Bétharram: “We won’t rest” until the Church makes amends

JUSTICE INFO: You were named chair of the Inquiry Commission into violence committed at Notre-Dame-de-Bétharram. How did this commission come about?

JEAN-PIERRE MASSIAS: The Commission was established on the initiative of the Congregation of the Sacred Heart of Jesus of Bétharram, following revelations of sexual, physical and psychological abuse committed by priests at the Catholic school Notre-Dame-de-Bétharram (Pyrénées-Atlantiques). From the Congregation’s perspective, it was set up in urgency – not to say panic – even though the “Bétharram affair” had been known about for a long time and reparations for some victims had already been initiated. Media attention intensified after former Prime Minister François Bayrou was implicated. Unable to simply remain silent, the Congregation called upon the Joinet Institute to set up an independent commission of inquiry to investigate the acts of violence committed at the school in Béarn between the 1950s and 2000. We had three areas of responsibility: to shed light on the facts; to propose measures for redress; and to propose measures to prevent recurrence.

Didn’t the fact it was commissioned and funded by a religious institution – just like the Sauvé Commission (CIASE) in 2018 – pose an immediate problem of independence?

We set our conditions. First, there was to be absolutely no pressure from them whatsoever. We also set the principle that this Commission should operate like a truth commission, meaning we should have complete freedom to appoint its members and so ensure that a diversity of expertise was represented: sociologists, historians, psychologists, legal practitioners, specialists in transitional justice, and so on.

The idea was also to bring together experienced individuals, some of whom were members of the CIASE, the Independent Commission on Incest and Sexual Violence against Children (CIVIISE) and the Commission of Inquiry on children of the Creuse from Réunion. In addition, we made it a condition that the Congregation’s archives be made available and that no member of the Congregation refuse to speak to us. It was extremely important to have their testimonies, including those of the individuals implicated. On that basis, they agreed.

“In the Bétharram Congregation, not everyone was convinced of the need to carry out an investigation – far from it. Only four Catholic brothers took the risk.”

How did you deal with the fact that you were, inevitably, viewed with some suspicion by the victims?

Indeed, we constantly had to prove our independence in a media landscape already saturated with coverage of sexual abuse of minors. In my role as chair, I publicised the Commission’s activities and responded to all enquiries from the press. From the very beginning, we were completely transparent about how we operated: no member of the Commission received any remuneration, and, whilst never compromising the anonymity of those giving evidence, I did not hesitate to speak out about the abuse we heard about, thereby effectively implicating the Congregation. We also set up an ethics committee, chaired by Jean-Marc Sauvé (chairman of the CIASE), to demonstrate that we had the support of distinguished figures, both religious and secular, and that we were building on the work of the past.

In addition, we set up a “circle of persons of reference” comprising three victims and a representative of the Congregation, which met once a month. I must say that we remained firm in our independence when tensions arose with this last person. The Bétharram Congregation is divided into three main sections: France-Italy-Africa, Spain-Latin America and Great Britain-Asia. We were commissioned by the French section, and not everyone was convinced of the need to carry out an investigation – far from it. Only four Catholic brothers took the risk. I am very grateful to them for doing so, and I reiterate: we never went easy on them.

“Everyone knew, yet no one did anything. The silence surrounding this violence was glaringly obvious.”

The report refers to violence that is “systemic”, “particularly serious”, “with consequences that last a lifetime” and “which go beyond the victims alone”. How did the Commission go about establishing these findings?

The primary aim was to put it into words, to tell them to the victims and to the perpetrators and to tell those who should have been witnesses that were accomplices to an extremely serious crime. We even deliberately used terms drawn from international criminal law, because for us this constitutes a mass crime, or even torture. It is a crime for those who committed it, and a disgrace for those who allowed it to happen. To reach this conclusion, we interviewed around 60 victims [see box] in lengthy hearings, with psychologists present at every session. We also interviewed around 30 representatives of the Congregation. We carried out investigations in Côte d’Ivoire and the Central African Republic, where this Catholic congregation is established. In total, we interviewed 138 people. As regards the archives, historians have worked specifically on the Congregation’s archives in Bétharram as well as in Bayonne. The diocese granted us access to its archives, something it had always refused to do for the CIASE. We also had access to the Congregation’s Roman archives, which are held at the Vatican.

