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Bleeding For Jesus: John Smyth and the Cult of the Iwerne Camps
This is said to be the true story of John Smyth QC, a high-flying barrister who used his role in the church to abuse more than a hundred men and boys in three countries. The book tells how he was spirited out of the UK, how he played the role of moral crusader to evade justice over four decades and also reveals how scores of respected church leaders turned a blind eye to his history of abuse. Journalist and broadcaster Andrew Graystone is said to have pursued the truth about Smyth and those who enabled him to escape justice, heard the excruciating testimony of many of Smyth's victims, and uncovered court and church documents, reports, letters and emails. He is said to have investigated the network of exclusive 'Bash camps' through which Smyth groomed his victims. For the first time, he presents a comprehensive critique of the Iwerne project and the impact it has had on British society and the church.
240 pages, Paperback
First published October 6, 2021
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53 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 24 of 24 reviews
September 30, 2021
What a horrific story about a lawyer who used his position with Iwerne to groom and viciously abuse so many young men. It’s well written and lays out the details of the case. It also shows how the church leaders swept it under the rug and got rid of John Smyth to save their program (Iwerne) It was kept quiet for decades until recently by all involved. Advance electronic review copy was provided by NetGalley, author Andrew Graystone and the publisher.
December 27, 2021
John Smyth QC had a public image in the 1970s and 1980s as a conservative activist who worked with Mary Whitehouse in her failed campaigns to hold back the twentieth century. He lived near Winchester College, England’s oldest public school and was well-known there as a senior figure in the Iwerne Trust which recruited young men to Evangelical Anglicanism. John and Anne Smith often entertained boys from the college at their home, and Smyth became known as a man who would openly discuss matters that troubled the budding Evangelicals. Masturbation was one and the need for a man who has given himself to Christ to suffer for his sins was another.
You can see where this is going, and sure enough it made a marvellous cover for Smyth who was a moralistic homoerotic sadist who used his position to take youths and young men to his garden shed, order them to strip naked before administering ferocious canings to their bare bottoms. As part of the ritual, Smyth was also naked, and lotion was helpfully kept on a side table which Smyth used to sooth the ravaged backsides before putting the victim into adult nappies so that the blood that was running down his legs after a caning of up to several hundred strokes would not stain his trousers. Then the fellow would be sent off to the house, for a nice cup of tea from Anne, who would offer him a cushion to sit on. Smyth had thoughtfully soundproofed his shed and a small pennant was stuck in the garden as a sign to Anne not to approach.
On one level the story of John Smyth and his predilection for BDSM is yet another account of an older, upper-class, closeted homosexual getting his rocks off with younger men. There is no suggestion in Andrew Graystone’s account of anybody being coerced and neither can Smyth be accused of paedophilia as none of the submissive participants were pre-pubescent. However, it is always the cover-up that is important with these matters, and the concealment of Smyth’s activities involved at the very least rather a lot of people who did an excellent job of keeping a lid on the story for many years.
Smyth looked for participants amongst the older pupils at Winchester, which was an inspired choice as the school, according to Graystone, comes over as a closed world where what happens in the school stays in the school. The pupils speak what amounts to a cant tongue, where words that are really only known to the initiates are used; thus homework is called “toytown” and bicycles are “bogles,” to give just two examples. The whole institution seems to operate with its own “complex and arcane culture,” that had been handed down the generations with its original meanings probably long forgotten but which were adhered to religiously. New pupils were tested at the end of their first term on their grasp of the cant, and any who failed could often expect a dose of the cane to encourage further study.
His chairmanship of the Iwerne Trust allowed him to recruit volunteers for the rod from a wider field than just Winchester. The trust ran summer camps to provide intense religious training in Evangelicalism and entry was restricted to pupils at the elite public schools. The aim of the camps was to take tomorrow’s leaders of Britain and ensure that as many as possible became Evangelicals. John Smyth must have been in his element.
Eventually, of course, the complaints about Smyth’s activities began to mount, but incredibly enough, all the complainers did was contact the senior figures within the same Evangelical sub-section of Anglicanism that was part and parcel of the problem. A gaggle of fathers descended on Winchester College to demand that something be done, but at the same time they insisted that whatever was done had to happen quietly.
A report on Smyth was prepared in 1982 which runs to twenty-two short paragraphs, and sets out succinctly what he had been up to. This report was then hidden away and only shown to a few senior Evangelicals. Its author, Mark Ruston, was very concerned that Smyth’s activities may have been heretical. In particular he believed that the canings strayed dangerously close to “a flirtation with Popery,” owing to the obsession with “penance” and it seems to have been that theological concern, rather than the BDSM dungeon that Smyth had created out of his garden shed that was the most troubling.
The headmaster of Winchester College banned Smyth from the premises, which mollified the fathers at least. The Evangelical capos concluded that Smyth was in error theologically, and that issue could be corrected quietly. Smyth helped the process along by taking his collection of canes and nappies into the garden and making a bonfire out of them.
Finally, the Iwerne Trust arranged for Smyth and his family to move to Zimbabwe in 1984 with a special trust fund to cover his living expenses. There, he pretty much carried on as before only this time with African youths rather than English ones.
Eventually, the heat became too much in that country so he scampered off to South Africa and there again continued in his old way until the local church expelled him. By 2018 with the story having finally broken, he very conveniently for all concerned died of a heart attack in Cape Town.
