|
.
My search results for Erin Pizzey. Very
interesting to see how the local newspapers have been pretty good, but the
Guardian and the Independent, who represent a tiny snotty minority, have been
obnoxious and adolescent, and it is they who pull the strings.
Sunday Express
January 20, 2002
SECTION: NEWS; Pg. 7
LENGTH: 292 words
HEADLINE: VETERAN FEMINIST ERIN IS REUNITED WITH LONG-LOST PAL
BYLINE: By Rebecca Mowling
BODY:
WOMEN'S campaigner Erin Pizzey has been reunited with her best friend
from
school for the first time since they were both pupils - 45 years ago.
They were brought together after veteran feminist Erin, founder of the
women's refuge movement, posted her details on the Friends Reunited
website.
Months later she received an e-mail from the daughter of her long-lost
school friend Kate Rae asking her to get in touch.
The pair were pupils at St Anthony's Lewesdon, a convent school, near
Sherborne, Dorset, in the 1950s but fell out soon after they left and
had no
contact with each other till yesterday.
Erin, a married mother of two who lives in Twickenham, said:
"When we left school at 17 my mother had cancer. Two days after
her death I
ran away to London where I was homeless.
"I had sent Kate a letter telling her if she didn't write back I
would never
speak to her again.
I've just found out that she did reply but I didn't get the letter
because I
had left home and we lost touch.
"I was so surprised when Kate's daughter Alice contacted me. I had
really
missed her and thought about her often."
Sitting together at Kate's home in Dorset the pair enjoyed tea and
cakes as
they talked about old times and their school days.
Kate added: "When I first saw her again she looked and sounded
exactly the
same. We were able to pick up where we left off, all the years simply
rolled
away.
"Over the years I have followed her career and thought about
getting in
contact with her on several occasions and am so glad that Alice got us
together
again."
Pizzey, 62, set up Chiswick Women's Aid, the first refuge for victims
of
domestic violence. Her 12 books include Scream Quietly or the
Neighbours Will
Hear.
LOAD-DATE: January 21, 2002
6 of 278 DOCUMENTS
Copyright 2001 Newspaper Publishing PLC
Independent on Sunday (London)
December 2, 2001, Sunday
SECTION: NEWS; Pg. 7
LENGTH: 969 words
HEADLINE: FEMINISTS ATTACK GREER FOR BLAST AT 'SABRE-TOOTH' POSH
BYLINE: Robert Mendick
BODY:
Germaine Greer has done it again. The veteran feminist has launched
another
verbal assault on a rival female icon, commanding Victoria Beckham to
"keep
quiet, have some babies and put on some weight".
Ms Greer's comments were made in an online debate on "The Secret
Meaning of
Posh and Becks", in which she described Mrs Beckham as "a
scrawny, sabre
-toothed beast" who looked like a "starving carnivore".
Questioned by The
Independent on Sunday, Ms Greer was unrepentant, reiterating her view
that Mrs
Beckham should stop making albums because they are so awful and
concentrate on
staying at home or else find her good-looking husband wooed by another
woman.
Even by Ms Greer's high standards, the attack sounds vicious. Although
there
have been other victims of Ms Greer's sharp tongue, including Anne
Robinson,
Cherie Blair and the columnist Suzanne Moore, Mrs Beckham is probably
the least
well equipped to defend herself from the barbs.
Last night, Mrs Beckham's agent declined to offer a comment in response
to
Ms Greer's vituperation. Instead, the former Spice Girl's defence was
left to
battle-hardened women fed up with Ms Greer's seeming lack of
sisterhood.
Erin Pizzey, the founder of the women's refuge movement and author of
the
book Scream Quietly or the Neighbours Will Hear, was aghast, declaring
the
attack "vicious and unnecessary".
"Germaine Greer has turned so many women off feminism," she
said, "She is a
narcissist and an exhibitionist. If we weighed up what Germaine Greer
has
offered the world against the Beckhams' example of a loving, warm
family, then
Posh and Becks win hands down. Part of the problem for Germaine Greer
is she
cannot have babies because nobody wants to marry her." Natasha
Walter, author of
The New Feminism who has crossed swords with Ms Greer in the past, is
puzzled.
"I don't really understand why she needs to attack women
individually," said Ms
Walter. "I think she thinks it's all a game. It's all fun and it's
all publicity
and she doesn't get why people get so upset about it.
"I don't think Victoria Beckham will be hurt by Germaine Greer.
She is
probably not really aware of who Germaine Greer is. She is not that up
on her
feminist history. Nevertheless commenting on people's appearance rather
than
their ideas is wrong."
Speaking from her home in Essex, Ms Greer, author of the seminal,
feminist
work The Female Eunuch, appeared, at first, somewhat defensive about
her
comments.
She explained they had been taken out of context, ascribing the views
to
female fans of the footballer who had little regard for his wife and
were
motivated by jealousy.
"I don't give a fuck what she does," said Ms Greer, before
warming to the
topic and calling Mrs Beckham a "velociraptor". She told The
Independent on
Sunday: "I just hope she doesn't waste all their money trying to
make a great
album because she can't. She says her career is important but I think
that is
nonsense. She should be around a bit more (at home) or somebody else is
going to
move in on the unguarded flank if she is not careful.
"What one would not like to see is the career of a peerless
footballer
brought low by the ambition of a less than brilliant pop star. She
should have
another baby in the interests of poor old Brooklyn."
Ms Greer had no regrets and showed no contrition for the salvoes
launched on
more high-brow rivals. "It has usually made the women I have said
it about." Her
most recent spat was with Anne Robinson, the host of The Weakest Link
and came
in response to comments in the television presenter's autobiography. Ms
Greer
announced she would name a chicken after Ms Robinson and enjoy it all
the more
when it came to wringing the bird's neck.
Annie the Chicken was still alive last night although time is running
out.
"I haven't got around to pulling its neck," explained Ms
Greer. "But I'm getting
some new chickens. So Annie is due for the pot."
Germaine on...
Victoria Beckham:
She should keep quiet, have babies, and put on weight.
Anne Robinson:
We were observing the peculiar behaviour of my hen, when my friend
said,
looking into the ginger bird's tiny, mad red-rimmed eye, 'D'you know
who she
reminds me of?'
Cherie Blair:
She's like his concubine. She's an intelligent woman doing an important
job.
I don't want to see her coming around being a wife.
Suzanne Moore:
Hair birds-nested all over the place, fuck-me shoes and three fat inches
of
cleavage ... so much lipstick must rot the brain.
Labour's female MPs:
A lot came in by default. They were a backing group while he, Tony
Blair,
was the teen idol - it's crapulous.
Tale of the tape
Greer
Age 62
Previous bouts Anne Robinson, Suzanne Moore, Cherie Blair, Julia
Roberts and
oppressive males.
Defeats One. A teenage student held her hostage in her own home, tying
her
up and smashing her belongings with a fire poker.
Intellectual punching power Her heavyweight tomes include The Female
Eunuch
and The Whole Woman. Professor of English and Comparative Studies at
the
University of Warwick, PhD from Cambridge University. Experienced
sparring on
most television debating programmes.
Beckham
Age 27
Previous bouts Several with Geri Halliwell; likened Page Three model
Jordan
to "a dog"; suggested Sophie Ellis-Bextor's record resembled
"dog food"; branded
Naomi Campbell a "bitch" after Campbell called her a
"talentless cow".
Defeats Humiliation when her much-hyped first solo album failed to set
the
charts on fire.
Intellectual punching power GCSEs from St Mary's High School, Cheshunt;
drama course at Laine Arts Theatre college, Epsom. Autobiography,
Learning to
Fly. Last week the British Retail Consortium said Britain needs a
minister for
shopping. Some think Posh would fit the bill.
LOAD-DATE: December 2, 2001
10 of 278 DOCUMENTS
Copyright 2001 Guardian Newspapers Limited
The Guardian (London)
November 26, 2001
SECTION: Guardian Features Pages, Pg. 6
LENGTH: 1186 words
HEADLINE: Women: 'Domestic violence can't be a gender issue': Erin Pizzey,
veteran feminist campaigner, tells Dina Rabinovitch why she now thinks
that
women can be just as abusive as men
BYLINE: Dina Rabinovitch
BODY:
Erin Pizzey, stocking-footed and sporting a huge cross, comes to the
door.
The rain's coming down with Old Testament veng- eance, and I am struggling
to
park, then carry out and protect small baby and tape-recorder. Pizzey
offers
just enough help to get me started - she hands me one of those
residents'
permits that keeps your car safe from traffic wardens - then abruptly
turns
around and heads back up the stairs, leaving me to manage the rest on
my own.
It's a small snapshot of what she believes in doing for women: she sets
them up
to be independent.
Once upon a time, back in the 70s, if you were a woman having a bad
time,
Pizzey's was the name to conjure with. The founder of the Chiswick
Women's
Refuge - which gave rise to Refuge, the national domestic violence
charity, and
the establishment of hundreds of women's refuges - she was part of the
culture
back then, a synonym for aid. I grew up in Hendon, a place impervious
to the
zeitgeist. But on the road where I lived in the 70s the big house at
the top was
squatted by a women's refuge: that's how far Pizzey's influence
penetrated.
These days Pizzey is on her own, in the top flat of a converted house
in
south London. Her centre of operations is the bright-yellow living
room, with a
computer, and a bed. When you visit, she offers you food from the
kitchen -
there's bread in the oven today. So far, so maternal. But just beneath the
solidity, all is fragile.
Last year was not good for Pizzey: she was diagnosed with cancer, and
her
grandson, Keita, a schizophrenic, committed suicide in a prison cell.