We began with the idea – perhaps a preconception – that this abuse was systemic, as the CIASE had already noted; the abuse we observed appeared to us to be sufficiently significant, widespread and persistent for us not to dismiss the systemic aspect. We therefore sought to establish how many victims were involved, what type of abuse they had suffered and under what circumstances, in order to map out the locations and times of the abuse. There are the direct perpetrators of violence, but there is also the “Bétharram system” within the institution that fosters domination. The most notable example is the directors, who take power over the congregation and the school by appointing particularly brutal supervisors to enforce discipline within the school.

Everyone knew, yet no one did anything. The silence surrounding this violence was glaringly obvious. It was physically impossible or inconceivable that no one had any suspicions. We often heard: “We didn’t see anything.” But that’s not possible. We’re not necessarily calling people liars, but if they didn’t see it, it’s because they couldn’t see it – because there were systemic mechanisms that prevented them from seeing.

Is this what you call “active silencing”?

Yes, it is mechanisms that make it very difficult to speak out. The abuse was accompanied by multiple mechanisms of “silencing”, based on fear, shame, power relations or control. For example, the fact that the priests, the Brothers of Bétharram, did not witness the abuse can be analysed in terms of the relationship of ecclesiastical domination and faith, and this was sometimes further complicated by the presence of certain figures such as the school directors, who were not only members of a religious order but also individuals with strong personalities and more social standing. Some brothers came from extremely disadvantaged backgrounds and knew nothing but Bétharram. So there is also a form of denial on their part, and there is reason to think they too may have been victims.

Finally, whilst some victims could not speak out for a long time, many did try to speak out about the abuse they suffered and its consequences. These accounts, like the signs of suffering that accompanied them, were paid far too little attention. Very few victims were believed or protected. The monitoring, reporting and protection mechanisms failed to prevent abuse, to put a stop to it early enough, or to provide the victims with appropriate support.

What do you mean by the “greater Bétharram”?

It refers both to all the victims in the Bétharram who have not yet come forward and to all the victims in other institutions. This was, in fact, a point of debate within the Commission: should we have stuck to our narrow remit, or broadened our scope from the outset to include other potential victims in the other places where the Congregation operates? For me, the “greater Bétharram” encompasses all potential victims of the Congregation worldwide. The Congregation operates in 14 African countries, amongst other places.

“In France, 13 complaints were recorded against him. In Africa, numerous testimonies also converge denouncing similar behaviour.”

You write that Côte d’Ivoire “holds a special place in this story”. Were you able to visit the country to investigate?

As regards Côte d’Ivoire, we were alerted by an article in the newspaper Le Monde which mentioned two victims of the Basque priest Beñat Segur, former director of Notre-Dame-de-Bétharram who died in 2010. His career traces a complete geographical map of the Bétharram Congregation world, for he served notably as a missionary in Africa. In France, 13 complaints were recorded against him. In Africa, numerous testimonies also converge denouncing similar behaviour.
Côte d’Ivoire seemed to us to be a priority place to investigate. We spent a week in Abidjan meeting witnesses.

You also visited the Central African Republic capital Bangui, and you mention reports coming from Morocco and Algeria. Does this encourage you at the Joinet Institute to look more closely at the issue of sexual abuse within the clergy in Africa, something which is shrouded in a culture of silence?

That should be the case, but we do not currently have the resources to do so. To carry out in-depth investigations, we need to be able to recruit people who can establish links on the ground, stay there, and so on. We have made contacts and sparked interest. We recommend deepening the investigations by relying on local civil society organisations. This is also a message to the Congregation; we are determined to show that not everything has been said and that certain matters still need to be explored, in Africa but also in Asia, and more specifically in Thailand.

