Modern-day slave trade

EVEN as exceptions that prove the rule go, the lapdancer’s tale was exceptional. American and moneyed, she had little in common with the other young women discovered providing the entertainment at a series of clubs raided in a special garda operation last year.

Sergeant Alan Bailey, a key member of Operation Quest, was taken aback by her explanation for working in a lapdancing club in Ireland when it would seem the world and its myriad job opportunities was her's for the asking. "She had spent her legacy and couldn't go home," he recalled.

The rest of the 100-plus dancers arrested that day fulfilled a sad stereotype. Among the 27 nationalities were 17 Estonians, 16 from the Czech Republic, 14 from Lithuania and nine from Hungary while others came from countries including Venezuela, Mexico, South Africa and Moldova.

"All came from poor areas. They were semi-literate with very little English. The clubs had funded their travel and they were collected at the point of arrival and driven to houses in the suburbs which they shared with others."

So far, the job spec was living up to expectations but, according to Sgt Bailey, they would get a rude awakening.

"Stories abound about the huge sums of money they can earn and some girls were sending large amounts of money home on a monthly basis. It appeared to be a very attractive life free travel, free accommodation, opportunities to make large sums of money in return for a minimal lowering of their moral standards.

"But the reality is totally different. They are totally dependent on the clubs. They are strangers in a strange land, controlled by and indebted to the clubs. The only way they made money was from private dances for customers and in some places we had under surveillance, dancers outnumbered customers four to one.

"The girls would each perform a dance in public in strict rotation and then the customer asked for a private dance in a partitioned area from his preferred girl.

"He would pay €25-€40 to the club for the privilege. The following night the girl was paid half. That was the only payment these girls received. In some cases, the club made a further deduction for "government tax."

Deductions were also made as "fines" for breaking club rules by, for example, being late for work, improper dress, socialising outside the club circle, being the subject of a complaint by a dissatisfied customer, switching to another club or, that most serious infringement of all, wanting to go home.

The extent of Ireland's role in the international sex trade is impossible to quantify. A clandestine business, it benefits from having no obvious goods to shift around, store or sell because the girls are the goods.

But it is estimated that every year between 700,000 and four million women and children are moved across international borders for what human rights lawyer, Suzanne Egan, describes as a "contemporary form of slavery."

Such movements, or trafficking, of people, whether it be for the sex industry, false marriages for visa scams, bonded labour, illegal adoptions or other forms of exploitation, are thought to be worth some $30 billion a year to this blackest of black economies.

"It ranks just behind the drugs trade and arms industry in terms of value," Ms Egan told a weekend conference organised by the Human Rights Unit of the Department of Foreign Affairs.

Proof that at least some of the proceeds are generated and enjoyed in Ireland comes not just from the successes of Sgt Bailey and his colleagues, but from the work of voluntary organisations such as Ruhama, which was set up 15 years ago to support women affected by prostitution.

Four years ago, as Ruhama's assistant director, Geraldine Rowley, explained, they began to notice a change in the type of women they were meeting.

"There were fewer older women on the streets and much more young women in brothels and flats, especially more and more non-nationals." The change in the location of the industry and its personnel presents particular difficulties for groups like Ruhama.

Working from brothels and private apartments, marketed and booked by internet and untraceable mobile phones, these non-national women have no links with the community, no one to notice their arrival or disappearance, and no one to care.

"It has become very much a hidden business," said Ms Rowley, who is aware of Dublin-based operations with 100% foreign girls. Their precarious legal status in this country makes them reluctant to seek help when things go wrong and this, Ms Rowley, believes, adds to the state of denial in Ireland about the problem.

"You can not provide services unless you acknowledge the sex industry but it's seen as legitimate work or entertainment. We have been very concerned about the growth of lapdancing clubs. They are billed as harmless fun and this only helps the traffickers."

Dr Helga Konrad of the Organisation for Security and Co-operation in Europe (OSCE) agrees society has to adjust its mindset. "Trafficking in women and children is a horrendous violation of human rights but what people usually have in mind are prostitutes, economic migrants, illegal aliens, illegal workers.

"What many people and authorities do not understand is that we are actually concerned with victims of a serious crime people who have been tricked, lured, coerced into situations where they are exposed to violence and exploitation.

"Trafficked women are frequently regarded as wrongdoers and criminals. They meet with little sympathy or support and the traffickers and their middle men, if they are prosecuted at all, are only charged with immigration offences or prostitution but never with infringement of human rights."

Ms Rowley can see how foreign sex workers get a bad press. She says their traffickers and pimps will often register them as asylum seekers, giving false information about their nationality and stories that quickly fail to pass scrutiny so that the women get a reputation for abusing the asylum process.

Another ploy, discovered by Sgt Bailey, is for clubs to register the girls as students. "One had even set up its own 'school'," he said.

Under Operation Quest's first outing, in June last year, ten clubs were raided in Cork, Limerick, Galway, Dublin and Dundalk and the homes of their managers, solicitors and accountants were searched. Over 1 million in cash was seized.

Sgt Bailey said "substantial" settlements had been reached with the

Revenue Commissioners, and prosecutions, under employment legislation and the Illegal Immigrants Trafficking Act of 2000, were ongoing. Three of the clubs have since closed.

Quest has since targeted other clubs and, more recently, has turned its attention to brothels. None of the women found in the clubs was subsequently prosecuted although Ms Rowley argued they were still penalised as they had little choice but to return home, where they first fell into the traffickers' hands.

Sgt Bailey said the policy of not prosecuting the women was in keeping with the ethos of Operation Quest, which dictated that they were to be treated as victims.

"Lapdancing is perceived by many as a victimless and harmless form of entertainment. We would totally disagree.

"It's just another facet of the sex industry. It's total exploitation."