She
reacted in typical fashion - galvanising her family to fight the
coroner's
verdict of death by hanging, because her grandson should never have
been left in
a cell alone. Pizzey said - as other families of mentally ill patients
in prison
have protested unsuccessfully before - that the prison service didn't
care about
her grandson, that their neglect contributed to his death. And because
she's an
old campaigner she managed to have the case reheard - last month a jury
looked
at the evidence again, and found unanimously that his death was
contributed to
by the neglect of prison staff. The family's solicitor called the
verdict, the
first ever to reach a finding of neglect in a suicide case, a
"legal landmark".
But she also actively wrenched her granddaughter, Amber, away from
grief, by
putting her up for a bad-taste TV show. So the Mail put the following
words over
an article by Pizzey describing Amber's adventures on Temptation
Island: "I'm a
feminist, that's why I wanted my granddaughter to be a sexual
temptress." Pizzey
isn't wasting good anger on malicious headlines. She just chuckles. As
it
happens - and she has the letter to prove it - she has long since been
disowned
by feminism. This comes as a shock to someone of my generation - we
grew up
hearing about the work she did for other women - but also an insight into
the
beginnings of the movement which has made our lives so much easier. The
problem
with Pizzey - for feminism, anyhow - is she never toes anybody's party
line.
Right now she is writing a book - A Terrorist Within the Family - that
says men
are as much victims of domestic abuse as women.
These things are complicated - but ever current. On my way to south
London
to meet Pizzey they're talking about domestic violence on Radio 4's
Woman's
Hour, quoting the statistic that every third day a woman in this
country is
beaten or killed by a current or ex-partner. When I repeat this to
Pizzey, it
causes her to grimace. She doesn't accept the thesis - that only men
need to
learn to change their behaviour - or the figures.
Still, you don't have to be a burner of Playtex not to want your
descendants
on Temptation Island. What was she doing sending her grand-daughter off
to
seduce men away from their partners in the name of reality viewing?
"Amber's so
young to have such a terrible tragedy - her brother's dead, she's 22,
and
surrounded by grieving adults. This journalist mentioned he was looking
for
young people to go to this island, play a sort of dating game on the
beach.
Amber's really pretty, so I sent him two pictures of her, and said to
her, look,
you can't afford a holiday, but this is two weeks on a tropical island.
"And, by the way," and here comes the Pizzey touch - the bit
that's about
carving out a life, "I told her, if you truly want to be a singer,
this is what
it's going to be like. There'll be people there who'll be willing to do
almost
anything to get on the television: go and try 15 minutes of fame, and
see what
you make of it."
Amber was voted off Temptation Island, but tells her grandma she's
still
glad she went, though she hated the rejection. Her grandma, meanwhile,
continues
to court rejection from the women's movement. We talk about her latest
book.
"It's not that I'm saying women are as abusive as men; the point
is, it's not
men and women at all. It's anybody who comes from that kind of
background.
"If you come from a dysfunctional, violent and sexually abusive
family, how
do you learn? Therefore, domestic violence can't be a gender issue, it
can't be
just men, because we girls - and I was from one of those families - are
just as
badly affected." So women are as violent as men? "Well, we
tend to implode, our
violence is turned in on ourselves or is covert - men explode and hurt
others."
So it's not exactly the same? "It's violence," Pizzey says
stubbornly, and goes
on to tell a story of a woman she knows who bullies her husband with
domestic
chores.
In fact, Pizzey has been saying the same things about domestic violence
all
along. She was a housewife in south London, when she started reading
Jill
Tweedie's columns in the Guardian. "I thought, 'this is what I've
been waiting
for all my life' - that women were going to stop competing, and start
communicating, to get things done, to change things."
She went to her local women's liberation workshop - the first time she
had
left her husband babysitting - but she wasn't comfortable with what she
heard.
"They weren't allowing women to have a choice: I knew that a woman
who ends up
with a violent armed robber has at some level chosen to be with him -
but the
feminist movement only allowed women to be victims."
She was thrown out of the movement for informing on bombings by the
Angry
Brigade. "I said that if you go on with this - they were
discussing bombing Biba
(the legendary department store in Kensington) - I'm going to call the
police
in, because I really don't believe in this." Ousted, Pizzey went
off and started
the refuge. "In a way, if all that hadn't happened, I wouldn't
have done what I
believed in," she says now.
She has no publisher for A Terrorist in the Family; she plans to
release it
on the internet. She is no longer a name to conjure with. For a woman
who
affected so many, she seems - while surrounded by family - publicly
forgotten in
her older age. As I leave, I wonder if a man who'd done so much would
be quite
so alone, and I wonder why we women don't look after our own quite as
well as we
should.
LOAD-DATE: November 26, 2001
20 of 278 DOCUMENTS
Copyright 2001 Associated Newspapers Ltd.
MAIL ON SUNDAY
September 30, 2001
SECTION: Pg. 60
LENGTH: 1167 words
HEADLINE: I'm a feminist that's why I wanted my granddaughter to be a sexual
temptress;
How the founder of Refuge, the shelter for battered wives, recruited
Amber, 22,
for the 'infidelity in paradise' TV show
BYLINE: Erin Pizzey
BODY:
Well, in that case,' I said gazing at a slightly desperate TV research
assistant, 'I am willing to volunteer my granddaughter, Amber.' He had
been
discussing a possible documentary with me but then confessed he was
also looking
for young people for a show that was recruiting contestants to end up
on a
secret tropical island in a sort of 'dating game on the beach'. When I
got home,
I sent him a holiday snap of 22-year-old Amber and a passport
photograph taken
at Tesco's.
Being grandmotherless myself, I had always vowed that my granddaughter
should reap the benefits of my misspent life. The first sentence she
learned at
my arthritic knee was 'Make mine a Mercedes'. I also taught her to wash
diamonds
in vinegar and pearls in milk. Men, I instructed, were the vulnerable
sex, and
properly loved and fed seldom gave any trouble. Advice that I believed
would
stand her in good stead on Temptation Island, Sky One's reality TV
programme in
which couples have their fidelity tested by tempters, one of whom Amber
was
about to become.
'It's an excellent opportunity, Amber,' I said on the telephone. 'I've
flogged you off to a TV company.' She had been back after a year on a
kibbutz in
Israel and was suffering from itchy feet. 'If you want to make it in
the music
business you can go out to a fabulous island, see what showbusiness is
really
like and if you enjoy your 15 minutes of fame it will be a free
holiday. And
it's time you had another adventure.' The format of the programme
seemed to
promise an adventure. Four couples would be separated, with the men
sent to one
resort to be surrounded by beautiful women, while the girls would be
sent to
another to be tempted into infidelity by carefully chosen males. Over
the weeks
the tempters would be voted off the islands by their 'victims'.
None of this deterred Amber. 'I got through the first interview,
Grandma,'
she said on the telephone. There was an anxious ten-day waiting period
and then
we heard she was definitely going.
But while we were delighted she was going to appear in the programme, I
was
amazed at how much teeth-sucking was going on around me. Quite rational
friends
changed colour. 'I thought of you as a leading women's rights activist.
I must
say I am disappointed,' a neighbour commented. 'It'll be a **** fest,'
her
husband added wistfully.
'It's people like you that take all the fun out of life,' I retorted.
'How could you let Amber do a thing like that?' my now ex-best friend
hissed
outside the Post Office where we were collecting our pensions. I
decided that
this was not the time to tell her that Amber telephoned that morning to
announce
that her required AIDS test was negative. 'Jolly good, darling,' I
said.
'Very responsible production company,' I reported to my daughter. 'I
hope
they're as good at sifting out the psychotics.' So why, given the
criticism I
faced, do I still think that what I did was not only understandable but
also a
good thing? I confess that I am a reality-television junkie.
When we watch soaps, the actors and actresses learn lines and translate
the
scripts to us. At the end of each episode they go home and become
themselves.
In reality television, real people have to make the script up as they
go
along. We see them at their most vulnerable, which is why millions not
only
identify with the participants but also find these shows such compulsive
viewing.
Nothing on TV exposes the strengths and weaknesses in the personalities
of
ordinary people in the way that reality television does. It is not only
the
viewer that learns about the individuals they are watching the
individuals
involved learn more about themselves than they will at probably any
other stage
of their lives.
It is this risking of the self that causes tension in the viewer and
can be
dangerous for the participant. Placed in a highly artificial situation,
some
people are tempted by a lust for fame or financial gain to behave under
the
narcissistic glare of the cameras against their own moral convictions.
The
transformations some people undergo are extraordinary and revealing.
Vanessa
Feltz appeared to suffer a minor breakdown in the celebrity version of
Big
Brother and was genuinely embarrassed by the results of her behaviour.
In a
gripping episode of ITV's Survivor, three men stood on a long pole in
the
blazing heat without food for nearly 24 hours. It made for heroic
viewing
precisely because these were real people who were prepared to endure
unimaginable suffering. They could be considered our 21st Century
gladiators.
And like gladiatorial combat we cannot help but watch and wonder how we
would respond in similar circumstances.
'It won't just be great fun, Amber,' I told my granddaughter. 'You will
also
discover things that you never knew about yourself. You will not only
be asked
to tempt men to cheat on their partners, but you may also be expected
to do some
things that might shock you.' Amber just grinned at me. 'I guess I'll
just have
to find out,' she said. 'I do hope I don't do anything that I'll
regret.' The
more respectable members of the family were not informed of Amber's
adventure,
but the rest took it in their stride. 'Remember,' her mother, my
daughter, said,
'whatever you do I will be watching.' I honestly believed that if
anyone could
cope with the experience and be enriched by what they learned, it was
Amber. She
comes from an unorthodox, adventurous family. She was only a few years
old when
the family packed up our home, our dogs and cats and set off for a new
life in
Santa Fe, New Mexico. When she was born her father, Mikey Craig, was
playing
bass guitar with Culture Club and the house was full of music. On my
side of the
family we inherit wild Irish genes.
