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
LENGTH: 292 words
BYLINE: By Rebecca Mowling
 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
 "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
 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
LOAD-DATE: January 21, 2002
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                    Copyright 2001 Newspaper Publishing PLC
                         Independent on Sunday (London)
                            December 2, 2001, Sunday
LENGTH: 969 words
BYLINE: Robert Mendick
 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
 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
 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.
 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.
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                   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
 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
 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

LOAD-DATE: November 26, 2001
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                   Copyright 2001 Associated Newspapers Ltd.
                                 MAIL ON SUNDAY
                               September 30, 2001
LENGTH: 1167 words
HEADLINE: I'm a feminist that's why I wanted my granddaughter to be a sexual
 How the founder of Refuge, the shelter for battered wives, recruited Amber, 22,
 for the 'infidelity in paradise' TV show
BYLINE: Erin Pizzey
 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
 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
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                       Copyright 2001 EXPRESS NEWSPAPERS
                                 Sunday Express
                               September 2, 2001
LENGTH: 1582 words
 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
 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
 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
 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
 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
 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
 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
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                     Copyright 2001 Telegraph Group Limited
                          THE DAILY TELEGRAPH(LONDON)
                            August 17, 2001, Friday
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
 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
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
 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
LENGTH: 483 words
BYLINE: Sophie Goodchild And Louise Jury
 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
 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."
LOAD-DATE: March 4, 2001
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                 Copyright 2001 The Scotsman Publications Ltd.
                               Scotland on Sunday
                            January 14, 2001, Sunday
LENGTH: 1141 words
BYLINE: By Erin Pizzey
 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
 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
 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
LOAD-DATE: January 15, 2001
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                       Copyright 2001 EXPRESS NEWSPAPERS
                                  The Express
                                January 13, 2001
LENGTH: 108 words
 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,
LOAD-DATE: January 30, 2001
                              59 of 278 DOCUMENTS
                 Copyright 2001 The Scotsman Publications Ltd.
                                  The Scotsman
                            January 12, 2001, Friday
LENGTH: 774 words
BYLINE: Linda Watson-Brown
 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
 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
 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

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
 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
 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

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
 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

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
 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
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                 Copyright 2000 The Scotsman Publications Ltd.
                            Evening News (Edinburgh)
                          September 6, 2000, Wednesday
LENGTH: 885 words
BYLINE: By George Mcaulay
 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
 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
 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
 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
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
 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
 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
 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
 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
 Erin Pizzey is the founder of the women's charity Refuge and now writes
 novels and lectures on male violence

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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
 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
 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
 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
 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
 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
                              87 of 278 DOCUMENTS
                   Copyright 1999 Associated Newspapers Ltd.
                         The Evening Standard (London)
                                December 1, 1999
LENGTH: 169 words
HEADLINE: Domestic violence isn't a man thing
 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
 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'
 I have always thought that calling yourself middle class was a form of
 mental illness.
 Erin Pizzey

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
 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
 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
 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

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                        Copyright 1999 New Statesman Ltd
                                 New Statesman
                                 June 28, 1999
LENGTH: 905 words
HEADLINE: Office politics at London Weekend TV were the psychological equivalent
 of Kosovan genocide
BYLINE: Oliver James
 Am introduced on a radio programme as 'the celebrity psychoanalyst who made
 Peter Mandelson cry on TV'. Having failed to recover from this ignominious and
 not wholly accurate description, I do not do well. Returning home, who should I
 see driving down Westbourne Grove in Notting Hill but a glum-looking Mandelson.
 I reflect that however Machiavellian and dastardly he may have been in his
 political relationships, he did not deserve to be turfed out of his home as well
 as the cabinet for what was, in the end, a fairly minor cock-up. But people are
 cruel and maybe what goes around comes around.

 Meanwhile in Kosovo the genocide tally reaches 10,000, and, over a quattro
 formaggio at the Pizza Express in Notting Hill, my normally wise and critical
 chum Tim is still maintaining that the war was 'an exceptionally courageous
 moral act with truly humanitarian motives. Blair was faced with extremely
 difficult choices and, for the first time, a prime minister insisted that
 something be done to stop this kind of thing.'
 In between bites of my American hot (with extra cheese and sausage), I
 object that, by bombing, Blair removed the only real protection which existed
 for the Kosovar Albanians: the press and broadcast media and the OCSE UN force.
 Tim claims that the genocide would have happened anyway. But, in that case, why
 had it not happened already? Can there be any doubt at all that the Nato
 intervention caused these extra deaths as well as the deportation of 800,000 and
 the homelessness of a further 600,000 that would never have otherwise occurred?
 I accept that it was right to act against Milosevic but it seems hard to believe
 that bombing was the correct strategy.

 The Sunday Times calls to ask why the genre of fictions based on serial
 killers in general and Thomas Harris's Hannibal Lecter in particular are so
 popular. I am reminded of a series of research studies published after the
 second world war.
 The philanthropic editor of the Observer David Astor set up a unit at Sussex
 University to identify the social psychological causes of genocidal behaviour.
 (Although he has never made a fuss about it, Astor's other far-sighted
 benefactions included providing George Orwell with a home in which to write
 Nineteen Eighty-Four, supporting E F Schumacher, funding organic farming in the
 1970s and helping Erin Pizzey to set up the first Women's Aid hostel.)
 The most important alumnus of this unit was Anthony Storr, whose book Human
 Aggression, published in 1970, is still in print. It concluded: 'The sombre fact
 is that we are the cruellest and most ruthless species that has ever walked the

 Having idly watched Channel 4's late-night round-up of the papers, The
 Sundays, and been appalled by the shallowness of both the papers being reviewed
 and the pundits on the programme (bring back After Dark on Saturday nights is
 what I say), I nonetheless dutifully tuck into the papers over my organic
 vegetable juice cocktail breakfast. For the first time in years I find much to
 interest me (mostly the Saturdays have destroyed the old excitement one felt
 opening a Sunday paper).
 In particular I am astonished by a paean by Andrew Marr in the Observer to
 the diligence and ability of the men who spewed out of London Weekend Television
 during the 1980s and who are now, according to Marr, along with graduates of
 McKinsey, said to be running Britain (for example, the BBC tyros Sir Christopher
 Bland and Sir John Birt, Lord Bragg of Middlebrow, the wannabe London mayor
 Trevor Phillips and the wannabe BBC director-general Greg Dyke).
 How could Marr regard this coterie as benign and talented, rather than
 ambitious mediocrities? Certainly few in television agree with him, regarding
 LWT-ites more as a virulent poison that has infected the rest of the industry.
 (Don't forget that these assorted millionaires were turfed out of their building
 after being taken over by Granada.) If you stop to think about it, even in its
 1980s heyday LWT was always a schizophrenic combination of the most garish,
 embarrassing light entertainment (The Price Is Right) and the most constipated,
 anal current affairs (Weekend World). Worst of all, the culture at LWT was
 vicious and Machiavellian, with office politics that were the psychological
 equivalent of Kosovan genocide.
 Do not take my word for this, listen to the wisdom of one who knew. He
 identified 'a sort of LWT legionnaire's disease' in the air conditioning of the
 South Bank offices. 'Nice ordinary people come in here and go out crazed and
 power-hungry,' he said.
 John Birt and Christopher Bland have long since made the journey across the
 river to the BBC and introduced these admirable qualities to an organisation
 that was once a pleasure to work for. As the BBC governors consider their
 options for a new D-G, they should bear in mind that the author of this accurate
 evaluation of the LWT culture was none other than . . . Greg Dyke.

 A little girl in the park is talking to her younger brother: 'I will eat you
 all up, beginning with your toes.' He looks properly alarmed.
 The potential for Hannibal Lecter, Kosovan genocide and LWT office politics
 lies within us all from very early on. It is ultimately up to parents and
 governments to ensure that our altruistic and creative instincts are reinforced
 and the cruel, sick side restricted. After all, what goes around comes around .
 . .

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                                  The Scotsman
                            March 30, 1999, Tuesday
LENGTH: 1523 words
BYLINE: Erin Pizzey
 I GREATLY hoped, when the women's movement first began to form in England in
 the late Sixties and early Seventies, that married women like myself, at home
 bringing up our children, would no longer be isolated. I strongly believed that
 the family was the cornerstone of any civilisation.
 I was born in China and most of my formative years were spent in the Middle
 East. When I married and returned to England, I hadn't realised that in our
 western world, the role of motherhood left those of us who chose to be at home,
 virtual outcasts. I imagined that this new women's liberation movement would
 devise strategies where all women from every walk of life could meet together to
 work for equality for women in the workplace, in education and, more
 importantly, to raise the consciousness of the government and the nation to the
 vital work done by mothers in the home.
 In 1971, I flocked with my friends to the first feminist collectives held in
 London and other major cities of the country to listen to the prophets of the
 new revolution. Most of us were appalled at what we heard and intimidated by the
 rage and fury of the visionaries who claimed that they were speaking on behalf
 of "all women." I did not want to join a movement that preached hatred of family
 life and of men. Many of the women in those early days of the women's liberation
 movement defected back to their homes and to their husbands.
 My vision for the future for women who chose marriage and family life was
 too fierce to turn my back on the thousands of women in this country who also
 believed that we needed to redefine women's role in the community. I stayed to
 argue with the leading proponents of the movement. I pointed out that I
 considered it a luxury to have a husband who paid the mortgage so that I could
 be at home with our children. Like so many women, I had been forced to go out to
 work in order to help pay the bills. I had to leave my little daughter with a
 child-minder and I suffered, like so many women do, from the guilt and the
 exhaustion of too many demands upon me and not enough time. I refused, I said,
 to see the family as a "place of oppression" and to define my husband as "my
 Finally, those of us who opposed the Marxist feminist leadership were driven
 out of the movement. We objected to the violence taking place in England at that
 time. We did not see the invasion of the Miss World contest in 1970 by the
 women's movement as a blow for women's liberation, nor did we applaud the
 bombing of the BBC van outside the contest later that night (various anarchist
 groups were implicated).
 When in 1972 the Kensington boutique Biba was also bombed, I realised that
 there was no place for me any longer among these violent and disastrous
 What I did feel, listening and working in the women's liberation offices in
 Little Newport Street, in London, was that many of the leading lights in this
 movement, while chanting their slogan "the personal is political", were in
 denial of their own violent and abused childhoods. I see them as "wounded
 Unable to take responsibility for themselves and their damage, they
 projected their rage and their discontent, on to "all men".
 The fact that I was driven out of the movement only gave me the impetus to
 move on and to find a small house in Hounslow which I was given at a peppercorn
 rent. Here, with our children, we could meet and use our many and varied talents
 to work within our communities. Very soon the first "battered women", arrived
 and asked for refuge. Then, for me, the nightmare began. I realised as the women
 poured through the door with their children, that it would not be long before
 the women's movement would also put on an appearance. I still had contacts
 within the movement. They reported that the movement no longer had any popular
 support from women across the country and that they also had no more funding.
 By this time, I was very aware that while many of the women were indeed
 "innocent victims of their partner's violence", many were not. Of the first
 hundred women that came into my refuge, 62 were as violent as the men they left.
 They were not "victims of their partner's violence." They were "victims of their
 own violence".
 Most of these women had experienced sexual abuse and violence in their own
 childhoods. Not only were they violent in the refuge but they were also violent
 and abusive to their children. They were the women most likely to go back to
 their violent partners or if they left, to go on to form another violent
 These were the women who most need our love and concern. I also saw all the
 men who came looking for their partners and their children. I could see quite
 plainly that domestic violence was not a gender issue. Both men and women could
 be equally violent. What I had to say was suppressed. Feminist journalists and
 radical feminist editors in publishing houses controlled the flow of information
 to the public. By now the feminist movement had a stranglehold on the subject of
 domestic violence. They had found a cause to further their political vision of a
 world without the family and without men.
 They also had the access to money.
 The abuse industry was born.
 Because of my opposition to the hijacking of the refuge movement, I was a
 target for abuse. Anywhere I spoke there was a contingent of screaming, heckling
 feminists waiting for me. Hounslow Council decided to proceed against me in
 court and I was packed to go to prison for most of the 12 years that I ran my
 refuge. Abusive telephone calls to my home, death threats and bomb scares became
 a way of living for me and for my family. Finally, the bomb squad asked me to
 have all my mail delivered to their headquarters. The final outrage occurred
 when I was asked to travel to Aberdeen University to stand as a candidate for
 the post of rector for the university in 1981. I was hopeful that I could have
 an influence on the young students at the university. At the polling booths
 Scottish Women's Aid made it their business to hand out leaflets claiming that I
 believed that women "invited violence", and "provoked male violence".
 Exhausted and disillusioned at the growing hostility towards men in the
 courts and the lack of support for family life from the government, I went
 reluctantly into exile with my children and grandchildren. My plan was to go to
 Santa Fe, New Mexico, to write novels. I thought then that I could reach the
 people who read my non-fiction in my novels.
 Very soon I was running another refuge nearby and working against sexual
 abusers and paedophiles. I found to my cost that Santa Fe was sufficiently
 lawless to attract those dangerous people. When I returned to England for the
 publication of my book, Prone to Violence, I was met with a solid wall of
 feminist demonstrators. "All men are rapists", "All men are batterers", read the
 placards. The police insisted that I have an escort all round England for my
 book tour. By then I knew that my position in America could not be permanent.
 The women's movement there was even stronger and their stranglehold over the
 refuges (called shelters) and access to government and state resources was
 almost absolute. Although I was invited to lecture, every time I did the gender
 feminists were waiting to invade my workshops and to heckle my speeches. The
 threats and the persecution began again. Finally, one of my dogs was shot on
 Christmas Day on my property, and I knew the time had come to leave.
 In 1997, I was back to England again. I was homeless and penniless when a
 producer telephoned from the BBC and asked if I would do a programme with him
 for the BBC2 community programme unit. The film was called The Day That Changed
 My Life. Oddly enough, my refuge was the subject of one of the first films ever
 produced by the unit. I had good memories of the integrity of the programmes
 they made in those days and I agreed. The producer visited me in my homeless
 family hostel in Richmond and then decided that I should make a documentary for
 another series also run by his department called Counterblast. I was extremely
 doubtful that the programme would ever be aired. But the producer persisted and
 finally, Who's Failing The Family will be broadcast tonight.
 As a result of working on this film, I no longer feel so alone in this
 battle to save the traditional family. The people who have come to take part in
 the film are only a tip of the iceberg of concerned people in the rest of this
 country. Many others working in the field of domestic violence assured me that
 if they took part in the film, they would be personally threatened and
 intimidated. A few said they feared that their research would be withdrawn.
 Others were afraid of losing their jobs.
 I know these people are not paranoid. I have personal experience of the
 brooding evil of the gender feminists who are in positions of power in our
 society. When I am asked if I am afraid to continue to fight, I can only reply,
 "'Tis a mighty God I serve, of whom shall I be afraid?'"
 lCounterblast is on BBC2 at 7: 30pm tonight.
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                            The Independent (London)
                             March 28, 1999, Sunday
LENGTH: 815 words
BYLINE: Sophie Goodchild
 ERIN PIZZEY, pioneer of the battered wives refuge, has launched a blistering
 attack on the feminists who so enthusiastically endorsed her crusade against
 domestic violence. The "sisters" she says, have suppressed evidence that men are
 also "victims".
 In her new role as a champion of the abused male she has singled out Prince
 Charles as the prototype "battered husband".
 Women, she claims, are as violent in the home as men and many get a "sexual
 thrill" from beating their partners. On BBC2's Counterblast on Tuesday night,
 she will blame many of the ills of today's society on the feminists of the
 Sixties and Seventies. Prominent feminists, in turn, say she is talking
 In an interview with The Independent on Sunday, Ms Pizzey elaborated on her
 views. She claims violent women have often been abused themselves and they
 continue this destructive cycle in their own relationships.
 The Princess of Wales was a typical example in that she was physically
 attacked by her own father, said Ms Pizzey, who used the Spencer family as the
 inspiration for her novel of aristocratic violence, King of the Castle.
 "I wept the day Diana married Charles because she should have got therapy.
 She was physically abused by her father who was very violent and she followed
 that pattern in her own relationship.
 "My understanding is that Diana threw Raine Spencer down a flight of stairs.
 If Charles had attacked her it would have been national news. The Princess of
 Wales never had a chance."
 In denying the dark side of women, the problem will continue unabated. "The
 women I met in the hostels had often chosen to be prostitutes and there was a
 pattern of violence. They were physically or sexually abused as children. They
 are addicted to rollercoaster relationships with men and physical damage is a
 form of sexual intercourse. A woman achieves a great deal of sexual satisfaction
 this way, but this is too dark for women to talk about."
 To support her views, Ms Pizzey has engaged the help of male academics
 including Professor John Archer, who claims a third of domestic violence cases
 referred to in academic literature show men need medical attention after attacks
 by women.
 She may find further support in new research by sociologist Dr Michele
 Burman of the University of Glasgow into teenage girls' attitudes to violence,
 which reveals a widespread belief that fighting, particularly with boys, is
 "entirely appropriate" and "useful" for girls.
 The women's movement has a lot to answer for, said Ms Pizzey: by labelling
 men as aggressors, it has helped to destroy family life. But such controversy
 has long been her soulmate. After setting up the first women's refuge in
 Chiswick, west London, in 1971, she said that women were not always blameless.
 Death threats followed and she was ostracised by many feminists. She pours scorn
 on such women and the causes they espoused.
 "We are going to look on the feminist movement as a tragedy," she said.
 "Women have become career slaves and a whole generation will never marry or have
 children. Marriage protects women. All the pill has done is liberate men because
 it allows them to have casual sex. I saw the feminist movement as sisterhood and
 family but it wasn't."
 Of the first feminist wave she singles out Germaine Greer, whom she calls a
 "brilliant woman" who got it wrong when she said women were exactly like men.
 She attacks Bea Campbell and Andrea Dworkin as man-hating "gender" feminists.
 The response to Ms Pizzey's outburst is scathing in return. "You would have
 to be mad to think this," said writer and broadcaster Ms Campbell, now visiting
 professor of women's studies at Newcastle University.
 "She is saying feminism is mad, bad and dangerous. This attitude is
 disrespectful to women who have been abused and will divert attention away from
 the more important issues."
 Sheila Rowbotham, a research fellow at Manchester University and another
 early feminist, is equally dismissive. "Sometimes women like casual sex, too.
 "It is ridiculous to say that the women's movement is a tragedy - it has
 been incredibly important. She had a husband who worked in the media so had a
 lot of attention focused on her when there were a lot of other unsung women who
 also set up refuges. It's dangerous to overstate the fact that women commit
 domestic violence. She's talking nonsense."
 Anna Coote , a former adviser to Harriet Harman and prolific writer on
 women's issues, was equally dismissive. "She demonstrates her own ignorance by
 simplifying the feminist movement," Ms Coote said. "She falls into the trap of
 so many people of saying feminism is one thing when in fact it is very diverse
 and has many strengths and weaknesses.
 "The statistics speak for themselves in that men are the main perpetrators
 of domestic violence. I don't think anyone takes her seriously."
GRAPHIC: The dark side: Pizzey has attacked feminists for demonising men and
 denying that women can be as violent DAVID SANDISON
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                                  The Observer
                                 March 28, 1999
SECTION: The Observer News Page; Pg. 31
LENGTH: 683 words
HEADLINE: Comment: Let's have a big hand for battered women's most shameless
 Uncle Tom
 A recent study revealed that a good third of teenage males feel feminism has
 gone too far. These unhappy young men should find much to cheer them in
 Tuesday's edition of Counterblast, at 7.30pm on BBC2. On a programme entitled
 'Who's Failing The Family?', Erin Pizzey is the latest matronly male apologist
 to attempt to portray feminism as a civil war among women, rather than a state
 of grace for us all.
 Pizzey first came to distrust feminism when she went along to a meeting in
 the Seventies 'looking for friendship not revolution', and decided that she
 didn't like the cut of their Che Guevara posters. Since then, she has become
 convinced that feminists have hijacked the issue of domestic violence for their
 own wicked ends, turning it into an anti-male crusade. Never mind that, during
 the programme, she is actually seen being told by a bemused official that men
 are indeed responsible for 97 per cent of domestic violence, Pizzey will not be
 'I hate the prevailing climate that men are devils and women are angels,'
 she sighs, going on to argue: 'We've got to stop singling men out as the enemy
 of the family . . . if we don't, feminist thinking will go on ruining families.'
 Pizzey's views aren't exactly fresh she first aired them years ago in her book
 Prone To Violence, which argued that while some women are 'innocent victims' of
 violence, others are 'victims of their own violent relationships'. Which, in
 layman's terms, translates as: 'Some of those crazy bitches had it coming to
 them.' But Pizzey isn't your regular reactionary freak. As many will already be
 aware, what gives Pizzey's singular views on domestic violence an evergreen
 newsworthiness is the fact that, back in 1971, she was the founder of the first
 British women's refuge.
 In those days, desperate wives and mothers would turn to her for help from
 all over the country, little realising that she would later metamorphose into
 battered womankind's most shameless Uncle Tom. Your bruises could be every
 colour under the sun, and the worst ones often were, but your reputation had to
 be snow-white, otherwise Pizzey would later condemn you as being the 'kind of
 woman' who might conceivably invite, instigate, even enjoy violence.
 You can hear her on the programme, rattling on with absent-minded
 snootiness, about how some of those who came to her seeking refuge in the
 Seventies were prostitutes. By the look on her face, it is clear that Pizzey
 thinks that any hooker, however needy, had a nerve turning to a respectable
 women's refuge such as hers for help.
 At the heart of the matter is the fact that Pizzey seems to believe that the
 only kind of domestic-violence victim that exists, leastways the only kind that
 deserves sympathy, is the 'nice', unassuming, surburban mum, preferably
 working-class and middle-aged. Those who don't quite fit into this victim
 -profile become, in Pizzey's eyes, culpable, partly responsible for the attack.
 They were perhaps asking for a slap, being antagonistic, by not wearing a frilly
 apron, baking cakes or placating their man in the moments before the attack.
 Maybe they had a Che Guevara poster. Or, worse, maybe they hit him first, the
 psychotic cows! 'Women can be violent too,' Pizzey keeps saying, but we know
 that, and we also know that the numbers are few, and the damage done pathetic.
 Whatever Pizzey says, men are the main perpetuators of domestic violence, and it
 is they who should take the rap for any subsequent familial breakdown, not the
 feminist movement.
 The thought of men being frightened by violent women is ludicrous. We
 haven't got the numbers, and those who do exist rarely get to inflict real
 damage. As any woman who's ever fought a man knows, trying to hurt a man with
 your fists is like throwing a snowball into a live volcano. Pointless, and
 dangerous. I would even go so far as to argue that it is technically impossible
 for a woman to fight a man.
 It took me a while to realise this. It will probably take Pizzey longer. But
 there's a certain type of man out there who has known all along.

