I cannot fail first to pay tribute to the honest frankness and dispassionate judgement of E. Burke Rochford and Bhararata Srestha das in their articles. 'Dispassionate' does not, of course, denote an attitude of cool standing back and self-distancing from the realities of such a painful subject. Rather it signals the endeavour of a religious believer or sympathiser to be committed to practical and effective action for change, instead of being paralysed by panic and despair, or provoked into ill-considered action by rage or defensiveness.

I recognise points of convergence with the experience of the Roman Catholic community in Britain in the sociological analysis of the situation by E. Burke Rochford, but I recognise differences also. There can be a variety of causal factors in child abuse. Obviously, I am speaking from a social context limited by my experience in Britain, which is significantly different from North America, to say nothing of India.

The association of religion with child abuse, and of religious ideas with emotional abuse, is possibly more plausible in the context of the United States. If a fundamentalist approach to scripture and a pessimistic interpretation of Original Sin is still encouraged with strong religious practice, one can see the links. British Catholics are more surrounded and influenced by secular agnosticism, and secular ideas of child rearing. (Only the wealthy minority was, until recently, able to pay elite private schools to beat their children for misbehaviour; these private schools were, with eccentric anachronism, called 'public schools'.)

Totally foreign to the Catholic tradition is the idea that marriage and family might be a symbol of spiritual failure, and that children's education could become of secondary importance to the community's main mission. On the contrary, building schools and educating children received greater priority in resources allocation in comparison to even church building. Parents were not excluded from contact with the network of day schools. Religious orders engaged with care of children and education as their primary raison d'être. Yet in these far from marginalised institutions (schools and families) abuse did occur.

Nevertheless, there was a restricted group of children, who by definition were deprived of parents or family lifethose 'in care', either as orphans, or by secular court order, or those handed over by unmarried girls unintentionally pregnant. Worse still for those children who were 'exported' to commonwealth countries with inter-governmental approval to enjoy a supposedly 'better and healthier life' than was available to them in tired, cold, hungry, post-war Britain. These probably suffered the worst abuse, emotional, physical and sexual. The abusers were priests, religious sisters and lay staff. The situations were those of isolation from society and living in 'total' institutions. The Utting Report[1] has shown that even today, living away from home is an indicator of risk be it in religious or secular society. Wherever there are children living away from home, in a situation of particular dependency and subordination to authority, there is a magnet for child abusers. Without efficient management and standards that can be, and are checked, abuse is likely.

Opportunity is of course widely available to trusted religious guidesthe family circle is open to them, they are above criticism, welcome and their attention and kindness to children is particularly valued. (Only doctors could be more greatly trusted, but most children are not perpetually ill.) The non-religious abuser has to find his way into the family, perhaps via cohabitation with a vulnerable woman to obtain access to children. In contrast the power of the religious guide lies in his or her ability to persuade children that somehow 'this is all right', and to deflect suspicion by status.

For these reasons the response to child abuse cannot be limited to ensuring that new cases are properly handled-though this is important as an immediate response by an institution. Here, the context of secular law and public authority is exceptionally important. If the welfare of children is paramount, and if there are adequate public services, then co-operation and liaison with the State authorities are the guiding principles, not leaping into inexpert investigation by interested parties. It is natural, as Bharata Srestha das outlined, that ISKCON Resolutions 90119 should precede 98305, but it would be strongly advisable that attention to the needs of victims and to prevention should become the focus.

It is likely that there will always be some cases of abuse (this is a sad fact of any organisation, be it religious or secular), and there will be abuse that is never discovered. The most effective action that an organisation can take is to reduce risks and opportunities by preventive policies. Perhaps most important is the adoption of 'professional' or 'acceptable' standards of conduct for all those that work with children whether paid or volunteers. This limits opportunities of access to children. It provides a discernible matter for detecting and prosecuting perpetrators, and finally defends people from the risk of false accusations. Setting standards requires resources at a local level or a unit of management or authority that will enable teams to work. These teams will introduce, advise on, modify and monitor these standards by their observation. They should be answerable to the local religious authority (the bishop for Catholics) and enjoy unequivocal support from that quarter. They should be trusted with full information and should ensure that such information is comprehensive and without breaks in continuity.

The last problem to be addressed (and this does not necessarily come after the other tasks have been completed) is what to do with offenders. A number of questions spring to mind: is the religious community right to conclude that offenders must, without exception, be expelled? Does that make the world safer for children? One is aware of the danger of bogus repentance by an offender, and the danger of an abuser's utilisation of religious status to obtain access. Our experience is that incarceration of an offender provides both a safe period and a breathing space for the institution to assess how to respond. But what next? Do you throw a time bomb out into society, or do you try to strike a bargain: supervised life within the religious community, subject to strict conditions, regular risk assessment and the knowledge of those who need to know? Like many other problems surrounding child abuse, there probably is not one right answer-we have to cope with 'doing the best we can'.

Footnotes

[1] Utting, Sir William, 'People Like Us: The Report of the Review of the Safeguards for Children Living Away From Home', British Government, Department of Health, 1997.