This fairly unpleasant tale is not really about Anglicanism or its Evangelical sub-section. It is actually the seemingly endless story of upper-class homosexual abuse, the sense of entitlement that those people have and the code of omerta that governs it all. By helping to break the story, Andrew Graystone has helped to shed another chink of light into the activities, mores and attitudes of our country’s rulers and the state that exists for their benefit. That, finally, is a very good thing indeed.
An edited version of this review has appeared in The Brazen Head, an online political and literary quarterly journal. https://brazen-head.org/
You can see where this is going, and sure enough it made a marvellous cover for Smyth who was a moralistic homoerotic sadist who used his position to take youths and young men to his garden shed, order them to strip naked before administering ferocious canings to their bare bottoms. As part of the ritual, Smyth was also naked, and lotion was helpfully kept on a side table which Smyth used to sooth the ravaged backsides before putting the victim into adult nappies so that the blood that was running down his legs after a caning of up to several hundred strokes would not stain his trousers. Then the fellow would be sent off to the house, for a nice cup of tea from Anne, who would offer him a cushion to sit on. Smyth had thoughtfully soundproofed his shed and a small pennant was stuck in the garden as a sign to Anne not to approach.
On one level the story of John Smyth and his predilection for BDSM is yet another account of an older, upper-class, closeted homosexual getting his rocks off with younger men. There is no suggestion in Andrew Graystone’s account of anybody being coerced and neither can Smyth be accused of paedophilia as none of the submissive participants were pre-pubescent. However, it is always the cover-up that is important with these matters, and the concealment of Smyth’s activities involved at the very least rather a lot of people who did an excellent job of keeping a lid on the story for many years.
Smyth looked for participants amongst the older pupils at Winchester, which was an inspired choice as the school, according to Graystone, comes over as a closed world where what happens in the school stays in the school. The pupils speak what amounts to a cant tongue, where words that are really only known to the initiates are used; thus homework is called “toytown” and bicycles are “bogles,” to give just two examples. The whole institution seems to operate with its own “complex and arcane culture,” that had been handed down the generations with its original meanings probably long forgotten but which were adhered to religiously. New pupils were tested at the end of their first term on their grasp of the cant, and any who failed could often expect a dose of the cane to encourage further study.
His chairmanship of the Iwerne Trust allowed him to recruit volunteers for the rod from a wider field than just Winchester. The trust ran summer camps to provide intense religious training in Evangelicalism and entry was restricted to pupils at the elite public schools. The aim of the camps was to take tomorrow’s leaders of Britain and ensure that as many as possible became Evangelicals. John Smyth must have been in his element.
Eventually, of course, the complaints about Smyth’s activities began to mount, but incredibly enough, all the complainers did was contact the senior figures within the same Evangelical sub-section of Anglicanism that was part and parcel of the problem. A gaggle of fathers descended on Winchester College to demand that something be done, but at the same time they insisted that whatever was done had to happen quietly.
A report on Smyth was prepared in 1982 which runs to twenty-two short paragraphs, and sets out succinctly what he had been up to. This report was then hidden away and only shown to a few senior Evangelicals. Its author, Mark Ruston, was very concerned that Smyth’s activities may have been heretical. In particular he believed that the canings strayed dangerously close to “a flirtation with Popery,” owing to the obsession with “penance” and it seems to have been that theological concern, rather than the BDSM dungeon that Smyth had created out of his garden shed that was the most troubling.
The headmaster of Winchester College banned Smyth from the premises, which mollified the fathers at least. The Evangelical capos concluded that Smyth was in error theologically, and that issue could be corrected quietly. Smyth helped the process along by taking his collection of canes and nappies into the garden and making a bonfire out of them.
Finally, the Iwerne Trust arranged for Smyth and his family to move to Zimbabwe in 1984 with a special trust fund to cover his living expenses. There, he pretty much carried on as before only this time with African youths rather than English ones.
Eventually, the heat became too much in that country so he scampered off to South Africa and there again continued in his old way until the local church expelled him. By 2018 with the story having finally broken, he very conveniently for all concerned died of a heart attack in Cape Town.
This fairly unpleasant tale is not really about Anglicanism or its Evangelical sub-section. It is actually the seemingly endless story of upper-class homosexual abuse, the sense of entitlement that those people have and the code of omerta that governs it all. By helping to break the story, Andrew Graystone has helped to shed another chink of light into the activities, mores and attitudes of our country’s rulers and the state that exists for their benefit. That, finally, is a very good thing indeed.
An edited version of this review has appeared in The Brazen Head, an online political and literary quarterly journal. https://brazen-head.org/
October 8, 2021
This is an important book. Not only does it outline the terrible abuse of John Smyth, who never faced justice for his crimes but it also describes the culture of the Iwerne Trust which has had a huge influence on the Church of England since the war. It describes the kind of spiritual abuse that can go on, the cult like elements of small groups of powerful men and goes some way to explaining why the C of E is so embroiled in issues around misogyny and sexuality.
I recognised the influence of Iwerne in my time with the Christian Union movement at university and can see how toxic some of those practices can become - such as intense one to one 'discipleship'.
The book read to me like an absorbing true crime podcast and all the more appalling given that it took place in my beloved Church of England.
I recommend it to anyone involved in church ministry and my heart goes out to the survivors, especially those in Zimbabwe and South Africa.