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                Copyright 1999 Scottish Media Newspapers Limited
                               The Sunday Herald
                                 March 28, 1999
LENGTH: 503 words
HEADLINE: Man behaving badly isn't violence, says Pizzey
BYLINE: By Eddie Gibb
 A SCOTTISH Office campaign against domestic violence has been attacked by
 Erin Pizzey, the founder of the first refuge for battered women in Britain. The
 television advertisement, which features a man shouting at his wife because his
 dinner is not ready, is aimed at both women and children who live in abusive
 But Pizzey claims the ad encourages children to report their parents on a
 helpline number. "The assumption is that if father comes home and raises his
 voice it is domestic abuse is ludicrous," she said. "To blow this into a huge
 thing that needs an ad is terrible. He was behaving badly, but it was not
 domestic violence."
 According to a Scottish Office spokeswoman, the ads avoid showing violence
 or its effects so they can be screened before the watershed. "When we showed
 images of badly beaten woman a lot of women thought, because they were not as
 bad as that, it couldn't be considered as abuse," she added.
 In a BBC2 programme called Who's Failing the Family, Pizzey argues that the
 issue of domestic violence has been "hi-jacked" by the feminist movement which
 has turned men into demon figures that threaten the family. She also criticises
 women-only refuges, which includes those in Scotland affiliated to Scottish
 Women's Aid.
 "No men are allowed in because there's this paranoia in refuges which
 creates a climate of fear against all men," said Pizzey.
 Erin Pizzey founded the first refuge in west London in 1971 as a place where
 women could escape abusive partners. These days she is regarded by refuges as a
 pioneer who lost touch with the reality of working with battered women. A refuge
 modelled on Pizzey's blueprint opened in Edinburgh in the mid-1970s, though from
 the start it was decided men should not be allowed on the premises.
 "Partly that was to ensure that we guaranteed women's safety," said Lesley
 Irving, national worker at Scottish Women's Aid. "It was also to provide a
 breathing space for women to have a rest from men's presence."
 Pizzey argues that the assumption that men have to be kept apart from women
 for their own safety turns them into victims, and ignores the causes of
 violence. She also questions the assumption that domestic violence is
 characterised by male attacks on women. "We have to have equity in this
 argument," she said. "Men and women are violent, let's not make it a gender war
 against men."
 Statistics released by Strathclyde Police last year contradict Pizzey's view
 that women are perpetrators of domestic violence. Of 1223 people charged or
 reported to the Procurator Fiscal or cautioned by police since the force's
 Spotlight initiative began, only 52 were women.
 "Erin Pizzey is voicing arguments we hear all the time when people want to
 talk about the one per cent of women who are violent," said Elaine Samson of the
 anti-abuse campaign, Zero Tolerance. "I would totally take issue with the claim
 that men are being demonised."
 Counterblast: Who's Failing the Family? Tuesday, 7.30pm, BBC2
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                             The Guardian (London)
                                 March 23, 1999
SECTION: The Guardian Feature Page; Pg. 6
LENGTH: 1149 words
HEADLINE: Women: Feminist n, adj.  a woman who destroys families, demonises men
 and lies through her teeth;
 Julie Bindell on the peculiar world of Erin Pizzey
 In 1977 a documentary was made about Britain's first refuge for battered
 women - the one famously set up by Erin Pizzey in Chiswick, London, in 1971.
 Next week Pizzey appears on our screen again when she gets a whole 30 minutes to
 herself on the BBC's opinion slot, Counterblast. She uses this opportunity to
 sound off about how, for the past 25 years, feminists have been involved in a
 conspiracy to 'destroy families and demonise men'. The programme includes a clip
 from the 1977 documentary, with a voiceover from Pizzey in which she tells
 viewers that in those days she was dealing with 'two very different types of
 women': 'innocent victims' and 'women who were the victims of their own violent
 Confused? Fear not, she goes on to explain. 'These women had been abused as
 children, were maybe prostitutes, they weren't battered women, innocent victims.
 I knew they would eventually go back to their own violent relationships, or go
 on to make further violent relationships.' One could be forgiven for thinking
 she is referring to women who inflict violence on themselves, but in fact Pizzey
 is referring to women who 'ask for it'.
 This is not the volte-face it may at first appear. Pizzey has a very
 difficult history within the women's movement. Meeting feminists for the first
 time in 1971, she declared that she was not looking for 'a revolution' but
 friendship; what she found, she later said, were women who 'simply hated men'.
 There was at that time a growing recognition that institutional sexism existed
 within the family, which was backed up by legal, financial and social
 structures. Men, feminists argued, expected a wife to 'cook, clean, and put
 out', resulting in women's lack of status in relation to her husband. Not so,
 said Pizzey. And she was, she claims, 'thrown out of the movement' for saying it
 (if only it was that easy).
 In 1974, at a national meeting to set up the Women's Aid Federation, she
 complained bitterly when delegates agreed to make the movement 'democratic'.
 Pizzey held the opinion that domestic violence was 'her issue'. She stormed out
 and wrote letters to local authorities and newspapers, claiming that funding for
 refuges should be refused because most of the women who would be running them
 were 'lesbians, feminists and communists'.
 This resulted in huge delays in setting up certain refuges and was the
 beginning of the rift between Pizzey and feminists working in the field. Pizzey
 seems to have dedicated her life to discrediting the refuge movement.
 Counterblast is a very confused film, based on Pizzey's theory that
 'feminists were looking for a cause, and funding, so they hijacked my issue'.
 Apparently, radical feminism has such a stranglehold on every institution in the
 land that 'no one dare speak out against them'. Except Pizzey, of course. Oh,
 and the eight people she found to interview on the programme, men and women, who
 shared her sentiments.
 And this is where feminists should take note. For although Pizzey can be
 dismissed as a bitter woman, she is not alone. A recent Home Office report on
 domestic violence, Breaking the Chain, stated that 'Equal numbers of men and
 women said they had been assaulted by a former or current partner'.
 Organisations such as Families Need Fathers and the UK Men's Movement have been
 arguing for some time that women are more violent than men, and that men are
 afforded no rights within the family. They blame feminists for this state of
 affairs, and for suppressing the evidence. So, is there any truth in these
 accusations? Certainly, violent women exist and there are a few cases each year
 of women battering their partners. An average of three per cent of all cases of
 domestic violence that police deal with is instigated by the woman. There are
 many instances of women retaliating to sustained violence from their partners by
 causing an injury. The Home Office report fails to outline the context in which
 domestic violence occurs - that male on female violence is far often more
 serious, ongoing and involves threats to kill, psychological abuse and sexual
 assault. Women are more likely to be stalked and harassed by her ex-partner once
 they have escaped the violent relationship, and an average of two women per week
 are killed as a result of domestic violence.
 In 1992, Families Need Fathers opened the first refuge for battered men in
 Southall, London. Not one bed was ever slept in. When I asked a member of FNF
 why he thought this was, he replied that men were 'too ashamed to ask for help
 if they had been battered'. Women who are in violent relationships with men are
 only too aware that their lives are in danger and shame tends not to stand in
 the way of them seeking sanctuary when it escalates to a dangerous stage.
 Pizzey's rantings that feminists have no grounds to assert that domestic
 violence is a problem primarily for women are backed up by research from two
 male academics, both of whom reviewed 'all feminist research' on violence and
 found it to be 'biased, uncriticised and wrong'. We are not let into the secret
 of how they reached this conclusion. Fay Weldon and Melanie Philips, too, agree
 with Pizzey that feminists have created a climate of man-hating. But most
 worrying is the interview with a Relate counsellor and a social worker in Wales
 who calls for men to 'fight back and go out and say radical feminism is wrong'.
 Both men agree with Pizzey that 'violent relationships are passionate and
 intense,' and conclude that women want to stay with violent men or they would
 never return to the relationships time and time again.  Children also want to
 stay with abusive fathers so we should all help them 'work out their problems
 The assumptions made here are that every time a woman leaves a refuge and
 returns to a violent relationship it is because she is missing the abuser. Often
 she returns because she finds it hard to cope away from the security of her
 home, or because she knows that he will never leave her alone if she stays away.
 Similarly for children: if they are being abused or are witnessing domestic
 violence, they do not want the responsibility of making their father leave, but
 for the violence to stop.
 The Relate counsellor and the social worker erroneously conclude that
 although 'violence is wrong' it is committed by women, children, and men.
 It is high time this attempt to de-genderise domestic violence is
 challenged. Feminists have put violence against women and children on the
 national agenda and we have come a long way since the days when we were
 dismissed as bra -burning man-haters. Pizzey will continue to row her own boat
 on this issue, but as for the other creatures crawling out of the woodwork to
 jump on this anti-feminist and extremely dangerous bandwagon, we will ignore
 them at our peril.
 Counterblast is on BBC2, 7.30pm, March 30.

