OPINION: IT’S THAT “if” word again. Irish Catholic
bishops and archbishops have been finding it so very helpful in recent
years when expressing personal sorrow for what others have perceived as
wrongs on their part.
Such a delightfully useful word. It creates
just the right amount of wriggle-room to allow a putatively penitent
prelate allow an outside perception of deepest repentance while not
really feeling such a thing at all.
You could say the small “if”
word, with such a big meaning, comes from the same stable as that
thoroughbred “mental reservation”, of which there is none better when
conveying a false impression – truthfully.
And so, little “if”
popped up when the former bishop of Cloyne John Magee spoke to RTÉ on
Monday.
“To the victims I say I am truly horrified by the abuse they
suffered – it is very clear to me when I read the complete report – and
if through my not fully implementing the 1996 guidelines which we had, I
have made any victim suffer more, on my bended knee, I beg forgiveness,
I am sorry.”
The extravagance of the language (how Italianate!)
should not distract from the place of little “if” in the scheme of
things. Or that of the equally useful “fully” term.
The Dublin
archdiocese liked the “fully” word too.
In explaining how it could say
in a mid-1990s statement it had co-operated with gardaí in dealing with
allegations of clerical child sex abuse cases, while at the same time
retaining files not handed over to gardaí, the Dublin archdiocese
pointed out it had not said it co-operated “fully” with gardaí.
This was
also presented to the Murphy commission as an example of mental
reservation in all its glory.
Recall that the Cloyne report found
Magee “took little or no active interest” in the management of clerical
child sexual abuse cases until 2008, 12 years after the framework
document on child sexual abuse was agreed by the Irish Bishops’
Conference.
There are no “ifs” about that. It was “little or no” interest.
And Magee was similarly athletic with his use of language in the statement he issued on Monday.
He
accepted “full responsibility for the failure of the diocese to
effectively manage allegations on child sexual abuse”. He unreservedly
apologised “to all those who suffered additional hurt because of the
flawed implementation of the church procedures, for which I take full
responsibility”.
This would suggest he was taking on board such
responsibility because of his role as bishop rather than through any
direct personal fault of his own.
And that “fully” word appears
again. He let the victims down “by not FULLY [my capitals] implementing
the guidelines which were available to me” and he apologised “to the
people of the diocese for not managing this important work more
effectively”.
It is difficult not to agree with the Cloyne woman,
herself abused by a priest, who told my colleague Barry Roche last
Monday she was sceptical over Magee’s expression of remorse, saying she
had heard so many apologies from the bishop and other clergy in Cloyne
that she questioned their value.
“Anyway, whatever he does now can’t
undo what was done to us.
We can all be sorry after the fact – he can
say sorry as much as he wants, but it isn’t going to change what
happened to me or to the other girls who were abused,” she said.
Wise
words.
Indeed, it is hard not to concur with Magee himself when he
said on Monday, “I feel there is nothing I can say now, which will ease
the pain and distress for victims.” There isn’t.
The problem
Magee and other senior clergy face is that they have devalued language.
They have rendered words of sorrow and remorse redundant through
repeated abuse.
They have done as did Humpty Dumpty in Through the
Looking Glass.
“When I use a word,” he said, in rather a scornful tone,
“it means just what I choose it to mean – neither more nor less.”
The
question was, said Alice, “whether you can make words mean so many
different things.”
He knew better.
“The question is,” he said, “which is
to be master – that’s all.”
The bishops and archbishops might also reflect on what became of Humpty Dumpty.