I recognised the influence of Iwerne in my time with the Christian Union movement at university and can see how toxic some of those practices can become - such as intense one to one 'discipleship'.
The book read to me like an absorbing true crime podcast and all the more appalling given that it took place in my beloved Church of England.
I recommend it to anyone involved in church ministry and my heart goes out to the survivors, especially those in Zimbabwe and South Africa.
October 12, 2021
A detailed and gut wrenching true story of the evil of John Smyth and the cover-up of the Church of England. The author does a terrific job of telling an honest and compelling story of what took place and how it destroyed so many people. It is not an easy story to read but must be told. This is not your typical true crime story - nor should it be.
Thank you to NetGallley, the author and publisher for an e-ARC in exchange for my honest opinion.
Thank you to NetGallley, the author and publisher for an e-ARC in exchange for my honest opinion.
November 20, 2022
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for providing this book in exchange for an honest review.
What an appalling story about John Smyth and the Iwerne camps. The crimes and brainwashing are hard to read about. The coverup is even harder.
A lot of research went into this book but at times it got to be too much irrelevant information to wade through.
What an appalling story about John Smyth and the Iwerne camps. The crimes and brainwashing are hard to read about. The coverup is even harder.
A lot of research went into this book but at times it got to be too much irrelevant information to wade through.
October 9, 2021
I first heard of John Smyth and his appalling behaviour a couple of years ago, when the scandal around Jonathan Fletcher first broke. Fletcher was the minister of Emmanuel Church in Wimbledon from 1982 to 2012, and myself and my family were members of it from 1999 to 2009. It's a wealthy and powerful church - or at least it was - and Fletcher was an outspoken and controversial, but respected and revered leader. Uncompromising and single-minded, there was something of a personality cult around him, and he was hero-worshipped by the very prosperous and privileged congregation, many of whom were extremely influential people in the world of business and politics. Fletcher was closely involved in Iwerne camps, run for boys at elite public schools, and designed to build in them a very uncompromising evangelical faith, while preparing them for influence and high office in the world of work and public life.
Anyway, in 2019, it became commonly known that Fletcher had been involved in some very disturbing spiritual and physical abuse, humiliating and sexually assaulting young men he was responsible for mentoring. The whole business has been appallingly handled, and Fletcher has so far largely escaped justice. The revelations that have come out of the church strongly indicate that he spent years building systems that would leave him free to abuse, and he maintained loyalty and silence through what was effectively a reign of terror. I think there's much we don't know about what he did as yet, and I fear he'll take that information to his grave, as so far he's been completely unrepentant and refused to co-operate with any enquiries into his disgusting behaviour. It's left me very angry indeed - I was a loyal member of his congregation, who gave a lot of time, money and effort to the church at a time when I had a lot of problems of my own to deal with. I was never directly abused by Fletcher, but I now recognise that his supposed "benign dictatorship", which was often joked about, was a literal reign of terror as far as many young men were concerned. I feel that people like me, who attended the church in good faith and believed in what it was doing, have been taken for mugs and used as human shields, as Fletcher publically condemned homosexuality and sex outside marriage, while privately indulging in some very sick and twisted sexually-motivated abuse.
Anyway, much of the media coverage of the Fletcher case turned the spotlight onto Iwerne camps, and someone Fletcher and his brother, also a minister, clearly knew well - John Smyth. This man was a well-known barrister who in the seventies was involved in a number of high profile cases relating to public morals, often campaigning and fighting alongside Mary Whitehouse. He was a well-known "family values" campaigner with a very uncompromising evangelical faith. He was involved in the Iwerne camps for many years, and it also transpired that he was fond of literally beating the living daylights out of the young boys he befriended and mentored. This went on for some years in the UK, and when he was found out in 1982, the Iwerne leadership tried to hush up the whole thing, silence the victims, and enable Smyth to quietly leave the country. He moved to Zimbabwe, where he started running similar camps - the abuse got even worse, and a 14-year-old boy died on a camp in 1992.
Sadly, Smyth died in 2018 without ever facing justice. Channel 4 broke the story in 2017 and confronted Smyth, but no police action was taken before his death in South Africa. The suffering of his victims has been absolutely horrendous.
This book tells the whole sorry tale of what Smyth did, why he did it, how the story emerged, and the terrible injustices, collusions, mistakes and missed opportunities that followed. Jonathan Fletcher's own abuses are also touched upon, as they come from the same culture, and were allowed to happen because of a very particular set of beliefs, and the idea that the Gospel must never be brought into disrepute.
The author deserves hearty thanks for bringing this awful tale to light, and for telling the story of the unfortunate victims of Smyth. The graphic descriptions of the abuse they suffered is extremely disturbing, and made my skin crawl. Smyth used brutal grooming and manipulation techniques to terrify his victims into silence, picking on vulnerable young men who he beat viciously in a soundproofed shed in his large garden. He even kept nappies in there for them to wear afterwards, to contain the blood. He was free to abuse for at least twenty years, while leadership of the Iwerne camps dithered and ignored the pleas of victims for help.
This was a hard book to read, as I've had my own extremely negative experiences in church, although they were nowhere near as bad as this. Unfortunately there's much I recognise here, as the particular form of uncompromising evangelical theology, combined with public school culture and an authoritarian atmosphere, creates an environment in which abuse is almost inevitable. You can't believe the sorts of things these people believe about God without it making a terrible mess somewhere.