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                              Belfast News Letter
                          January 20, 1999, Wednesday
LENGTH: 2026 words
BYLINE: Ian Starrett
 CORONATION Street's smoothie turned nasty Greg Kelly lashes out at Sall y
 Webster as their affair turns sour and once again - this time via a popular t
 elevision soap opera - the impression is given that domestic violence is a gend
 er issue. The perception is that it is always women who suffer. IAN STARRETT has
 discovered that this pe rception is far from accurate and that, throughout
 Northern Ireland and the Rep ublic, men are suffering from vicious female wrath.
  MEN HAVE been rarely associated with domestic violence except when portrayed
 as the perpetrators.
 Yet it has emerged that behind the closed front doors of thousands of
 ordinary homes across Ulster and the Republic men are suffering from the
 hate-filled fists of the husband batterers.
 Meath-born nurse Mary Cleary would notice the injuries as she performed her
 duties at Our Lady's Hospital in Navan.
 They didn't, of course, say that they had been beaten, slashed or kicked by
 their spouses. Feeble excuses about slipping in the porch, tiles falling on
 them, cutting their hand with a can opener, walking into lamposts were offered.
 Mary wasn't fooled. She knew their injuries had been rendered by wives or
 female partners.
 "As a nurse I came across an 80-year-old man who was blind. He had a wound
 on his arm, given to him by his wife, that needed 17 stitches. She laughed at
 the protection order he got against her and the beatings increased after it,"
 she said.
 Just over a year ago Mary set up AMEN, a helpline and support group for men
 in violent relationships to give them legal and practical advice which may allow
 them to make positive decisions about their relationsips.
 Working from the kitchen of her Navan home, her telephone hasn't cooled
 since. "I get calls from all over Northern Ireland. There are many men up there
 who need our help. One Derry man wrote to me after he picked up one of our
 leaflets in Donegal saying that he had reached a low point in his life. We have
 had many calls for help like that from people in Derry, Belfast, from all over
 the north."
 In the past year AMEN has heard from more than 3,000 men and supportive
 members of their families, like sympathetic mothers and sisters. Callers range
 in age from 18 to elderly pensioners, the oldest Mary helped was 88. They
 include doctors, dentists, fa rmers, fitters, managers, police, soldiers and the
 "The magnitude of the response has stretched the voluntary helpline to its
 capacity and is evidence that this taboo subject of male victims requires a
 structured and properly funded mainstream response," says Mary, who set the
 helpline up in her ownhome at her own expense.
 "Images of wimp, big boys don't cry and take it on the chin like a man,
 serve to keep this taboo subject under wraps. Many of the men who contact us
 talk about their being deeply depressed and feeling suicidal. Some of them have
 made attempts on their li ves and have been hospitalised. Many are on sleeping
 pills and anti -depressants. One man said to me - 'It was not so much that I
 wanted to die but that I could see no reason to live.'
 "Often it is only when violence on men by their female partners is near
 fatal or fatal that the authorities finally pay attention. Men very often remain
 in these abusive relationships for the sake and protection of their children."
 Mary has a string of horrific stories to tell.
 One member of the Garda, who she knows, was so savagely beaten by his wife
 that in desperation he rang a women's refuge in his area pleading for help. The
 policeman said they just laughed at him and that it took him well over two years
 to get the courgag e to tell his doctor that his wife was hitting him. He'd
 initially said that they were football injuries but in fact his wife, he
 claimed, had battered him with her bare fists, the handle of a vacuum and a
 poker as well as attacking him with a carving kn ife.
 Mary, a mother of three, is anxious to point out that she in no way wants to
 minimise violence against females. She tells you that it is her belief that it
 is a social issue affecting men, women and children.
 "A real solution to the problem cannot be found while it is treated solely
 as a women's issue," she said yesterday.
 The telephone rings and on the line is a businessman who tells her that
 because he has been given a black eye yet again by his wife he has had to cancel
 business appointments for the next few days in both Northern Ireland and the
 Mary, who has volunteer helpers but who takes the bulk of the calls herself,
 is hoping to travel throughout Northern Ireland and Eire over the next year to
 highlight the problem of battered menfolk. Also two Department of Crimenology
 experts at Queens Un iversity, Belfast, are to carry out 100 in-depth case
 studies in the province.
 The AMEN Helpline for men who feel that they are suffering silently and
 alone in abusive relationships is (from Northern Ireland) 00353 4623718.
 A father battered and rejected
 Case history
 TOM was once the happiest of men.
 Along with his wife and children he could often be seen around Londonderry
 shopping, casually strolling in the park, going to Sunday worship together,
 doing the sort of things that families normally do.
 Yesterday Tom - not his real name - was living alone in a flat on the fringe
 of the city centre because his estranged wife has banished him from the home he
 lovingly provided for for years.
 He didn't see his children at Christmas, for months even before that. What's
 more he has been a victim of domestic violence.
 "She wasn't slow in lashing out at me. She started physically attacking me a
 year ago and eventually I had to leave the house. She has now got an exclusion
 order to keep me away from the house yet she was the one who was violent. Right
 now I don't know w hether I'm coming or going."
 "She has now moved her lover in. He's certainly not there to do the
 hoovering or the washing up. As I and many men see it getting exclusion orders
 is just a way of providing somewhere for these women to have their affairs in
 the comfort of a home that an other man has worked to build up."
 "Women like my wife are throwing their husbands out onto the street and then
 committing adultery with the next person they fancy. The man is not protected in
 this at all - even when it is the woman who is violent and cruel hearted."
 "She has now taken out a personal protection order against me and now I
 can't even say 'Hello' to my children."
 Tom added: "I have carried out my own survey in Derry regarding violence
 against men and the stories I've heard are heartbreaking. I'm not anti-women,
 don't get me wrong, but I believe that equality and justice is deserved.
 Culturally there has been a d enial of the male victim and the invisible
 barriers such as rejection, ridicule and disbelief. The theory has been to
 isolate the man and make it difficult for him to speak out.
 "Domestic violence is a social issue that affects men, women and children
 and addressing only part of the picture will continue to cause damage and create
 divisions among families."
 The Londonderry father said that some solicitors had reservations about
 representing men in domestic violence cases. "Women appear to be more believed
 than men. They just turn on the crocodile tears and even though they may be
 violent adulterers they ar e believed and the man is thrown out onto the street.
 In Derry, women have access to a network of advice centres and shelters. Men on
 the other hand have nowhere to turn. In most cases, men find themselves on the
 street with only their family to turn to.  "
 Tom said that in most cases women get legal aid when they take domestic
 cases to courts and that social services cash ensures that they don't even need
 a male breadwinner around the home any longer.
 Mary Cleary's AMEN organisation has been a tremendous source of comfort to
 him and he urges other men to make use of it.
 ... and the stars who saw stars!
 WHEN legendary Hollywood toughie Humphrey Bogart uttered the immortal words
 "Here's looking at you kid" he just might have been keeping a watchful eye out
 for a swinging female right hook.
 And when John Wayne rode off into the Colorado sunset it might just have
 been to escape from the fury of a violent wifey.
 For Bogey and Wayne, who could never in a million years have been described
 as wimps, in their private lives it has been recorded were once secret victims
 of female anger.
 Dr Malcolm George, a senior lecturer at London University, said that Bogart,
 and even former US President Abraham Lincoln were abused by their wives.
 Dr George said that Wild West movie legend John Wayne had been abused by his
 second wife Conchita who continued to make his life a misery after he divorced
 Abraham Lincoln's wife Mary regularly beat him and once "hit him across the
 face with a block of wood".
 Ms Erin Pizzey, who founded the first refuge for women and child victims of
 domestic violence in the United Kingdom back in 1971, admitted to a recent
 conference at University College, Dublin, that of the first 100 women who came
 to that first refuge, 62 were found to be just as violent as the men they had
 Letters from victims
 MARY Cleary has received scores of heart rending letters from battered men.
 Here are several excerpts from men whose identities cannot be revealed:
 Dear Mary,
 I am myself a victim of female violence, eg forced to get out of bed late at
 night and have a cold bath despite having a morning bath.
 Wife assuming a 'Sumo-stance' and advancing on me flicking a meat cleaver
 from hand to hand finishing up with a full blooded swipe across my throat...
 inches away... this was her favourite trick.
 Dear Mary,
 Deserted three years ago I suffered many physical attacks during my marriage
 to a very beautiful woman.
 As a child my mother hit me a lot and I was blamed for everything although
 To hit my mother would be 'a mortal sin' so I grew up 'programmed' into
 never using physical or mental 'terror' on any woman.
 My wife of 7 years could never understand why I never retaliated physically
 to her 'rib digs' exerted through her knuckles sufficiently hard to drive me
 back into walls as she bullied me.
 She left me for another man in '95 and constantly criticised me sexually and
 compared me directly to this other man with whom she had a prior relationship.
 It's very demeaning for a man to be criticised in this way and I was
 constantly referred to as 'the wimp' in front of friends.
 In the past three years, society and its attitude have shocked me insofar as
 no sympathy is expended towards male victims of female violence, either physical
 or mental. The law has shocked me to the extent of 'one rule for the men,
 another for the women.  '.
 Allow me to explain or refer to specific occurrences since I was deserted.
 My former wife's father trains dogs, especially hybrid pitbulls and other
 cross breds for the guard dog market. As my ex-wife grew up surrounded by these
 animals she became a good handler of such animals and always stayed in touch
 with her father's trend s, techniques and control words.
 Indeed she put one such hybrid 'to work' as she ransacked our home for six
 months after she left. One day she arrived smelling of alcohol with a cross
 between a Doberman and Rottweiller.
 Some commands were uttered at the door and I quickly realised I was 'held'
 on command. It lasted for about 20 minutes as the house was again ransacked. It
 happened about four times in the ensuing months for lesser periods and my
 friends felt that the tac tics were not much different from a person raiding a
 house with a shotgun.
 A Londonderry man wrote - Dear Mary,
 I write to you after picking up one of your leaflets at a chapel in Donegal.
 I have been subject to domestic violence by my wife for a number of years and
 have recently paid the price of exclusion from my home.
 At this moment I am at a very low point in my life and I would be very
 grateful for any other information which may help me.
GRAPHIC: BRUTALITY: husband battering is a taboo subject, something that few of
 its victims admit to. Staged photograph
LOAD-DATE: January 20, 1999
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                 Copyright 1998 The Scotsman Publications Ltd.
                                  The Scotsman
                          December 31, 1998, Thursday
LENGTH: 833 words
BYLINE: Kevin Myers
 THE pioneer of refuges for battered women, Erin Pizzey, declared recently at
 a conference in Dublin that there had been a feminist-inspired conspiracy to
 conceal the truth about domestic violence. She said 62 per cent of the women in
 her first refuge had admitted being violent to their male partners.
 "Unfortunately," she went on, "at this time (1971) the feminist movement ...
 was able to hijack the domestic violence movement and promptly set about
 disseminating dubious research material and disinformation."
 Thank you, Erin. Without you, I, being the merest male, know full well that
 I would never have had the nerve to say a word on this subject, even although I
 have opinions on it and a certain amount of knowledge -but fortunately, no
 For not merely has feminism achieved a virtual ideological monopoly in the
 media, but it has created a climate in which the only commentators permitted to
 criticise its canons - without being torn limb from limb by foaming sisters in
 dungarees - are women. If Camille Paglia were a man, she would be dogfood.
 Classically, feminism detests dissent. Managerial censorship - actually
 often supervised by craven, guilt-tripping men, the quislings of this entire
 debate - has, in parti-cular, dammed much vital truth at source.
 When, in the early 1970s, Erin Pizzey tried to publicise the reality of male
 victimhood from physical violence within the home, she was interviewed only by
 female journalists who, she now complains, "were largely radical feminists".
 Recent international research, she points out, has indicated that domestic
 violence between men and women was about equal. "However," Erin Pizzey adds,
 "none of these findings made much of an impact in the media and they were
 brushed aside by the feminist movement who insisted that injuries caused by
 women were in self-defence."
 A process of tunnel-visioned censorship at source still detects only the
 bruised icons of feminist-victim-ology. A recent British Medical Association
 investigation into domestic violence involving 571 women and 429 men reported
 that one third of the women alleged violence, and one quarter alleged coercive
 sex by male partners. But, then, an investigation into the investigation itself
 revealed that the men surveyed had only been asked whether or not they had
 physically or sexually abused women, but not whether or not they had been
 In other words, when did you stop beating your wife, you bastard?
 And heaven help the man who questions feminist-victimology. Neil Lydon's
 critique of feminism a few years ago was given solely to femi-nists to savage,
 and savage it they predictably did, in a peculiarly unpleasant and almost
 standard femi-nist way, reducing their opponent to a stereotype of the
 reactionary male chauvinist pig stereotype, and then going on to jeer at their
 own odious creation.
 (So! Neil Lydon wants us to be good girls, back to the kitchen sink, minding
 the kids, sacrificing our careers and on our backs on demand! Well, I've got
 news for the creep ...)
 Men are particularly forbidden to approach the tabernacles of femi-nism.
 Even an observation, be it so delicately uttered, that horrible though it is,
 rape is surely better than death, is proof that one sees rape as a useful way of
 keeping women in their place.
 And what man these days has not been told by feminists that men might
 possess opinions on rape, abortion and single motherhood, but they may not
 express them?
 If the feminist censorship in the media were acknowledged, it would not be
 so insidious; but it is not.
 Instead, there is the big lie of openness and truth, most especially in
 television, where feminist-agenda-driven double standards are almost universal,
 although they are never declared.
 A recent BBC programme about changes to the body during adol-escence dwelt
 in much photographic detail on changes in the male geni-tals. No illustrations
 were shown of comparable female changes. Why? Because feminists have long since
 decided that intimate illustrations of that part of the female body "are
 offensive to women".
 There is, of course, no male equivalent to that term; nor any equivalent to
 the new, odious school of twittering femi-journalism, in which a young woman
 very conspicuously exploits her good looks, yet is ready at the drop of an eye
 -lining pencil to detect sexism in any male response which is "inappropriate" -
 a marvellous feminist word which means precisely what you want it to mean.
 Yet I don't blame the feminists for this. I blame men, whose moral supinity
 before this political mono-poly merits all the bullying it has received. It is
 men who have cravenly and witlessly permitted and even assisted in the creation
 of sexual stereotypes of suffering and oppression, in which the male sex is
 always guilty, and now we must pay the price.
 Thank God there are women like Erin Pizzey and Camille Paglia who not merely
 can speak their minds; they can speak ours too.
LOAD-DATE: December 31, 1998
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                   Copyright 1998 Associated Newspapers Ltd.
                          DAILY MAIL (London) (London)
                                December 5, 1998
LENGTH: 2506 words
BYLINE: Lynda Lee-Potter
 RACHEL SWINGLE-HURST has the leggy curvaceous body of a beauty queen and a
 strong vibrant face. She's also a shrewd businesswoman who used to run her
 successful pub. She's totally in love with Geoffrey Boycott and convinced of his
 They met 24 years ago when she was 22 and she's the mother of his
 ten-year-old daughter Emma. She wears on her wedding finger the gold nugget ring
 he gave her and a solid gold heart round her neck.
 She was by his side in the French court when he was convicted of beating up
 Margaret Moore. In the past two years she's been like a protective tiger in his
 life but now she is close to despair.
 'I feel ashamed at times to be female. This political correctness is crazy.
 It's so easy for a woman to destroy any man. I could get into a lift with a chap
 and say he put his hand under my skirt. I wouldn't be named, but the police
 would have to act. The man would be suspended from his job and the case would
 take years to come to court.
 'Now I don't know if Margaret Moore is mad or bad. I think she's either
 evilly bad or mentally mad and I'm swinging more to the fact that she is ill.
 'I hope God can forgive her because I'm not sure I ever will.
 She's dictated our lives for two years. Geoffrey is a proud, honourable man
 and this is destroying him. He's financially secure. He doesn't have to work
 again, but he's one of the best commentators in the world.
 'Cricket has been his life and he wants to work. He's dispensable now but if
 he was still needed to open the batting for his country against the Aussies he'd
 be out there. He wouldn't have been dumped.
 'Then everyone would say: "Boycott has never been a violent man.
 Margaret Moore is a bankrupt, a proven liar who has totally been discredited
 so let's give him the benefit of the doubt." ' Cricketer David Bairstow was
 their close friend but he committed suicide a year ago during a despairing time
 in his life. 'Now I know how David felt,' Geoffrey has said to Rachel.
 'Is that what people want?' she cries. 'Another famous cricketer to kill
 himself? Friends say: "He's got you and he's got Emma." He has and he loves us,
 but it's not enough, which doesn't make him a bad man.' Rachel is so angry about
 the damage being done to their lives that she sometimes feels violent herself.
 'I considered going up to Margaret Moore in court, slapping her and saying:
 "Geoffrey never hit you but somebody ought to."
 'I don't swear, but I don't really know how to say it any other way than
 she's f***** up my life. Erin Pizzey, who supports battered women, went on
 television and said: "Women are not always the victims. In this instance I
 believe Mr Boycott is the victim, that Margaret Moore is the violent person and
 that she's had a violent background." ' There is no doubt that Ms Moore pursued
 Geoffrey and that he succumbed to her sexy charms. She was willing, available
 and money seemed no object. 'She paid for herself, first class,' says Rachel,
 'to join him around the world for sex.
 OK, so it doesn't sound very nice but I don't know many men who are going to
 turn that down.
 'He found her attractive then.
 Now she's changed a lot. Everything about this woman is false, even the hair
 is extensions. It's stuck on, her hair is shorter than mine. I could see in
 court at the hearing she had a false ponytail and you could see underneath to
 the real length. And that sums her up really.
 'She says he asked her to marry him, but he's never asked any woman to marry
 him. She needed an escape route because she was in desperate financial
 difficulties.' It's on record that Ms Moore said she would not proceed with the
 court case if Geoffrey paid her $1 million. The official receivers have now
 finished their investigations into her affairs. There are allegations of
 perjury, deliberate defrauding of creditors, trading while knowingly insolvent
 and acting as a shadow director. She could end up going to prison.
 GEOFFREY Boycott was born in the small Yorkshire mining village of
 Fitzwilliam. He once took me to the street where he spent his childhood and the
 tiny houses were mean and dank.
 His father was horrifically injured in a mining accident but never got
 proper compensation. He lived on for a few more years as a shadow of his former
 self. Geoffrey's mother battled on without complaint to sustain her husband and
 rear her family.
 Her famous son lived at home until she died when he was in his early 30s.
 He then began to live with Anne Wyatt, who is 14 years his senior. Now she
 is 72 and their sexual passion is in the past but he remains utterly loyal and
 protective to her. He's bought her a house overlooking the sea at Sandbanks in
 Nuisance calls to Mrs Wyatt were traced to Ms Moore's mobile.
 Meanwhile Geoffrey remains in Yorkshire and he and Rachel live between her
 rented cottage near York and his farmhouse.
 In fact, Ms Moore reunited them because they were in contact but no longer
 lovers when she made her accusations of violence. Rachel sprang to his defence.
 If he did ever ask her to marry him she admits she would say: 'Yes,' without
 'We still have the chemistry between us after 24 years, probably because
 we've not been together 12 hours a day. People say that he's never married
 therefore he's frightened of commitment. If anything, he has been more committed
 to Anne and me than most married men to their wives.' When Rachel found she was
 pregnant with Emma she and Geoffrey were upset because they knew that their
 relationship would change. Rachel had always been free to fly to meet him around
 the world and they'd had wonderful times together. She is not maternal and had
 never felt broody. She conceived when she was on the Pill and didn't realise she
 was pregnant for four months.
 WHEN I told Geoffrey,' she says, 'he never once asked: "Is it mine?" A few
 people apparently accused me of pulling the three-card trick and deliberately
 getting pregnant to try and make him marry me. It was the absolute opposite.
 'I just knew that it would change everything. I wouldn't be able to go off
 abroad, tripping all round the world. I'm not a natural mother. Now I've got her
 I love her very much but I'd quite happily have gone through life not having had
 a child.
 'Geoffrey would just ring up and say: "There's an airline ticket, do you
 want to come?" I'd pack the bags and be off. It's marvellous going out to lovely
 hotels and lying in the sun.' After Emma was born Geoffrey accepted his
 responsibilities as a father. However, feeling that their relationship had no
 finite future because of Anne Wyatt, Rachel went to live abroad with her
 parents. She was still in love with Geoffrey and remained celibate.
 'It's quite hard for him to tell me he loves me,' she says, 'but he does,
 just occasionally. Emma once said: "What are you to Daddy?" I said: "I'm his
 girlfriend." She said: "You're too old to be a girlfriend, how about fiancee?" I
 said: "No darling, I'm not his fiancee because that's someone who is engaged to
 be married.'' 'Then she wanted to know why we can't get married. I said:
 "Because the man has to ask the lady, the lady can't ask the man."
 Now sometimes she says: "I think I'll go and live with my father and you can
 come, too, Mummy." ' Geoffrey once told Rachel that she was the most ordinary
 person he'd ever met and she knew it was a compliment. He meant he felt at ease
 and at home with her.
 'Sex takes up only part of a relationship,' she says. 'We used to have
 comfortable silences but those times have unfortunately gone. It's as if we
 always have to be discussing this awful woman and what we're going to do.
 'I personally wish he had hit her. I actually think there is an occasion for
 hitting a woman, if she's hysterical and totally out of control.' The famous
 scenario of the alleged beating took place in the Hotel du Cap in the South of
 France. They were staying there for a few days and Margaret Moore was
 desperately looking for a way out of her financial crisis. One day when she had
 been drinking non-stop she went out on the hotel window ledge and threatened to
 commit suicide.
 'Geoffrey didn't react,' says Rachel, 'so she came back into the room and
 started hitting him. He still didn't react so she started throwing his things
 out of the window. Then she went to get his suit out of the wardrobe. He tried
 to stop her throwing the suit out of the window, they struggled and they both
 'I know categorically that's true because I saw the bruise on his left elbow
 when he got back from by
 France on the Friday night.
 We've also seen the bar bill for that day from the hotel. It was colossal
 and Geoffrey doesn't drink. This woman is an alcoholic.' Rachel didn't know then
 about the existence of Margaret Moore but at the time she and Geoffrey were not
 sleeping together. 'I was not a scorned lover,' she says, 'Geoffrey was free to
 see who he wanted.' They'd met in 1974 in her local pub, which was holding a
 benefit night for him. 'I remember just looking into his eyes and thinking: "Oh,
 he's nice," which means: "I could go to bed with him." ' Rachel was 22 and had
 just left her husband who had been a childhood sweetheart.
 Geoffrey took her back to her parents' house and when he returned to the pub
 where he was due to stay it was locked.
 He had to drive 50 miles home through the night. The following day the pub
 landlady said tartly to Rachel: 'Well, Geoffrey certainly Boycotted you.' He
 rang her a few days later and their tender affair began.
 She never hoped for marriage because she always knew Anne Wyatt was in the
 background. 'He isn't a chauvinist,' she says. 'He's all for equality. He has no
 problem with women joining the Marylebone Cricket Club or equal pay for the same
 jobs. He has no problems with women running companies.
 'The most important people in his life have been women and he has tremendous
 respect for us. He's not a man's man, going down the pub and saying: "You stay
 at home, woman, in your place."
 BUT in a relationship he wants to be the man and he likes his woman to be
 feminine. He's a boobs and bottom chap and he makes you feel terrific. He's got
 a lovely body, which has made me look after mine.
 'Actually I'm far more practical than him. I change the fuses, decorate and
 do the tiling. I was so stressed waiting for the court case I decorated my
 sister's house right through. Geoffrey's totally hopeless but when we're
 together he's the man and that's what I want. It's old-fashioned values not
 chauvinism.' There have been lots of times over the years when Rachel has wanted
 to stand up and defend
 Geoffrey. She remained quiet, possibly for the sake of Anne Wyatt's pride,
 but Margaret Moore's accusation was the final straw. Rachel determined she was
 going to defend her chap in public.
 'He genuinely didn't want me to. He said: "You don't know what you're
 getting yourself into." I said: "I know I don't, but sometimes you've got to
 stand up and be counted. This is one of my times and I'm not doing it just for
 you. I'm doing it as much for Emma."
 'If I hadn't had Emma I might have stayed in the background.
 It would have been easier and less controversial both for the relationship
 and my life. I'd got Emma into a new school where nobody knew who she was.'
 Luckily Emma is as iron willed and confident as her father. Officially she
 has Rachel's surname, but now calls herself Emma Swingle-hurst Boycott.
 'Geoffrey wants only to protect her but she's proud of her daddy. People
 either like him or hate him. You don't find many who haven't got an opinion
 either way. So sometimes people bristle at the name and he doesn't want that for
 'Because of the current conviction, albeit in a foreign court, he doesn't
 want her to be judged by the so-called sins of her father.
 'But she is so strong. She is absolutely his mirror image.
 After the verdict was given I rang her as soon as we got to London from
 King's Cross. I said: "We haven't won today but we had difficulty with the
 translation. The French didn't quite understand everything that we were trying
 to say."
 'She was staying with a friend who said: "Emma, when you're an adult you'll
 realise, even in this country in the courts, sometimes the truth doesn't come
 out. Daddy's just been unlucky." Emma said: "He's not unlucky.
 He's got me."
 'When I told Geoffrey tears came into eyes. He calls her Half Pint and he
 adores her. I think his feelings for her have surprised him. He doesn't openly
 weep but he does what we call clouding up. He's done that ever since he finished
 playing cricket. When he's talking about something very special in his career,
 he wells up, because he misses playing so much.' Geoffrey is in turmoil about
 the future. He wants to fight on though common sense tells him that another
 trial in France might well turn into another farce.
 'If we'd been able to give all our evidence,' says Rachel, 'and we felt we'd
 had a fair shot maybe we could have accepted it better. But we were herded in a
 room from two in the afternoon till one in the morning.
 We couldn't have anything to eat or drink.
 'Luckily, I'd had the foresight to take some bottled water and chocolate.
 If we wanted to go the toilet we had to be taken by an armed escort.
 'Margaret Moore said Geoffrey punched her 20 times in the face. If he'd done
 that her face would have been pulped.
 Did that face look like a face that had been beaten more than 20 times?
 'You do not have equal bruising under the eyes from being beaten. But you do
 if you've fallen and struck your forehead. The blood drains down - it's called
 ALL Geoffrey wants now is to be allowed to be a cricket commentator. He's
 not trying to run the country. He's not telling us how we should bring up our
 He just wants to do his job.
 'But this very private, proud man has had his whole washing aired in public.
 I'm not going to say dirty washing because it isn't dirty. I can only imagine
 what it's been like for him these past few weeks.
 'He's fought so hard to get the truth across and he's been crucified. Do
 they want him to just lie down and die? It's terrible to see somebody you love
 wrongly accused of something and then found guilty. But you read similar things
 all the time in the newspapers.
 'A school teacher accused by some 14-year-old pupil of touching them up gets
 automatically suspended. The case takes two years to come to court. In the
 meantime his marriage collapses, his kids won't talk to him and he loses his
 'He can't pay his mortgage so he loses his house. Basically his life is
 ruined and then two years later the accusation is proved to be unfounded.
 Well, it's too late isn't it?' Rachel now desperately wants to be able to
 get on with living. Geoffrey still hasn't made up his mind whether or not to
 appeal but if he does she'll be there with her fists up ready to fight on his
 She weeps not for herself but for him.

