The Royal Commission Report on Abuse in Care in New Zealand was released on July 24, 2024. It considered the widespread abuse in care in state and faith-based settings between 1950 and 2019. The findings are shocking: it is estimated that 256,000 (40%) out of 655,000 people in care suffered from physical, psychological, spiritual, and sexual abuse, including what amounted to “torture” in one health care institution. Feminist theologian Rocio Figueroa discusses some of the findings here.

It is quite paradoxical that at the same time that this report was released, New Zealand has once again been recognized as one of the world’s most peaceful nations, ranking number four globally at this time in history.[1] New Zealand’s high ranking is attributed to low levels of domestic and international conflict, minimal violent crime, and limited militarization. This lack of violent conflict, however, must not allow us to forget that there is a more subtle, hidden, and traumatic violence that hurts the most vulnerable in our society. Speaking about this more subtle and no less dangerous kind of violence, Nelson Mandela said:

“Less visible, but even more widespread, is the legacy of day-to-day, individual suffering. It is the pain of children who are abused by people who should protect them, women injured or humiliated by violent partners, elderly persons maltreated by their caregivers, youths who are bullied by other youths, and people of all ages who inflict violence on themselves. This suffering – and there are many more examples that I could give – is a legacy that reproduces itself, as new generations learn from the violence of generations past, as victims learn from victimizers, and as the social conditions that nurture violence are allowed to continue. No country, no city, no community is immune. But neither are we powerless against it.”[2]

It is heartbreaking that the most vulnerable individuals in New Zealand – including children, disabled people, Māori, Pasifika, and women – were the most severely harmed. The report reveals that Māori and Pasifika children and young people experienced higher rates of abuse compared to their non-Māori and non-Pasifika counterparts. It also identified that in addition to the trauma of sexual and physical abuse experienced by Māori and Pasifika peoples, there was often a loss of their cultural identity, language, and connection with their family and community.

In her testimony, Paora Crawford Moyle tells of how she experienced sexual abuse after church functions, Sunday school, church picnics, and in parishioner’s homes. On top of that terrible sexual abuse, she also suffered cultural abuse: “At school I was targeted by my teacher for my behaviour and because I was Māori. I had an undiagnosed neurodiverse condition – I now know I have high functioning autism. I was constantly sent to the corporal punishment teacher, and was strapped with a large leather belt, or caned across the backside or back of my legs. I was 8 years old when I was first strapped, and this abuse continued for at least the next three years.”[3]

This is just one of many testimonies that highlights the intersection of racism and abuse, where multiple layers of trauma were created by the discrimination survivors encountered in care settings. Research about the relationship between poverty, racism and abuse, shows that Māori were more frequently placed into care, separated from their cultural roots and whānau (family), and subsequently experienced harsher treatment due to their ethnicity and skin colour. Today, one in five Māori or Pasifika families live in poverty, as opposed to half that rate – one in 10 – for Pākehā (those of European descent) families.[4] There is no way we will prevent abuse if we do not address the social causes that nurture violence: “a large volume of research, both internationally and in New Zealand, has found close links between poverty, deprivation, child maltreatment and neglect.”[5]

The report characterizes its findings as a “national disgrace”. As a Catholic theologian, I would say that it is also an “ecclesial disgrace.” Sexual abuse was found to be more prevalent in faith-based settings as opposed to state settings. About 2,300 people came forward to the Commission, bravely telling their stories and identifying themselves as having been abused in faith-based care settings between 1950 and 2019. Given these numbers, it is estimated that between 53,000 and 106,000 people may have been abused in faith-based care settings.[6] This estimate of the rate of abuse has been calculated mainly on international evidence.

It is already horrific the betrayal that they have suffered from people, who in the name of God, harmed them, but a second victimization has been the poor and inadequate responses to allegations, cover-ups prioritizing the image of the institution, and the lack of justice from faith-based communities.

I must also mention that the report noted that women within patriarchal structures in faith-based settings were disproportionately affected by abuse. While there is now more consciousness around addressing the abuse of children in faith-based contexts, when violence happens against young or adult women, it continues to lend itself to ambiguous interpretations. Churches often try to portray violence against women as if it were a consensual act, and even worse as a ‘romantic relationship’. For example, in the Catholic Church, in a pastoral setting there is a structural inequality and imbalance of power between priests and women. The report has strongly signaled that there have not been any signs from the Catholic Church to address the systemic factors that have enabled abuse. Referring to all Christian churches the report affirms: “Although early Christianity was notable for its respect for women, there is also a legacy of constraints on female leadership in the churches, despite frequent challenges from within. Although there have been changes over time, in all eight faiths the Inquiry investigated, clergy and religious leaders have been highly gendered with control historically held by males. Authority of males within faith-based institutions contributes to the occurrence of abuse (…) These patriarchal hierarchies within faith-based institutions contribute to a culture where disclosing abuse is discouraged and victims are unsupported.”[7]

The Commission made 138 recommendations to the State and faith-based communities. These include apologies, ensuring more transparency, implementing strong safeguarding polices, and establishing independent mechanisms to ensure accountability. I hope that all the recommendations will be implemented.

As faith-based communities, our commitment needs to be effective: reading and engaging with the report, digesting its content, and we believers in our own contexts have to ask what we can do to address the topic of violence in our communities and the systemic factors that enable it, and put in place all the measures to create safer spaces.

Dr. Rocio Figueroa is a Peruvian Catholic Theologian and survivor. Figueroa’s present research focus is theological and pastoral responses for survivors of Church sexual and spiritual abuse. Web: https://rocio-figueroa.com/

[1] Institute for Economics and Peace, Global Peace Index, 2024. Retrieved from: https://www.visionofhumanity.org/maps/#/

[2] Nelson Mandela, Foreword, World Report on Violence and Health, https://apps.who.int/iris/bitstream/handle/10665/42495/9241545615_eng.pdf?sequence=1

Accesed 16 August 2023.

[3] Paora Crawford Moyle, Survivor experience. Retrieved from https://www.abuseincare.org.nz/reports/whanaketia/part-1/survivor-experience-paora-crawford-moyle/

cracks-in-the-dam-invisible-forces-destroying-families-in-aotearoa-independent-research-report, p. 24.

[5] Ibid., 27.

[6] Martin Jenkins, Indicative Estimates of the Size of Cohorts and Levels of Abuse in State and Faith Based Care 1950 to 2019. Final Report, 1 October 2020, Retrieved from: https://www.abuseincare.org.nz/our-progress/library/v/195/size-of-cohorts-and-levels-of-abuse-in-state-and-faith-based-care-1950-to-2019, 5. 39. “It has been used two approaches to estimate the numbers of survivors of abuse in State and faith-based care. The top-down approach starts with number of people in State and faith-based care settings between 1950 and now – ‘the Cohort’ – and uses data on prevalence of abuse (from New Zealand and international studies) to estimate the percentages of the Cohort who may have been abused. The bottom-up approach starts with the number of people in State and faith-based care (in a range of settings) between 1950 and now who have identified that they have been abused in care – the ‘known’ claimants of abuse. For present purposes, known claimants of abuse are treated as a proxy for the minimum possible numbers of survivors, given that recorded claims almost certainly represent a significant underestimate of true levels of abuse”. (p.5)

[7] Survivors’ experiences of abuse and neglect in faith-based care, Retrieved from: https://www.abuseincare.org.nz/assets/Whanaketia/Summaries/Summary-Faith.pdf