CRIMES OF THE CROSS

by Anne Manne

Publisher: Black Inc Books, 2024

Publisher’s blurb

A searing expose of institutional child abuse, and the remarkable story of the survivors who would not be silenced

For many years, Newcastle was the centre of a sinister paedophile network run by members of the Anglican Church – and protected by parishioners and community members who looked the other way.

In this gripping book, Anne Manne reveals how this network avoided detection for so long, and how its ringleaders were finally exposed and brought to justice. At the heart of the story is a survivor, Steve Smith, who endured years of childhood abuse but refused to be silenced.

Drawing on extensive research and interviews with survivors, clergy, lay people, police and others, Manne explores how the network operated and how it became entrenched in the upper echelons of Newcastle society. She offers deep insights into the minds and strategies of abusers and pays tribute to the victims and their tireless struggle for justice. Child sexual abuse has previously been thought of as an individual crime; Manne pioneers an examination of it as part of a network.

This is an unforgettable story of courage in the face of unthinkable evil.

Review

By Rachel Spencer

Crimes of the Cross is the true story of a gentle altar boy with the face a smiling angel who was sexually abused, raped and traumatised over several years, beginning when he was ten years old. When he summoned to courage to ask for help, to get the abuse to stop, no-one believed him, just as his tormentor had threatened. Worse, he was made to feel that he was the wrongdoer. 

Crimes of the Cross is a work of long-form journalism, but it is Dickensian in its narrative arc. We follow the plight of a lonely child who must bear his terrible burden alone. It is heartbreaking to think of the atrocities perpetrated against the boy whose beaming face shines out from page 1 of Chapter 1. This is the only photograph in the book, and it is all the more poignant because of its simplicity, its innocence, and its terrible foreboding.

The Cross in the title has long been recognised as a symbol of Christianity, a religion whose philosophy includes the concepts of loving one’s neighbour as oneself and the power of forgiveness. Over the past two thousand or so years, Christianity as an overarching faith has metamorphosed into a variety of forms, of which the Anglican Church (or Church of England) is only one. Many Christian denominations have evolved as powerful and influential institutions with rigid rules and hierarchical membership and governance structures. The Anglican Church, which was established as a political strategy to maintain power by the English monarch Henry VIII, developed as one of the most powerful institutions in the world, with the English monarch as its supreme head (still the case today). Taking on the Anglican Church is literally mounting a fight against the King. 

It was into this historically powerful institution that a little boy, whose name was (is) Steve Smith, was introduced. Family life ‘revolved around the church and its community’. Steve’s mother played the organ, cleaned the church and ‘festooned it with fresh flowers.’ Steve’s father “was a church warden, responsible for the (local) church finances and for the maintenance of the grounds and building”. It is little wonder that when Father George Parker arrived in Newcastle in 1971, he was able to groom the whole family, starting with Steve’s mother. ‘Winning Margery’s trust and acting as her intimate confidant, Parker gained free access to Steve.’ Parker was quickly accepted as a good man, very likeable. He was charismatic, with long hair and good looks; he could sing and play the guitar. Parker, a powerfully built man, first sexually assaulted Steve in the church vestry after a service, as Steve was changing out of his white altar boy robes. 

This is the story of Steve’s odyssey, of his journey to conquer seemingly impossible odds, to navigate the most difficult terrain, facing endless obstacles crafted to perpetuate the dominant idea that ‘priests were no ordinary mortals … they were God’s representative on earth, superior to their flock.’ 

Crimes of the Cross is a biography of heartbreaking sadness about the cruelty of George Parker and the entire hierarchy of “Team Church”, including the ‘grey network’ of protectors, both within and outside of the Church, who shielded a dark network of paedophiles for a long time. Father George Parker was so protected that he was, for a long time, untouchable. It seemed impossible to pin blame on him. The details of the extraordinary lengths that the Church went to, to conceal evidence, to lie, to be deliberately obstructive, to thwart the legal process and to perpetuate a regime of crime and cruelty are painstakingly researched and carefully presented in a narrative that is neither salaciously written not exploitative of the victims, but that explains how abusers groom not only their victims but their entire communities. ‘The number one grooming strategy … was creating the image of a benignly helpful person.’

There are so many (real) characters named in this book that it is sometimes quite confusing trying to remember who they all are and how they fit into the overall picture. Any future editions would benefit from a list of names and roles. In a couple of chapters, some of the narrative doubles back on itself and the timeline becomes unclear. Importantly however, Manne tells a story that sits in the True Crime genre as an example of ethical life-writing. Manne is mindful of her responsibilities as an author to those whose lives are used as ‘material’. The story unfolds in a way that does not exploit or misrepresent those whose lives are involved, while preserving Manne’s integrity as a writer. We are right there with Steve as Manne follows his quest as he becomes a ‘leader in the survivor fraternity’. This is a story of bravery, of tenacity, and of the stark reminder that evil flourishes where good people do nothing.