Amber telephoned the night before she left England. 'The girls are
really
nice,' she said. 'I hope I don't get voted off first.' After she
telephoned from
Miami to say she was flying with the other 'singles' to the island the
next day,
I didn't hear from her for a while before I got a reverse charge call
from
British Honduras. 'I wasn't the first to go, but I've been voted off
now,
Grandma,' she said. Her voice was shaky and she was close to tears.
'Was it worth doing?' I asked her anxiously.
'Sure. Grandma, even you'd be shocked at some of the things that
happened.'
'I'm sure I will be, but are you all right?' 'Yeah, but I know what you
mean
about finding out about myself. There were things I just couldn't do,
Grandma.
But I'm glad I went. I've got to ring Mum and tell her I'm OK, and then
I'm
going off to swim with some of the others who've also been voted off.'
I put the
phone down and heaved a sigh of relief. She'd survived her experience.
All I've got to do now is watch my granddaughter's performance on
television
from behind a pair of dark glasses with a large gin and tonic in my
hand and see
if I really can be shocked by what goes on.
Temptation Island is broadcast on Sky One on Sundays and Fridays
LOAD-DATE: October 1, 2001
24 of 278 DOCUMENTS
Copyright 2001 EXPRESS NEWSPAPERS
Sunday Express
September 2, 2001
SECTION: FEATURES; Pg. 53
LENGTH: 1582 words
HEADLINE: ENJOY!; I FELT SO GUILTY WHEN MY GIRLFRIEND BEAT ME UP
BYLINE: LOUISE CARTER
BODY:
Domestic abuse is a brutal reality for many women but what if the
victim is
male? After years of violence Jason, 33, decided to speak out about one
of
Britain's last taboos. He tells LOUISE CARTER about the love that
forced him
into silence - and the attack that drove him to break it
WHEN I met Rachel in June 1998, I was not looking for love. I was
independent and enjoying the single life.
I had just got a good job as a quantity surveyor and was looking
forward to
the future. My friends and I went out to celebrate at a Chinese
restaurant and
as we walked in my eyes were drawn to a beautiful woman sitting with a
group of
partygoers.
That was Rachel, and meeting her turned my world upside down. We were
introduced through mutual friends. She was truly the girl of my dreams
-
attractive, articulate and a sympathetic listener. By the end of the
night I
knew I was falling for her and we arranged to meet again.
Two months sped by and I was blissfully happy. We would often talk
through
the night and sit together to watch the sun rise. She was interested in
everything I had to say - my life, my work and my family.
She was a mature student nearing the end of a degree course in social
work.
She wanted to develop a career in occupational therapy and we discussed
her
plans for the future.
Soon they became our plans. I knew our relationship was moving fast,
but it
felt right. We tried to see each other every day but failing that we
would speak
for hours on the phone.
One evening, after I had been working late, I waited for Rachel to
call. As
soon as the telephone rang I leapt to answer it. The voice was
unmistakably
Rachel's but she sounded subdued. I tried to cheer her up but as she
explained
how bad her day at college had been, her voice became irate. Soon she
was
screaming at me, accusing me of not caring for her. "Where are
you?" she yelled.
"You obviously hate me, or you would be here."
SHE could not be reasoned with and after she slammed down the phone, I
was
stunned. I wanted to see her immediately and reassure her that of
course I loved
her. When I arrived on her doorstep, she was as sweet as ever. It was
as though
nothing had happened. She greeted me with a kiss and apologised for her
behaviour. I forgot it all in an instant, putting it down to a moment
of
madness. I was just glad that she was OK.
We soon decided to move in together and found a lovely apartment.
Weekends
were spent shopping for furniture as we settled into our own new home.
Rachel
concentrated on her degree and I ploughed my energy into my work.
I was content with the way our relationship was developing but Rachel
became
increasingly stressed.
Soon she was ringing me two or three times a day to complain about
college
or just to check where I was.
One night I was late home from work. I had explained that a project was
due
but when I walked in she accused me of being unfaithful. Her face was
contorted
with rage.
Frightened at this sudden personality change, I tried to reassure her.
I
took a step towards her but she stepped back. She screamed at me not to
touch
her, grabbed a cup of hot tea from the table and threw it at me. I
ducked and it
crashed into the wall.
From then on her temper quickly deteriorated. I could not understand
what
had happened to the sweet, caring woman I had fallen in love with. She
twisted
everything I said.
She could create an argument out of the most innocent remark - even a
compliment.
She was so ugly when she was angry, it seemed unreal and unnatural. We
rowed
over trivial things and the more she knew about me, the more she ripped
me
apart.
But I still loved her passionately.
Each time the tears would fall afterwards and she would make excuses
for her
behaviour. She would blame her hormones, beg my forgiveness and promise
to get
help.
I desperately wanted to believe her and promised to stand by her. I had
caught a glimpse of true happiness with her and I wanted it to
continue.
So I faced her irrational outbursts and defended myself as best I
could.
I would try to hold her and calm her down but she would bite and spit.
If I
tried to back away, she would grab my hair and kick me.
I booked an appointment with Relate, hoping we could sort out our
problems.
But Rachel was furious.
She said the problem was all mine.
The appointment was cancelled.
Perhaps she was right - maybe I should be able to handle what was
happening.
Trips to buy new plates, cups and ashtrays became a regular occurrence.
Every
week something would be broken.
I was emotionally drained. It affected every aspect of my life. I
struggled
to keep focused on work.
When the boss shouted at me for being late, I cowered - I was so used
to
being yelled at.
I knew deep down that Rachel had a problem but I could not stop
punishing
myself. Other couples were not like us, so I felt I had failed somehow.
I'd look
for faults in my personality to justify Rachel's insults and actions. I
lost the
ability to stand up for myself and my self-confidence was in shreds.
Yet when we went out with friends, the transformation was unnerving.
Suddenly she was the life and soul of the party again - smiling and
laughing.
Everyone loved her and said how lucky I was. Who would believe me if
they
knew the truth? At 6 ft 2 in I towered over 5 ft 4 in Rachel. I would
be a
laughingstock, totally humiliated.
Of course, Rachel knew this. "Do you think they'd believe
you?" she would
sneer. "I'll say you hurt me." So I hated myself for not
being able to cope and
bottled it all up for 2 years. Then one day I woke early. Rachel was
asleep, so
I decided to make tea. It was a lovely morning, so I opened the back
door.
I heard Rachel come into the kitchen and she launched into a torrent of
abuse. She was shouting because I had not made her tea, and screamed
that the
open door would aggravate her hay fever. She called me a selfish pig.
She darted for the kettle and gripped it so hard that the whites of her
knuckles showed. I turned to run and felt a searing pain as she threw
the
boiling water over my back. Screaming in agony, I rang a neighbour who
drove me
to the hospital.
I SPENT the day wrestling with my conflicting emotions. My deeprooted
affection for Rachel had not disappeared but I needed to think of my
safety.
What if she had wielded a knife instead of a kettle?
When I was discharged later that day I stopped at the police station.
I was terrified at how the police officers would react. The prospect of
admitting the abuse made me physically ill. I also felt I was betraying
Rachel.
But to my relief the police listened patiently, and did not judge. They
asked if I wished to press charges but I decided not to. I did not want
an
ongoing war between us.
Just talking about how she had treated me worked wonders. I felt as
though a
weight had been lifted. I just wanted Rachel out of my life.
The police offered me leaflets on domestic abuse. Unfortunately, all
the
contacts were for women. In desperation I called one of them and they
put me in
touch with ManKind - a support group for male victims of domestic
abuse.
I believe that call saved my selfrespect and gave me the strength to go
on.
When I got home Rachel expressed no remorse for her actions. Something
between
us had changed irrevocably and I told her to leave. I refused to live
in fear of
violence any longer.
That was five months ago. The physical scars have healed and I'm slowly
piecing my life back together.
Before I met Rachel I never dreamt that men could be victims of
domestic
abuse.
I'm now in touch with Victim Support, and regularly contact ManKind.
They have made me feel safe. It gave me an outlet to express the
emotions I
had repressed.
I am so glad that I decided to take control of my life again. It was
frightening but I would urge any victim of domestic abuse - male or
female - to
get help. Men need to realise that they are not alone.
I wasted nearly three years of my life. Please don't make the same
mistakes
I did.
'Domestic violence support groups are heavily biased against men. We
want to
redress that' MALE domestic abuse recently hit the headlines when Erin
Pizzey -
who founded Refuge, the charity offering support to women in violent
domestic
situations - claimed that men were the forgotten victims of domestic
abuse. She
is writing a book, A Terrorist Within the Family, in which she suggests
that
women are as violent as men. "Just as many men are being attacked
by women, "
she says.
The last major survey into domestic abuse in 1996 found that 4.2 per
cent of
women and 4.2 per cent of men said they had been physically abused by a
partner
in the last year. Assaults included shoving, grabbing, kicking,
slapping,
punching. Women claimed to have been injured in 47 per cent of the
assaults and
men in 31 per cent. Violence was found to peak between the ages of 16
and 24.
Married men were at lowest risk but cohabiting men were at greatest
risk.
