The church promises improvement – this is how it is received by a ‘survivor’.

«I decided in advance not to cry today. I have to admit that I couldn’t hold back the tears before that. I’m not ashamed of that. Many of those affected will cry today.” With these words, Vreni Peterer began her statement on Tuesday morning at the media conference at which the University of Zurich presented its preliminary study on sexual abuse in the Catholic Church.

The results previously presented: 1,002 documented cases of sexual abuse in the Catholic Church over the past 70 years. Most of those affected were minors. Most perpetrators are priests. “This is just the tip of the iceberg,” historian Monika Dommann said several times at the press conference.

1002 cases of sexual abuse. This number resonated in Vreni Peterer’s mind. «I imagined all those affected. All individual fate. All the suffering the church has caused. And so inevitably tears came to my eyes,” she tells Watson after the press conference.

Peterer is not only chairman of IG-Miku, the interest group for people affected by abuses in the church environment. She is also affected by it. Or “survivors,” as she prefers to call them.

In the 1950s, Vreni Peterer was raped by her priest at the edge of the forest at the age of ten. He then threatened her that she would go to hell, the devil himself, if she talked to anyone about the incident. “I was very scared,” says Peterer.

With this threat the priest silenced them. “And to this day, to some extent, I still fear what will happen to me after my last breath.” This fear is so deep that it cannot be rationalized away. Not even after many hours of therapy. And not at the age of 62 either.

In their report, the historians describe what Peterer describes here as “spiritual abuse.” Their research was able to demonstrate how perpetrators subjugated and/or silenced their victims in the name of religion. When reading the preliminary research, one thing became clear to Vreni Peterer:

It wasn’t until 2018 that Peterer broke her silence. She contacted the specialized committee of the Diocese of St.Gallen responsible for reports of abuse. Not only did she find out that her tormentor had already died. She also learned that he had been sentenced to four months in prison in the 1950s. “Because he got too close to the students in the religious classes,” according to state court documents.

Vreni Peterer eventually asked the diocese of St. Gall to see the priest’s personal files. She found no sexual abuse there. There are many letters for that. In it, a superior of her tormentor ensured that he could disappear from the scene for a year after his conviction and let the grass grow over it.

He then ensured that the previously convicted priest could be reinstated. To do this, he was simply transferred to another community. In the community of Vreni Peterer.

“When I found out, I fell into a deep hole. And at the same time I felt incredibly angry,” says Peterer. So many questions came her way. Why hadn’t the church protected her from this man? For this convicted criminal? Why had she tried to cover it up?

This part of Peterer’s story is also emblematic of the way the Catholic Church has dealt with priests who have criminal records or have been accused by parishioners over the past seventy years.

In their report, the researchers mention a case from the 1960s. At the time, a priest could abuse at least 67 minors over a period of years because his superiors simply transferred him when allegations of abuse were made. Even after the priest had been imprisoned for two years for continuing fornication with children.

As the preliminary investigation showed, the responsible canon wrote in a letter:

Canon law, which also prohibits sexual abuse, was hardly applied, the researchers concluded. Neither in this case nor in the case of Vreni Peterer. ‘Hide, obscure, ignore, downplay’ was the church’s strategy, according to historian Marietta Meier.

It was no longer possible to hide it today. Joseph Bonnemain, the Bishop of Chur, addressed the media as a representative of the Bishops’ Conference. He found clear words:

Bonnemain announced four measures. First of all, there must be a professional, independent agency where those affected can report abuses.

Second, in the future, a standardized psychological test should be administered to all church employees. Third, human resources within the church need to be professionalized to ensure that information about an employee’s abuse is stored in his or her personnel files. And fourth, destroying documents is prohibited. All dioceses in Switzerland have already signed a voluntary commitment to this effect.

Bonnemain’s performance was largely well received by Vreni Peterer. “I’ve never seen him so determined.” She sincerely believes that he wants to work on improvements. But he is also just a single representative of the church in a complex system.

Moreover, Joseph Bonnemain did not apologize to those affected on behalf of the church at the media conference. He also expressed his condolences for those only indirectly affected. He continued to speak about individuals who had abused their positions of power, even though the preliminary investigation showed that the entire system of power in the Catholic Church encouraged abuse. Above all, Vreni Peterer would have wanted one thing from him: “That he would finally stand up and say: ‘We, the Catholic Church, have made mistakes.’”

After all: the measures announced by Bonnemain give Peterer “carefully measured hope”. Your interest group already called for an independent reporting center for those affected in April 2022. And Bonnemain promises that one will be set up ‘immediately’.

Peterer now hopes that he means the informal ‘immediately’ and not the ecclesiastical ‘immediately’. As the preliminary investigation also showed, the Catholic Church in Switzerland should have started dealing with it no later than twenty years ago – for example in the form of independent investigations. “Instead, they tried to wait the issue out,” historian Monika Dommann said that day.