CHICAGO (IL)
Chicago Tribune
May 26, 2023
By David G. Clohessy
The stunning report on Catholic child sex crimes and cover-ups just released by Illinois Attorney General Kwame Raoul is chock full of numbers.
It says that at least 1,997 girls and boys across the state have been sexually violated by Catholic clergy, often repeatedly.
It identifies 451 proven, admitted or credibly accused predator priests who are or were in ministry in Illinois.
It names 160 religious order clerics who are or were here, “have been substantiated by Catholic sources as abusers, but have not been disclosed as such by the Illinois dioceses.”
But perhaps the most disturbing number appears nowhere in the 696-page document. Zero. That’s the number of clerics who committed or concealed heinous crimes against kids and whom Raoul says in his report he now plans to prosecute.
Let that sink in: At least 451 child predators assaulting nearly 2,000 boys and girls, sometimes dozens or even hundreds of times. A conservative estimate is that dozens, if not hundreds, of the abusers’ supervisors and colleagues who knew or suspected kids were being molested and ignored or concealed these horrors.
This suggests two possibilities.
Either virtually every Illinois prosecutor in the state is lazy, inept or cowers before the Catholic hierarchy — which can’t be true.
Or virtually every Illinois prosecutor is handcuffed by archaic, predator-friendly state laws that make criminally pursuing those who commit or conceal child sex crimes very tough —which sadly is true in a number of states.
Clearly, this grave injustice — and the resulting risks to public safety — cries out for legislative remedies, especially since church officials have proven that they cannot or will not police themselves.
Possibilities include extending or eliminating the civil and criminal statute of limitations, toughening (and using) state RICO laws and beefing up mandatory reporting requirements. The options are vast. The political will, however, seems to be lacking, at least in some jurisdictions.
But a West Virginia attorney general sued a diocese and former bishop for not protecting children from predator priests and teachers — and violating consumer protection laws by falsely advertising a safe environment at Catholic schools and camps.
New York’s attorney general filed a civil suit again a diocese for allegedly covering up systemic child sexual abuse. Her rationale: While a national church policy purportedly mandates prompt investigations of child sex abuse reports and disclosure of the results, two bishops “lied publicly” and “buried the evidence of abuse by priests,” the Times-Union reported in 2020.
A New Hampshire attorney general’s investigation forced the Manchester diocese to disclose 9,000 pages of abuse related records. Church officials agreed to tighten the way they monitored and reported abusers and five years of unprecedented state oversight of diocesan abuse dealings, including annual audits of their personnel records.
Could Raoul have used any of these legal maneuvers here? I’m no attorney; I have no idea. But I do know, based on three decades of intense involvement in this issue, that “where there’s a will, there’s a way.”
Raoul’s job, according to his website is to “advocate on behalf of all of the people of Illinois” and “legislate with members of the General Assembly for new laws.”But he didn’t advocate the passage of a single potential legislative remedy.
Instead, in his report, the attorney general (a former lawmaker himself) devoted almost 50 pages to what must be considered a fool’s errand: suggesting ways the church hierarchy might improve its handling of abuse reports.
For instance, Raoul makes the vague recommendation that bishops should “improve child sex abuse allegation intake procedures” and ensure that such staff are “adequately trained.” But prelates have been dealing with abuse reports for ages and have specifically had such personnel in place for at least two decades. If in 2023, these employees are inadequately prepared for these sensitive positions, it’s likely not because a bishop has never given training a thought.
Besides, this recommendation, like the rest offered by the attorney general, is unenforceable.
Don’t misunderstand me: his proposals are all sound, simple common sense steps. But they’re ones any leaders genuinely concerned about kids’ safety would have voluntarily adopted long ago. And they’re nearly all recommendations that we in Survivors Network of those Abused by Priests (SNAP ) have fruitlessly spent years patiently prodding prelates to enact.
If Illinois officials are serious about stopping the cover-ups and preventing the crimes, they’ll work less at trying to persuade the six largely intransigent church leaders who run the state’s dioceses. They’ll work more on finding and making tools that can force recalcitrant church officials to do what they refuse to do.
In other words, reform advocates have dangled carrots before and gently coaxed bishops toward change for ages. It’s time that those bishops face the stick.
The time to give the Catholic hierarchy more time to clean house has long passed. It’s time for lawmakers to do their first duty: protect the safety of Illinois’ most vulnerable citizens, its children. It’s time for the state law enforcement authorities to push harder and try novel approaches. And’s time for governmental leaders to draft and adopt reforms that will help make this happen.
David Clohessy is a clergy abuse survivor and was director of the Survivors Network of those Abused by Priests (SNAP) for more than 30 years.