From England's pews, a quiet abolitionist finds his voice on slavery
A collaboration between Catholic churches and police officers holds promise for British efforts to combat trafficking, and is being adopted in other countries.听Part 3 in a series on solutions to freeing victims of labor trafficking around the globe.听
A collaboration between Catholic churches and police officers holds promise for British efforts to combat trafficking, and is being adopted in other countries.听Part 3 in a series on solutions to freeing victims of labor trafficking around the globe.听
This story was written to be viewed on the Monitor's long-form platform.
When it comes to hunting down human traffickers, Detective Chief Inspector Sion Hall knows the ropes. If he sees a window sign offering cheap rents in cash, no questions asked, he follows up; when a new girl鈥檚 photo appears on a prostitution听website, he checks that she is not working against her will.
But ask him about his most effective new tool in the fight against modern slavery in听East Lancashire听and he cites an unusual weapon: Anthony Brown, a soft-spoken, retired Catholic churchgoer.
Mr. Brown has founded an organization in Our Lady of the Valley parish whose name is as plain as his manner: the Combating Human Trafficking听Group. Its job is simple as well 鈥 to make locals understand that modern-day slaves inhabit their surroundings, and to turn听these volunteers听into eyes and ears for the police.
Britain has been quick to pass laws against trafficking, and dedicated resources to prosecute offenders and help victims 鈥 who could number as many as 13,000,听according to officials. But first they need to find the slaves, who tend to lead lives below the radar of cops like Hall, often out of fear.
鈥淲e could wait here for the next five years for someone to call and say, 鈥業鈥檓 a victim of trafficking,鈥欌 says Hall. 鈥淲e鈥檇 get some, but not many鈥 Human trafficking will never be resolved by the police or any government agency alone. It鈥檚 everybody鈥檚 problem.鈥
Hall and Brown,听the cop and the pensioner,听make听an odd couple. But they came together by force of a higher alliance between the Catholic Bishops' Conference of England and Wales (CBCEW) and听London鈥檚听Metropolitan Police Service, or Met.
The basic idea of the Bakhita Initiative is that the church brings with it a听global network of believers, a commitment to care, and often under-utilized buildings. It includes a safehouse, research center, and a slew of other collaborations between churches and law enforcement. For the police, it can provide more intelligence, more access to testimony, and ultimately more means to convict traffickers 鈥 which is notoriously challenging. 鈥淵ou bring those two things together and you have a really formidable force,鈥 says Britain鈥檚 new Independent Anti-slavery Commissioner Kevin Hyland.
Named after听St. Josephine Bakhita, a Sudanese woman enslaved and trafficked to Italy where she was freed and became a nun in 1896, the听initiative听is centralized in the heart of London. But in听just 18 months it听has spurred police-church initiatives from Nigeria to Poland. And it could ultimately have the most impact harnessing the power of single individuals who apply its principles 鈥 awareness/prevention, pastoral care, multiple partnerships听鈥听anywhere from听Rome to the Ribble Valley, where Brown and Hall live.
As he kneels in the pews at his local church, Mr. Brown says his goal is clear: 鈥淲e see ourselves as bottom up,鈥 he says, 鈥渢rying to do what [the Bakhita Initiative] is doing, at the local level.鈥
The 'golden hour' of brothel raids
Joining church and state together in the fight against trafficking听can make for an uneasy听relationship, with mistrust on both sides.听In the UK, it听began to take shape under Hyland, when he headed the听Met鈥檚 trafficking unit. In 2012, he decided to take Catholic nuns who were听already听working with prostitutes听in London听on police raids of brothels. The sisters 鈥渨ere doing visits but the intelligence wasn鈥檛 getting into the police,鈥 says Hyland. So traffickers operated with impunity, simply replacing rescued victims with new ones.
They each gained. The police helped the nuns realize that听in order to lock up traffickers they needed victim testimony, especially in the 鈥済olden hour鈥 after a raid when police have the best chance of shutting down an operation and identifying the traffickers.听
Cecilia Taylor-Camara,听a senior policy adviser in the migration and policy office at the CBCEW, says the sisters helped the police focus beyond criminalization, to see that women were potential trafficking victims. 鈥淭he [sisters] said, 鈥榊ou know what? Look again,鈥欌 says Ms. Taylor-Camara.
Hyland鈥檚 work at the Met directly inspired one of the key elements of the Bakhita Initiative, the Santa Marta group, which brings together police chiefs and bishops from around the world. Already under their umbrella new alliances have been forged between bishops and authorities. Hyland recently returned from Nigeria鈥檚 Edo State,听which is the prime source of all Nigerians trafficked for sexual exploitation, according to UN and Nigerian government statistics. He is now trying to help foster a link between the Catholic sisters there and local law enforcement, modeled after his work in London.
He says convictions听in the UK听remain too low. But in the past five years they鈥檝e gone up. In 2013-14, there were 226 prosecutions involving human trafficking, double the 103 counted in 2010-2011.