LOAD-DATE: December 7, 1998
                              118 of 278 DOCUMENTS
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                             The Guardian (London)
                               November 11, 1998
SECTION: The Guardian Features Page; Pg. 19
LENGTH: 99 words
HEADLINE: Letter: Are women getting the role models they really want?
 I WAS hoping for a better understanding of the roots of domestic violence
 from Baroness Jay.  In a family where one or both parents are violent, boys and
 girls learn violent behaviour as a destructive method of dealing with tension.
 Boys tend to "explode" and harm other people and girls "implode" and harm
 themselves and their children. Women are perpetrators in 60 per cent of child
 abuse cases. The Women's Unit costs over a million pounds a year to run. Why are
 the taxpayers paying for outdated feminist rhetoric?
 Erin Pizzey.
 (Founder of the refuge
 movement), London.

LOAD-DATE: November 12, 1998
                              122 of 278 DOCUMENTS
                   Copyright 1998 Guardian Newspapers Limited
                             The Guardian (London)
                                 July 25, 1998
SECTION: The Guardian Features Page; Pg. 22
LENGTH: 53 words
HEADLINE: Godparents in a secular world
 LABOUR'S plans (Labour's plan to save the family, July 24) will delight all
 of us who believe that traditional family life is the cornerstone of any
 civilisation.  May I suggest that we scrap the selfish, expensive and outdated
 Women's Unit and replace it with a family unit?
 Erin Pizzey.

LOAD-DATE: July 27, 1998
                              123 of 278 DOCUMENTS
                   Copyright 1998 Guardian Newspapers Limited
                                  The Observer
                                 July 19, 1998
SECTION: The Observer News Page; Pg. 30
LENGTH: 59 words
HEADLINE: Letter: Violence survey
 Erin Pizzey attributed to the British Medical Association a survey on
 domestic violence carried out in Islington, north London (Comment, 5 July). In
 fact, it was conducted by the Centre for Criminology at Middlesex University and
 reported in the BMA's recent literature review.
 Dr Jayne Mooney
 Centre for Criminology
 Middlesex University

LOAD-DATE: July 20, 1998
                              124 of 278 DOCUMENTS
                   Copyright 1998 Guardian Newspapers Limited
                                  The Observer
                                 July 12, 1998
SECTION: The Observer News Page; Pg. 30
LENGTH: 154 words
HEADLINE: Letter: Feminist prejudice
 Erin Pizzey's article on domestic violence (Comment, last week) is a major
 challenge to all agencies who work with violent families.
 Children are damaged by feminist prejudice, which forces men out of
 families, and away from their children.  Forcing men away does not address the
 family and relationship dynamics in which domestic violence is rooted. So
 violence continues in either reconciled or reconstituted families into which the
 partners go.
 Only a strategy of therapeutic intervention, in which men and women accept
 responsibility for their behaviour and actively work to change the dynamics,
 which cause violence in their relationship, can attempt to stop the abuse.
 This is not excusing the 'perpetrator' or 'blaming the victim'. It's stating
 that action against domestic violence is too important to be based on prejudice.
 Adrian Wilson Team Manager Cardiff County Social Services Department

LOAD-DATE: July 14, 1998
                              125 of 278 DOCUMENTS
                    Copyright 1998 Newspaper Publishing PLC
                            The Independent (London)
                              July 5, 1998, Sunday
LENGTH: 1666 words
HEADLINE: Old feminists never die; They just start having face-lifts, defending
 poor, crushed menand launching attacks on other members of their own sex. Oh,
 and changingtheir mind about more or less everything their reputation rests on.
 Alexandra Traeger lines up Fay Weldon's inconsistent sisters
BYLINE: Alexandra Traeger
 GROWING OLD gracefully is not, it seems, a very feminist notion.  The very
 idea of meekly retiring to grow roses is anathema. Yes, there may be a lovely
 clutch of pretty, clever, media-friendly younger feminists poised and only too
 keen to seize the feminist baton and carry it into the new millennium. But the
 grandmothers of the movement just won't lie down. In fact these older sisters,
 now in their fifties, sixties and even seventies, frequently have more to say
 for themselves than the younger generation, who have uniformly adopted a more
 softly-softly, gentle and tolerant stance. While younger feminists are bending
 over backwards to lay to rest the old image of the "loony feminist", the old
 guard continue to be as controversial as ever, having facelifts, attacking
 journalists and moaning that men are having a jolly hard time (and all thanks to
 those rotten feminists).
 Rather like the breed of hoary old rightwingers who began political life as
 excitable Trots (Paul Johnson, Peter Hitchens, Kingsley Amis, Christopher Booker
 spring to mind), they often seem to glory in their political quarantine and
 refuse to see the shift in their position as anything other than progressive.
 This week's feminist headline-hitter, Fay Weldon, rounded upon from all sides
 for apparently down-playing the trauma of rape, later managed simultaneously to
 climb down and to defend her original remarks, all in a blaze of publicity.  Far
 from being out of touch, she insists, she is in fact "several years ahead of her
 time" and "residing in the next phase of feminism". But don't we love it? Where,
 after all, are the column inches in sticking to your guns? Anti-pornography
 campaigner Andrea Dworkin is nowadays dismissed as a man-hating loony, Kate
 Millet, author of Sexual Politics, is now living in poverty. Both assiduously
 sisterly and entirely consistent, and beside their arm-waving, strop-throwing,
 improbably youthful-looking sisters, just a little, well, dull.
 Popular writer of novels with a strong feminist bent (selfish, treacherous,
 weedy male characters, down-trodden but feisty females). Now backpedalling over
 that interview: "My great error has been the use of the word 'downgraded' which
 I can now see would have been better expressed as 'temporally re- defined while
 the judiciary work out, as they are doing, a new crime called "sexual assault"
 which is gender-free (these days men rape other men as well as women) and brings
 Britain more in line with the rest of Europe'".  Erm, yes. But not entirely
 contrite; is no fan of the "victim culture" that surrounds rape cases.
 Finest hour: Pretty well any of her novels, though critics have noted that
 there is a certain same-ness to her work. Still, the same could be said of Jane
 Lowest point: Does like to remind us how sorry she feels for men and how
 being female is now a positive breeze: "It's all right being a woman these days,
 but it must be terrible being a man. They're quite right to be frightened and
 Author of the feminist classic, The Female Eunuch, she started out as a
 lecturer in English at Warwick University. Posed semi-naked for Oz magazine in
 the name of liberation (and astride a motorbike for Snowdon for her 50th
 birthday). Fond of male company, though she observed notably: "It always amazes
 me that women don't understand how much men hate them".  Not, however, noted for
 her sisterliness (see Lowest Point). Now looking triumphantly witchy and writing
 about how positive the menopause is, her maverick intellect and utter refusal to
 toe the line, feminist or otherwise, spice up late-night discussion shows no
 end. Now her forthcoming volume suggests that the sexual revolution has gone too
 far and women have lost the ability to say "no".
 Finest moment: 1971's The Female Eunuch, in which she dissected women and
 found them sexually, socially and psychically castrated.
 Lowest point: A column for the Guardian contained such blisteringly
 unsisterly attacks on another female journalist that the paper was forced to
 spike it. Greer sneered at Suzanne Moore's "f***-me shoes", "three fat inches of
 cleavage" and "bird's nest" hairdo; "so much lipstick must rot the brain," she
 snapped. Media uproar followed (the completely one-sided attack now gleefully
 dubbed a "feminist cat fight"), but Greer's reputation, such as it is, remains
 somehow undented.
 Was accused of being more of a threat to America than the Russians when she
 wrote, in the early Sixties, about what she called "the cry of the suburban
 housewife: 'I want something more than my husband and my children and my home'."
 As women deserted home baking and Tupperware parties in droves, her shocked
 critics suggested she seek psychiatric help. Now insists that men are allies,
 not enemies. The Second Stage, published in 1981, infuriated more radical
 feminists with its defence of the family. A devoted grandmother, she has since
 turned to old people's rights in a new 600- page volume, The Fountain of Age.
 Critics have been dismayed by her verbose calls for power for the elderly;
 probably an even more difficult mountain to climb than power for women.
 Finest moment: publication in 1963 of The Feminine Mystique, a clarion- call
 to early feminists which sparked the movement in the US. Founder of the National
 Organisation for Women in 1966.
 Lowest point: Almost total volte face in The Second Stage, 1981. Feminists
 had been too "confrontational" and went on about rape and abortion too much. It
 is in "the Family", she asserted, that women will find "the base of their
 identity and human control". "I do not think women's rights are the most urgent
 business for American women," she declared, thus, in the words of Backlash
 author Susan Faludi, "stomping on a movement that she did so much to create and
 Champion of battered wives and once a household name for beginning the
 concept of refuges for women who were victims of violence. She disagreed with
 radical Seventies feminists, however, and left the country after a series of
 bitter quarrels. Subsequently found a young husband and embarked on a moderately
 successful career as a novelist. Now divorced, she is deeply in debt and
 practically destitute.
 Finest moment: Setting up the first Women's Refuge in Chiswick, west London,
 in the early Seventies, then founding the National Women's Aid Federation, which
 led to 200 hostels in Britain and many more abroad.  Awarded the Italian Peace
 Prize for her efforts.
 Lowest point: her book, Prone To Violence, in 1981, suggested that some
 women collude with domestic violence; this led to death threats and hate mail.
 Her publisher dropped her, and she was banned from womens' refuges.  She has
 also said that feminism is "a giant cancer that has dug its crab's legs into
 every area of society. They have almost succeeded in destroying the family in
 this country. That was their plan and they have nearly succeeded."
 Newspaper columnist and campaigning journalist, in her early days, went
 undercover as a Playboy bunny to expose the Hugh Hefner empire.  Continued
 Remains a glamour-puss (when complimented by a reporter who told her she
 didn't look 40, she famously replied: "This is what 40 looks like.  We've been
 lying so long who would know?") Witty, popular style keeps her at the forefront.
 "If men could menstruate, they would brag about how often and how much" is one
 of hers. "A woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle" is also
 attributed to her.
 Finest moment: Founded Ms magazine in 1972; it was instrumental in bringing
 feminism into the American mainstream.
 Lowest point: Provoked a furious row among American feminists by defending
 the shenanigans of Bill Clinton in an article for the New York Times.  He "took
 No for an answer", she wrote of the president's conduct towards Paula Jones and
 Kathleen Willey; as for Monica Lewinksky, "Whatever it was, her relationship
 with President Clinton has never been called unwelcome, coerced or other than
 something she sought."
 American bisexual literary intellectual. Professor of humanities. Says of
 herself: "I, with my Mediterranean mesomorphic bullishness and frenetic Joan
 Rivers comedy routines, am an overeater and overstater, a gourmandizer of the
 grand manner." Favours feistiness rather than victim-status. Adores Madonna and
 among the first to identify the iconic status of the late Princess of Wales,
 another of her idols. Absolutely top at feuding and storming out of things. Has
 so far crossed swords with Julie Burchill and Susan Sontag, and criticised
 Gloria Steinem, Naomi Wolf and Susan Faludi. Not one to get on the wrong side
 of: she said of her feud with Burchill: "Boy, did she make a mistake. She is
 dealing with heavy, heavy artillery. I'm like a battleship. As an Italian, I
 believe in 10 eyes for an eye and 10 teeth for a tooth." Has abandoned lectures
 when unimpressed with the crowd's intellectual capacity and most recently
 stormed out of television interview with Jonathan Dimbleby. Seen by many as
 intellectually unsound, but always ready for a media-friendly public dust-up.
 Finest moment: The publication of her book Sexual Personae in 1990, after
 which she boasted of Susan Sontag: "I've been chasing that bitch for 25 years,
 and now I've passed her!"
 Lowest point: Famously stated that if women ruled the world, we would still
 be living in grass huts. Sisterhood not a speciality: called Kate Millet "an
 imploding beanbag of poisonous self-pity". Has particular bee in her bonnet
 about Andrea Dworkin who, she feels represents, "infirmary feminism, with its
 bedlam of bellyachers, anorexics, bulimics, depressives, rape victims and incest
 survivors. Feminism has become a catch-all vegetable drawer where bunches of
 clingy sob-sisters can store their mouldy neuroses.''

