We Should Intervene If We Suspect Domestic Abuse

telegraph.co.uk

You see a well-known husband and wife outside a London café. The husband clutches his wife’s neck tightly with one hand, while holding a cigarette in the other. The wife is visibly distressed and in tears, leaving the restraint after the incident. Would you intervene?

You might have recognize this scenario, as a reference to celebrity couple Charles Saatchi and Nigella Lawson, the former whose public display of violence has recently made national headlines. And while Lawson involuntarily becomes the poster figure to highlight domestic abuse, it seems that Deputy Prime Minister Nick Clegg has also landed in hot water, finding himself conveyed by both Tory and Labour figures as misogyny incarnate. When asked whether he would have intervened on his radio show last Thursday, Clegg replied;

“I don’t know whether that was just a fleeting thing…or…I’m at a loss to be able to put myself in to that position without knowing exactly.” As a result of this hesitation, he was criticised for both his lack of leadership, and a failure to “understand domestic violence toward women”.

I’d like to say I would act differently. After all, I’ve heard numerous stories regarding disgusting acts of abuse involving members of my own extended family. Yet in the back of my mind, I wonder if I’d have the courage to intervene in such situations, particularly those I’m personally separated from. While it’s certainly easy to make moral judgments while sitting in armchairs (or in this case, behind computer screens), practicing such virtues are another matter entirely.

Statistics gathered by the Home Office indicate that  around 1.2 million women were subject to some form of physical or sexual abuse in the past year. More harrowing was that in all these cases, only 1 in 10 reported them to the police.

From the few victims that have been willing to speak out in public, most had a similar story; partners who would gradually become more abusive as their relationships went on, starting off through verbal and psychological attacks, before becoming more frequently physical. The majority of this abuse would go on behind closed doors, for the protection of the private home not only shields abusers from the public eye- it also renders the victim powerless, ashamed and more often than not, silent.

Certainly, this is challenging to those who suspect these abuses are taking place- something that perpetrators are more than happy to exploit. However, there is a deeper cultural issue at hand; where we exist in a society still heavily rooted in individualism, the concerns of others- particularly in private realms, usually remains a secondary concern. As such, even if we may wish to intervene many of us are likely to second guess our decisions, wondering if it’s really our place to take action in what might be perceived as ‘domestic disputes’. After all, what if our good intentions are met with violent retaliation or worse, denial? How can victims of abuse be helped if they also protect their partners?

The unfortunate outcome of such rationalisations only results in more vulnerable people unable to attain help, especially if unlike Lawson, they are seen as less newsworthy by photographers and tabloid journalists. Indeed, the price of our decision not to intervene in potentially violent domestic disputes only perpetuates the cycle of abuse inflicted onto hundreds, if not thousands of women every year.

The Lawson case is remarkable, purely on the grounds that the photographer did in fact ‘intervene’ in a way where neither party could deny what was taking place. Even as Saatchi attempted to neutralise the situation by accepting a lackluster police caution, making the images of Saatchi’s abuse public allowed for the problem to be highlighted visually, shocking those of us who had only read of such incidents.

But let’s remember the thousands of victims who don’t have photographers following them- whose abusers won’t be publicly shamed into defeat. In fact more likely than not, they will be able to get away with their crimes, even if their partners leave them. Only through creating a social consensus in which the balance between a private life and communal concerns are readdressed, can the resources necessary for the safety victims of abuse be available. While it’s certainly true that local government shouldn't be cutting funding to womens' refuges and domestic abuse charities, confronting the issue begins with a tough acknowledgement; regardless of our hesitance, we should be more willing to intervene if we believe that the most vulnerable in society are being abused or exploited.

While it might be easy to remain in a state of ignorant bliss, disregarding the problem only makes us complicit in the actions of abusers. Lawson’s case makes clear that violent abuse can happen to anyone. Surely with this in mind, it’s all the more important to bring those guilty of such deplorable acts to justice.