‘Learn to do better’ by assault survivors
I’m going to ask you to do something difficult.
Put yourself in the shoes of the woman who came forward to accuse a Republican Congressional candidate of assaulting her.
She did not want to go to police. She also did not want to see Thomas Gilmer in contention for one of the most influential positions of power in our nation.
It’s an extreme version of a scenario victim advocates face daily. I spoke to several independently, yet kept hearing common echoes.
⏩ “Sometimes survivors don’t want the person to be arrested, they just want the abuse to stop.”
⏩ “Ensure the survivor has control.”
⏩ “Don’t make decisions for them.”
⏩ “Don’t put them in a spotlight they didn’t ask for.”
And this one, the consequence of not empowering survivors.
⏩ “Domestic violence is the most under-reported crime in the country.”
Gilmer was accused of an incident that dated back three years. Gilmer’s accuser made the decision to approach his political rival, Justin Anderson, shortly before the May 11 state GOP convention.
Here’s where it gets messy.
Part of the burden of being a party leader is having to vet rumors and accusations. This accuser came to Anderson with a video of the alleged attack.
She had one goal in making this tortured decision: Keep Gilmer off the ballot. Anderson told our reporters she feared for her safety. He approached party chair J.R. Romano, who was stuck with a tormented decision of his own.
He chose to challenge Gilmer with the accusation. While it always seems just to offer the accused a shovel to dig out of a hole, Romano also drew a dotted line connecting the accuser and the accused, without law enforcement as a buffer. Now Gilmer knew about the accusation.
Advocates routinely have to diagram potential risks for survivors. Going to police is just one road they can take, but there are potential perils on every path. These include further battery and even death, as 16 percent of U.S. homicides are the result of intimate partner abuse.
Romano was trapped. Anderson was trapped. The survivor was trapped. The accusation languished as party members — presumably unaware — rewarded Gilmer with their endorsement at the convention.
Susan Hatfield, vice chair of the state GOP, responded to our recent editorial criticizing the party’s actions in the matter with an op-ed. Hatfield is in a particularly difficult position, as she not only has worked with domestic violence survivors as a nurse, but is currently a state prosecutor, and thus, a mandated reporter. She says she knew nothing of the accusation until Gilmer was arrested the night before the Aug. 11 primary.
Romano seems to think he had no options. But his hands were neither handcuffed, nor clean.
He not only should have stopped the candidacy on moral grounds, he should have tried to do so for political reasons. Risking a candidate being publicly accused during an election period is just bad politics.
Romano’s mistake was in believing he had no power. The contradiction is that he magically granted himself too much of it. He should not have taken on this decision himself. A party chair is primarily a fund-raiser. He should have brought the matter to the 76-member Republican State Central Committee. Let them make a decision on the candidates. Ultimately, they did at the convention by backing Gilmer, but without knowledge of the accusation.
Since Gilmer landed on the ballot as the party’s preferred candidate, his accuser was stranded. This is how survivors become further victimized. After two months, with the primary approaching, she went to police July 22 with the video.
Theoretically, had Gilmer’s candidacy been stopped before the convention, his accuser would not have gone to police. Police in Wethersfield — site of the alleged incident — investigated and arrested Gilmer the night before the primary. Instead of spending those hours on feverish last-minute campaigning, he was charged with second-degree strangulation and first-degree unlawful restraint. Police describe a brutal attack on the video, including multiple punches to the face as well as a chokehold.
Gilmer is innocent until proven guilty, but presumed innocence must never come with a ticket that could win entrance to Congress, where, among so much else, assault laws are determined.
The party certainly faces challenges finding strong candidates to take on the likes of Joe Courtney, who has held the 2nd U.S. House district seat for 13 years. That’s no excuse for getting careless during the vetting process. Gilmer was a lousy candidate anyway, with a history of promoting QAnon conspiracy theories.
As I consulted assault advocates Friday, there was a thread of empathy for Romano being forced to address vexing decisions. Party chairs don’t sign up for this.
Karen Jarmoc, chief executive officer of the Connecticut Coalition Against Domestic Violence, concluded our conversation as a voice of reason. Romano resisted calls from prominent Republicans throughout the state for him to resign, notably from House Minority Leader Themis Klarides and Deputy Minority Leader Kevin Witkos.
Jarmoc posits that while her agency (and others like it), do not by practice weigh in on calls for resignations, having Romano step down “does not solve anything.”
“The important thing is to learn to do better,” she says.
That starts with having candid discussions within both parties about what to do if similar circumstances occur in the future (because they will).
I’d suggest having an independent body deconstruct the party’s actions in this case. Potential candidates need to count on facing scrutiny. Voters, especially party members, must be able to trust the vetting processes of our nation’s two major political parties.
There is no crystal ball for people facing decisions like Romano did. But there is a voice to tune into. A voice that holds the potential to transform anyone from a bystander to an ally. A voice the advocates I spoke with each summoned with three words:
“Hear the survivor.”