LOAD-DATE: July 06, 1998
                              126 of 278 DOCUMENTS
                   Copyright 1998 Guardian Newspapers Limited
                                  The Observer
                                  July 5, 1998
SECTION: The Observer News Page; Pg. 24
LENGTH: 1295 words
HEADLINE: Men are strong, men are bullies and men are violent. Men don't cry
 when their wives beat them up this is the unreported face of domestic violence
 'One in four women abused,' shouted a page-three headline in the Guardian on
 Thursday, citing a report from the British Medical Association published the
 previous day.
 According to the newspaper, a BMA survey in Islington questioned 571 women
 and 429 men about domestic violence. It reported that one in three of the women
 said they suffered some form of domestic violence and a quarter of them said
 they had been forced to have sex against their will. There is no mention in the
 paper of any result from the questioning of the 429 men.
 In fact, the men were questioned only about whether or not they had
 physically or sexually abused women. The BMA researchers failed to ask the men
 if they considered themselves victims of domestic violence.
 This report follows on the heels of several other well aired surveys and
 television documentaries that have appeared since the beginning of this year,
 all of which seek to prove to the public that men all men are dangerous, violent
 and unpredictable in their relationships with women.
 In 1971 in west London, I opened the doors to the first refuge in the world
 for women and children fleeing from domestic violence. Almost immediately,
 people working with the women and children became aware that of the first 100
 women coming into the refuge, 62 were as violent as the partners they had left.
 Not only did they admit their violence in the mutual abuse that took place in
 their homes, but the women were abusive to their children.
 The purpose of the refuge was not to make political gain out of personal
 suffering but to seek to discover the causes of domestic violence and to create
 therapeutic programmes that would teach violence-prone parents to eradicate
 their behaviour. Unfortunately, at this time the feminist movement, hungry for
 recognition and for funding, was able to hijack the 'domestic violence movement'
 and promptly set about disseminating dubious research material and other
 Tess Gill and Anna Coote, both prominent members of the women's movement,
 stated in their book Sweet Freedom that: 'Feminists saw domestic violence as an
 expression of the power that men wielded over women, in a society where female
 dependence was built into the structure of every day life.' They concluded that:
 'Wife-battering was not the practice of a deviant few, but something which could
 emerge in the 'normal' course of marital relations.' As the 'politically
 correct' arm of the women's movement swung into action, those who dared to
 suggest that women could be guilty of any acts of violence against men were
 'blaming the victim'. All women, we were assured, were innocent victims of men's
 In the years that followed, respected research workers in the field
 published their findings. Murray Strauss, Richard Gelles and Suzanne Steinmetz
 wrote Behind Closed Doors: Violence in The American Family in 1980. They
 reported that domestic assault rates of men and women were about equal.
 Physically, men caused more damage to women but women retaliated with weapons.
 This was backed up in a report from the Leicester Royal Infirmary in England
 which also found men and women to be equally victims of violent assault,
 although men's injuries were more horrific because they were caused by weapons.
 None of these findings made much impact in the media and they were brushed
 aside by the feminist movement, which insisted that any injuries caused by women
 were probably in self-defence. After I moved to the United States, my colleagues
 and I working directly with the effects of domestic violence were unhappy about
 the mounting tide of information demonising men. In spite of the evidence now
 demonstrating that both men and women were capable of violence towards each
 other and abusive behaviour towards children, rigorous laws were being pushed
 through the US and Canadian judicial systems that discriminated against men.
 Women began to falsify information and accuse their partners of domestic
 violence as a preamble to requesting a divorce. Men were accused of molesting
 their children and many jailed without evidence. Men could be removed from their
 homes merely by an allegation from their partner that she was 'in fear'.
 No physical corroborating evidence of violent behaviour was necessary.
 Courts refused to discipline women who refused to allow men access to their
 children. Men had a one-in-10 chance of losing contact with their children
 altogether. A bitter war between men and women became a reality.
 In March this year, I heard that new legislation was being considered by the
 Government's Women's Unit and I asked if I might visit it. I received a personal
 note from Joan Ruddock, the Women's Minister, and an invitation to call on her
 in her office. Greeting me, Ms Ruddock said she knew I would be unhappy to hear
 that in the new legislation men were to be referred to as the 'perpetrators'.
 I pointed out that all informed research concluded that men and women were
 equally able to be perpetrators of domestic violence. Ms Ruddock disagreed. 'The
 figures for women attacking men,' Ms Ruddock assured me, 'are minuscule.' During
 the discussion, Ms Ruddock agreed that the Government is developing a national
 strategy for tackling all forms of violence against women, which will be
 published this autumn. I asked if the UK Men's Movement or the Families Need
 Fathers group had been consulted. Ms Ruddock said she didn't think they had much
 to offer any discussion. She also made it clear that she did not think that I
 had anything to offer either. As a result of this meeting, a few concerned women
 met up with lan Kelly of the UK Men's Movement and we agreed that it was
 necessary for women to form their own organisation to protect the rights of
 families and their fathers.
 Another major concern of mine is the programmes developed in America under
 which men considered 'perpetrators' are forced into counselling programmes,
 often run by bitter anti-male feminists. The Duluth programme is one of the best
 known. They identify common characteristics in perpetrators of domestic
 violence, including such traits as holding traditional views about men's
 position in society and in the family.
 Translated, this means that the men in the programme must admit to their
 patriarchal heritage; their crime is being born a man and these programmes are a
 very crude form of feminist brain washing.
 Some of the other US legislation is equally frightening. In California, men
 who have been found guilty of domestic violence have to sign on at the local
 police stations along with the paedophiles. I asked Ms Ruddock if the Women's
 Unit proposed importing these programmes into England. She sidestepped the
 One piece of research which has not yet managed to see the light of day is
 that some of the worst violence does not occur between men and women or even
 between men and men but between women and women. Lesbian violence is very
 violent and a source of great embarrassment to the radical feminist movement.
 In a survey of 1,099 lesbians (to be published soon), Lie and Gentlewarrior
 found that 52 per cent of the respondents have 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 the sole perpetrators of domestic violence hold up its head?
 Edmund Burke remarked: 'For evil to triumph, it is only necessary for good men
 to do nothing.' For nearly 30 years, men have done very little to protect
 themselves from being disenfranchised from their homes and from their children.
 Now, with this new legislation already prepared without proper consultation and
 due to appear in the autumn, will good men continue to do nothing?

LOAD-DATE: July 7, 1998
                              127 of 278 DOCUMENTS
                   Copyright 1998 Guardian Newspapers Limited
                                  The Observer
                                 June 28, 1998
SECTION: The Observer News Page; Pg. 26
LENGTH: 176 words
HEADLINE: Letter: Women who abuse
 'Hundreds and thousands of children have witnessed their fathers stabbing,
 punching, beating, burning or raping their mothers.' So reads a sub-headline on
 Father's Day (News, last week).  In my view, this is another biased report on
 domestic violence. Sixty per cent of child abuse is perpetrated by women. These
 abused children are the ones who grow up in many cases to become the abused and
 the abusers of the next generation.
 Because the feminist movement refused to recognise the role of women in
 domestic violence, we have allowed it to insist that 'all women are innocent
 victims of men's violence'. There are too many mothers, grand-mothers, aunts and
 sisters who have watched the men in their families being brutally attacked by
 their female partners. Men who have also been stabbed, punched, beaten, burnt
 and sexually abused by women.
 Until women are made to take responsibility for their own violence and their
 choice of relationships, we will see no further progress towards peace in the
 Erin Pizzey Twickenham Middx

LOAD-DATE: June 30, 1998
                              131 of 278 DOCUMENTS
                   Copyright 1998 Guardian Newspapers Limited
                             The Guardian (London)
                                 April 14, 1998
SECTION: The Guardian Features Page; Pg. 17
LENGTH: 71 words
HEADLINE: Letter: For the record
 I AM shocked by the publication of Erin Pizzey's untrue and damaging letter
 (April 8).  Neither I personally, nor the organisation that I belonged to - the
 London Women's Liberation Workshop - was ever, to my knowledge, engaged in
 planning or conducting bombing attempts outside the Miss World contest or the
 Post Office Tower or anywhere else, or in any other acts of violence.
 Sally Alexander.

LOAD-DATE: April 15, 1998
                              132 of 278 DOCUMENTS
                   Copyright 1998 Guardian Newspapers Limited
                             The Guardian (London)
                                 April 11, 1998
SECTION: The Guardian Features Page; Pg. 20
LENGTH: 148 words
HEADLINE: Letters: Of women's affairs: political and personal
 ERIN Pizzey rails against "vicious and bullying females" (Letters, April 9)
 in the early years of women's liberation. What a blast from the past.  I was
 there, too, and recall her as often being a pain in the arse. However, as I
 recollect, she was asked to leave the Women's Liberation Workshop because she
 went to the police and offered herself as an informer.
 Not surprisingly, when her offer to the police came out, most women were
 The decision to ask her to leave the workshop was taken only after an open
 and typically endless meeting.
 As far as I know, no one else was ever formally asked to leave the workshop
 which was open to "all women" and had no membership forms. Pizzey is still
 remembered by many as the founder of Chiswick Women's Aid. It would be a shame
 to let her ancient rant distort the reality of the past.
 Sue O'Sullivan.

LOAD-DATE: April 14, 1998
                              133 of 278 DOCUMENTS
                   Copyright 1998 Guardian Newspapers Limited
                             The Guardian (London)
                                 April 9, 1998
SECTION: The Guardian Features Page; Pg. 23
LENGTH: 174 words
HEADLINE: Letter: Beasts behind beauty protest
 RE your article on protests against Miss World (Flour power, Women, April 7)
 I have very different memories of those days in the early 1970s. Before me I
 have a letter from Sally Alexander ". . . and the collective decided that until
 the whole matter was sorted out, and you had given a statement of your position
 to a woman lawyer, or someone in the NCCL (National Council for Civil
 Liberties), you should no longer work in the office or attend meetings of any of
 the collectives".
 I, along with a few other women, dared to object to a bombing attempt on a
 BBC van outside the Miss World contest and, later on, another bombing attempt on
 the Post Office Tower. For women who claimed that they were part of a new
 movement to liberate other women from male oppression, I have never come across
 a more vicious and bullying group of females.  I made my "confession" to the
 movement lawyer and was told that the document would be kept and used against me
 if I ever tried to make my position public.
 Erin Pizzey.

LOAD-DATE: April 13, 1998
                              140 of 278 DOCUMENTS
                   Copyright 1998 Associated Newspapers Ltd.
                          DAILY MAIL (London) (London)
                                January 8, 1998
LENGTH: 1108 words
HEADLINE: Why DO we love men who beat us?
BYLINE: Angela Lambert
 WOMEN who suffer wife beating call it the invisible crime. It hap-p ens
 behind closed doors, and when it's exposed people are usually astonished.
 'But he's such a charmer,' they say of the abusive man. 'How is it
 possible?' Yesterday the wife of Shaun Scott, who stars in The Bill as Detective
 Inspector Chris Deakin, described being beaten up so savagely by her husband
 that he split her cheek and gave her an appalling black eye.
 Yet poor Caroline Scott feels it's her fault. She thinks she has failed,
 that she must have neglected their marriage. She felt she deserved to be beaten.
 And yes, of course, she is willing to have him back.
 Far from being unusual, she is typical of battered wives. They are all too
 ready to make excuses for the man who knocked them half-unconscious, and they
 resolve to be a better spouse in future.
 Why do wives - and society - show such extraordinary forgiveness towards men
 such as Shaun Scott?
 Wife-beating, like alcoholism, is no respecter of social status. I knew a
 judge and a senior diplomat who beat up their wives - not to mention a
 university professor, a top Army officer and a headmaster. All of them pillars
 of society; all secret wife-beaters.
 According to experts in domestic abuse, wife-beaters are often very charming
 and very plausible.
 They have to be. Their reputation depends on keeping their violent
 tendencies secret.
 Few people look beneath the surface, and too many find it hard to believe
 that an apparently sympathetic, gentle, attentive man - let alone a well-spoken,
 middle-class professional - could be a Jekyll and Hyde figure.
 When they're not brutally attacking their partners - and sometimes their
 children these men can make thrilling husbands and lovers.
 I should know; I was once involved with one. He was tender, adoring,
 HE PROMISED to be my lifelong soulmate. He would never leave me, never be
 unfaithful or so he said.
 And I believed him. The first time he hit me, my reaction was sheer
 His agonised guilt and contrition afterwards convinced me that it had been a
 one-off. Just like Caroline Scott.
 I told myself he was under stress at work. After all, he had been
 complaining of headaches and sleeplessness and, over the previous few weeks, had
 seemed tense.
 I told myself it was my fault for basking in his adoration and not giving
 enough back.
 The second time I was less forgiving. Even though he told me on bended
 knees, sobbing with shame and self-disgust, that it would never happen again, I
 had my doubts. I told him that if he hit me a third time, we were finished.
 More than a year passed peacefully. Then one night, out of the blue, his
 rage erupted and he beat me savagely. I had no idea that hard hands and scalding
 water could hurt so much.
 I was left bruised, burned and shocked - but determined. I rang my solicitor
 and took out an injunction to prevent him coming near me again.
 Ironically, I was heartbroken at losing him but I knew that, having attacked
 me three times, he wasn't likely to stop, no matter what he promised. I was
 right and I was lucky; I got out.
 Yet, like many women, I did not consider myself the 'victim type'.
 I had a degree, a well-paid job, I owned my house. I was a feminist, a
 thoroughly liberated woman. All the same, it happened to me.
 When the truth about abusive men emerges, people always ask: 'Why on earth
 did she stay with him?' Most women give the same answer as Caroline Scott:
 'Because I still love him.' The second reason, for women who have children, is
 that they want to hold the family together.
 The children love their father, unless he's a complete lout, and want their
 parents to stay together.
 Many abused wives fear the break-up of the family and its damaging effects
 on their children more than they fear the brutal blows.
 'After all,' they say, 'most of the time he isn't violent. And he's a
 wonderful dad.' Many women defend their abuser by claiming that he can't help
 himself. They liken it to drinking.
 An alcoholic will say and do things that wouldn't be possible if he were
 sober. Most wives with an alcoholic partner hope that, one day, he'll reform.
 Besides, it gives them a certain lever of power, to be the only one who
 understands the man's weakness so intimately.
 Erin Pizzey, Chiswick Women's Refuge's first director, believed there was
 another reason why women stayed with the men who battered them: the relationship
 brought melodrama and excitement to their lives.
 A violent marriage is never boring or predictable, while reconciliation can
 be thrilling and is often sexually passionate.
 Abused wives, she concluded, sometimes became addicted to the adrenaline of
 living on a knife-edge.
 One wife said to her: 'After the intensity and passion of that sort of
 relationship, a peaceful life seems flat by comparison.' Pizzey concluded that
 many women secretly relished the power they had over their man. An abuser may
 have physical control over her, but she too has a kind of control because she
 knows his secret.
 This is why the batterer has to grovel afterwards: he needs her co-operation
 to protect him from public disapproval. Charmers are charming because they want
 to be liked, and no one likes a wife-beater.
 Society is faced with an impossible choice. Should an abusive husband be
 sent for trial and, if convicted, go to prison?
 If so, the consequence is likely to be a one-parent family relying on
 welfare, and unhappy children who miss their father.
 Many such cases lead to divorce, and what happens then?
 Why, the charmer finds a new wife and the abuse starts all over again.
 RESEARCH proves that violence is often inherited.
 We have all come across families where generation after generation shows a
 tendency to ungovernable rages, as though the poison were passed through the
 Is it realistic to hope it can ever be eradicated?
 Of course, if counselling and therapy can help abusers to reform, this is
 the best possible outcome.
 But women can help, too, by remembering it is not their fault.
 No woman should tolerate the pain and humiliation of violence, or conspire
 with their abuser to keep their guilty secret.
 If women ceased to suffer in silence, gradually but inexorably, domestic
 abuse would be despised and outlawed by society, just as child abuse has been in
 the past 20 years.
 Why do men beat women?
 Because they can. It is high time we expressed our unanimous loathing and
 contempt for the cowards who beat up those weaker than themselves.
 Only then shall we ensure that, in future, they can't.

