Child protection officials in Rotherham, England are facing worldwide scorn for saying that they did not report the sexual abuse of 1400 children because they feared being branded “racists.”
The child victims were horrifically molested and trafficked by men of Pakistani descent over a 16-year period. At the time, government officials knew about approximately a third of the abuse allegations … and did nothing (or impeded arrest and prosecution).
The news and subsequent fears of “racism” made by police, child protection officials, and other social service workers are appalling and disgusting.
Unfortunately, it’s not surprising.
For victims, the cry of “racism” is only the latest of a stream of obstacles that children face in seeking justice, accountability, and—in this case—rescue from gang rape and sex trafficking.
Child sex abuse is a crime of shame and secrecy. It is a crime of power. It is a crime of dominance. In the vast majority of cases, the children who are abused lack the ability or the words to describe what happened to them. They live in fear of their perpetrators, whom, they believe, will come after them and hurt them for telling. They are helpless, which is why child sex predators are often confident that they will never be caught or prosecuted.
And this is before children are betrayed by the system. The next hurdle they face is fear. Not their own fear, but the fear and cowardice of adults who should have reported the abuse.
We have seen this in the Catholic Church, where for decades, witnesses and church officials didn’t report abuse because they feared that the church would punish them or that they may besmirch the name of a “good priest.”
In the UK, victims of Jimmy Saville had to fight the now-dead man’s fame and the bastion of the BBC, who protected the legacy of a prolific predator instead of calling the police or reaching out to the hundreds of children television personality may have abused.
Then there is the scandal at Penn State, where child sex abuse victims were forced to confront three huge institutions: A university, a football program, and a coaching legend. All three of these institutions betrayed the children who were sexually molested by Jerry Sandusky. Anyone who stood up for the children ran the risk of “betraying Penn State Football.” And no one was brave enough to do it.
Child predators are smart and cunning. They put themselves into positions where they have limitless access to children. But they also make sure that they make a name for themselves in their communities. That way, child victims are less likely to report. Those who do are even less likely to be believed. It’s a part of the pattern called “grooming,” where a predator uses flattery, fear, manipulation, affection, and twisted logic to con children into becoming compliant victims and con communities into become welcoming supporters.
Did the predators in Rotherdam intentionally do or say something to make child protection officials believe they would be called racists for reporting? We don’t know. But we can assume they did everything possible to keep up the “racist” narrative once they learned of it.
These predators used fear to ensure that they got the implicit support of the people whose job it was to protect the child victims.
Men and women who molest children cause immense damage to our most precious resources: our children. The damage caused by cowardly men and women whose job it is to report abuse—but who are too scared because they fear being called names or hurting feelings—is immeasurable. They will never know or understand the extent of the pain and damage they have caused.
The bravery of one person 16 years ago could have saved 1399 children from abuse.
Being called a racist does not carry one iota of the pain of gang rape or violent sex trafficking. Cowardice must never be an option.