It’s time to stop blaming the victims of domestic violence
Police and courts must do more to protect women from abusers, says Holly Campbell.
On Dec. 6, 1989, a man went on a shooting rampage at École Polytechnique, and 14 women died.
Since that day, the killing of women in Canada has continued. Thousands of Indigenous women are missing or murdered and, presently, a woman is killed by her partner every six days in Canada.
Until we collectively shift our focus from judging women toward fixing what’s broken, people will continue to die at alarming rates.
We hear in the news about mass shootings, murder-suicides and femicide so often, it seems there’s an established history of domestic violence.
What prevents us from stopping violence from escalating once it’s on the radar?
Many of us hear about domestic violence, but are quick to dismiss and blame victims. Perhaps out of psychological self-preservation, we look for some combination of factors about the victim that caused this to happen.
She grew up in an abusive home, struggled with drugs or alcohol. She was racialized, an immigrant, or Indigenous. She was poor. She overlooked “red flags.” She kept going back.
I know the routine, but now observe the steps when I share my own story — steeling myself for pointed questions that follow. Questions about what I did and didn’t do, not questions about him.
It’s discouraging how aggression towards women is discussed when tone and words imply that victims are responsible, or that women are lying because they made decisions under circumstances that we don’t understand.
Coverage of the Jian Ghomeshi trial and the instance of three Toronto police officers accused of sexual assault have been discussed at length in violence recovery groups. While coverage of the Amanda Lindhout kidnap trial was more compassionate (perhaps victims are more credible if they’re abducted and held for ransom in a faraway land), judgment and criticism of women in media and society are a strong deterrent to providing witness testimony.
Victims shudder when we hear of judges who ask: “Why didn’t she keep her legs together?” Or those who suggest she was flattered by the attention of the man who sexually assaulted her.
How many women have acquiesced to Crown proposals to withdraw charges against attackers or the making of plea deals to avoid further humiliation on the witness stand, and in the court of public opinion, drawn out over several years? I sure did.
The man on trial for the murder of three women near Wilno has a long history of violence, but on many occasions, charges were withdrawn and jail sentences reduced.
If we’re ever going to get ahead of this, we must recognize that the spectrum of coercion and control of women includes harassment at one end and lethal violence at the other. As a society, we must routinely reject the notion that some degrees of harassment and abuse “are common and relatively harmless.”
Then, we must demand accountability from our criminal justice system. Consistent application of police charging policies, consequences for breaching probation, monitoring compliance with court orders, notifying victims when attackers are released from jail, considering victim input when abusers apply to shorten restraining orders — all are measures that should be happening. But there are huge cracks in this system, I assure you.
Courts must be less enthusiastic about withdrawing charges or dramatically shortening sentences of the violent, and women need broader access to legal aid.
Most of these issues are the jurisdiction of provinces. However, the mandate letters of the federal ministers of justice and the status of women both commit to making progress for women. The change needed won’t happen without public pressure on elected officials.
By my calculation, eight more women will be gone by Christmas. What are each of us prepared to do in that time?