Male victims tended to be particularly unhappy about the level of
support
offered, especially by the police.
Stephen Fitzgerald of ManKind, a support group for men, said:
"Domestic
violence support groups are heavily biased against men and we seek to
redress
this balance. Even if only one man in a thousand is abused, that man is
entitled
to the same help as women."
ManKind helpline 01643 863352.
Victim Support helpline 0845 3030900.
LOAD-DATE: September 2, 2001
35 of 278 DOCUMENTS
Copyright 2001 Telegraph Group Limited
THE DAILY TELEGRAPH(LONDON)
August 17, 2001, Friday
SECTION: Pg. 19
LENGTH: 497 words
HEADLINE: Give us lasses, not ladettes Doris Lessing was right to criticise
man-hating feminists, says Erin Pizzey
BYLINE: By Erin Pizzey
BODY:
Doris Lessing seized her moment at the Edinburgh Festival this week to
lambast
the feminist movement for waging war against men. Men, she declared,
are the new
victims in the sex war and are "continually demeaned and
insulted" by women.
Lessing now faces the slings and arrows of the enraged sisterhood, but
she has a
broad back and an astute understanding of the political agenda that
cynically
manipulated the feminist movement of the early Seventies.
The 30 years war against men was in its infancy in 1971, when I opened the
first refuge for women who were victims of domestic violence. I was
aware
immediately that 62 of the first 100 women in my care were as violent
as the men
they had left behind. But it was impossible to get this information
published,
because women journalists were filling their columns with the news that
the
women's movement would unite all women in the battle for equal pay and
opportunities and would insist, among other things, that "all
women were
innocent victims of men's violence".
My generation of thirty-somethings, at home with our children, fulfilling our
roles as wives and mothers, were ripe for a revolution. We were the
first of the
Pill generation and the first in which thousands of women could look
forward to
a university education. For the first time in history, women could be
financially independent, so that they no longer had to look to men for
a secure
future. Women would, we were assured by the spokeswomen of our
movement, break
down the sexual barriers and reinvent themselves and their sexuality.
But there was confusion, in that women reached out for male power and dressed
and behaved as obnoxiously as the men of whom they complained, while
insisting
that men should cave in to their demands to become more like women.
Thus was
born the "ladette" culture: the very idea of femininity was
anathema to the
younger generation of women clawing their way up the social structure,
although
they still wanted relationships with men, a home and a family.
Zoe Ball, Sara Cox and Nicole Appleton all typify this new generation of
"have it all" women. Scary Meg Mathews's excessive partying
brought her marriage
to Noel Gallagher to an end. But if men continue to be abused in the
name of the
liberation of women, then women will dominate and destroy men instead
of working
towards an equal partnership.
Much of my work is with violence-prone women: it is very difficult in the
present-day culture of women behaving outrageously to reintroduce the
feminine
virtues of gentleness and patience. Ball gave birth to her first child
last
December; she now prefers mineral water to lager and is presenting a
touching
television series about childbirth - proof that even the hardest
ladette can
reform.
I have always believed that it is women who civilise a nation through the
influence they exercise over their children, so perhaps Ball can show
us the way
back? If she doesn't, the future looks lonely for all of us.
LOAD-DATE: August 17, 2001
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Copyright 2001 Times Newspapers Limited
The Times (London)
August 13, 2001, Monday
SECTION: Home news
LENGTH: 309 words
HEADLINE: Men told how to avoid violent women
BYLINE: Elizabeth Judge
BODY:
Erin Pizzey, the founder of Britain's first refuge for battered women,
is
writing a book with advice for men on how to avoid violent women.
A Terrorist Within the Family warns men of tell-tale signs that show a
woman
could turn violent. A slight temper, or displays of neuroticism in a
young
woman, signal that she could become violent in later life. The book
also claims
that men should avoid women who have intense relationships with their
mothers.
It is based on evidence compiled from Ms Pizzey's 30 years working with
battered women and their partners and follows the early findings of a
survey
into domestic violence which shows that men are as likely to suffer
from
domestic violence as women.
Researchers led by Dr Malcolm George, from the University of London,
examined more than 100 papers on domestic violence from the past two
decades.
Their findings suggest that a female partner can be just as aggressive
as a man.
They are now building up a detailed picture of the type of men who are
vulnerable to domestic violence, using the experiences of more than 100
male
victims. The men, who replied to advertisements in men's journals, have
all been
abused or beaten by a female partner in the past five years.
David Yarwood, from Dewar Research, a private company managing the
study,
said: "There has been very little information collated on male
victims of
domestic violence. This is a result of the common perception that women
are the
main ones to suffer."
Ms Pizzey said: "Despite evidence from 30 years ago to say
otherwise, the
common perception still is that men are never the victims. What we need
is more
balanced approach towards the subject and an end of the taboo
surrounding women
in violence so that we can have peace in the family."
She added: "We always give the benefit of the doubt to
women."
LOAD-DATE: August 13, 2001
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Copyright 2001 Newspaper Publishing PLC
The Independent (London)
March 4, 2001, Sunday
SECTION: NEWS; Pg. 5
LENGTH: 483 words
HEADLINE: WOMEN 'TOUGHER' ON RAPE VICTIMS
BYLINE: Sophie Goodchild And Louise Jury
BODY:
HELENA KENNEDY QC, the Labour peer and close friend of the Blairs, says
that
women jurors are tougher than men on female victims of rape.
The leading human rights lawyer claims that older generations of women
in
particular are less sympathetic when sitting on rape trial juries.
"Women are often very hard on their own sex," she said.
"Sometimes, if women
arebeing tough, then men defer to women. They (women) take the lead on
the
discussions and are very tough on women."
Her comments, based on her own courtroom experience, have divided
feminists
and anti-rape campaigners, as well as furthered the debate on how rape
trials
are handled.
Baroness Kennedy, who has campaigned for 25 years for reform in the way
rape
cases are handled, made her comments at a lecture held to mark the
opening of
the first national women's library.
She said male jurors often feel women are better qualified to decide on
whether or not a rape victim is telling the truth, so let female jurors
take the
lead onreaching a verdict.
In her experience, older generations of women are more prone to
believing
that "nice girls don't". But she is confident that a new
generation of women
"are going to approach this differently".
Baroness Kennedy also called for judges to receive special training to
deal
withrape cases, which she said were still not dealt with appropriately
by the
criminal justice system. She said she backed an Australian training
scheme
whichinvolves groups of judges being asked to remember their last
sexual
experience then describe this to the others present - the aim being to
emphasis
to them thevulnerability of rape victims describing sex attacks in
front of a
courtroom.
Her comments have received a mixed reaction from feminist reformers.
Erin Pizzey, who helped set up refuges for "battered women",
said there had
always been a problem of "sisters" failing to support each
other.
She said: "Our generation carries with us the belief that women
should all
be saints and virgins and that nice girls don't get drunk. Men are much
more
likelyto be sympathetic to women compared with their own sisters. Often
when
women areabused by violent men it is their female friends who point the
finger
and blame them for it. Luckily this is changing."
Julie Bindel, a leading feminist campaigner and also spokeswoman for
Justice
forWoman, said that although women can be prejudiced on juries, men
were not
shown to be more sympathetic. "Women jurors can be a nightmare in
sex crime
trials," she said. "My heart sinks if the majority of people
on a jury are
women. Women grade their own experiences and then use these to judge
the woman
in the witnessbox.
"But it's not because men have more sympathy than women. Men see
themselves
in the dock - and even if the person's a serial sex attacker they will
think of
himas a regular geezer."
COMMENT, PAGE 28
LOAD-DATE: March 4, 2001
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Copyright 2001 The Scotsman Publications Ltd.
Scotland on Sunday
January 14, 2001, Sunday
SECTION: Pg. 17
LENGTH: 1141 words
HEADLINE: LESSONS WE FAIL TO LEARN
BYLINE: By Erin Pizzey
BODY:
IN 30 years of working with violent and dysfunctional families, the
most
difficult cases ever presented to me are when the primary caregiver of
the child
is an abusive woman. There is almost no information on women as abusers
and
virtually none on women as paedophiles.
What Anna Climbie's parents did not know when they allowed Marie
Therese
Kouao to take their daughter to a new and better life, was that they
were
putting their child into the hands of a sadistic, perverted paedophile.
In African families and in Afro-Caribbean families, children are often
shared among friends and relations. So when Kouao, who met Anna's
parents twice
at funerals, impressed them with her talk of an affluent life they were
happy to
see their child offered what they believed to be an excellent education
and a
future away from the poverty they were experiencing.
Anna was not the first child that came into Kouao's hands and only time
will
tell if she was as violent and abusive to other children in her care.
The pattern for women like Kouao is that they deliberately offer to
adopt
children from vulnerable, gullible parents and then proceed to use the
child for
their own violent and sexual needs. Female sexual abuser's
satisfactions are far
more diffuse than that of men. But both sexes achieve high levels of
sexual
satisfaction from the pain and the wounding of their victims. Kouao,
like other
women I have dealt with, did not need an accomplice to fulfil her
violent sexual
needs but, in many cases, having a willing onlooker and a participator
increases
the sense of perverted excitement. Kouao's feeling of omnipotence
escalated each
time she escaped detection by the various agencies that refused to look
at the
evidence before their eyes.
There is always a ritual for women like Kouao that precipitates
beatings and
torture. In Kouao's case, it was her ability to project her own demons
upon
Anna. If Kouao is properly interrogated, it will be possible for her to
describe
the necessary steps that she took to enable her to create her private
concentration camp for the child. The burnings, the beatings and the
encasing of
the child's body in a bin liner will all have a significance known only
to
Kouao. This sort of violence is not random but can be traced back into
damage
that was done to Kouao herself.