Hidden in plain view
Human trafficking is not rife in the terraced housing of the old mill towns of East Lancashire, today teeming with immigrants. It鈥檚 even less common in the region鈥檚 picturesque villages, where sheep and dairy farms spread up and down the green hills and valleys.
But听then there are cases like that of听Jumoke, trafficked from Nigeria for the European sex trade, or听Abena, a Ghanaian who escaped forced exploitation in a food shop in Manchester, an hour鈥檚 drive from Clitheroe. The two women, whose names are听pseudonyms, are at听a safe-house in the region run by the Medaille Trust, an anti-trafficking charity that runs seven such houses for victims nationally, including two in northern England.
On a recent morning the staff was preparing for a new resident, placing toiletries like shampoo and toothpaste next to her bed.听Abena, dressed in a pink nightgown before getting ready for her new job as a bagger at a grocery store, says she was legally adopted by her aunt at age 16 with the promise of a top-rate education in Britain. Only when she arrived did she realize her aunt鈥檚 intent: She worked for six years, 13 hours daily, in her aunt鈥檚 store. 鈥淚 never went to school,鈥 she says, her eyes misting.
Jumoke says the plan to traffic her into Europe fell through at Heathrow Airport. While she feels safe, she says her family is not: Traffickers have called her mother and threatened her for the money听they say听her daughter owes.
These aren鈥檛 the kinds of scenarios that Brown, the Catholic pensioner, comes across in his daily to-and-fro in Clitheroe, where he grew up and returned to after retiring from his job as an occupational psychologist in Leeds and Sheffield. But it was exactly the shock 鈥 that modern slavery happens everywhere, even here 鈥 that has turned him into the driving force in the area fighting for victims like听Jumoke or Abena.
He originally thought the best he had to offer was fundraising. He plays rhythm guitar in a local band that performs Irish folk ditties as well as Lancashire songs that either poke fun or eulogize local life, like the region鈥檚 disused cotton mills, depending on their mood. In the fall of 2014 he produced a 鈥淭raffik Jam鈥 concert to raise money for the cause; this is how听he met Hall.
But when the Bakhita Initiative was created last year, Brown says, it hit him like a quiet revelation. 鈥淭he police need us,鈥 he says.
A dogged man reaches out
Tall and bespectacled with a graying beard, Brown is shy and contemplative. Tucking into a听Sunday听night roast at his sister-in-law鈥檚 house, he barely speaks, while at mass he cuts a discreet figure. But he can be dogged; he calls himself 鈥減ushy.鈥
Last fall he began to network with anti-trafficking groups and to volunteer for the Medaille Trust. But he wanted to set up a group in his parish. Together with his wife, Mary Brown, he began talking to parishioners, who include a charity director, a local journalist, a teacher in a Catholic school, and, crucially, Hall, the detective. The parish priest then encouraged them to meet with the bishop of the Salford diocese.
The group鈥檚 latest project is a poster and leaflet campaign to highlight common signs of potential trafficking. Brown cold-calls听Catholic head teachers to听gauge interest in information packets they鈥檝e听received. He gives talks听on human trafficking. He has signed up 70-some people to his e-mail newsletter.
On a recent听Sunday听morning before mass, Brown鈥檚 doorbell rings: a woman from the local Quakers picks up a flier for the Q&A they are organizing for听Britain鈥檚 Anti-Slavery week in October.
Mark Wiggin, chief executive of Caritas in the Diocese of Salford, says he felt some hesitation at first听at joining Brown鈥檚 circle. 鈥淎 little group from Clitheroe, what can we contribute against an illegal international trafficking organization? It鈥檚 like getting into the illegal arms business,鈥 he听says.听Indeed, their fliers can feel out place, vying on bulletin boards around Clitheroe for advertisements for afternoon tea and singles nights. 鈥淚sn鈥檛 this a bit beyond us?鈥澨齢e wondered.
Hall has convinced them it鈥檚 not.
A papal message to slavery victims
Pope Francis has firmly supported the听police-church collaboration听of the Santa Marta group. Its inaugural meeting took place in the papal residence in Rome, in April 2014, where he called trafficking a crime against humanity.
And he supported the work again听on Oct. 30 when the group, which includes 170 representatives from 28 countries,听held their third meeting outside Madrid.
鈥淲ith God's help, and your collaboration, the indispensable service of the Santa Marta Group will be able to free the victims of new forms of slavery, rehabilitate them, along with the imprisoned and the marginalized, unmasking the traffickers and those who create this market,鈥 Francis said in a statement.
