This is what Justin Welby said to me about survivors of abuse

Christian broadcaster, Anne Atkins, writes:

There was a recent article in the Spectator entitled 'Welby’s Gatekeeper'. Most of it a pretty harmless romp through the career of David Porter, Lambeth Chief of Staff. 

But towards the end, the article turns nasty.  

Move to 2019, the scandal of John Smyth. You remember: the Evangelical QC who brutally beat young men, supposedly in the interests of holiness.

Now, our current Arch B of C had the extreme lapse of professional judgement to have exchanged Christmas cards with Smyth in his youth. Obviously, then, guilty as charged. Presumably for not knowing, in his early twenties, that the charming and successful much older Smyth was a bloodthirsty psychopathic. 

And being now too “reluctant and terrified” to face the victims. Obviously Canon David’s fault. Apparently the AB of C is in his pocket, and can’t see anyone without his say-so. 

(Talk among yourselves for a moment, would you, while I bang my head on my desk.) 

On the face of it, this is no more than shoddy and inaccurate journalism: an isolated, if vicious, instance of the writer taking shortcuts for dramatic effect. (One downright lie is that this enabled Smyth to continue abusing for four more years. If anyone can produce an instance of Smyth still abusing in his late-70s, I’ll eat this article.) 

Under the surface, though, something much more sinister is going on. Abuse happens. We on the sidelines are horrified. There are then three errors we can fall into. 

The first, of course, is not take it seriously: not be utterly appalled. I am told there are still idiots out there claiming Jonathan Fletcher didn’t do much wrong. Public School japes, you know. Oh sorry: were you Comprehensive? No, you wouldn’t understand. 

Fortunately I haven’t come across many of these: I’d push them into the nearest slurry pit, laughing maniacally – as they sink glugging beneath the deathly slime – that it’s just a harmless Oxford prank from my undergraduate days and they should man up. (For the avoidance of doubt: Jonathan Fletcher’s behaviour was wicked, damaging, sordid, scandalous, perverted and thoroughly sick and evil. I hope that’s cleared up now.) 

The second is to view him as a sub-human monster. No. Just a sinner, like us. Well, I hope not just like us. If so, I beg you to march yourself to the nearest police station, give yourself up and ask for help. But like us, he still needs friends, forgiveness, prayer. (Let’s leave punishment to others, shall we?) The saintly Long Longford modelled Christian acceptance in the face of appalling atrocity, and I am profoundly grateful for the few I know still persevering, beyond all encouragement. Helping him face his sins. Praying with him. (A close friend offered to stay friends with him… but she is a woman so he didn’t reply.) 

But there is a third tendency which seems far more insidious and ubiquitous. Which is to spread the blame. Logically, this is too crude to take most of us in: Justin Welby knew Smyth; Smyth did evil; ergo blame Justin for Smyth. (Er… no.) 

On an emotional level though, guilt by association is far more dangerous. The wrongs inflicted by Smyth were just beginning to be recognised when he died. This cruel frustration of justice caused numerous peripheral characters to be blamed as part of the story; part of the guilt. The same is now happening with Jonathan Fletcher: we don’t seem able to credit one man with so much vice, all on his own. 

So it must be Lambeth. Substitutionary Atonement. British Schooling. Emmanuel Church. Find fault with any or all if you must: but on their own merits. Don’t tar them with Jonathan’s brush. 

Why? Because this lets him off the hook. There is only one place to find the author of Jonathan’s sins, and that is with Jonathan himself. Of course cover-up, indifference, apathy are culpable. But they are not the quarry. 

So even if we didn’t know or do enough to stop him – I plead guilty – we didn’t commit the crimes. 

Back to the Speccie. Is it true, that Archbishop Justin doesn’t want to know? And David Porter won’t let him care? 

I can speak from experience here. 

Some years ago, we suffered devastating abuse from a church in Oxford. Eventually this reached the ears of the Archbishop. He invited us to Lambeth. No Chief of Staff in sight. 

He apologised most sincerely for the wrongs we had suffered. 

Then the conversation turned to Iwerne Holidays, where Smyth and Fletcher volunteered. He told us he had been implored not to let scandal damage the Gospel work there. 

“I care,” he said passionately, “for one thing, and one thing only. The victims.” 

As a victim, I believe him.