Commission implicates George Pell

It is no surprise redacted chapters of the Royal Commission into Institutional Responses to Child Sexual Abuse, tabled in parliament and released on Thursday, are highly critical of Cardinal George Pell. How could they not be? After all, it was the criminal prosecutions against him, some based on allegations of sexual abuse in 1996 and 1997 when he was archbishop of Melbourne, that prevented the royal commission from revealing all the details relating to him when it reported in December 2017. In essence, the commission has rejected key portions of Cardinal Pell’s sworn evidence. It found that by 1973, Father Pell, as he was then, was aware of child abuse being committed by clergy and had considered measures to avoid situations that “might provoke gossip about it”.

More specifically, the commission accused Cardinal Pell of involvement in the 1982 movement from Ballarat to Sydney of serial pedophile Gerald Ridsdale, one of the world’s worst Catholic abusers; as a bishop, failing to recommend the removal of notorious abuser priest Peter Searson in 1989; and not doing enough to stop repeat offender and Christian Brother Ted Dowlan. “We are satisfied that in 1973 Father Pell turned his mind to the prudence of Ridsdale taking boys on overnight camps,” the commission found. But the commission rejected several other claims that were levelled at Cardinal Pell; it found it was unlikely he offered a bribe in 1993 to David Ridsdale, the nephew of the priest who offended hundreds of times against children from the 1960s to the 80s.

In an interview after being released from prison last month, following a unanimous High Court acquittal, Cardinal Pell said he did not expect a harsh verdict from the commission. He saw himself as “scapegoat” for the church’s failings. In a statement on Thursday, he said he “was surprised by some of the views of the royal commission about his actions” and that these views are “not supported by evidence”. To be clear, the standards of the commission are not the same as in criminal trials. In Ballarat at the time of the Ridsdale offending, Father Pell was a junior priest. As John Ferguson writes, the man most culpable for what happened in the diocese was corrupt and cavalier Ronald Mulkearns, the bishop who consigned hundreds of children to lives of misery. Yet it defies belief the larger-than-life cleric, who is proud of the 1996 Melbourne Response — the redress scheme for allegations of sexual abuse within the church — could have been so passive and clueless about what had been happening around him.

On these occasions, when the names of monstrous offenders are mentioned and painful memories are revived, we think of the victims of these crimes and their families. Their hurt is enduring and made worse when churches seek to dodge basic obligations. The royal commission, established in 2013, exposed the wicked neglect of once-trusted institutions, which should have been protecting children. Instead they, and the police, looked the other way. Or, worse, enabled the abuse to occur for decades. That is a stain on our collective history, with grief and rage everlasting. A divisive figure in our culture, though innocent of the sexual abuse that put him behind bars for 13 months, Cardinal Pell will remain entwined with the sins of the Catholic Church he once led and personified. As Ferguson writes, he “has escaped jail but his reputation is on bail”.