Church silence that hid 'kernel of evil' at Maynooth

For nearly 10 years St Patrick's College in Maynooth, the Catholic Church'snational centre for training priests, was run by a man repeatedly accused ofsexually harassing young men there. Patsy McGarry, who has been uncovering the scandal, describes how the church authorities failed to act

The stories emerging about the national seminary at St Patrick's College Maynooth do not paint a pretty picture. They are disturbing in what they reveal of a corporate clerical culture that appears every bit as ruthless in its own self-interest as any institution found in the secular world.

Except that in this instance the ruthlessness is executed under the guise of higher motive. It also indicates a sophistication in dealing with nuisance that was assuredly not acquired overnight. Indeed one has to wonder at the implicit cynicism and flair required.

It would be wrong to say those now whistleblowing about what was really going on at Maynooth are doing so out of a sense of revenge. They are definitely people who have been hurt.

As one man said, he felt he too was a victim of clerical abuse and could identify fully with others who had suffered that fate. But he remains a lover of his church and a deeply spiritual man. He is inspired above all by a concern for honesty and truth.

He is that most uncomfortable creature in any institution - a person of conscience. For him also that way healing lies. That he has had to live for decades having had his good name traduced, either directly or by implication, remains a continuing source of pain for him. He has coped, he said, "by spiritualising it".

Another man, a priest, said he has been waiting 20 years for the truth about Maynooth to come out. He is forthright. He believes that if he could have spent his priesthood "wheelbarrowing Maynooth away it would be a great service to the church".

He described the atmosphere at the college as "poisonous". It had "a kernel of evil - it is the only word I can use for it. It was not good, not truth, the whole spirit of the place," he said. "And all done in the name of the gospels," he commented, observing that "power and ambition are great evils."

A third man, a former priest, is generally more sanguine. Though he too is anxious to have good names cleared, and for the truth to come out. But with a family and his career there is a sense in which his life has moved on. However, he too wants it to be known that he was a good priest and that there was a reason why he was posted as a young curate to one of the most isolated and desolate places in Ireland.

While senior students, these men, six in all, attempted to have something done about former college president Mgr Micheál Ledwith's behaviour towards junior seminarians there. They were friends who "had a strong feeling" about the matter.

One bishop rebuked them saying of Mgr Ledwith ". . . but he's a distinguished international theologian". Another advised them, "go home and say your prayers". One priest member of the college staff grabbed one of their number, as if to strike him, before he accused them of attempting character assassination on Mgr Ledwith.

And Mgr Ledwith attempted, in at least one case of the five subsequently ordained, to stop him becoming a priest. He contacted the young man's bishop, but wiser counsel prevailed.

Yet it is agreed the former president's behaviour was known even among members of the college staff, as well as among seminarians. Some of the other seminarians also made individual representations about this to college staff. And those who did know, at whatever level in the college, were in no doubt as to the precise nature of the monsignor's behaviour.

Concern was not just with an "extravagant lifestyle," as Cardinal Cahal Daly, Archbishop Joseph Cassidy, Bishop Edward Daly, and Bishop Colm O'Reilly said in a letter to this newspaper last week.

The six seminarians who approached nine bishops on the matter, including the four signatories to that letter, have repeated and insisted since that letter appeared that all the bishops they approached were in no doubt as to what they were complaining about. Neither was the senior dean at Maynooth then either. Father Gerry McGinnity has said it was clear to him what the six seminarians meant and he conveyed this concern to higher authority.

For eight years following Mgr Ledwith's departure in 1994 the 17 trustee bishops at St Patrick's College sat on the reasons successfully. Those who inquired were told it could not be discussed "for legal reasons". One bishop suggested to one questioner that he should be careful or Mgr Ledwith's lawyers might take action against him (the questioner).

But despite those so-called legal reasons and Mgr Ledwith's lawyers, the 17 trustee-bishops felt free - at last - to issue a lengthy and detailed statement on the matter last Friday. It followed weeks of sustained media pressure. By no yardstick could that statement be described as just an account of an "extravagant lifestyle".

Meanwhile, the Irish Bishops Conference has yet to disclose any details of the independent audit they announced two months ago on April 5th. It will investigate how each diocese has dealt with complaints of clerical child sex abuse over recent decades, and was announced following Bishop Brendan Comiskey's resignation. They also agreed then to extend the powers of their Child Protection Office, but no further details have emerged about that either.

Meanwhile, the Birmingham inquiry, set up by Micheál Martin, the outgoing Minister for Health and Children, in response to the same crisis in the diocese of Ferns, is half way through its work. It reports in five weeks.

Patsy McGarry is Religious Affairs Correspondent of The Irish Times