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                          DAILY MAIL (London) (London)
                                January 2, 1998
LENGTH: 846 words
HEADLINE: Our lost innocence;
 Regrets of girls who found out too young about love
 MOST girls who have underage sex regret it and wish they had waited until
 they were older and wiser.
 A study shows that they are often coerced into having sex for the first time
 and the decision to lose their virginity is seldom made out of love.
 The most common reason was a curiosity about sex while ten per cent reported
 being drunk.
 The findings, published in the British Medical Journal, indicate that the
 sexual revolution of the late Sixties, which promoted teenage sex, has left
 women with a legacy of regret.
 Underage sex and child pregnancies are a growing problem in Britain.
 Fourteen-year-old schoolgirl Sarah Cook was left devastated after she had a
 child with a 20-year-old Turkish waiter she met on holiday.
 Last year, Jennifer Teague, 12, became pregnant after having sex with a
 13-year-old boy. She said later: 'Afterwards I knew it was the baddest thing I
 had ever done.' Researchers found 54 per cent of women regretted losing their
 virginity too early and among those who experienced sex before the age of 16 the
 figure rose to 70 per cent.
 Only 16 per cent of men thought they should have waited longer while 11 per
 cent said they should have had sex sooner.
 The researchers questioned 477 men and 458 women born in Dunedin, New
 Zealand, between 1972 and 1973. They found the average age for first sexual
 intercourse was 17 for men and 16 for women.
 Seven per cent of women reported being forced to lose their virginity. The
 younger the girls were, the more likely it was that coercion was involved.
 Fewer men than women gave the main reason for having first sex as being 'in
 love' or carried away with their feelings and more men than women said they
 'wanted to lose their virgin- ity'. The survey also found that sexually
 transmitted diseases were much more common in women.
 Thirteen per cent of men who lost their virginity before the age of 16
 reported a sexually transmitted disease compared with 28 per cent of women.
 Tellingly, while 77 per cent of men said that they and their partners were
 'equally willing' to have first sex, only 53 per cent of women shared this view.
 'It is unclear whether young age at
 first intercourse was itself responsible for the lack of willingness and
 subsequent regret reported by many young women,' said the survey.
 'Whatever the explanation, these results show that a substantial proportion
 of young women regret early intercourse.' The New Zealand research supports what
 is known about sexual behaviour in Britain where the average age for first
 intercourse is 17 for both sexes. Last year a survey for the Economic and Social
 Research Council found four out of five girls who lost their virginity under 16
 described it as a 'negative' experience.
 More than half regretted their decision, saying they had sex before they
 were ready or chose the wrong partner.
 Many girls who had under age sex later met someone they 'really loved' and
 wished they had waited and had their first sexual experience with that person
 think about sex most of the time.
 But she regretted her first experience.
 The 27-year-old said: 'I'm not sure how old I was, but I do know that I was
 incredibly young and naive and didn't realise what was happening.
 'It was with some guy at a party, and I regretted it immediately. There was
 absolutely no romance and we split up the next day.' Women's rights campaigner
 Erin Pizzey, 57, said: 'My attitude to sex hasn't changed over the years.
 'I have never thought recreational sex was possible for women.
 'Women hand their souls over to men when they have sex.' 'After school, I
 went to Hong Kong as an 18-year-old virgin. There was this huge thing about
 'doing it' so I found myself a much older Norwegian man.
 'It was a complete failure. I said something like "You're not getting that
 anywhere near me" and that was the end of that.
 Miss Pizzey, who was married for 17 years to Jack Pizzey and 13 years to
 Jeff Shapiro, added: 'One night stands don't suit me at all. I end up feeling
 even more disgusted with the person I slept with than with myself.'
 I did it just because everyone else did
 ACTRESS Sally Ann Triplett, 34, says that peer pressure pushed her into
 having sex when she was a teenager.
 She said: 'I lost my virginity during a one-night stand with a guy I worked
 with backstage.
 'I had an evening job after college as a dresser when I was about 17 and
 decided that I had to lose my virginity because everyone else I knew had.'
 Sally, who is starring in the West End musical Jolson, added: 'All I really
 wanted was to be able to say that I'd had sex. I saw him again ten years later
 and felt sick with embarrassment.' TV presenter Amanda de Cadenet, 25, lost her
 virginity at 15, living up to her nickname of Wild Child.
 She said: 'You hear about how sex is so wonderful. Well it isn't. It rarely
 works out the first time. I would say: Don't do it before you are absolutely
 sure you are ready.'

LOAD-DATE: January 6, 1998
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                                  The Observer
                                November 2, 1997
SECTION: The Observer Review Page; Pg. 6
LENGTH: 1392 words
HEADLINE: Battered men: My wife doesn't understand me
 'She waved a kitchen knife at me the other night,' said the troubled
 husband, speaking of his wife. 'She said she was going to kill me. She's mad,
 she's really crazy. She's hitting me and kicking me, and the kids are upstairs
 listening. And I just stand and take it. I don't hit back or nothing. I'm just
 not made that way.' This man is an acquaintance rather than a friend, but I have
 a strong impression of the kind of man he is: mid-thirties, employed, reliable,
 the committed father of three children under 10 and, so far as I can tell, a
 rather gentle fellow. I find his story believable. But does anybody else?
 The troubled husband doesn't think so. He has left the marital home he'd
 shared for a dozen years, saying that the blows, threats and humiliations had
 become too relentless and he had no other choice. He describes himself as
 'helpless' and says no one in authority would take his story seriously if he
 told it to them, especially the violent parts. Even though he's moved away, he
 says his misery continues. He maintains contact with his children, especially
 his two sons, but complains that this is only at his estranged wife's
 convenience. 'I look after the kids when she has better things to do. She treats
 me like shit.'
 Do you believe him? Do you believe him in the same way that you may be more
 than ready to believe a thousand accounts by women of the hitting, kicking,
 knife-wielding men with whom they've found out they are living? And if you are
 willing to believe him, how do you feel about him? That he is a genuine victim
 entitled to the same moral, practical and legal support as women? Or that he is
 merely too feeble to assert himself as any normal man would?
 Most people seem to think that only the last of these questions deserves a
 'yes'. Male victims of domestic violence are rarely heard about and the likely
 assumption is that, insofar as they exist at all, the damage done to them is
 relatively trivial.  Refuges for battered women have become an established
 feature of modern society since Erin Pizzey's pioneering work in Chiswick but
 there are no such facilities for men. There is only one telephone helpline MALE,
 in south London and that only operates two days a week, on Mondays and
 Wednesdays. Even the shorthand term used to describe men physically harmed by
 female partners 'battered men' sounds ridiculous.
 There are signs, however, that the issue will secure wider and more serious
 recognition. Three years ago, a Mori survey for the BBC's Here And Now programme
 produced the wholly unexpected finding that 18 per cent of men in heterosexual
 relationships have been subjected to domestic violence. Since then, police
 statistics have shown that, in some areas, the number of men reporting assaults
 by the women they live with has doubled.
 Now, American journalist Philip W. Cook has written a book, Abused Men: The
 Hidden Side of Domestic Violence (Praeger Publishing, pounds 21.50) which has
 been praised by domestic violence experts in the US and by Erin Pizzey. Cook
 examines all the available US data including police reports, surveys of hospital
 admissions and general public surveys to conclude that there is indeed a huge,
 barely acknowledged incidence of domestic violence by women against men, at
 least as much as the other way round, and that this has major implications for
 social policy and the ways in which groups seeking to reduce domestic violence
 go about their vital work.
 Through detailed case studies, Cook illustrates what male victims claim are
 the distinctive characteristics of woman-on-man domestic violence: women's
 greater use of weapons and reliance on premeditation and surprise; men's
 reluctance to strike back, sometimes out of traditional gallantry, sometimes
 because they've learnt that resistance of any kind led to escalation; feelings
 of powerlessness reinforced by embarrassment 'real' men are supposed to
 dominate, not be dominated and to neither feel nor reveal emotional pain.
 The testimony of the men I spoke to echoed these patterns to an uncanny
 degree. Marc from Hull is a teetotal ex- serviceman and Falklands veteran. He is
 nearly six feet tall and weighs 14 stone. It is 10 years since he married his
 now ex-wife, whom he describes as being about five foot six and eight stone.
 Marc talks of a steadily increasing level of violence which began a couple of
 months after the marriage and culminated in a 'vicious beating' with a rolling
 pin in front of their three young children. He says the intermediate stages
 involved slaps then punches delivered with a fistful of keys and having a door
 slammed against his arm, leaving his flesh permanently scarred.
 Marc describes his own, non-violent conduct within the relationship as a
 mixture of conventional stoicism ('I'm a bloke, I can take it') and a self
 -deluding optimism that the more harmonious phases could compensate for the bad.
 'There'd be a row every couple of weeks and some real ding-dong once a month
 which I think had a lot to do with premenstrual stress. But in between there
 could be good times, a bit of fun, a bit of sex. I often left the house but I
 thought it was better going back than having nobody. And there were the kids - I
 was frightened to leave them with her. So for eight years I just stuck at it.
 They say women victims keep going back to their abusive husbands and I know how
 that feels. Men are the same.'
 Terry from Northern Ireland is another fit six-footer. He says the violence
 in his relationship began when his partner became pregnant. 'She would become
 very angry and start beating on her stomach, threatening to kill the child
 inside her.' Eventually, they had two children together she also had a son from
 a previous marriage. Terry says she would threaten to kill them, or him, or
 herself, and subjected him to ferocious verbal abuse, rough treatment and
 goading. 'She took me by the hair and slammed my head against the wall. She
 screamed, 'Hit me, you're only a fucking wimp.' I'm a keep-fit fellow. If I'd
 snapped, I could have killed her. The way she spoke to me was appalling 'Do the
 fucking washing-up, I'm off to bed for the afternoon.' I put up with this to
 stop the violence.'
 The worst period came after Terry's partner was referred to a clinical
 psychologist to help her control her anger. He believes it was her indecision
 over whether or not to accept help that made her violence worse. She tried to
 stab him, hit him with shovels and smashed a framed picture across the bridge of
 his nose. 'She wrecked the house. She wrecked me too.'
 What are we to make of these stories? And what of claims that they are just
 the tip of an ugly iceberg? At the very least they are inconvenient. They
 challenge conventional wisdom about the imbalance of power between the sexes and
 about the belief that women alone are in need of escape routes from physical
 But the difficulties raised by 'battered men' run deeper than that. Not
 simply because many who work with abused women will take a lot of convincing
 that men can be victims on anything like the same scale, but because they
 suspect the claims made on behalf of such men may be used to discredit their
 analysis of why domestic violence occurs.
 Philip W. Cook is acutely aware that it would be wholly counterproductive if
 the difficult and still under-researched subject of abused men were either
 hijacked by the 'men's rights' tendency or dismissed out of hand by the fringe
 of the women's movement. He insists his findings should not be misused in this
 way and claims they are a contribution to the struggle for gender equality
 rather than some implicit attack on it, not least because violent women seem so
 often to have been the victims of domestic abuse themselves.
 Terry from Northern Ireland puts it in his own words: 'Remember, these women
 need help as well as the men. I think we should help everyone involved in
 domestic abuse, including their children because they are being abused too. And
 that is why the cycle of abuse continues.'
 Some changes have been made to names and details. Dave Hill is the author of
 an extended essay on the future of men which will be published in Weidenfeld &
 Nicolson's 'Predictions' series soon after Christmas. The MALE helpline number
 is 0181 644 9914