It was no accident that she came upon Carl Manning and he became her
partner. Manning was living at home with his mother. His perverted
sexual
fantasies were confined to watching pornography on his computer and
frequenting
prostitutes. Until he met Kouao, his sadistic fantasies were confined
to his
imagination. However, in so many cases, sexual abusers like Kouao have
an
unerring instinct when they meet a willing accomplice.
At no point did Manning have any instinct to have pity or compassion
for a
tiny, tortured child. His disgust at Anna's incontinence and his
complicity in
the violence must bear witness to events in his own childhood. His
subordination
to Kouao's perverted lifestyle was complete. He called the child
"Satan Anna"
and admired her ability to sustain painful beatings.
Living with Kouao and Anna in his tiny flat, he was engulfed by Kauai's
powerful reality. Her hold over both Manning and Anna was complete.
Having what
must have been a bankrupt reality of his own fed only by prostitutes
and
pornography, Manning was ripe to fall into Kouao's clutches. Anna, no
doubt
threatened with further torture should she ever ask for help, also
believed in
her tormentor's omnipotence. Within the walls of the flat Kouao created
a
perverted world or her own.
It is hard to describe to a public just how hallucinating this
perverted
world is for those wrapped up in its dark folds. The inner world of the
dangerously perverted becomes a reality for the victim and the
anticipation of
the torture becomes more terrifying than the moment when the violence
begins.
When the beating stops gratitude sets in which often binds the victim
to the
torturer, who is now all-powerful in the victim's life. How many times
must that
child have believed as she was taken to two hospitals, dragged in front
of
social workers and taken to church, that at some point some caring
adult might
save her?
What the child could not have known is that there is a refusal on the
part
of our society to look at the evil perpetrated by women. Had Kouao been
a man,
Anna's parents would not have allowed her leave their village. British
immigration authorities would have looked twice at a man bringing a
small girl
into this country. They may well have run a check on the child's
passport and
discovered it was forged. This is not the only case I have been
involved in when
female paedophiles have moved in and out of the country with children
on forged
passports.
Hospitals, social workers and the police are trained to look for male
perpetrators of violence and sexual abuse. They are not trained to
question
female perpetrators like Kouao and she used their unwillingness to
imagine her
as an abuser to her advantage. There is a climate of fear in this
country that
threatens any attempt to question women's role in dysfunctional
behaviour. For
those of us who work in the field of domestic violence, we have been
pilloried
and persecuted for suggesting that women can and are just as capable of
violence
as men.
Anna Cameron, a friend who had childminded for Kouao in the past, saw
that
Anna had cuts on her fingers, across her cheek and eyelid and marks on
her body
that she suspected were cigarette burns. She took Anna to Central
Middlesex
hospital but she was discharged after an overnight stay because the
child
protection doctor, Ruby Schwartz, preferred to believe Anna suffered
from
scabies rather than from child abuse. I wonder if Ruby Schwartz was
blinded by
the fact that the abuser was a woman and black? I wonder if Ruby Schwartz,
Ms
Arthurworrey, a member of Haringey's child protection team, along with
PC Karen
Jones had failed to be informed that women perpetrate the majority of
child
abuse cases?
Kouao's whole lifestyle was one of threatening behaviour, lying and
intimidating anyone who crossed her. Only the death of a child brought
her
villainous career to an end.
As Manning sits in prison penning his love letters to her, hopefully
one day
he is able to take the responsibility for his part in the death of an
innocent
child.
WH Auden wrote:
I and the public know
What all schoolchildren learn,
Those to whom evil is done
Do evil in return.
All we can do is to mourn Anna's short and tortured life and make a vow
that
should we be faced with what looks like an act of violence against a
child, we
will have the courage to go to the rescue.
* Erin Pizzey is a novelist and lecturer and founded the women's
charity
Refuge
LOAD-DATE: January 15, 2001
58 of 278 DOCUMENTS
Copyright 2001 EXPRESS NEWSPAPERS
The Express
January 13, 2001
SECTION: LWORD; Pg. 38
LENGTH: 108 words
HEADLINE: RADICAL LESBIANS 'BULLY VULNERABLE WOMEN'
BODY:
I HEARTILY agree with Carol Sarler's article "Women's issues can't
be
resolved by man-haters" (Daily Express, January 9). Julie
Bindel et al are not
going to decamp from the issue of domestic violence because that is how
they
make their living. They spread their hatred of men and their warped
dislike of
family life everywhere they go. The radical end of the lesbian movement
has long
ago invaded the cause of domestic violence. Many of them run refuges,
both here
and abroad, which enable them to bully and brainwash vulnerable women
and
children into believing their pernicious rubbish.
Erin Pizzey,
pizzey@pizzey1.freeserve.co.uk
LOAD-DATE: January 30, 2001
59 of 278 DOCUMENTS
Copyright 2001 The Scotsman Publications Ltd.
The Scotsman
January 12, 2001, Friday
SECTION: Pg. 15
LENGTH: 774 words
HEADLINE: WHY 'THE FOUNDER OF THE REFUGE MOVEMENT' HAS GOT ME WORRIED
BYLINE: Linda Watson-Brown
BODY:
ERIN Pizzey describes herself as the founder of the refuge movement.
She
opened the first safe house for women and children who were victims of
domestic
violence in Chiswick in 1971. But Pizzey is angry. Thirty years later,
she is
furious with the way in which "her" movement has been
hijacked and "her" issue
manipulated.
I do not know a great deal about Erin Pizzey. I recognise her
involvement
with issues of violence, but have only seen her on mid-morning talk
shows and
zoo TV in which she displays her anger towards other women more
effectively than
her rage at the perpetrators of the abuse which she has witnessed. Her
target is
feminists and feminism. She speaks of how "her" topic was
captured by extremist
feminists who wanted to use the issue of domestic violence as a means
of
vilifying and degrading all men, with a view to demoting them from any
important
role in the home and the upbringing of their children.
Pizzey's constant need to assert ownership of domestic violence is a
worrying one, as are a number of the myths she perpetuates. As with
many of
those who have spoken out against feminism, she has a grain of truth at
times in
some of what she says. She notes the ways in which, when she
tentatively
broached feminism, her looks and heterosexuality were focused on. This
is not
news, and it is not the main interest of the feminism that I know.
However, what
I do agree with here is that there are women who call themselves
feminists who
then treat other women in a way which denies any notions of sisterhood
or common
cause.
I vividly recall being told at 18 that I had no right to call myself a
feminist until I was a mother. I certainly couldn't do it while dying
my hair
and wearing make-up. The critic was a lecturer notorious for the ways
in which
she would encourage male students and ignore women, while telling us
all what a
trailblazer she was. This is not a problem of feminism - it indicates a
misguided individual claiming to be something they could not recognise
in a
full-blown bra-burning session.
My third area of agreement with Pizzey is that there is what I would
call a
feminist mafia operating in some constituencies - particularly the
academic
world. But again, this tends to be exemplified by women who claim to be
feminists while doing everything they can to transform themselves into
honorary
men. They are not ensuring that grants go to the people or places which
could
undertake the research best. They certainly have no interest in
expanding their
contacts outwith a narrow, cliqued boundary, but they do prevent a lot
of good
being done and they do give anti-feminists far too much ammunition.
Thankfully
they are few.
The real feminist women working for others - whether they subscribe to
the
principles of the women's movement or not - do not fall into any of
these
categories. Those working in rape crisis centres and anti-pornography
groups and
women's support organisations are not living off the fat of the land,
nor are
they adopting any ideology purely for notional gain.
There are many, many more issues on which I would disagree
wholeheartedly
with Erin Pizzey. She complains that when she was isolated by the feminist
movement, she found herself unable to raise the funds for a hostel for
abused
men. This has nothing to do with women's rights lobbyists ensuring that
funds
only go to personal projects - from what I have seen, feminists have
little of
the vast power which detractors constantly refer to. If they had,
surely a lot
more would be happening to rid our screens of exploitative messages, to
stop the
abuse in our homes, to ban pornography from our retailers, and to
provide
effective, safe health services for all women?
As it is, they are still fighting for many of the same things they
targeted
30 years ago - not a terribly good indicator of entrenched, overriding
power.
Indeed, if Pizzey asked around a little more she would find that men
who run
services for men often have the same problems. In Edinburgh, a violence
intervention project with proven results is constantly engaged in the
battle for
funding. For those of you who find my constant reference to women's
issues so
bothersome, please feel free to send me donations for this project
instead, as
it deserves wholehearted support.
What Pizzey ought to consider in relation to funding problems is what
local
and national governments are doing to facilitate or hamper progress.
Attacking
an entire movement on the basis of a perceived slight does a lot of
damage - in
this instance, most of it reflects on the person doing the
unsubstantiated
vilification.
LOAD-DATE: January 12, 2001
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Copyright 2000 Guardian Newspapers Limited
The Guardian (London)
October 27, 2000
SECTION: Guardian Leader Pages, Pg. 25
LENGTH: 255 words
HEADLINE: Letter: Women are the victims
BYLINE: Prof Betsy Stanko
BODY:
Erin Pizzey (Letters, October 26) challenges Bea Campbell's
observations
that "men are the problem" (Comment, October 25) for our
understanding of
violence. I am the author of the snapshot of domestic violence in the
UK (the
results can be found on: www.domesticviolencedata.
org). This study was based
on police activity throughout the UK on September 28.
On this day, 81% of those contacting police were women attacked by men,
8%
men attacked by women; 4% women attacked by women and 7% men attacked
by men.