It鈥檚 perhaps no coincidence that Britain is leading the effort. Its empire became the world鈥檚 most powerful on the backs of slaves,听traded between Africa and North and South America, which in turn fueled the plantation economies of the new world. It has a long legacy fighting it too: abolitionist William Wilberforce campaigned nearly 50 years until Britain banned slavery outright in 1833. However, its textile mills 鈥撎齞otted across valleys in Lancaster听鈥 continued to import cotton from southern US states until the Civil War and a Unionist blockade of southern ports cut off their supply.听听听听听听听听听听听听听
For many, Britain鈥檚 Modern Slavery Act of 2015, which came into force this听summer, is considered groundbreaking legislation that builds upon that听abolitionist legacy. It听gives more powers to police and provides more victim support, as well as placing requirements on large businesses to disclose how they ensure their supply chain is 鈥渟lavery free.鈥 It also created Hyland鈥檚 position as the independent anti-slavery commissioner.
Convincing victims that they are victims
The new law is crucial for police, as it strengthens their hands in cases that are more difficult than drug busts, says Hall,听the detective. With trafficking, lines blur between slavery and exploitation; in court it鈥檚 often one person鈥檚 word against another.
One of the biggest challenges, he says, is that many victims don鈥檛 see themselves as such 鈥 whether because they鈥檝e been brainwashed, have mental illness, or simply because, while they may be exploited, at least they have a roof over their heads.
On a recent day he drives to his office in the old mill town of Blackburn, pointing to a home where his team recently kicked down the door to rescue a Romanian sex worker after an online ad raised an alert. Many of the women listed on the website came from Romania, one of top countries of origin for trafficking into the UK. So the police began to dig and to gather evidence to arrest a suspected trafficker at his home in Blackburn. But when they went to the house, three months ago, the Romanian woman, who was there, began to defend him and call him her husband. It was only after Hall built a rapport that she told the truth. 听
The new law is intended to create as hostile an environment as possible for traffickers to operate, says Fiona Cunningham, a former adviser of the Home Secretary who worked on the 2015 act. 听鈥淚t鈥檚听about making it harder for traffickers to go about their business, to make them think, it鈥檚 too hard now,鈥 she says.
A national rise in trafficking referrals
Hall says Brown鈥檚 group is essential to his anti-trafficking drive in East Lancashire. Given the challenges to root it out, 鈥渋t鈥檚 much easier to prevent it, to disrupt it,鈥 he says.
Across the country, awareness is growing of a crime whose slippery edges can be hard to grasp. The number of victims being identified is growing, by police and the public alike. There were 2,340 victims referred via a national system听last year, up 34 percent from 2013. In 2009, the first year of the referral system, only 535 victims were counted. Of these referrals, more than four in ten were ultimately classified as trafficking victims.
Many believe the increase does not show an uptick in crime, but that it鈥檚 coming out of the shadows. 鈥淗uman trafficking听happens on your doorstep,鈥 says Wendy Adams, a trainer for Stop The Traffik, an organization in the UK that trains communities to spot signs of modern-day slavery. 鈥淟ikewise, the answer lies on your doorstep.鈥
For Hall, the civic engagement is paying off. The police were able to rescue a Polish couple from a backyard听shed this summer 鈥渨here you wouldn鈥檛 keep a dog,鈥 he says. The tip-off came from a municipal worker: A Polish woman, who was inquiring about her child in social services, looked nervous and underfed. She kept looking outside where a man, clearly not her husband, was waiting.
Radars up in Ribble Valley
The Combating Human Trafficking Group听in Clitheroe听has been in operation for less than a year, and so far they haven鈥檛 led Hall directly to any cases. But their radars are up. One member alerted authorities at the Manchester airport after she saw two scantily dressed women in the bathroom, an older gentleman waiting for them outside. Authorities told her it turned out to be a traveling dance troupe.
Does it all feel a little futile to Brown? He nods.听鈥淪ometimes I鈥檝e asked Sion Hall, are we actually achieving anything?鈥 Brown says.听鈥淲hat he says to me is, 鈥榠f we can rescue one person [as a result of]鈥μpublic intelligence there is a reason for this.鈥欌
And since then they鈥檝e drawn up a three-year plan that looks beyond the Ribble Valley.听 In Year Two they aim for other parishes in the diocese to establish similar anti-trafficking groups; in Year Three for other dioceses to look at theirs as a model. 鈥淲e are going from the parish to deanery to diocese. We are going the other way than the Bakhita Initiative,鈥 Mr. Wiggin of Caritas says. 鈥淢aybe we鈥檒l meet up in the middle.鈥
It seems likely they will. Hyland,听the anti-slavery czar,听says that they are now creating a national version of the Santa Marta group, linking bishops in the 22 dioceses around England and Wales with the various police constables.
Hyland hadn鈥檛 heard of Brown鈥檚 group in Clitheroe, but when he did, he says it鈥檚 exactly in the spirit of the Bakhita Initiative.
鈥淚t doesn鈥檛 always end up with people being arrested听鈥μ齩r great big operations. But what it does seem to always end up with is vulnerable people being supported,鈥 he says.听鈥淚 think that this model is something that will actually start to be an antidote to the issue, provided we keep going听forward.鈥
Published Nov 2: One woman's journey from Staten Island slavery to being her own boss.
Coming Nov. 16: In Florida's tomato fields, a movement toward ethical labor grows.