The author looks at the life of the founder of the Iwerne camps, Eric Nash, and his life was an odd one. There were so many warning signs that were missed, and his huge influence and strange lifestyle ended up being replicated over many generations. There's no doubt whatsoever that abuse got ingrained into Iwerne culture, and this has got a foothold throughout the more conservative parts of the Church of England.
This book is a hugely important read for anyone concerned about abuse of power in religious environments, and what can be done about it. Personally, I've lost my faith over things like this, and I think the whole evangelical package is so corrupt and harmful that it's completely irredeemable. It angers me that Emmanuel Church still exists with many of the same leaders, the Iwerne camps continue to take place, and the trust that runs them hasn't done anywhere near enough to accept responsibility and compensate victims, who have been absolutely ruined by Smyth's perverted violence.
I very rarely give books five stars, but this one is a deserving case, because very rarely are stories like this told, and it's very important that they are. It's left me thinking about a lot of my own experiences, and what I should do to ensure that no-one goes through the same things that I have.
Anyway, in 2019, it became commonly known that Fletcher had been involved in some very disturbing spiritual and physical abuse, humiliating and sexually assaulting young men he was responsible for mentoring. The whole business has been appallingly handled, and Fletcher has so far largely escaped justice. The revelations that have come out of the church strongly indicate that he spent years building systems that would leave him free to abuse, and he maintained loyalty and silence through what was effectively a reign of terror. I think there's much we don't know about what he did as yet, and I fear he'll take that information to his grave, as so far he's been completely unrepentant and refused to co-operate with any enquiries into his disgusting behaviour. It's left me very angry indeed - I was a loyal member of his congregation, who gave a lot of time, money and effort to the church at a time when I had a lot of problems of my own to deal with. I was never directly abused by Fletcher, but I now recognise that his supposed "benign dictatorship", which was often joked about, was a literal reign of terror as far as many young men were concerned. I feel that people like me, who attended the church in good faith and believed in what it was doing, have been taken for mugs and used as human shields, as Fletcher publically condemned homosexuality and sex outside marriage, while privately indulging in some very sick and twisted sexually-motivated abuse.
Anyway, much of the media coverage of the Fletcher case turned the spotlight onto Iwerne camps, and someone Fletcher and his brother, also a minister, clearly knew well - John Smyth. This man was a well-known barrister who in the seventies was involved in a number of high profile cases relating to public morals, often campaigning and fighting alongside Mary Whitehouse. He was a well-known "family values" campaigner with a very uncompromising evangelical faith. He was involved in the Iwerne camps for many years, and it also transpired that he was fond of literally beating the living daylights out of the young boys he befriended and mentored. This went on for some years in the UK, and when he was found out in 1982, the Iwerne leadership tried to hush up the whole thing, silence the victims, and enable Smyth to quietly leave the country. He moved to Zimbabwe, where he started running similar camps - the abuse got even worse, and a 14-year-old boy died on a camp in 1992.
Sadly, Smyth died in 2018 without ever facing justice. Channel 4 broke the story in 2017 and confronted Smyth, but no police action was taken before his death in South Africa. The suffering of his victims has been absolutely horrendous.
This book tells the whole sorry tale of what Smyth did, why he did it, how the story emerged, and the terrible injustices, collusions, mistakes and missed opportunities that followed. Jonathan Fletcher's own abuses are also touched upon, as they come from the same culture, and were allowed to happen because of a very particular set of beliefs, and the idea that the Gospel must never be brought into disrepute.
The author deserves hearty thanks for bringing this awful tale to light, and for telling the story of the unfortunate victims of Smyth. The graphic descriptions of the abuse they suffered is extremely disturbing, and made my skin crawl. Smyth used brutal grooming and manipulation techniques to terrify his victims into silence, picking on vulnerable young men who he beat viciously in a soundproofed shed in his large garden. He even kept nappies in there for them to wear afterwards, to contain the blood. He was free to abuse for at least twenty years, while leadership of the Iwerne camps dithered and ignored the pleas of victims for help.
This was a hard book to read, as I've had my own extremely negative experiences in church, although they were nowhere near as bad as this. Unfortunately there's much I recognise here, as the particular form of uncompromising evangelical theology, combined with public school culture and an authoritarian atmosphere, creates an environment in which abuse is almost inevitable. You can't believe the sorts of things these people believe about God without it making a terrible mess somewhere.
The author looks at the life of the founder of the Iwerne camps, Eric Nash, and his life was an odd one. There were so many warning signs that were missed, and his huge influence and strange lifestyle ended up being replicated over many generations. There's no doubt whatsoever that abuse got ingrained into Iwerne culture, and this has got a foothold throughout the more conservative parts of the Church of England.
This book is a hugely important read for anyone concerned about abuse of power in religious environments, and what can be done about it. Personally, I've lost my faith over things like this, and I think the whole evangelical package is so corrupt and harmful that it's completely irredeemable. It angers me that Emmanuel Church still exists with many of the same leaders, the Iwerne camps continue to take place, and the trust that runs them hasn't done anywhere near enough to accept responsibility and compensate victims, who have been absolutely ruined by Smyth's perverted violence.
I very rarely give books five stars, but this one is a deserving case, because very rarely are stories like this told, and it's very important that they are. It's left me thinking about a lot of my own experiences, and what I should do to ensure that no-one goes through the same things that I have.