Even "official" statistics show that men as perpetrators
overwhelmingly dominate
domestic violence. Men even attack other men almost as often as women
attack
them. For some men, domestic violence surely lurks at home. But to deny
the
impact of gender in the information we have about domestic violence is
surely a
mistake.
I suggest that Pizzey begin a campaign to stop pub violence. Here is
indeed
a very serious issue of men's safety vis-a-vis violence in this
country. All our
evidence suggests that for men, it is the violence found in pubs and
clubs and
from disputes and conflicts with friends and neighbours that harm men
the most.
To deny the gender of violence is to deny all the evidence we have.
Since we
are now beginning to understand that social policy and practice should
be
evidence-based, we should insist that good policy understand the
gendered nature
of violence.
Prof Betsy Stanko
Director, ESRC Violence Research Programme
University of London
vrp@rhul.ac.uk
LOAD-DATE: October 27, 2000
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Copyright 2000 Guardian Newspapers Limited
The Guardian (London)
October 27, 2000
SECTION: Guardian Leader Pages, Pg. 25
LENGTH: 128 words
HEADLINE: Letter: Women are the victims
BYLINE: Carolyne Willow
BODY:
Erin Pizzey is right: women can be violent too. Research carried out
for the
Department of Health found that over three-quarters of mothers had
smacked their
one-year-old babies, and 14% used implements - usually wooden spoons
and
slippers -to hit their children. Domestic violence against babies
and children
is routinely minimised. In fact three weeks into the 21st century the
government
issued a consultation document asking whether physical punishment
causing brain
damage can ever be defended as "reasonable". Let's hope this
shameful document
marks a turning point and that the law is soon reformed to give
children the
same protection from assault as adults.
Carolyne Willow
Children's Rights Alliance for England
cwillow@primex.co.uk
LOAD-DATE: October 27, 2000
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Copyright 2000 Guardian Newspapers Limited
The Guardian (London)
October 26, 2000
SECTION: Guardian Leader Pages, Pg. 23
LENGTH: 273 words
HEADLINE: Letter: Homing in on violence
BYLINE: Erin Pizzey
BODY:
Beatrix Campbell feels that "men are the problem" (Comment,
October 25). In
1971 I opened the first refuge in the world for victims of domestic
violence and
their children. Of the first 100 women who came in, 62 were as
violent as the
men they left. I tried to publish my findings (A Comparative Study of
Battered
Women and Violence-Prone Women) but the hostility towards any
discussion of
women's role in domestic violence made it impossible.
In 1980 respected American researchers, Murray Strauss, Richard Gelles
and
Suzanne Steinmetz, published Behind Closed Doors, Violence in the
American
Family. In their findings they reported that domestic assault rates
between men
and women were about equal. They were backed by a report from Leicester
Royal
infirmary (1992), which found that men and women were equally victims
of violent
assaults, but the male injuries were more horrific because they were
caused by
weapons. In a Home Office study (January 1999), which is possibly the
single
biggest survey in the world, 4.2% of women and 4.2% of men were said to
have
been physically assaulted by their current or former partners in the
last year.
And violence does not only occur between men and women or even between
men
and men, but also occurs between women and women. In a sample of 1,099
lesbians,
Lie and the Gentle Warrior found that 52% of the respondents had been
abused by
a female lover or partner. If women are so violent in their
relationships with
each other, how can the myth of men as sole perpetrators of domestic
violence
hold up?
Erin Pizzey
Twickenham, Middx pizzey@pizzey1.freeserve.co.uk
LOAD-DATE: October 26, 2000
66 of 278 DOCUMENTS
Copyright 2000 The Scotsman Publications Ltd.
Evening News (Edinburgh)
September 6, 2000, Wednesday
SECTION: Pg. 10
LENGTH: 885 words
HEADLINE: WHY WOMEN CANNOT BE EXCUSED
BYLINE: By George Mcaulay
BODY:
FALSE rape allegation is a vicious and criminal act that attacks men,
their
loved ones and genuine sex attack victims by reducing the credibility
of their
claims. At present, the legal system rarely acts to prosecute women who
make
false allegations.
The Public Petitions Committee of the Scottish Parliament is soon to
consider a proposal for a change in the law submitted by the UK Men's
Movement.
For this we have been viciously attacked by media feminists and
politicians of
both sexes, as have the two MSPs - Phil Gallie and Brian Monteith - who
are
backing the proposal.
Our submission, that a law be enacted to create a new offence of false
rape
allegation, has caused the well-heeled feminist establishment of
academics,
politicians and journalists to foam at the mouth.
We want this new offence to carry a sentence commensurate with that
which
the offender is attempting to impose upon her victim.
Our motives are straightforward - as well as protecting victims of
false
allegation, we want to halt the slide towards a dangerous gender apartheid
that
is developing in our justice system, a system that is in danger of
seeing women
as invariably the innocent victims of cruel, oppressive and depraved
men.
The feminists who are most outraged are those who work in the
victimology
"industry." With their allies in the media and politics, in
particular men who
see career advancement in appeasing the feminist lobby, they are using
the
revulsion, fear and anger that most of us feel towards those who
sexually or
physically abuse women and children to whip up a wave of hysteria.
It sometimes seems Rape Crisis Centres, Women's Aid and Zero Tolerance
are
only providing a salary for doing what feminists like best - vilifying
men.
Erin Pizzey, who founded Women's Aid with her own money, was hounded
out in
a feminist takeover.
Erin has told me her great crime was to tell the truth about violent
relationships.
She said: "Out of the first 100 women who came to my refuge at
Chiswick, in
west London, 62 were as violent as the men they had left."
Man-hating feminists are trying to establish a defence to murder -
"battered
woman syndrome" - to overturn the centuries-old acceptance that
premeditated
killing is murder.
Battered women undoubtedly exist, as do battered men, but there has
been an
increasing number of killings where victims' relatives believe an
abusive
partner has pulled the wool over the eyes of judge and jury.
When a man is given a light sentence for a domestic killing, he is
"obviously a brute who got off".
If a woman kills a man, she is automatically an abuse victim who needs
therapy, not prison.
This year Kim Galbraith cold-bloodedly murdered her policeman husband
in
Argyll. Immediately and unthinkingly a "Justice for Kim"
campaign group was
founded. But it has withered on the vine somewhat as it has since
become obvious
that Galbraith got her just desserts.
The pet politicians of these feminists know what side their politically
correct bread is buttered on and choose to ignore any contradictory evidence.
The feminist victimology industry invents phoney statistics almost
faster
than we can discredit them.
THE British Crime Survey, plus various academic surveys and those by
hospital A&E departments, indicate that domestic violence is
initiated by men or
women almost equally - with the man more likely to be seriously injured
because
the weaker woman will use a weapon or throw boiling or corrosive
fluids.
Domestic violence between warring parents is an ugly thing that scars
and
mars the one definitely innocent party - the children. It will not be
reduced by
a doctrinaire feminist approach. It is time for an honest and holistic
appraisal
of the problem.
Rape and child abuse - the dread of every parent - are the most potent
weapons in the feminist campaign to remove fathers from the family,
despite
strong evidence that a father is the most important defence against
child abuse.
NSPCC studies show that a child is much more likely to be violently or
sexually
abused (by either sex) when the natural father is absent or excluded
from the
home.
Some Rape Crisis Centres propagate the lie that "all men are
potential
rapists." It is an article of faith that the woman must always be
believed.
What they do not want is a law that punishes equally women who falsely
try
to send a man to jail for many years. Indeed, they don't want a woman
to ever go
to jail. Henry McLeish, when Scottish Prisons Minister, said he wanted
to
implement plans to have no women in prison at all by 2002. Clive Fairweather,
HM
Inspector of Prisons, has also made frequent calls for less women in
jail.
It is strange how the prophets of the new religion of
"equality" change
their tune when equality means women must lose something and men must
gain.
It is many centuries since one particular section of society was above
the
common law of Britain - they were called the aristocracy. Our
politicians are
allowing some women the privileges of an aristocracy that was rejected
- to kill
without punishment.
Any society where one section of the population has less protection
from the
law is inherently flawed and unjust.
George McAulay is chairman of the UK Mens' Movement.
LOAD-DATE: September 7, 2000
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Copyright 2000 Guardian Newspapers Limited
The Guardian (London)
June 17, 2000
SECTION: Guardian Leader Pages, Pg. 25
LENGTH: 196 words
HEADLINE: Letter: Still no justice for some
BYLINE: Erin Pizzey
BODY:
Martin Narey's letter, headlined "I try to stop prisoners killing
themselves" (June 16) took my breath away. My 22-year-old grandson
committed
suicide in Wandsworth prison on February 1 this year.
Keita had a history of suffering from schizophrenia, he attempted
self-harm
by hanging on a previous occasion and had begged to be saved from his
own
overwhelming fear that he might kill himself. Yet it was felt that
there was no
need to continue a 15-minute suicide watch on Keita. His trainer laces
were
returned to him, which he subsequently used to hang himself.
There have been 39 suicides in prisons in this country already this
year,
how dare Martin Narey write a mewling, puking letter in the Guardian
trying to
justify his role in the epidemic of vulnerable people driven to kill
themselves
while most of them are on remand? Unless and until prison governors in
this
country band together and tell Jack Straw that they refuse to act as
dumping
grounds for the National Health Service, mentally ill patients like my
grandson
will continue to die while in the "care" of the prison
service.
Erin Pizzey
London pizzey@pizzey1.freeservice.
co.uk
LOAD-DATE: June 19, 2000
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Copyright 2000 Associated Newspapers Ltd.