“I draw on the thinking of Alex Boraine, vice-chair of the South African Truth Commission, who distinguished between objective truth, subjective truth and the truth that emerges from dialogue and interaction.”

Let’s come back to the work of your commission. What transitional justice tools did you use?

The main tool was listening to the victims. In a commission of this kind, the victims’ accounts are placed at the centre; the aim was not to assess whether a particular victim had a completely accurate recollection of what happened, because in transitional justice we believe the victims, simply because they are telling us something. I draw on the thinking of Alex Boraine, vice-chair of the South African Truth Commission, who distinguished between objective truth, subjective truth and the truth that emerges from dialogue and interaction. What the victims told us was remarkably consistent, both in their accounts of what they suffered, their feelings, and above all the consequences.

One of the Commission’s most important tools was drawing on the expertise of two psychologists specialising in psychological trauma, Jocelyne Valentino and Muriel Salmona, as we were dealing with people who were still deeply traumatised.

One of the ways in which we differed – compared with the Vannier Commission or the CRR – was that we interviewed the priests of the Congregation who had agreed to speak to us. These interviews were essential, because you sometimes need to be able to confront them with their own contradictions, see how they defend themselves and the arguments they use to justify their actions. This is how we were able to identify standard responses such as “I didn’t see anything”.

Another transitional justice tool we used was constant comparison between individual testimony and the organisation as a whole; this back-and-forth was essential for highlighting the “systemic nature” of the violence. I also realised just how much of an intellectual and emotional exercise this is. Finally, on the issue of recommendations – the cornerstones of transitional justice – we tried to strike the right balance to ensure they were concrete and actionable.

“My obsession was not to offer victims empty promises by dangling the prospect of things that would never materialise. Above all, we did not want to keep the victims waiting too long.”

The Sauvé report got a lot of criticism regarding the implementation of its 45 recommendations. What lessons have you learned from this?

The CIASE made a huge number of recommendations, as did we. That is important. But the risk is that those implementing them will simply “pick and choose”, thereby distorting the overall reparations package designed to tackle the systemic nature of sexual violence. The twelve commissioners had many ideas. We organised the 25 recommendations into three “blocks”: financial redress; support for victims; and finally, symbolic and collective redress. My obsession was not to offer victims empty promises by dangling the prospect of things that would never materialise. Above all, we did not want to keep the victims waiting too long.

Very quickly, victims were able to turn to the CRR, a mechanism that was already in place. I make no secret of the fact this was a source of tension with the Congregation, as we were asking that victims of sexual violence committed by laypeople be brought before the CRR on the same basis as victims of sexual violence committed by priests. This is not just symbolic, it doubles the number of victims.

We are also in the process of setting up a holistic centre based on the “one-stop shop” model developed by Denis Mukwege in the Democratic Republic of Congo. This is a platform for referring victims to psychologists, lawyers and social workers to find practical solutions.

Finally, we have been putting pressure on the Bishop of Bayonne to erect a memorial within Bayonne Cathedral. For my part, I am keen to establish a citizens’ tribunal in 2027, along the lines of the Russell Tribunal, which would symbolically try individuals who cannot be brought to justice because they have died or the statute of limitations has expired.

Recommendations remain the Achilles heel even of the best commissions, however interesting they are. Do you think you can do better?

Once again, my obsession was I did not want to make recommendations that were impossible to implement. The greatest, practical innovation of this Commission is that it will extend its mandate to become a monitoring committee for the implementation of the recommendations. This will be a forum for reflection and for the joint development of a reparations policy, involving a tripartite partnership between the institutions (the State, the French Bishops’ Conference and the General Secretariat for Catholic Education), the victims and the commissioners. For the time being, the Congregation does not wish to get involved, but we are not going to let them off the hook. We need those responsible to implement a genuine reparations policy. As far as the State is concerned, we are currently in negotiations, the aim being to get as many stakeholders as possible to participate in the reparations process. The first meeting of the monitoring body will take place in November, followed by monthly meetings.