October 25, 2022
Back in the 1930s, a clergyman named Eric Nash decided that what the country needed was more evangelisation of the upper classes. They would all give their lives to Christ and come to rule the country, and hence all their goodness would trickle down to the unwashed masses and Britain would be a properly Christian nation, huzzah. To that end a series of camps were instituted, mostly set in the Dorset village of Iwerne (pronounced “you-urn”) and aimed exclusively at public schoolboys, which still run to this day. It was all very muscular Christianity, majoring heavily on the utter depravity of humanity and the extreme physical suffering of Jesus to atone for it, so be grateful and believe in him, you ungrateful bastards! Nash was evidently a humourless zealot, though lauded as a saint in certain quarters, and the camps sound pretty ghastly.
But, they persisted. Justin Welby is an alumnus; so am I. They were much less ghastly by the time I started going in the mid-80s, though even then I was questioning the exclusively public school (and male) bias, and it wasn’t too hard to stop going.
Problem: in the days before proper safeguarding, they were pretty well a safe haven for people who liked to do things other than evangelise to boys, and the worst offender was one John Smyth. He was a high flying QC, a moral paragon – he acted for Mary Whitehouse in the Gay News blasphemy trial – and he had a taste for beating young men until they bled (hence the title of the book), and somehow making them feel grateful for the privilege. I mean, they kept coming back, of their own volition.
To their credit, once the camp leaders realised what was happening, he was barred. To their discredit, they did nothing so vulgar as tell the police or offer help to his victims, in case the bad publicity damaged the sacred mission of the camps. He was encouraged instead to leave the country, meaning that he just exported his practices to Zimbabwe and South Africa. All this only came to light a few years ago, in an effort spearheaded by Channel 4 and the author of this book.
It’s harrowing stuff, and some of the people named in the running of the camps were still around when I was there. However, I will also say that in the two or three camps I attended I learned a great deal to my benefit and they helped me get my head screwed on right as a Christian. Part of that was the ability to sift and filter and, you know, question. But I must also face up to the fact that I have been taught good stuff by people who effectively colluded in bad stuff.
The book is not without flaws. It could have been much better edited and not all the piecing together of facts makes sense, though the author is convinced it does. It makes the classic error of saying “X was taught Y, therefore X believes Y,” when in fact X is perfectly capable of making up their own mind. Justin Welby did, and so did I.
But, they persisted. Justin Welby is an alumnus; so am I. They were much less ghastly by the time I started going in the mid-80s, though even then I was questioning the exclusively public school (and male) bias, and it wasn’t too hard to stop going.
Problem: in the days before proper safeguarding, they were pretty well a safe haven for people who liked to do things other than evangelise to boys, and the worst offender was one John Smyth. He was a high flying QC, a moral paragon – he acted for Mary Whitehouse in the Gay News blasphemy trial – and he had a taste for beating young men until they bled (hence the title of the book), and somehow making them feel grateful for the privilege. I mean, they kept coming back, of their own volition.
To their credit, once the camp leaders realised what was happening, he was barred. To their discredit, they did nothing so vulgar as tell the police or offer help to his victims, in case the bad publicity damaged the sacred mission of the camps. He was encouraged instead to leave the country, meaning that he just exported his practices to Zimbabwe and South Africa. All this only came to light a few years ago, in an effort spearheaded by Channel 4 and the author of this book.
It’s harrowing stuff, and some of the people named in the running of the camps were still around when I was there. However, I will also say that in the two or three camps I attended I learned a great deal to my benefit and they helped me get my head screwed on right as a Christian. Part of that was the ability to sift and filter and, you know, question. But I must also face up to the fact that I have been taught good stuff by people who effectively colluded in bad stuff.
The book is not without flaws. It could have been much better edited and not all the piecing together of facts makes sense, though the author is convinced it does. It makes the classic error of saying “X was taught Y, therefore X believes Y,” when in fact X is perfectly capable of making up their own mind. Justin Welby did, and so did I.
January 11, 2022
‘‘A Christian barrister and moral crusader who viciously caned young men in his garden shed.An exclusive network of powerful men seeking control in the Church of England.
A shared secret of abuse that casts a dark shadow over a whole generation of Christian leaders’’
Bleeding for Jesus is a harrowing account and only serves as a stark reminder of the corruption, indoctrination, and rampant homophobia that exists in the Church of England. John Smyth’s reign of ritualistic beatings, sexual abuse, gaslighting, and manipulation of young impressionable men surpassed 30 years and only really came to light due to Jimmy Saville’s heinous reign also being uncovered. However you look at it, this was an institutionalised cover-up by the church, its ministers, priests, and any other bible basher you can think of. It’s about time this archaic organised religion ceased to exist, and you can guarantee this indoctrination is still going on. As of July 2021, the church promised to publish a report about the Iwerne Trust and the findings of its cover-up. As of January 2022, no such report has been seen.
This is the extraordinary true story of John Smyth QC, a high-flying barrister who used his role in the church to abuse more than a hundred men and boys in three countries. It tells how he was spirited out of the UK, and how he played the role of a moral crusader to evade justice over four decades. It reveals how scores of respected church leaders turned a blind eye to his history of abuse.