MAIL ON SUNDAY
April 9, 2000
SECTION: Pg. 16
LENGTH: 1031 words
HEADLINE: The parent trap;
Abused as a child, Erin Pizzey's knowledge of family violence prompted
her to
found the first refuge for battered wives
BYLINE: Lina Das
BODY:
So what can I say about my childhood, except that it was pretty
dreadful? My
father was a diplomat and we travelled all over the world, living in
Beirut,
Hong Kong and Shanghai among other places. He had been one of 17
children and
therefore felt terribly jealous of the toys and things my brother, my
sister and
I had.
My mother, who had been given away when she was two, simply hated me.
Once,
when we were living in Canada, I was outside, giving away dollar bills
to
strangers - don't ask me why - and my mum started beating me with an
iron flex.
Blood was running down my legs, but when I showed my teacher, all she
said was:
'No wonder. You're a terrible child.'
Anything would set my mother off, and her moods would change in a split
second, so that one minute she would be full of fun, the next a raging,
spitting
monster. It meant that I quickly learned to gauge people's moods.
She never kissed me or touched me with any affection, but beat me
regularly.
In a strange way, however, I felt lucky - I would hear my sister, Kate,
having to talk absolute rubbish with her and I was glad I didn't have
to do the
same.
We all suffered from her moods. Much of the time she simply 'numbed
out', as
we called it - sat there saying nothing for days. It was impossible to
live
with.
My father wasn't much better and used to terrorise us. He was a
seriously
violent bully, and was particularly jealous of my brother Danny (who
went on to
become a bestselling novelist). He was the sort of man who would make
Danny take
his shoes off and then taunt him by saying his feet smelled, even when
they
didn't.
He felt jealous of our so-called privileges, telling us we had too much
comfort in our lives when he had had none in his own childhood. He
thought it
was great fun to blow smoke up our dogs' nostrils.
Probably the most disconcerting thing that happened was when we were in
Persia and I woke up to find him in my bed. He would often complain to
me that
he wasn't getting sex from my mother, and my mother would do the same,
so I
would end up having to mediate between them.
My father was very careless personally, often standing in front of me
with
no clothes on and insisting on kissing both my sister and me on the
mouth. If my
sister was having a bath, he'd simply say it was his house and he could
come in
whenever he chose. He was a frightening man. My mum died when I was 17
and I
left home two days later - I was terrified of what he would do to me.
The problem is, when your parents use their power harshly on you, it
teaches
you how to use power, too. I learned everything about manipulation from
my
parents and, although it sounds horrible, I flirted with my father to
make him
feel wanted, so that he would give me things in return.
When I was 16, I desperately wanted a gramophone, but when a young girl
uses
her sexuality to get things, it's a dangerous thing. I remember feeling
disgusted with the whole business. I became an ace manipulator in my
time,
although it certainly served me well later on in life when it came to
finding
the funds to make my refuge work.
As a manipulator, I developed strategies to survive. I once held my
school
to ransom by climbing on top of the roof, but dragged the richest girl
in the
school up with me. I knew the school wouldn't get rid of her because
she was
rich, so they couldn't get rid of me, either. All I wanted was some
attention
and for people to like me, but because I never saw any normal behaviour
at home,
I didn't know how to behave normally myself.
Neither of my parents lost any time in telling me how ugly they thought
I
was. But I liked boys, even though I never felt particularly attractive
around
them, and despite what people might think, I still like them. I
understand them
and like their chivalry and sense of fun. Although I'm 60, I've only
had three
relationships, although I have many male friends. I married quite young
at 20
because I wanted what I never had: a proper family.
I suppose I've always been a real outsider. I was always the
troublemaker,
always the one who got kicked out of the Brownies. Even when I thought
I was
doing right by women, the feminists would often cry: 'Pizzey's the
pits.' It
would be nice, occasionally, to find people with whom I fit in.
In all my work for women, I've come across some pretty evil men, but
the
only man I've ever been afraid of was my father. Even now, if I'm
walking down
the street and see a big man with broad shoulders, wearing a hat, my
stomach
clenches immediately. My mother was quite short - about 4ft 9in - and
when 4ft
9in tall women used to come to my refuge, I'd always find myself trying
to
reform them. I had to teach myself to stop.
My childhood affected my whole life. I once lifted a hand to my
children,
Amos and Cleo, and I felt shattered by what I had done. The thought
that I could
be turning into my mother terrified me, and I didn't hit them again. It
has also
made me terrified of arguments. I hate quarrelling of any sort, and
will do
anything to avoid it.
Even though my mother appeared to favour my siblings, I still feel they
had
a rougher time than me because she cannibalised them. In my mother's
opinion, my
sister was born to marry a lord, my brother was born to be a famous
writer,
while I was simply born to be hanged. She found fault with everything I
did. The
real damage was done by her - knowing that she didn't want me was a
terribly
wounding thing to deal with.
The way I see it, I can either wallow in the unhappiness my childhood
caused
me, or find something valuable in it. Everything that happened prepared
me for
the life I eventually led, and I found that through writing I was able
to have a
decent childhood because my imagination was set free. Writing is the
best way I
know of distilling pain.
I must admit, though, I still find it hard to accept I'm worth
anything.
Sometimes, my daughter will say: 'Mum, you've founded a world movement.
Don't be so silly.' And only then will I realise I'm not that worthless
after
all.
Erin Pizzey is the founder of the women's charity Refuge and now writes
novels and lectures on male violence
LOAD-DATE: April 17, 2000
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Copyright 2000 Times Newspapers Limited
Sunday Times (London)
February 13, 2000, Sunday
SECTION: Features
LENGTH: 1405 words
HEADLINE: The fight of my life with the family curse
BYLINE: Erin Pizzey
BODY:
Erin Pizzey tells of her struggle with the disease that has struck four
out
of the five members of her family
I knew something was wrong. I was struggling to finish my new novel
tucked
away in a friend's isolated house in Tuscany. It was late September and
we sat
on the terrace wrapped in shawls in the cool of the evening watching
the
fireflies sweep down from the fields and settle on the table, flashing
hopefully
beside my wine glass.
I wasn't hopeful, I was frightened. I knew any menopausal woman of my
age
should not be bleeding. I was bleeding, only slightly, but enough to
make me
recognise that I might possibly have cancer.
My mother contracted breast cancer when I was 14. She didn't get the
lump
diagnosed until it was far too late, but her battle overshadowed the
lives of
her three children.
I remember the savage wound that removed her breast and then continued
to
coil under her arm. I remember the burnt brown skin from the radiation.
I
remember her saying that the damage from the radiation was worse than
the pain.
I remember my father's collapse at the news that her cancer was now
terminal and
his inability to protect my brother, my twin sister and myself from the
brutal
realities of the disease.
My mother was 49 when she died. I remember her pain and her agonised
fight
against all odds to live. "Die, damn you die," I whispered as
her writhing body
continued to haunt us on our daily visits to the little local hospital
in Devon.
When she did finally die after three years of agony, I remember beaming
at
my twin sister over my father's bowed head. The feeling of peace was
indescribable and I spent the rest of the night on my knees begging
God's
forgiveness for wishing her dead, but grateful that she was now with
him and no
longer suffering. I took a vow then that should I ever contract cancer,
I would
not officiously strive to stay alive.
One in three people dies of cancer; in my family four out of five of us
have
had cancer. Those figures are stamped on my heart. My brother Danny
telephoned
from Zimbabwe in the early 1980s to say that he had a small melanoma on
his arm
and was coming to London to have it cut out. He wrote the book The Wild
Geese,
which became a successful film. He didn't tell me the cancer had come
back. One
day at 8am I got a telephone call from Zimbabwe to tell me that he was
dead. He
was in his early forties.
During his last conversation with me he said: "I've no more book
contracts
or film deals." Later, his son told me that Danny refused the
chemotherapy that
could possibly have saved him. I felt as if my bitter mother called him
from her
grave.
My father died of emphysema at a very late age. I comforted myself that
I
followed after his side of the family. The wild Irish Carneys - my
maiden name -
die of heart attacks brought on by years of excessive living, and my
frightening
father smoked 100 cigarettes a day.
But then two years ago my twin sister called to say that she had had a
malignant lump removed from her breast. There was nothing to worry
about, she
was fine. She told me that when the cancer was diagnosed, very early,
it was
almost a relief. She, too, had been haunted by the curse of cancer in
the
family.
I went to my doctor as soon as I came back from Italy. She confirmed
that I
was bleeding and said she would write to my local hospital in Kingston,
southwest London. The registrar was warm and sensible and said she
would get me
an appointment for a D&C plus an endoscopy (a small light is
inserted into the
uterus).
I woke up from the anaesthetic to see her concerned face bending over
me.
"Am I all right?" I asked her. She promised me from our first
interview that she
would always tell me the truth.
"There is a tumour," she said, "but it is well defined.
Whatever happens,
the decision is that you do need a hysterectomy." I was wheeled
back into the
ward and waited for my daughter and my small grandson to collect me.
Now it was
a question of waiting for the biopsy results. Whatever the outcome, I
was going
to join the regiment of wombless women and that in itself created a
sense of
loss.
I didn't doubt that the tumour was malignant. During the years when I
ran
refuges for women taking shelter from toxic and malignant relationships
in
various parts of the world, I often faced great danger. Now the danger
I faced
was from within.
Oddly enough, at a very low point in the whole proceedings, I
remembered my
father's most absurd behaviour. When faced with any attempt to
challenge his
violent and bullying ways, he would rise to his feet, flail his arms
around his
head and announce at the top of his voice, "Up with this I will
not put." I
decided to follow his example.
