The cost and fruit of advocacy for the marginalised

In his wonderful book, In the Midst of Much-Doing, Charles Ringma recounts his involvement with the marginalised in Brisbane during the 1970s.

To give an example from our ministry with troubled youth, drug addicts, and men and women in prostitution, we had no difficulty gaining support from churches, the general community, or the business world in our counselling work, drug prevention programs, rehabilitation, and training for meaningful employment. However, we were living in a city with a corrupt police drug squad, and we knew many people who had their doors bashed down at 5 am, been dragged out of bed, herded into a room, and guarded while other police searched the place and “found” guns, money, and loads of drugs, leading to an impressive arrest for the police force. Yet in many cases, the police had planted the drugs, as they were some of the key drug dealers in the community. Each police “success” put people we knew behind bars for several decades. As we learned of these unjust practices, we began to support our friends with legal help. 

But as soon as we raised the issue of police corruption, the churches and community sent us a clear message: heal, but don’t advocate; evangelize, but don’t work for justice; counsel people, but don’t engage political issues. In other words, we should try to “save people from their personal sins,” but we shouldn’t engage their oppression and victimization.

I worked for twenty years with drug addicts, men and women in prostitution, and delinquent youth. In this journey, I learned a most painful lesson. In a nutshell, the church, community-based organizations, and even big business were all willing to support a ministry of drug counselling, rehabilitation, prevention, prison work, and vocational training so that those who had been scarred by drugs could regain a more productive life. Even the secular businesses that supported us did not mind when people became Christians. But over time, it became apparent that the police drug-squad in our city of Brisbane were falsely arresting street people and under-reporting drug seizures. Thus, the police were corrupt and acting as drug pushers. 

We felt that we had to do something, and so our first move was to get assistance from lawyers, who helped falsely accused street people get off or receive lighter sentences. Our second move was to see the government minister responsible for the police and inform him of what we knew. He said he would look into the matter — and then did nothing. 

Some time later, we went to see the Premier of our state, who was a professed Christian. He also said he would look into it, but nothing happened. Months went by, and the false arrests and the sale of illegal drugs by the police continued unabated. For our final move (after praying a lot), we went to the media to expose what was happening. All hell broke loose. The police denied everything. The Premier publicly condemned us as communists. The churches withdrew all their financial support. On our knees, we were all but destroyed. 

Advocacy comes at a price.

But a seed was sown, and others sowed seeds. And eventually, several years later, a Commission of Inquiry into police corruption was set up, headed up by Tony Fitzgerald, QC. In light of the Commission findings, numerous police, four ministers of the government, and the Police Commissioner were found guilty and imprisoned, and the Premier was charged for perjury but was acquitted due to a hung jury. 

In telling this event, I am practically illustrating what the Lausanne documents call us to do. As the Manila Manifesto (1989) states, “we must demonstrate God’s love visibly by caring for those who are deprived of justice,” and our Christian service “demands the denunciation of all injustice and oppression.”

This shows the cost of advocacy for the marginalised. But, it also shows the fruit. Seeds can be sown. Not only did many of the marginalised benefit. Today, those of us living in Brisbane, benefit from not having corrupt police, unjust courts, or government by cronyism.