Thanks to Private Eye Magazine for making me aware of this book and the failings of C.O.E
Contact survivingchurch.org for help, support, and more information.
A shared secret of abuse that casts a dark shadow over a whole generation of Christian leaders’’
Bleeding for Jesus is a harrowing account and only serves as a stark reminder of the corruption, indoctrination, and rampant homophobia that exists in the Church of England. John Smyth’s reign of ritualistic beatings, sexual abuse, gaslighting, and manipulation of young impressionable men surpassed 30 years and only really came to light due to Jimmy Saville’s heinous reign also being uncovered. However you look at it, this was an institutionalised cover-up by the church, its ministers, priests, and any other bible basher you can think of. It’s about time this archaic organised religion ceased to exist, and you can guarantee this indoctrination is still going on. As of July 2021, the church promised to publish a report about the Iwerne Trust and the findings of its cover-up. As of January 2022, no such report has been seen.
This is the extraordinary true story of John Smyth QC, a high-flying barrister who used his role in the church to abuse more than a hundred men and boys in three countries. It tells how he was spirited out of the UK, and how he played the role of a moral crusader to evade justice over four decades. It reveals how scores of respected church leaders turned a blind eye to his history of abuse.
Thanks to Private Eye Magazine for making me aware of this book and the failings of C.O.E
Contact survivingchurch.org for help, support, and more information.
April 30, 2025
Revelations!
This book shook me to the core and I felt as if I was back in London at HTB and St Mark's Battersea Rise. I had once met Justin Welby at the Colman's estate and they were whispering about him being destined for great things. At the time I thought he seemed an insignificant man and wondered about the prediction. Names leapt out at me eg Nicky Gumbel, who didn't develop the Alpha course it was actually Raymond Turvey a previous vicar at HTB. I did an Alpha course directed by John Irvine, who was not a likeable person. Jamie and Sue (not Susie) Colman were my Bible study leaders. They were not spiteful and judgemental like some of the other leaders but I didn't think Jamie was very bright. Now finding out that he was mentored by Smyth his character is more easily understood. I was always an outsider, Australian single mother and I was treated as a lower class person and I did feel oppressed by the determined elitism. I began to question why we weren't helping the poor, as in homeless and I was told that I was the poor. There was a shameless manipulation of people wanting to marry and being told who they couldn't marry. In the end I was pushed out and for 8 years suffered from being rejected. I'm now thankful that I managed to escape by dint of my character that didn't want to be told what to do. All these years later I met up with my old flatmate. Without even enquiring about my current frame of beliefs she accused me of being rebellious. She is now an esteemed leader in another church and definitely a 'good person' but too well-schooled in the basic tenets of keeping cult members in line.
This book shook me to the core and I felt as if I was back in London at HTB and St Mark's Battersea Rise. I had once met Justin Welby at the Colman's estate and they were whispering about him being destined for great things. At the time I thought he seemed an insignificant man and wondered about the prediction. Names leapt out at me eg Nicky Gumbel, who didn't develop the Alpha course it was actually Raymond Turvey a previous vicar at HTB. I did an Alpha course directed by John Irvine, who was not a likeable person. Jamie and Sue (not Susie) Colman were my Bible study leaders. They were not spiteful and judgemental like some of the other leaders but I didn't think Jamie was very bright. Now finding out that he was mentored by Smyth his character is more easily understood. I was always an outsider, Australian single mother and I was treated as a lower class person and I did feel oppressed by the determined elitism. I began to question why we weren't helping the poor, as in homeless and I was told that I was the poor. There was a shameless manipulation of people wanting to marry and being told who they couldn't marry. In the end I was pushed out and for 8 years suffered from being rejected. I'm now thankful that I managed to escape by dint of my character that didn't want to be told what to do. All these years later I met up with my old flatmate. Without even enquiring about my current frame of beliefs she accused me of being rebellious. She is now an esteemed leader in another church and definitely a 'good person' but too well-schooled in the basic tenets of keeping cult members in line.
March 12, 2022
Wow. Just....wow. I am still trying to process the gravity of all that I read. Graystone has given us a very well researched and detailed analysis of just how John Smyth was able to get away with his atrocities for so long. The cover ups, the sham investigations, the evasiveness of pushing this "attic matter" to anyone else, just so the higher elite could wash their hands of this messy business led to a trickle down effect with ramifications that are still being felt as I write this. They all have blame in this. The victims, on the other hand, I have nothing but empathy for. Their strength and courage in trying to overcome the abuse inflicted upon them, the severity of which is unparalleled to my knowledge, is quite remarkable. This was not an easy read, but I continued on because I felt that those who were abused had the right to be heard in what had happened to them, that they were no longer being ignored or shut out, in all it's devastating horror. I applaud Graystone for moving forward, even when the church washed their hands of this and decided to do nothing, that Graystone knew and acted on the injustice that he was aware of needed to be dealt with. I am also sad for the victims that they didn't get justice for what happened to them, nor got to face their abuser and confront him with the truth of his actions and consequences. Nevertheless, their story has finally come to light and John Smyth has been exposed. I am truly sorry that this happened to all of them.
*I received a copy of this book from NetGalley. This review is my own opinion*
*I received a copy of this book from NetGalley. This review is my own opinion*
January 2, 2022
Such a heartbreaking story. I had never heard of John Smyth before, and as a sexual abuse survivor myself, I wanted to honor the Smyth survivors by learning their stories and hearing their voices.