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                             The Guardian (London)
                                October 13, 1997
LENGTH: 1120 words
 Our dilemma is what best to tell a four-year -old about her father. Our
 daughter was a battered wife, abused by her husband, who was a compulsive liar,
 drank and would not pay his share. The police often had to be called and the
 childwitnessed this. He refused to pay maintenance until forced and has never
 asked to see her. The police have been involvedrecently because of threats made
 against the family and weeks of silent calls. The child says now and again that
 she has adaddy and what his name is. She never asks to see him because there was
 never a relationship between them. He was only apresence in the house. She is
 going to school soon, where she will see other children happily with their
 caring fathers. Dowe say her father is not fit to let her see him? This could be
 devastating. Do we say he's never tried to see her? This couldmake her feel
 worthless. At present, we say he is working a long way away, whereas he actually
 lives a few yards away,working in the same company as our QBY: Erin Pizzey, Jan
 Talk to her mother
 Say nothing. It's not up to you to decide what to tell her, it is up to her
 mother. The language you use in describing her father (your son-in-law) suggests
 you are anything but dispassionate about him. Your daughter is one of the two
 principals in this relationship. She is also the person who knows what her child
 saw and experienced and how it affected her, and is therefore in the better
 position to know what and how and when to tell her child what she needs to know.
 You have already told her something that is not true, that her father lives
 a long way away. When she inevitably discovers that he lives much closer, her
 relationship with you will become tinged by mistrust. It is better to volunteer
 nothing and, when necessary, tell only the truth.
 My own daughter is now beginning to sever the links of a mentally abusive
 marriage. In the car late one afternoon, my nearly three-year-old grandson,
 half-asleep, recited an abusive conversation that could only have been between
 his parents. It gave me an insight into what he must have seen and heard over
 the past year or so. I told my daughter about this incident so that she could
 decide what, if anything, she needed to say to her little boy.
 Let your daughter answer the inevitable questions, but make sure you know
 what she wants her child to know so that if it comes up, you can reinforce, not
 enlarge upon, her messages to her child.
 DSF East Sussex
 Step back
 My immediate response is: 1) never lie to a child (and that is not the same
 as always telling the whole truth) and 2) the answers to all your questions must
 be given by your daughter. What she needs now is your understanding and
 encouragement, but not your over-involvement. I sympathise with your situation:
 I know my parents went through tremendous anxieties during my 13-year, sometimes
 violent marriage. However, the thing I found most difficult was my mother's
 Take a step back and be thankful your daughter is out of her relationship.
 But don't assume your granddaughter didn't have a relationship with her father.
 She almost certainly did and to deprive her of an acknowledgement of that,
 whatever it was like, will drive her into herself.
 DH Cambridge
 Be honest
 What bothers me about your dilemma is that you say your granddaughter 'never
 asks to see him because there was never a relationship between them. He was only
 a presence in the house.' Yet you also say: 'The police often had to be called
 and the child witnessed this.' Children involved in cases of domestic violence
 often become very confused. No parent is 'only a presence in the house',
 particularly a violent parent. Your granddaughter will have been horribly aware
 of what was going on. Sometimes very young children in violent families come to
 believe that the parent excluded from the house (almost always the father) is a
 victim. They feel guilty and sad, and often responsible for the excluded parent.
 Perhaps your granddaughter's silence hides a very deep concern for her father?
 My advice is to talk to her openly. If you find this difficult, talk to the
 counsellor in her new school. Unfortunately, as you are finding out, a violent
 relationship, especially if children are involved, can be a life sentence. The
 perpetrators do not conveniently disappear. Violence-prone people are unaware of
 other people's feelings and behave as if they are above the law. The sooner you
 talk with your granddaughter, the safer you all will be from his manipulations.
 It is important now that you record all attempts at harassment of your family.
 Just be very honest about his behaviour and why it is unacceptable to your
 family. I think you will find she will be very relieved.
 Erin Pizzey, Twickenham, Middx
 Try to explain
 I am the mother of young children, aged three and five. My husband and I
 have a policy of always trying to explain things and respond to our children
 truthfully, in simple terms with which we feel they will be able to cope.
 Telling a child lies, however good the intention to protect, can sow the
 seed for deep resentment later on. You should try very hard not to be judgmental
 when discussing her father. A child of four has no life experience to enable her
 to make sense of complicated explanations which adults may find helpful.
 She will encounter children at school, both with and without daddies. Some
 of the daddies will indeed be happy and caring; some will be less than happy and
 some not so caring. Each child will have different and individual circumstances,
 and your granddaughter will see this for herself.
 If I were you, over time, I would get across the following information to
 this little girl in whatever way you, who know her best, feel she would cope
 with it. That her daddy and mummy - like some other daddies and mummies - could
 not live together happily, which is why they now live apart. That she may one
 day see her daddy again, hopefully when he is feeling better, but that he's had
 an illness which makes him very cross and angry - especially when he has drunk
 lots of alcohol.
 This paves the way for future contact, whether positive or negative; it
 gives her, at a very simple level, an explanation for his absence from her life.
 It doesn't give her any false hope about his feelings towards her, either now or
 in the future; it should help her not to feel any responsibility for the
 situation; and it is the truth.
 Try to take the emphasis off you being the ones in control of whether or not
 she sees her father. And you should tell her that her daddy now works 'quite
 nearby', as he could turn up on the doorstep.
 Jane Spencer-Rolfe, Suffolk
LOAD-DATE: October 14, 1997
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                             The Guardian (London)
                                October 1, 1997
LENGTH: 161 words
BYLINE: Erin Pizzey. 
 I HAVE worked internationally on paedophile cases and was horrified to read
 your Leader (September 29) suggesting that there should be "some form of halfway
 house to test a paedophile's readiness for release". Why can people not grasp
 that paedophilia is an incurable condition? I have never, in all these years,
 ever seen a paedophile recant or even agree that their "love" or "need" for a
 sexual relationship with a child or children is grossly abnormal.
 In my book, the only rehabilitated paedophile is a dead paedophile.  I know
 this is a totally unfashionable view but "to test a paedophile's readiness for
 release", as you put it, means that, should the paedophile fail the test,
 another child will suffer not just sexual abuse but also a life that is blighted
 Convicted paedophiles should be offered permanent, humane incarceration. The
 alternative is further damaged and destroyed children.
 Erin Pizzey.
LOAD-DATE: October 2, 1997
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                              The Herald (Glasgow)
                                 August 1, 1997
LENGTH: 1027 words
HEADLINE: No Headline Present
BYLINE: Anvar Khan
 The fact that Janette Pink continued to sleep with Paul Georgiou after
 realising that he had infected her with the HIV virus is hard to stomach. Her
 decision forced her to have an abortion.  Why any woman who is regularly abused
 by her partner continues to live with him is a mystery. A mystery, that is, to
 all those women and to all those men who have never had to fight for their
 Mrs Janette Pink moved to Cyprus in July 1993 after the collapse of her 20
 -year marriage to an accountant. She befriended Paul Georgiou, a Cypriot
 fisherman, in a bar. He told her he had four children and that his wife Martha
 was dying of cancer. She gave him her 25,000 divorce settlement to buy a new
 boat. She was kind and naive. Many random murder victims are. It's their trust
 that kills them.
 Pink says she had unprotected sex with the Cypriot because he refused to use
 a condom. She slept with Georgiou on his stipulated terms. She risked her life
 rather than his wrath. Experienced women would have smelt a rat. Pink fell for a
 lowlife that streetwise teenagers would have nosed out as a sad waste of space.
 The only question left is why.
 Decent men don't take cheques off women, nor do they use private grief as a
 lever. Never trust a man who wants your sympathy; it is neither an honourable
 nor a fair demand. If you allow a stranger you are sexually attracted to, the
 run of your compassion, then you are setting a standard of inequality which will
 increase in its perversion throughout your relationship. Many men are thieves;
 you give, they take.
 When a woman feels low, some guy always gets a bargain. Alone and separated
 from her family, Pink was easy prey. There are men who subconsciously choose
 female partners who think so little of themselves they will embrace any calibre
 of bad male behaviour. These guys don't want to love a woman, they don't know
 Sociopathic bullies need the complicity of their partner. You give a man
 that and you give his sadism your blessing.
 Georgiou was used to stalking women, playing Romeo to needy Juliets from all
 over the world, on holiday and primed for flattery. I've never understood why a
 woman takes it as a compliment if a man wants to sleep with her. He might just
 be asking because he thinks you're the one most likely to say yes.  Sometimes
 women are unsuspecting wildebeests, Dolly Dimple simple lion fodder, alerted
 suddenly to the possibility of being eaten alive when it's far too late.
 In business assertive women do well. In romance, self-esteem is the valuable
 commodity men don't often like women having in huge amounts.
 Self-esteem protects you from sharks. It tells a drug pusher to piss off. It
 takes you to the police station after an assault. It shouts at you loudly, in
 front of your mates, when at 12 years old, the fags, vodka, and ecstasy are
 being handed around. It gives you the heart to fight.
 Choosing a good rather than a bad man is a shaky matter of self-respect. I
 don't know Pink's personal history; I would suspect it's a history of low self
 -worth. You don't fall in love with a bastard by accident.
 She is probably a sponge for maltreatment. Erin Pizzey once declared that a
 woman who had a violent background was attracted to violent specimens, stuck in
 a cosmic loop, doomed to repeat the same unsatisfying equation in an attempt to
 purge herself of earlier unhappiness. The self-proclaimed feminist movement
 decried her. They assumed she was saying a woman always "asks for it". Pizzey
 never regained her credibility, but she turned out to be right.
 In a woman, self-respect decides what she will and won't take from a man.
 This is why men so often try to undermine women, to destroy the only weapon we
 Self-esteem is a tool of survival in a society brimming with automatons who
 would use and abuse you, who would cheerfully mince you into bite-size pieces to
 make a quick buck.
 Janette Pink knows this. She knows that when you eventually find self-esteem
 it compels you to bring the monsters to justice.
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                              The Daily Telegraph
                            May 21, 1997, Wednesday
LENGTH: 224 words
HEADLINE: Taking sides
ERIN PIZZEY's refuge for battered wives, set up in her Chiswick home more
 than a quarter of a century ago, eventually turned into a major charity called
 Refuge, which helps women victims of domestic violence. Refuge is about to
 launch a pounds 700,000 appeal to mark its 25th anniversary.  How sad, then,
 that three trustees - including Lady Parker, who was in charge of the appeal -
 should suddenly feel bound to resign. The reason for this is that the
 Canadian-born chief executive of Refuge, Miss Sandra Horley, objected to the
 False Memory Society, which supports parents wrongly accused of sexual abuse and
 of which Gill Parker (who was a GP in West London for many years) was chairman.
 It is not politically correct you see, to acknowledge that there is a problem of
 incompetent counsellors and psychotherapists who persuade their patients to
 "remember" incidents which never happened. In fact, it is fairly common, on both
 sides of the Atlantic. On this side of the Atlantic, it is not seen as
 contradictory to oppose both domestic violence and false accusations, but at
 Refuge, apparently, it is a question of taking sides. "There are more
 perpetrators of child abuse . . . than there are false accusations," says Miss
 Hilary Hannah, editor of Women at Work. "I am surprised that Lady Parker should
 have a foot in both camps."
LOAD-DATE: May 21, 1997
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                              The Daily Telegraph
                             May 17, 1997, Saturday
LENGTH: 667 words
HEADLINE: Lady trustees quit charity over 'false memory' row
BYLINE: By Colin Randall, Chief Reporter, and Eluned Price
THREE senior figures have resigned from the council of management of Refuge,
 the charity that helps women victims of domestic violence, in a dispute over
 "politically correct" attitudes on child sex abuse. The loss of one of the
 three, Lady Parker, wife of the former British Rail chairman, Sir Peter Parker,
 represents a serious setback because of her pivotal role in a pounds 700,000
 appeal marking the organisation's 25th anniversary. Her resignation was followed
 by the departure from the 11-strong council of Lady Rayne, the chairman of the
 council, whose husband is a well-known figure in the City, and Lady
 Browne-Wilkinson, a solicitor, member of the Press Complaints Commission and
 wife of a Law Lord. Tony Blair's wife, Cherie, also a management council member
 and strong supporter of Refuge, is thought to be aware of the dispute, though
 general election commitments have prevented her from attending recent meetings.
 Lady Parker left the charity - which originated with the battered wives' haven
 set up by Erin Pizzey in Chiswick, west London, in 1971 - after a disagreement
 with Sandra Horley, Refuge's Canadian chief executive. The rift arose out of
 Lady Parker's support for the British False Memory Society, which supports
 parents wrongly accused of sexual abuse "discovered" by alleged victims during
 psychotherapy. After an article on the society's work appeared in The Daily
 Telegraph in February, a women's group which rejects the notion of "false
 memory" protested to Miss Horley that Lady Parker's position as chairman of its
 trustees was incompatible with her work at Refuge.  The group, which publishes a
 feminist monthly, Women at Work, from its base in the Wirral, was satisfied with
 Miss Horley's reply dissociating Refuge from the society. Lady Parker felt that
 she was left with no option but to resign after Miss Horley drew the exchange of
 correspondence to her attention. At an extraordinary council meeting, attended
 by neither Lady Parker nor Cherie Booth, Miss Horley is understood to have made
 clear that she would resign rather than modify her stance. According to one
 account of the debate, the chief executive explained that members of her staff
 who had themselves been abused as children considered the False Memory movement
 to be offensive. Lady Parker, a former GP who is known to speak admiringly of
 Miss Horley's work at Refuge, is said by acquaintances to be deeply distressed
 by events. Those who support her say Refuge ought to avoid "misplaced political
 correctness" and concentrate on the plight of women and children who have been
 the victims of domestic violence. Beyond confirming that she had resigned, Lady
 Parker declined to discuss the matter. Lady Rayne and Lady Browne-Wilkinson also
 said they were unwilling to comment. Cherie Booth's aides said that her role
 with the organisation was chiefly a fund-raising function and that she would not
 be drawn on policy differences. At Refuge's request, The Daily Telegraph
 supplied a list of questions to enable Miss Horley to give her account of the
 dispute and explain her objections to the work of the British False Memory
 Society. In reply, however, she confirmed only that three trustees had resigned,
 acknowledged the "sterling work" they had done and said: "It is neither my nor
 Refuge's policy to comment on what happens during council meetings or to comment
 on the views/beliefs of individual trustees." However, Hilary Hannah, editor of
 Women at Work, said that since Refuge was based on belief in the testimony of
 women, it was inconsistent for one of its trustees to believe in "false memory
 syndrome". Asked why it was not possible to be hostile to both domestic violence
 or abuse and to wrongful allegations of such conduct, she replied: "There are
 more perpetrators of child abuse, and they have more to lose and are therefore
 prepared to stand up and fight their corner, than there are false accusations.
 "I was very surprised that Lady Parker should have a foot in both camps."
LOAD-DATE: May 17, 1997
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                    Copyright 1997 Newspaper Publishing PLC
                            The Independent (London)
                             March 10, 1997, Monday
LENGTH: 2068 words
HEADLINE: Battered? Erin Pizzey? Yes, a bit
BYLINE: Deborah Ross
 Erin Pizzey tries her best not to be downhearted. So she says things like:
 "I can hold it together, as long as I don't think too much."
 And: "England's not too bad. There's crocuses. And Tesco. And English
 Sellotape, which seems to stick better than any other in the world."
 Yes, her GP does think she is quite badly depressed and in need of
 psychiatric help. And to this end, he's arranged for her to attend some kind of
 clinic later this week. But she can even find something jolly-ish to say about
 this. "My GP said, 'You know, Erin, there really will be basket-weaving there,'
 so I said, 'Good, I want to weave baskets, I'd love to weave baskets, I'm
 longing to weave baskets.'"
 Erin laughs one of her colossal, bosom-shuddering laughs. And I know what
 she wants me to say. She wants me to say: "That's the spirit." And: "That's
 right, old girl, keep your pecker up." But I can't. Erin Pizzey isn't supposed
 to end up sad and mad-haired and weaving baskets in some kind of psychiatric day
 centre. Unless, of course, she's always been rather sad and mad. In which case,
 it's all been hopelessly inevitable.
 Once, Erin Pizzey was something of a heroic figure. Founder of the first-
 ever refuge for battered women, she singlehandedly did as much for the cause of
 women as any other woman alive. A great battler with a great, Beryl Cook body,
 she moved mountains by seeming more mountainous herself.  She was awarded
 umpteen prizes. She went on every chat show going. She was listed in Who's Who.
 She came across as a thoroughly engaging, go- for-it personality. She made her
 own kaftans by buying an enormous piece of material, laying it on the floor,
 cutting a hole for the head and stapling up the sides.
 And then, when she went off to write novels, the snapshots that came back
 said she was doing very nicely, thank you. She was the "best-selling author" of
 10 surprisingly erotic (in view of the kaftans) Shirley Conran- type novels. She
 had a new, young, handsome husband who didn't mind her being 17 stone with a
 questionable perm. But when she returned to London last week, she did so as
 someone who was penniless, homeless and on the dole. "Oh yes, I'm one of the
 feckless poor now," she says, in what, peculiarly, seems to be almost a boast.
 Is Erin Pizzey enjoying all the attention that statements such as these
 inevitably attract? She says not, but then says she must go and phone Genevieve
 at Channel 4. "They want me on The Bob Mills Show," she declares gaily. No, she
 hasn't a clue who Bob Mills is. But a show's a show, and that, it seems, is
 enough for her.
 Erin says she did not want to return to this country. She wanted to stay in
 Italy, where she has lived for the last two years and where her four dogs and
 cat remain. "Oh, how I ache for them," she moans. But her debts were such that
 she couldn't continue there. Her landlady booted her out for rent arrears. Her
 landlady, she complains, had her by the short and curlies. She knew she couldn't
 leave, what with the pets, but kept insisting on her money, anyway. Then, one
 morning, Erin looked out and saw that the landlady had denuded the two gorgeous
 mulberry trees she liked to write under. "They were naked stumps. And that was
 the last straw." As, obviously, the landlady hoped it would be.
 Yes, she says, some people over here did know she was in dire trouble.  And
 at one point there was, she thinks, a Friends of Erin Pizzey fund.  But, of the
 old sisterhood, she says, only Fay Weldon sent any cash. Not that this surprises
 her. She's attacked most of the others at some point or another. "I used to say
 to Jill Tweedie, 'Jill, you are such a fucking hypocrite. You decant your wine
 from Sainsbury's. You have a house in the town and a house in the country. The
 only working person you've ever met is your cleaner. How can you spout this
 Marxist crap? How can you call yourself a Communist?'"
 Erin spent the first couple of nights here staying with her daughter, Cleo.
 But Cleo is married with three kids and it was all a bit cramped.  So she's now
 moved into a hostel for the homeless in Richmond, west London.  No, the irony of
 Erin Pizzey needing refuge is not lost on her. "How could it be?" she cries
 However, she won't meet me at the hostel. Instead, I have to meet her at the
 nearby house of an old friend. But she insists that the hostel is very pleasant.
 She has her own room, with a wardrobe, chest of drawers and fridge, for pounds 8
 a week. Plus, best of all, "it is such a relief to be warm. Last year, in Italy,
 do you know what my Christmas present to myself was? Having the central heating
 on all day." Crikey, how did she keep warm otherwise? "I collected bits of
 kindling from the forest."
 Erin says she blames herself for how things have turned out. "When I ask
 myself how I have come to this, I say: 'This is a consequence, Erin, of the
 things you've done.'" But, that said, she then goes on to blame everyone but
 herself: her parents; her husbands; the hard-core feminists who were always out
 to get her; even her various publishers. Oh yes, everything would have been all
 right if only she'd been nicer to editors. "I once wrote a cookbook in which I
 called one chapter Beans Means Farts. Immediately, my editor called me up,
 crying: 'It's unpublishable.' 'Why,' I asked.  'Don't you fart at Oxford
 University Press?'" Erin chuckles joyously.
 HarperCollins, her last publishers, dropped her two years ago. Their
 acquisitions committee told her she was no longer what they wanted and, anyway,
 her recent sales had been disastrous. She says this is nonsense.  They gave her
 the boot because she's too "difficult". Her novels, she insists vigorously, sell
 magnificently all around the world. (But, if so, then where is the income?) And
 she is currently writing her next book, The Fame Game, which is about the way
 men always want to destroy powerful women.
 The idea came to her when she was interviewed by Hello! and the journalist
 said to her: "The trouble with you, Erin, is that you cast such a large shadow."
 Erin Pizzey? Inspired by Hello!? It would seem so.
 She doesn't, as yet, have a publisher for The Fame Game. She published her
 last book herself. And the one before that was remaindered after a week or two.
 So, no wonder she now owes pounds 35,000 to banks in Italy and pounds 15,000 to
 banks here. She has no idea how she is going to pay these debts off. Especially
 as she is now on pounds 47 a week and has only the prospect of basket-weaving
 and a spot on The Bob Mills Show ahead of her.
 Erin is now 58. The face, once so lovely in its plump, strong, wonderfully
 fearless way, is now that of a very old woman. Deep lines criss-cross it, then
 come back and criss-cross it again. The eyes swim in opaque pools. The
 stapled-together kaftan has been replaced by a baggy track suit that may once
 have been black but is now a tired, washed-out grey.  She smells jolly splendid,
 though, very Hello! "It's Femme, by Rochas, my one little indulgence," she
 confesses sheepishly.
 Certainly, you wish things had worked out better for her. She did something
 magnificent once, and it would seem only fair. But, that said, she had a rotten
 childhood and maybe the seeds were laid then for a rotten old age. Once messed
 up, do you inevitably go on to mess up? Is that how life works? Perhaps.
 Her father, Cyril, was in fact a brilliantly clever man. One of 17 children
 born to a poor Irish family, he was, she says, the first person ever to get into
 the Foreign Office from grammar school. He became a diplomat, travelling
 endlessly; Erin's childhood was played out all over the world until she was sent
 to an English boarding school at the age of nine.
 Her mother, Ruth, was a gorgeous-looking woman, with a superb figure, blue
 eyes and glossy, chestnut hair. But she was cold, snobbish, wholly
 unaffectionate and given to explosive fits of violence. "She would beat me very
 badly using the flex of the iron. She would do it for no reason, although I
 always knew when it was coming because her face would twitch and a red spot
 would appear on her cheek."
 Erin could not go to her father for comfort. He was a terrible bully who
 threw things and whose idea of a good joke was blowing cigarette smoke up the
 dog's nose. As far as can be made out, her parents' only pleasure came in
 tormenting each other. "Their rows were endless, with the worst being about
 money. My father lived on the imagined abyss of destitution, she lived in the
 never-never land of imagined plenty. They were doomed never to meet in the
 middle. She bought whatever she fancied: antiques; paintings; hand-made
 underwear from Harrods. He saw no reason to spend money on anything. In fact, it
 was hard to get him even to change his clothes or take a bath, because he
 considered baths weakening." Erin doesn't know why her parents were as they
 were. Probably, they were messed up, too.
 She did not, she insists, hate her mother. She pitied her. "She just got
 everything hopelessly wrong, didn't she?" And her father? Well, two days after
 her mother died - when Erin was 17 - she walked out of the house and never saw
 him again, even though he lived another 25 years.  Enough said.
 At 20, Erin married Jack Pizzey, a naval officer who went on to become a
 reporter for TV programmes such as Nationwide and Man Alive. When I ask her why
 she married him, she doesn't come back with "love", or even, "because I fancied
 him rotten." No, she says it was because she wanted something she had never had:
 a loving family. She admits: "Oh, I was young and naive back then."
 She had her two children, Cleo and her son Amos (who paid her fare back from
 Italy) but the idyll of the loving family did not come to fruition.
 Jack, she complains, was never at home. Jack was always working. Or, at
 least, he said he was. Once, at a BBC party, an elegant woman came up to her and
 asked: "Do you ever suspect Jack of having affairs?" "Never," she replied. "We
 trust each other. He doesn't mind that my body went to pot after having the
 children. He likes me in my stapled kaftans." Later, though, she discovered that
 Jack played away from home quite significantly.  "And that woman was one of
 them," she cries furiously.
 She has always, she says, had a lot of love to give and, with Jack not
 around, she had to award it elsewhere. Her children got a lot of it.  As did the
 children of others, who came to stay and never left, and whom she refers to as
 "my eight adopted children". And then there were the battered wives of the
 neighbourhood, who came because they had heard Erin was a good egg and never
 turned anyone away. And so Erin got her big, loving family, of sorts. And
 perhaps Jack just felt rather squeezed out.
 Erin opened Chiswick Women's Aid, the first refuge of its kind, and one
 which spawned a worldwide movement, in 1971. For a time, she was a heroine.  But
 things took a nasty turn when, in one of her books, Prone to Violence, she
 claimed that women in violent relationships may in fact seek out those
 relationships through a kind of addiction to violence.
 The feminist sisterhood went bonkers. And after receiving death threats and
 being forced to have police protection, Erin fled the country with her new
 husband, Jeff Shapiro, an American psychology graduate 20 years her junior. They
 lived in New Mexico and the Cayman Islands before settling in Italy and then,
 finally, divorcing in 1992. Jeff, she says, helped her to type up her novels.
 Being dyslexic, she couldn't manage it herself.  Then, she continues, he got it
 into his head that he was the great writer, not she. So she told him where to
 get off. And he left. And, yes, things did rather dry up on the novel front
 after that. So she got behind with the rent. And couldn't afford the central
 heating on. Or the oven. She cooked on one of those little camping thingies.
 And now here she is, back in London, where she is trying to keep her chin
 up. Sometimes, though, it's quite tough, regardless of whose fault all this may
 be. "It's the little things that finally get to you," she says. "This morning, I
 went to the bathroom in the hostel and found someone had left a nasty brown fag
 butt by the side of the sink. I had a little cry over that. It reminded me I was
 not in my own home. And a home of my own is all I have ever wanted, really."