Do you think this sort of commission could have existed without 40 years of experience with truth commissions?

No, at least not the way I built it, as I put myself in the footsteps of my predecessors. The Bétharram Commission is the fruit of what has happened in truth commissions and in France, because I believe we have had truth commissions that failed to live up to their name. I’m thinking of the commission on the “stolen children” of Réunion – because it was comprehensive, it addressed systemic violence and it placed the victims at the centre. And I am thinking of the CIASE, of course. We are its continuation. It was time to embrace the fact that we are a truth commission.

“My main criticism would be that we have not yet fully succeeded in involving victims in the Commission’s proceedings. The concept of inclusion, which is so central to transitional justice, still needs work.”

Three months after the report was published, what lessons have you learned?

I am keen to take a critical look at our work, so as not to fall into the trap of complacency. My main criticism would be that we have not yet fully succeeded in involving victims in the Commission’s proceedings. The concept of inclusion, which is so central to transitional justice, still needs work. And then, of course, we do not know how the monitoring of recommendations implementation will work, despite our best intentions.

This self-criticism will help us contribute to a broader reflection on transitional justice in France and allow me to continue campaigning for a “French-style” truth commission model.

What do you mean by that?

We need to distinguish between State-led truth commissions and non-State truth commissions. Personally, I favour a hybrid model. In every truth commission, the State must not be omnipresent, whilst civil society must play a greater role. Civil society needs the State to guarantee the process, and the State needs civil society to inform and oversee it. A “French-style” commission might typically be proposed on an issue raised by civil society, conducted independently by commissioners, and then the State would step in.

“In my view, there are two areas of focus for transitional justice in France – decolonisation, and violence committed by the State, for example, police violence.”

Does that mean, in practical terms, that we could see truth commissions looking into issues of social violence?

I am convinced this is a model that can be adapted to many issues of social tension. In my view, there are two areas of focus for transitional justice in France – assuming we continue to use that term, as I am in favour of moving towards the terms “systemic justice” or “transformative justice”. The first area concerns the French overseas territories; we urgently need to complete decolonisation in Réunion, French Guiana and New Caledonia. The second area concerns episodes of violence committed by the State, for example, police violence during the “Yellow Vests” protests. I am also working on issues of systemic poverty, along the lines of the “political truth commissions” in Britain, which are truth commission-style bodies focusing on poverty. We must address poverty for what it is – namely, a mass crime – and involve people living in poverty, not only in giving testimony, but also in the administration of justice.

Meanwhile, the Church, as an institution, has still not been called to account for these crimes. How do you explain this impunity?

Can we talk of impunity? Yes and no. The Catholic Church certainly enjoys criminal impunity because many prosecutions are not brought, either due to the statute of limitations or because perpetrators have died. But in media and “symbolic” terms, the Church’s image has been severely tarnished. Is the Church more corrupt than any other institution, or has it been more heavily criticised because these cases have come to light, with more likely to follow? I have no idea. In any case, one thing is clear: the Church obviously has a particularly strong capacity for resilience as an institution, and it is not being clear on its capacity to participate in reparations, even though it is by no means short of funds.

I firmly believe that the Church’s path is all the longer because the harm runs very deep. There is an inherent aspect of religious power that strengthens capacity for domination. The Church also operates within a society that is by no means exemplary when it comes to sexual violence. Society itself gives rise to a number of forms of domination, and there is a great deal of sexual violence. The Weinstein affair is not the Church. Eradicating sexual violence against people, against children, requires radical changes in society. The domination of adults over children is also a factor in sexual violence.

We need to set up more Bétharram commissions, not through a single large national commission but through independent commissions linked to a congregation, an institution, a community or a local area. I believe we really must recognise that sexual violence is everywhere and that we must tackle this head-on in all sectors of society.

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Victims of Church abuse speak (Part 1): whether or not to ask for reparation