My overall rating for this book is a 3.5 - the story is gripping, heartbreaking, and infuriating. For that reason I eagerly read through the sometimes dense and detail-crammed plot. There were so many names - so many names of church members (some never mentioned again throughout the work) that I quickly became overwhelmed. When the book took a more name-droppy route, I admit I skimmed those portions. The different church branches coupled with the countless names made for an overwhelming overshadowing to the overall story.
I also found the non-linear timeline frustrating. I feel we jumped from 2013 to 2017 and back to 2014. It was a lot to keep track of throughout the text.
Overall I enjoyed this work. I’m thankful that the author took the time to listen to victims and learn their stories.
My overall rating for this book is a 3.5 - the story is gripping, heartbreaking, and infuriating. For that reason I eagerly read through the sometimes dense and detail-crammed plot. There were so many names - so many names of church members (some never mentioned again throughout the work) that I quickly became overwhelmed. When the book took a more name-droppy route, I admit I skimmed those portions. The different church branches coupled with the countless names made for an overwhelming overshadowing to the overall story.
I also found the non-linear timeline frustrating. I feel we jumped from 2013 to 2017 and back to 2014. It was a lot to keep track of throughout the text.
Overall I enjoyed this work. I’m thankful that the author took the time to listen to victims and learn their stories.
November 16, 2024
Meticulous and searching account of the case, both familiarly English and very disorientating.
Not really sure what the most disorientating part is. It’s tempting to conclude that “no one believes any of this sh*t”, and culture is whatever binds a group into a conspiracy. Christian morality and dogma will do it, private language will do it, shame will do it, even covering up abuse will do it.
If the conspirators haven’t got some expansive project to engage in, and a function for their culture (nation-building, space travel, war), culture becomes a thing for-itself, incestuous, collapsing inwards, and people shrivel into characters like Smyth or the rest of the Iwerne clique.
It’s well known that you can’t get values from facts, but perhaps neither can you get actions from values. The task has to have a transcendent origin. Like going to Mars, or building Christendom.
If you do have such a project then .. is there no corruption or abuse?
Not really sure what the most disorientating part is. It’s tempting to conclude that “no one believes any of this sh*t”, and culture is whatever binds a group into a conspiracy. Christian morality and dogma will do it, private language will do it, shame will do it, even covering up abuse will do it.
If the conspirators haven’t got some expansive project to engage in, and a function for their culture (nation-building, space travel, war), culture becomes a thing for-itself, incestuous, collapsing inwards, and people shrivel into characters like Smyth or the rest of the Iwerne clique.
It’s well known that you can’t get values from facts, but perhaps neither can you get actions from values. The task has to have a transcendent origin. Like going to Mars, or building Christendom.
If you do have such a project then .. is there no corruption or abuse?
October 22, 2021
Thank you to NetGalley for sending me a digital copy of this book. This is a thoroughly researched book about the horrible physical abuse of young men and boys, spanning at least 3 decades and 3 different countries. Multiple crimes were committed. First, the actual abuses of these men and boys, but then the actual cover up by countless people in the church and the Iwerne Trust, which then became the Titus Trust.
This was a painful read because of the multiple abuses and lack of motivation to report said abuses from leaders in the church. Definite trigger warnings. The book overall, was an amazing read. Amazing in the sense that I just couldn't believe how long the abuse continued.
This was a painful read because of the multiple abuses and lack of motivation to report said abuses from leaders in the church. Definite trigger warnings. The book overall, was an amazing read. Amazing in the sense that I just couldn't believe how long the abuse continued.
January 17, 2022
For anyone with ties to, or involvement in, any part of the Christian church this is a deeply disturbing read. Nonetheless it is an important, maybe vital, read for those with any responsibility whether pastoral or governance or in youth & children's work.
The pervasive and perverse actions of Smyth should put all on their guard - and the inaction and ineptitude of those with any form of with oversight should incite others to always, always to do the right thing and to insist that others do as well.
The pervasive and perverse actions of Smyth should put all on their guard - and the inaction and ineptitude of those with any form of with oversight should incite others to always, always to do the right thing and to insist that others do as well.
January 25, 2023
Very insightful and a must read for everyone
This book is very detailed and quite gruesome in places but completely necessary to reveal to extent of the abuse the victims suffered at the time. All the connections are well researched and brought up to the modern day. The psychological angle of how such abuse goes unreported for a very long time is also researched in depth. The survival of such cults to our modern day and their resistance to change should be a warning to us all.
This book is very detailed and quite gruesome in places but completely necessary to reveal to extent of the abuse the victims suffered at the time. All the connections are well researched and brought up to the modern day. The psychological angle of how such abuse goes unreported for a very long time is also researched in depth. The survival of such cults to our modern day and their resistance to change should be a warning to us all.
December 9, 2024
Eye opening
What I found difficult to understand is why it was ok 40 years ago think that sending a man to the former Rhodesia was banishment.
There are so many unanswered questions.
As an Anglican, I continue to marvel at the breadth and range of formation within the church.
No mention of JJ Smyths Plymouth Brethren background was made.
What I found difficult to understand is why it was ok 40 years ago think that sending a man to the former Rhodesia was banishment.
There are so many unanswered questions.
As an Anglican, I continue to marvel at the breadth and range of formation within the church.
