sam Wells, vicar of St Martin-in-the-Fields, in a letter to his church. They seem to me both judicious and helpful: 

"To be subject to profound and repeated physical abuse at a vulnerable age is among the worst things to befall anyone. Those who have had the courage to come forward and detail their experiences at the hands of a distorted individual over a period of decades must be at the very centre of the church’s care and concern.

"While the individual responsible was not an employee of the Church of England, and the channels through which he worked were not under the authority of the Church of England, it was nonetheless right that the Archbishop of Canterbury commissioned Keith Makin to investigate whether there was anything the church could have done to have prevented these terrible crimes and what lessons could be learned. After five years, the Makin Review has concluded that the church could have done much better, and has pointed the finger at certain individuals in particular. The central issue is that the information came to light in 2013, but between then and his death at his own hand in 2018, the perpetrator abused several dozen more people – and it’s not clear how this was permitted to happen.

"Over recent decades the church, along with many organisations, has undergone a radical reappraisal of its procedures around safeguarding children and adults at risk of harm. This has been a huge institutional culture change. The simple principles of vigilance, reporting and safeguarding being everyone’s responsibility have made the church a much safer place. One result of that is that failures stand out painfully; and failure in relation to a case as grievous as this is something neither church nor society is able to countenance. The church has failed many individuals whose lives have been impacted beyond description. It puts in question the significant progress that has been made. And it undermines the church’s credibility all over again.

"It is this that has led to the news today of the resignation of the Archbishop of Canterbury, as a result of the words in the Makin Report that suggest that he, along with others, could have acted differently – and that if they had, many could have been saved from an unspeakable experience of harm. Leadership can be lonely; in today’s culture, when there is a very great wrong, there is a corresponding tide of demand that a leader visibly pay the price for an institution’s failings. It is tragic that a primacy bringing such profound good in so many areas, conducted by a person of singular faith, courage, humility and integrity, should end like this. But it seems the Archbishop has concluded that the unheard pleas of survivors, the degree of institutional failure, and the fact that his own role in the case was not impeccable, have together made it impossible for him to continue. His dignity and selflessness are an example to all of us."

(Post amended for accuracy 25th November 2024)