'They don't believe someone with a long beard could do this'
The Jewish Chronicle
Ben Weich
25 October 2019
Victims of alleged child sex abuse in the Charedi community describe how a culture of witness suppression, a fear of secular institutions, deference to rabbinic authority and strict sexual taboos kept them from speaking out
A string of historic child sexual abuse cases in the Charedi community has sent shockwaves through strictly-Orthodox circles — and prompted religious leaders to reassess how they respond to complaints.
Although there is no real data on the prevalence of offending in these communities, there is no reason to suggest children are abused more frequently in Charedi communities than in wider society.
But a series of alleged victims have told the JC that a culture of witness suppression, a fear of secular institutions, deference to rabbinic authority and strict sexual taboos have conspired to make it harder to speak out, and have thwarted attempts by secular agencies to root out abuse.
Among the Charedi men to be convicted in recent years are Menachem Mendel Levy, in 2013, Todros Grynhaus in 2015 and David Glausiusz and Isaak Goldschmidt in 2017.
There have been other cases brought to court which did not lead to convictions.
Avraham*, who claims he was abused as a child in Manchester by a family friend, said a presumption of innocence endures in the community — especially when a respected figure is accused.
He told the JC: “I think, first of all, they don’t believe it. They don’t believe someone with a long beard could do this.
“The way I see it, if a Jewish Orthodox guy came in here now with a knife they would be calling the police. So why are they not doing it [with child sexual abuse]?
“We have an amazing community — there are a lot of great people out there. But because everyone trusts each other, people fall through the net. And there a lot of horrible, dangerous people out there.”
Chaim, who is also now an adult, said that, when he first came forward, attempts were made to discredit him as a “jealous person who was angry at how my life had turned out”.
He continued: “Whereas he was such a respected member [of the community] and I was jealous of him. I think there’s probably still a mentality of… it’s not so much brushing it under the carpet but that it just couldn’t have happened… and therefore let’s support [the alleged abuser].
“In terms of the support, there’s very little of it. You’re really on your own. Even going through the court case, I’ve really had no support from anyone, apart from [my wife].”
An implicit trust of fellow members of the community and a mistrust of the outside world are two sides of the same coin. This, and the all-encompassing nature of Charedi life, is often used to silence victims, according to sources.
It is not unusual for a Charedi man to work in the community, send his children to an Orthodox school and for his wife’s circle of friends to be made entirely of Jewish women.
According to Miriam, whose husband was allegedly abused, people in the community “just think they have so much to lose that they would rather just deal with it than lose everything”.
Avraham said: “The biggest threat in the Jewish community is saying: ‘I’ll kick your kids out of school’. And because I’m still in the frum Orthodox community it was like — am I going to find a wife? Are they going to kick me out? And that’s not even a personal thing. You can’t blame people for not coming forward but I think you still have a responsibility.
“I felt like everyone was talking about it. It’s not like because I’m paranoid. I’m walking down the street and people do look at you different.”
He added that, in the eyes of the community, accusing his alleged abuser meant he had attacked the reputation of an entire family, which he feels made him “the bad person”.
Others claimed that formal academic qualifications many Charedim lack when they leave school is yet another barrier to breaking away — which serves as a disincentive to come forward about abuse.
Shimon, whose decision to leave the Manchester frum community as an adult stemmed from the abuse he suffered at the hands of a youth leader, said: “You know that you don’t have the tools to manage anywhere else.
“You don’t have the social knowledge, the cultural knowledge. Often you don’t have qualifications — you don’t even have GCSEs. So where are you going to go?
“People stand to lose everything. Some people are very, very happy to stay in the community.
“They’re happy to have their lives decided for them. No matter what happens, they will want that sort of structure around them.”
Beyond practical considerations, certain interpretations of Jewish law can also discourage the reporting of abuse, according to Professor Steven Resnicoff, the director of DePaul University’s Centre for Jewish Law and Judaic Studies.
According to his 2012 article, Jewish law and the tragedy of sexual abuse of children, frequently cited Jewish doctrines include prohibitions against suing a fellow Jew in court, uttering unfavourable remarks about others (or believing them), harming fellow Jews and reporting them to secular authorities.
