December 15th 2003:Domestic Violence, Crime and Victims Bill Second Reading
My Lords, there is a city in this country about which some serious research has been done on levels of domestic violence and the effect of that violence on children. The statistics make grim reading. They are: of the 90 per cent of recorded instances of domestic violence which took place in family units over two years, 1,100 children were involved.
It takes little imagination to see what devastating effects witnessing violence might have upon those children. I refer to the sense of powerlessness among young boys, unable to protect their mothers from their violent fathers and stepfathers—an anger which has to be dealt with in some way and which may well result in themselves becoming violent in adolescence and adulthood—and the same sense of powerlessness among young girls which may then become internalised and gnaw away at their own self-esteem.
If in two years in one English city there were 1,100 children caught up in domestic violence, and one multiplies that figure by the number of cities in the UK, thousands of children would be seriously damaged by all that they see and hear. I concentrate on the children because they are the hidden victims whose voice is rarely heard. I welcome the fact that Her Majesty's Government are going to ensure that the Minister for Children will be involved in monitoring some parts of the progress of this Bill and its implementations.
I also focus on children because at this time of year they are at the forefront of our attention. But so also is one of the causes of domestic violence, which is alcohol. Millions of pounds will be spent in trying to persuade us to enjoy ourselves and that that enjoyment can be associated only with alcohol. So the numbers of people getting "wasted", "trashed" or whatever phrase one wishes to use, will be huge. I speak as one who from time to time has drunks throwing up over my front doorstep. I can assure noble Lords that Bishops now live a very long way from the sweet calm of Barchester.
If we could persuade the brewing industry that the amount of money spent on trying to persuade us to drink should be matched by a similar amount devoted to trying to educate young men especially about how to drink sensibly, we might get somewhere. It is reported that between 5 and 10 per cent of all calls to Childline mention alcohol as a serious problem.
However, I want to suggest that within all the domestic violence that goes on there is also a profound spiritual malaise. If I am abusive or violent towards others or indeed towards myself, it suggests that I have no concept of my or the other person's inherent worth. It means that I do not regard myself or the other person as in any sense being made—as the Judaeo-Christian tradition would express it—in the image of God. So, I do not see myself coming from God, being surrounded by God or at death going towards God. Therefore, many of us are alienated in the profoundest way from our own inherent dignity and alienated from that worth, which in my view is conferred upon us by God as creator. That alienation is then expressed in cries of anguish.
I simply do not know how intervention at the spiritual level in domestic violence can be achieved. I recognise, of course, what the Probation Service and social services try to do, and what they do heroically, in running group-work programmes, for example, for the perpetrators of domestic violence. I recognise also that intervention has to be multi-agency, but I wonder whether the Churches and other faith groups might be bracketed in to such work rather than being bracketed out. It is not that in such activities the Churches would engage in evangelism or proselytism—not at all—but they could and should be included as pastors and reminders that the spiritual elements associated with domestic violence may require as much attention as other elements. To convert—I use the word advisedly—from one form of living in which violence is the norm to another in which violence is abjured requires enormous moral and spiritual courage.
I know that in some areas, churches are already involved in those issues through the provision of women's refuges and housing for the homeless, offering counselling and advice and our work in prisons. There are people and churches working absolutely at the front line and I hope that the Government will consult them.
I carry in my mind an image that will always stay with me. It was a dark autumnal night when I answered my front door and found a woman standing there with her anorak hood pulled over her face so that I could not see it. She was supported by two women friends. I had no idea who she was, but her friends said that she was desperate to speak to me, so I invited her in. It was 20 minutes before she brought back her anorak hood to reveal her face. Her face was black and blue; it was cut; it was bruised; it was shiny with lumps; and she had some teeth missing. She was a battered human being who wanted just for a moment to touch not only a physical place of safety but a pastoral and spiritual place of safety as well.
As we strive to understand the causes of violence, please let us not forget what volunteer organisations and faith communities already do to try to address those causes. As we, rightly, strive to offer compassion to the victims, please can we have some joined-up thinking that recognises that words such as "healing" and "wholeness" have a rich and long-standing religious, spiritual and human content?
No matter how well meaning and brilliant our law may be—I am among those who welcome this courageous Bill—there are deeper issues that we as a society need to allow to surface on our social language map if we are to make any headway in tackling that grave social problem.