What I did not expect was the attitude of my friends. When faced with
the
question, "How are you?" I felt forced to say in all honesty,
"I'm not very
well. I am going into hospital to have a hysterectomy because I might
have
cancer." This resulted in two responses. The first was to shy away
from the "C"
word as if it were catching. A clearing of the throat and a shifting of
the eyes
indicated the conversation had gone far enough.
The second response was even more alarming. Suddenly people whom I'd
not
suspected of harbouring horror stories blurted forth terrible tales of
women
they knew who had woken up from their anaesthesia minus parts of their
anatomy.
"She lost six inches of her bowel and ended up with a colostomy
bag," was one of
the stories that haunted me. When I did finally end up with an
appointment with
my consultant gynaecologist, I was a mass of unresolved insecurities.
However, by then my usual sense of humour reasserted itself. Years ago,
when
I was running the Chiswick Refuge, I fended off our almost permanent
nit
infections with a daily diet of garlic and red wine. I decided to
attack my
tumour with lashings of red wine, hoping that it would be too sozzled
to move
and I would be too inebriated to care.
"The bad news is that you do have a malignant tumour," my
consultant said on
my next appointment. "But the good news is that it is
curable." She told me that
I would have to have a total hysterectomy.
"Let's go for it," I replied, and then on the way home I
wondered what
happened to women who were gutted like fish.
My anxious son drove me to the hospital. My role as a powerful mother
and
grandmother was now reduced to a grateful acceptance of the love and
affection
of my children and grandchildren. I was resigned to whatever it would
take to
rid myself of this unwanted squatter.
My anaesthetist decided that I should be given a spinal anaesthetic. I
had
not planned to be awake during the operation but, given that I was
helplessly
crucified by the injection, there was not much I could do about it. I
felt as if
my doctors were riffling through a large handbag that was my stomach. I
lay flat
on my back and listened to the snipping, the prodding and the poking.
I felt privileged to be operated on by two women. When I was a
teenager, I
told my mother I would like to be a surgeon. My mother replied that it
would be
impossible, but I could always marry one.
The operation over, I wanted to see my uterus and my obliging
anaesthetist
arrived with this tiny little deflated balloon, sitting on a piece of
cotton
wool. I marvelled that anything so small could produce two strapping
children,
then resigned myself to its dispatch.
The next few days were lost in a miasma of morphine and the various
hurdles
that everyone has to go through to get back on their feet after an
operation.
I'm back home now, walking about with great delicacy. My children have
discovered that I am not invincible and I am in need of their care for
a change.
Friends rally round and I tiptoe about the flat. I am left with a very
humble feeling that even though I was aware of the blight that hung
over my
life, I might be one of the lucky ones and have more years added to my
life than
I first imagined. I am aware that cancer treatment has come a long way
from the
dreadful effects that burnt my mother to a cinder.
I am sure there are thousands of people who, like me, face this disease
and
recognise that these days cancer is not the dreadful scourge it was in
her day.
What this battle has done for me is to make me feel that God has given
me back
my life, and every extra day of my reprieved existence is even more
precious.
LOAD-DATE: February 14, 2000
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Copyright 1999 Associated Newspapers Ltd.
The Evening Standard (London)
December 1, 1999
SECTION: Pg. 28
LENGTH: 169 words
HEADLINE: Domestic violence isn't a man thing
BODY:
THANK you AN Wilson for mentioning my "brave experiment'' in
opening the
first refuge for battered women and their children in 1971 (All's fair
and foul
in love and marriage, 29 November). May I correct you and point out
that I
didn't "give up'' because too many returned to their tormentors.
I left England because I could prove that many of the women were just
as
violent as the men they left and that many of the men were victims of their
partner's violence. The whole subject was hijacked by the feminists and
I was
not only threatened but could see years of political disinforma-tion
aimed at
destroying men and marriage ahead.
Most men in this country would not dream of raising a fist to a woman
or a
child. I can only suggest that Glenda Jackson learns to make her choice
of men
more wisely. I for one will not be wearing a ribbon until we all
publicly accept
that domestic violence is not a gender issue and that the ribbon
admonishes both
sexes.
Erin Pizzey, Twickenham, Middx.
LOAD-DATE: December 7, 1999
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Copyright 1999 Guardian Newspapers Limited
The Guardian (London)
July 17, 1999
SECTION: Guardian Features Pages; Pg. 23
LENGTH: 22 words
HEADLINE: Letters: 'Middle Class'
BYLINE: ERIN PIZZEY
BODY:
I have always thought that calling yourself middle class was a form of
mental illness.
Erin Pizzey
Twickenham,
Middx
LOAD-DATE: July 19, 1999
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Copyright 1999 Guardian Newspapers Limited
The Observer
July 4, 1999
SECTION: The Observer News Page; Pg. 27
LENGTH: 887 words
HEADLINE: Comment: If the hacks catch you at it, the first rule is keep mum
BYLINE: RICHARD WILLIAMS
BODY:
A visit to the BBC's Breakfast with Frost studio last Sunday reminded
me
that the last time I was there a fellow guest on the programme was
Geoff
Boycott, then protesting his innocence of charges of domestic violence
brought
by a one -time partner in a French court.
Like many celebrities in a similar situation, Boycott, who had been
sacked
by the Sun and the BBC as a result of the case, had consulted the
public
relations guru, Mr Max Clifford, who arranged for him a number of media
appearances (including one with David Frost) to allow him to present
his case.
Another guest on the programme, Carol Thatcher, joined me in advising
the
famous cricketer that this was absolutely the wrong thing to do. We
both told
Boycott that he should lie low for at least six months at the end of
which time
the tabloids would have completely forgotten about any alleged
misdemeanours.
I don't know whether he was impressed by our advice but, certainly
since
then, I saw little about Boycott in the press until the other day when
I noticed
that he had been taken on by the Times to write about the new Test
Match series.
Peter Mandelson has a shrewder grasp of public relations than Geoffrey
Boycott. After his shock resignation six months ago, he prudently lay
low and is
only now re-emerging into public life, hoping that not too many people
will have
the bad taste to refer to his famous pounds 350,000 loan from Geoffrey
Robinson,
despite the parliamentary watchdog's conclusion last week that he had
broken
House of Commons rules.
This tactic reminds me a little of Camilla Parker Bowles. She, too, is
edging very gradually on to the public stage at the side of Prince
Charles in
the hope that her presence will sooner or later be taken for granted by
the
public.
I wonder whether Peter Mandelson, a recent visitor to Sandringham, has
been
advising the Prince and his partner on their public relations
technique. He
would almost certainly be more helpful than Max Clifford.
Sally pally I don't imagine that Baroness Jay is an aficionado, like
some of
us, of Coronation Street. If she were, she would not have chosen
actress Sally
Whittaker, who plays Sally Webster in the soap, to appear at her side
last week
to launch a government campaign to stamp out violence against women in
the home.
(It is perhaps worth remembering that the last political figure to
parade in
public alongside a Coronation Street star was Mr Neil Hamilton, who was
supported in his disastrous 1997 election campaign by the Street's Ken
Barlow,
actor William Roache).
In a cast of increasingly less lovable characters (now that the famous
soap
has been dumbed down by Granada), Sally Webster is one of the least
appealing.
Sharp and shrewish, for ever whining and complaining about something or
other,
Sally was presumably enrolled by Lady Jay because, in the story, she
was
recently the victim of violence at the hand of her lover, the sinister
Greg
Kelly, with whom she had set up home. Few viewers, however, would have
been too
much appalled by the sight of Sally being knocked about, concluding,
perhaps
unfairly, that she had it coming to her.
There must be something phony about a campaign that aims to appeal to
the
public with the help of a factious character from a TV soap. In this
instance,
the humbug is that domestic violence is exclusively perpetrated by men
against
women, whereas it would seem obvious that women (particularly single
mothers)
are most likely to be driven to violence against small children while,
as far as
adults are concerned, I personally know of just as many men who have
been
violently attacked by women and vice versa. But this is something that
only the
veteran campaigner, Erin Pizzey, dares to say in today's politically
correct
climate.
Willie wonk 'Every Prime Minister needs a Willie.' Lord Whitelaw's
death has
redivided the debate about whether Lady Thatcher's famous joke was
intentional.
The answer is almost certainly that it wasn't. In fact, I don't think
Lady
Thatcher ever made a joke of her own during her long career in
politics. All her
jokes at conference time were provided for her by the playwright,
Ronald Millar,
who was eventually awarded a knighthood for such brilliant gems as 'the
lady's
is not for turning'.
Harold Wilson was probably the last Prime Minister who made jokes
without
the help of scriptwriters. Edward Heath, though laughing quite often
with
heaving shoulders, never said anything funny or even memorable in his
life. John
Major, despite his father's career in variety, was equally humourless.
Malcolm Muggeridge used to divide Prime Ministers into bookies and
clergyman. The reverend Blair falls very definitely into the second
category.
Hague however hopes to make it to the top using a more bookie-like
approach.
Unlike Blair, he is also quite funny in his weekly performance at the
Dispatch
Box. But again, the jokes, to my practised ear, come a bit too pat to
be
spontaneous and suggest that there is a team of gag-writers behind the
scenes
feeding him with one-liners.
About the only political figure to make a good joke in recent times was
the
late Screaming Lord Sutch. One speaker at his funeral last week
reminded the
congregation of Sutch's pointful query: 'Why is there only one
Monopolies
Commission?'
LOAD-DATE: July 6, 1999
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