Prof Resnicoff also wrote that other considerations for rabbinic authorities include “a possible lack of respect for the practical judgment of its rank and file members — and, ironically, a concern lest those same members develop a lack of respect for their judgment.”
Avital, Shimon’s ex-partner, argued that rabbinic attitudes to reporting abuse have begun to slowly change in recent years.
She told the JC: “They do support you to report it now. There’s more awareness and there’s more support now. I’ve spoken to a rabbi who now says he would support someone to come forward. There are people I can speak to — there is a rabbi I can speak to. I do think this is God’s will and this is how things are happening.
“It’s less frightening [to come forward] because other people have done it already.”
In recent years, sources report that tentative steps have been taken by Orthodox schools to introduce safeguarding and raise awareness of abuse.
Victim support services have also sprung up, most notably Migdal Emunah, established in 2013 by Yehudis Goldsobel, who was abused by Mendel Levy.
But persistent taboos and a lack of formal sexual education in Charedi society still represent a barrier for those who wish to come forward, according to Manny Waks, the founder of Tzedek, an Australia-based support and advocacy group for Jewish survivors of child sexual abuse.
He said: “There are unique issues within the Charedi community. Even referring to or mentioning sex or sexual abuse is something that’s not acceptable in these communities.
“You can’t even talk about this, which is obviously a big issue.
“Also, the concept of the rights of the child is a relatively new phenomenon in the wider society, going back only a few decades. In Charedi communities, the rights of the child do not exist in almost any way.”
Leila, a survivor of sexual abuse as a child, told the JC that the issue had “polarised” Manchester’s frum community in recent years — splitting local Charedim between victims who feel let down by communal institutions, and those opposed to “airing dirty laundry in public”.
She said: “There is still tremendous fear — of acknowledging it. And even of working a bit with the outside authorities — it’s not a dirty word. But knowledge is power — put it out there. Silence just encourages the perpetrators.”
The JC approached the Manchester Beth Din, the Federation of Synagogues, the Gateshead Jewish community and Greater Manchester Police for comment.
*Names mentioned have been changed to protect alleged victims’ anonymity
Originally published at The Jewish Chronicle.
A string of historic child sexual abuse cases in the Charedi community has sent shockwaves through strictly-Orthodox circles — and prompted religious leaders to reassess how they respond to complaints.
Although there is no real data on the prevalence of offending in these communities, there is no reason to suggest children are abused more frequently in Charedi communities than in wider society.
But a series of alleged victims have told the JC that a culture of witness suppression, a fear of secular institutions, deference to rabbinic authority and strict sexual taboos have conspired to make it harder to speak out, and have thwarted attempts by secular agencies to root out abuse.
Among the Charedi men to be convicted in recent years are Menachem Mendel Levy, in 2013, Todros Grynhaus in 2015 and David Glausiusz and Isaak Goldschmidt in 2017.
There have been other cases brought to court which did not lead to convictions.
Avraham*, who claims he was abused as a child in Manchester by a family friend, said a presumption of innocence endures in the community — especially when a respected figure is accused.
He told the JC: “I think, first of all, they don’t believe it. They don’t believe someone with a long beard could do this.
“The way I see it, if a Jewish Orthodox guy came in here now with a knife they would be calling the police. So why are they not doing it [with child sexual abuse]?
“We have an amazing community — there are a lot of great people out there. But because everyone trusts each other, people fall through the net. And there a lot of horrible, dangerous people out there.”
Chaim, who is also now an adult, said that, when he first came forward, attempts were made to discredit him as a “jealous person who was angry at how my life had turned out”.
He continued: “Whereas he was such a respected member [of the community] and I was jealous of him. I think there’s probably still a mentality of… it’s not so much brushing it under the carpet but that it just couldn’t have happened… and therefore let’s support [the alleged abuser].
“In terms of the support, there’s very little of it. You’re really on your own. Even going through the court case, I’ve really had no support from anyone, apart from [my wife].”
An implicit trust of fellow members of the community and a mistrust of the outside world are two sides of the same coin. This, and the all-encompassing nature of Charedi life, is often used to silence victims, according to sources.