No mention of JJ Smyths Plymouth Brethren background was made.
January 25, 2022
This is a heartbreaking, well detailed account of investigation and deception. It’s an interesting and analytical look into John Smyths case, and is a true crime book with an obvious amount of time put into it.
December 26, 2024
Required reading for Church of England members. The scandal that brought down the Archbishop of Canterbury. How the hierarchy covered up rabid moraliser John Smyth's sadistic abuse of boys many of whom went on to be clergy and are priests and bishops.
January 21, 2022
Really important and essential that this story was told. I just wish the book was better.
January 24, 2022
This isn't really a book that you enjoy reading because the details are so shocking. It's an horrific study in abuse but also how not to respond in the face of allegations of abuse.
January 8, 2023
Hard reading but needed to be read. Could only manage small chunks at a time in the interests of my own well-being.
November 5, 2021
A tough, challenging but hugely important read. A reminder that the most important consideration in any abuse is the welfare of the survivors andhow easy it is for those in authority to seek to preseerve the good name of the organization of which they are a part or their own legacy. There is also the important question of how much impact poor and dogmatic theology can have on the way we behave and can lead to abuse of power and abuse of the weak. A vital read for any in church leadership.
September 9, 2025
Graystone tackles an abhorrent 'cesspit' (my term) of abusers and their acolytes whose scandalous abuse of primarily public school (private school) teenage males in the UK, and across two countries in Africa rocked the Church of England to its core, ultimately leading to the resignation of Archbishop Welby. John Smyth is the focus of this meticulously detailed account, however the core hierarchy of the Anglican Church, and attendant powerful members are not spared. A spotlight is shone upon the self serving role of the Iwerne Camps, and some of Britain's top ranked schools and universities in securing prime positions in the Anglican Church, maintaining the primacy of establishment figures.
This work ought to be required reading by members of the clergy, Safeguarding Officers, and Trustees across Christian denominations. However, its detailed accounting of the violence perpetrated against innocent minors is gut wrenching. I cannot stress how distressing is this content, and much as I dislike 'trigger warnings' I have no hesitation inserting one. The protection of John Smyth and his ilk is a travesty which law enforcement professionals ought to be aware.
This work ought to be required reading by members of the clergy, Safeguarding Officers, and Trustees across Christian denominations. However, its detailed accounting of the violence perpetrated against innocent minors is gut wrenching. I cannot stress how distressing is this content, and much as I dislike 'trigger warnings' I have no hesitation inserting one. The protection of John Smyth and his ilk is a travesty which law enforcement professionals ought to be aware.
April 18, 2025
I developed an interest in this book some years back as I used to attend a church which had close ties to evangelical-leaning churches under the Church of England. Conveniently, it came in handy as I ended up being involved in some sexual abuse advocacy work linked to some a former secondary school club of mine.
One of the winning points of this book is that it presents a clear narrative of the Smyth scandal from its nefarious beginnings right up until Smyth's death. Overall, I found the story easy to follow despite the many characters who were either involved in covering up Smyth's abuse or who were victims of Smyth, the number of years this scandal spanned over and, the various localities in which the abuse took place or cover-up meetings were held. Graystone is also a compelling storyteller in that he is able to bring readers into the pain of the victims and to evoke anger at the higher-ups who covered up Smyth's abuse for decades. On a more personal note, the boarding school boys described by Graystone in this book remind me of the stories my husband used to narrate to me about the Malay boarding school boys he encountered during his A-Level years: there appears to be a sense of these boys not being socially well-adjusted. Unsurprisingly, the boys my husband encountered came from elite Malay boarding schools which were modelled after the boarding schools in UK, many of which are the subjects in this book.
All-in-all, I would say this is a comprehensive narrative of the Smyth scandal that is worth reading.
My only gripe with this book is that Graystone did not cite his sources as extensively as I would have liked him to. While I personally believe that a lot of what was narrated in this book is true, I can imagine somebody (with less good faith) to question how much in this book is actually true given the lack of sources cited. That being said, I also understand why many of those interviewed by Graystone himself would not want to be cited as a source (for a variety of reasons).
One of the winning points of this book is that it presents a clear narrative of the Smyth scandal from its nefarious beginnings right up until Smyth's death. Overall, I found the story easy to follow despite the many characters who were either involved in covering up Smyth's abuse or who were victims of Smyth, the number of years this scandal spanned over and, the various localities in which the abuse took place or cover-up meetings were held. Graystone is also a compelling storyteller in that he is able to bring readers into the pain of the victims and to evoke anger at the higher-ups who covered up Smyth's abuse for decades. On a more personal note, the boarding school boys described by Graystone in this book remind me of the stories my husband used to narrate to me about the Malay boarding school boys he encountered during his A-Level years: there appears to be a sense of these boys not being socially well-adjusted. Unsurprisingly, the boys my husband encountered came from elite Malay boarding schools which were modelled after the boarding schools in UK, many of which are the subjects in this book.
All-in-all, I would say this is a comprehensive narrative of the Smyth scandal that is worth reading.
My only gripe with this book is that Graystone did not cite his sources as extensively as I would have liked him to. While I personally believe that a lot of what was narrated in this book is true, I can imagine somebody (with less good faith) to question how much in this book is actually true given the lack of sources cited. That being said, I also understand why many of those interviewed by Graystone himself would not want to be cited as a source (for a variety of reasons).
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