It is not unusual for a Charedi man to work in the community, send his children to an Orthodox school and for his wife’s circle of friends to be made entirely of Jewish women.
According to Miriam, whose husband was allegedly abused, people in the community “just think they have so much to lose that they would rather just deal with it than lose everything”.
Avraham said: “The biggest threat in the Jewish community is saying: ‘I’ll kick your kids out of school’. And because I’m still in the frum Orthodox community it was like — am I going to find a wife? Are they going to kick me out? And that’s not even a personal thing. You can’t blame people for not coming forward but I think you still have a responsibility.
“I felt like everyone was talking about it. It’s not like because I’m paranoid. I’m walking down the street and people do look at you different.”
He added that, in the eyes of the community, accusing his alleged abuser meant he had attacked the reputation of an entire family, which he feels made him “the bad person”.
Others claimed that formal academic qualifications many Charedim lack when they leave school is yet another barrier to breaking away — which serves as a disincentive to come forward about abuse.
Shimon, whose decision to leave the Manchester frum community as an adult stemmed from the abuse he suffered at the hands of a youth leader, said: “You know that you don’t have the tools to manage anywhere else.
“You don’t have the social knowledge, the cultural knowledge. Often you don’t have qualifications — you don’t even have GCSEs. So where are you going to go?
“People stand to lose everything. Some people are very, very happy to stay in the community.
“They’re happy to have their lives decided for them. No matter what happens, they will want that sort of structure around them.”
Beyond practical considerations, certain interpretations of Jewish law can also discourage the reporting of abuse, according to Professor Steven Resnicoff, the director of DePaul University’s Centre for Jewish Law and Judaic Studies.
According to his 2012 article, Jewish law and the tragedy of sexual abuse of children, frequently cited Jewish doctrines include prohibitions against suing a fellow Jew in court, uttering unfavourable remarks about others (or believing them), harming fellow Jews and reporting them to secular authorities.
Prof Resnicoff also wrote that other considerations for rabbinic authorities include “a possible lack of respect for the practical judgment of its rank and file members — and, ironically, a concern lest those same members develop a lack of respect for their judgment.”
Avital, Shimon’s ex-partner, argued that rabbinic attitudes to reporting abuse have begun to slowly change in recent years.
She told the JC: “They do support you to report it now. There’s more awareness and there’s more support now. I’ve spoken to a rabbi who now says he would support someone to come forward. There are people I can speak to — there is a rabbi I can speak to. I do think this is God’s will and this is how things are happening.
“It’s less frightening [to come forward] because other people have done it already.”
In recent years, sources report that tentative steps have been taken by Orthodox schools to introduce safeguarding and raise awareness of abuse.
Victim support services have also sprung up, most notably Migdal Emunah, established in 2013 by Yehudis Goldsobel, who was abused by Mendel Levy.
But persistent taboos and a lack of formal sexual education in Charedi society still represent a barrier for those who wish to come forward, according to Manny Waks, the founder of Tzedek, an Australia-based support and advocacy group for Jewish survivors of child sexual abuse.
He said: “There are unique issues within the Charedi community. Even referring to or mentioning sex or sexual abuse is something that’s not acceptable in these communities.
“You can’t even talk about this, which is obviously a big issue.
“Also, the concept of the rights of the child is a relatively new phenomenon in the wider society, going back only a few decades. In Charedi communities, the rights of the child do not exist in almost any way.”
Leila, a survivor of sexual abuse as a child, told the JC that the issue had “polarised” Manchester’s frum community in recent years — splitting local Charedim between victims who feel let down by communal institutions, and those opposed to “airing dirty laundry in public”.
She said: “There is still tremendous fear — of acknowledging it. And even of working a bit with the outside authorities — it’s not a dirty word. But knowledge is power — put it out there. Silence just encourages the perpetrators.”
The JC approached the Manchester Beth Din, the Federation of Synagogues, the Gateshead Jewish community and Greater Manchester Police for comment.
*Names mentioned have been changed to protect alleged victims’ anonymity
Originally published at The Jewish Chronicle.