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                   Copyright 1997 Guardian Newspapers Limited
                             The Guardian (London)
                                 March 4, 1997
LENGTH: 1427 words
 In 1971, Erin Pizzey set up Chiswick Women's Aid, the first refuge for victims
 of domestic violence. Now she is back and in need of help herself. Clare
 Longrigg reports
BYLINE: Clare Longrigg
 AFTER A lifetime of looking after people in trouble, Erin Pizzey, founder of
 the women's refuge movement in the UK, is in trouble of her own. Last week she
 abandoned her house in Italy, which was swiftly boarded up behind her. Clearly,
 the landlady was more concerned about the months of rent arrears owing than
 offering refuge to a foreign divorcee and her pets.  Erin Pizzey, 58, came back
 to London, penniless and homeless.
 'I didn't have any alternative, I was forced to leave. I stayed much longer
 than I should have and let the debts run up because I couldn't bring my four
 dogs and cat with me. That's probably the worst bit. I feel bereft.' She chokes
 back tears.  After 15 years abroad, she retains the quintessentially English
 attachment to her pets.
 Pizzey's latest troubles started when she split up with her second husband,
 Jeff Shapiro, in 1992. She stayed on at their house in Tuscany, but quickly ran
 out of money. She struggled on, working as a barmaid for her English friend
 Susan in exchange for food. The sisters were able to help each other out: Susan
 was trying to get her bar going and coping with young children, Erin helped out
 with beer and babies' bottles.
 In the past, Pizzey has enjoyed a certain amount of literary success. She
 has published 12 novels - which sold modestly. More recently, however, her books
 have begun to 'fall out of favour' and her publishing income, which she
 maintains was never very grand, dried up. 'I got a pounds 30,000 advance for my
 last novel, but if you spread that over four years . . . ' Eventually, when her
 landlady had had enough, Pizzey left the animals with neighbours and crept back
 to Britain to start all over again. She has slept on her daughter's sofa for a
 few days - but her daughter is married with three children and there simply
 isn't space. None of her seven adopted children has room for her, and last night
 she was due to move into her own room in a hostel for homeless families.
 Years after helping other women to find housing, she found it very strange
 to be going through the process herself. 'I feel like Alice through the
 looking-glass. It's 15 years since I've been back here to stay and before that I
 helped thousands of women to be rehoused.' Looking for accommodation for herself
 this week, she has found social services much more helpful and user-friendly
 than before. And she has found many of the ideas she tried to propagate have
 taken root in Britain - at least the campaign has taken root, if not the
 solution. 'When I started going to housing officers with women, it was like the
 Gestapo. Now they're very kind. The most telling thing is that in the doctor's
 surgery there was a poster with the same message we used 15 years ago: 'He gave
 her chocolates and flowers' with a picture of a battered woman. It is
 She is deliberately, doggedly positive about her situation, gleaning
 campaigning value from her experience. 'Until it's you wondering whether you're
 going to have a place to stay, you cannot know what it's like. Everyone has
 their envelope stuffed with precious bits of paper and it quickly becomes
 well-thumbed after you've checked it hundreds of times in a complete panic that
 you might have lost something vital. It's the fear of it all: where do you go?
 What do you do? You never know what that's like until you do it for yourself.
 The point is, anybody can be homeless. The huge majority of people are only a
 few pay-cheques from being homeless themselves.'
 Zoning in on contemporary London's most successful campaign, Pizzey
 announces that she plans to sell The Big Issue on the streets for a while. Why
 not work on the editorial side, given her experience of campaigning and writing?
 But she is wedded to the first-hand experience approach to hardship: 'I'd like
 to start selling first. You don't know what it's like until you've tried
 standing on the street.'
 Erin Pizzey set up the first refuge for victims of domestic violence,
 Chiswick Women's Aid, in west London in 1971. Her strong, vocal example gave
 rise to the establishment of refuges all over the country. But her book, Prone
 To Violence, published in 1981, caused a rift among feminist campaigners. 'I
 said some of the women coming into the refuges were as violent as the men and
 they never forgave me. There was a big split and I lost everything.' She is
 still in touch with one woman who worked with her in the early refuge movement,
 Margaret Howell, who helped her start writing and has supported her since her
 return to London. For the rest, Pizzey believes the women's movement is still
 ruled by 'hard-line separatists' who brook no disagreement.
 After the women's refuge movement ejected her, she moved to Santa Fe in New
 Mexico in 1982 with her husband, to start over again. She was on a new mission:
 'I wanted to prove that domestic violence is as much a problem among rich
 communities as among the poor, and I did. Where there is money, there is so much
 secrecy. The incest levels are high.' Pizzey can't resist a cause and can't help
 getting involved. Quite often, the solution to a battered woman's problem was
 simply financial - another factor that may have led to her present penury.
 'Sometimes a woman just needs to get out. The only thing that will help her is
 the money for a ticket. The last thing she needs is for someone to say: 'Sit
 down and let's talk about the root of your problems'.'
 In America, Pizzey attracted violent resistance to her campaign against
 abuse.  Local rednecks even shot at her dog. But perhaps she has now met the
 most challenging cause of her life: her own.  'People have always come to me,'
 she admits. 'I've never had to ask for help before.'
LOAD-DATE: March 4, 1997
                              159 of 278 DOCUMENTS
                   Copyright 1997 The Telegraph Group Limited
                                Sunday Telegraph
                             March 2, 1997, Sunday
LENGTH: 350 words
HEADLINE: Charity begins at home for Erin Pizzey
ERIN Pizzey, the founder of the refuge movement that housed hundreds of
 battered women in the 1970s, found herself homeless and on the dole last week
 when she returned to England. Ms Pizzey, 58, had spent 15 years abroad after she
 was cast out of the women's refuge movement by hard-line feminists. Now, because
 of debts, she has had to leave the Italian village where she lived and worked as
 a waitress, despite her success in writing 10 best-sellers. After she arrived in
 London last Sunday she signed on at her local social security office and was
 awarded an emergency payment of pounds 27. Now she intends to sell the Big
 Issue, the magazine for the homeless, on the streets of London. She said: "It
 feels schizophrenic. Having taken all these women through these steps of getting
 a home, I'm now starting to do it myself. I don't mind what I get, I just want a
 safe roof over my head and make a new start." Ms Pizzey became a household name
 after she opened the Women's Refuge in west London, originally called Chiswick
 Women's Aid, in 1971. Her example spawned a worldwide movement, with 200 hostels
 in Britain and hundreds more abroad. However, she fell out of favour when she
 opposed more radical colleagues in the Women's Aid Federation. She claims she
 was ousted over her insistence in her book Prone To Violence that not all men
 were responsible for violence.  After receiving death threats and being forced
 to have police protection, she fled to the Cayman Islands with her new husband,
 Jeff Shapiro. She spent much of her book advances on a women's refuge in New
 Mexico, and after her divorce from Mr Shapiro three years ago, she says she
 "never really recovered". Last week her landlady barricaded her home because of
 rent arrears and Ms Pizzey decided to return to London. However she remains
 optimistic. "I had to come back to start over again. I have seen hundreds of
 women who have come through this and come out all right." As well as selling the
 Big Issue, she will finish her latest novel, The Fame Game, about an actress,
 and speak at a doctors' circle throughout London.
LOAD-DATE: March 2, 1997
                              164 of 278 DOCUMENTS
                   Copyright 1996 Associated Newspapers Ltd.
                           Evening Standard (London)
                               November 14, 1996
LENGTH: 547 words
BYLINE: Patrick Sawer

 BRITAIN'S oldest shelter for battered women is 25-years-old next week - but
 one person who won't be celebrating is Chiswick Refuge's founder Erin Pizzey. 
 She will be 1,000 miles away, debt ridden and eking out a meagre living
 working as a waitress in a Tuscan bar.
 'I've got nothing to celebrate,' said Pizzey, speaking from the ramshackle
 mill near Siena that is now her home.
 'I spent 12 years of my life building up the refuge and now I've got
 Friends have seized on the 25th anniversary of the Chiswick Refuge to launch
 a campaign to persuade the British Government to recognise Pizzey's
 groundbreaking work.
 They want to nominate her for an award in the Honour's List and have begun
 gathering letters of support from Pizzey's admirers, including women she
 Ms Pizzey rose to fame after opening the refuge, originally called Chiswick
 Women's Aid, in 1971. Her example was taken up around the world, but Pizzey fell
 out of favour when she clashed with hard-line feminists.
 She claims she was ousted from Refuge over her insistence that not all men
 were responsible for violence and that some women had to take their share of the
 blame. Her book Prone To Violence provoked a bitter backlash from her former
 sisters in the movement.
 Ms Pizzey fell on hard times after pouring much of her money into a women's
 refuge in New Mexico, USA, and seperating from her second husband. She is
 40,000 in debt and suffers from heart problems.
 Her friends now fear for her health and accuse Britain of turning its back
 on one of its most influential female public figures since the war.

LOAD-DATE: November 18, 1996
                              168 of 278 DOCUMENTS
                   Copyright 1996 Guardian Newspapers Limited
                                  The Observer
                             April 21, 1996, Sunday
LENGTH: 1787 words
BYLINE: Polly Ghazi
Research shows 'New Man' is centuries old but he is having to battle harder
 than ever for his rights
 NEW MAN is not only alive and well - but has been around for centuries.
 Research on fathering habits reveals that, contrary to stereotype, many men have
 been fully involved in their children's upbringing since at least the sixteenth
 Phillip II of France, for example, missed his two teenage daughters so much
 when he went on a long sea voyage in 1581 that he wrote them 34 letters, which
 reveal intimate details of their daily lives, including progress with lessons
 and rows with their younger siblings.  An eighteenth-century diary reveals the
 poignant struggles of a father trying to stop his violent wife from abusing
 their daughter.
 'New Man is new only to our imaginations,' says Adrienne Burgess, whose
 historical research will be published in a book, Fatherhood Reclaimed, early
 next year. 'Fathering has always been diverse: some are good at it, some not,
 just like women and mothering. The difference is that we have never heard about
 men's private lives before - the father is the missing figure in English
 Her research, based mainly on the diaries and letters of upper- and middle
 -class families, reveals, she says, a New Man factor traceable back to at least
 the mid-seventeenth century, a trend that has strengthened through the
 centuries. Oral histories of their childhoods recounted by elderly men in East
 Anglia in 1890 show 'the whole range of fathering from dads who cleaned the
 kitchen sink to the archetypal authoritarian. Yet the overwhelming Victorian
 image is of the stern, absent father.'
 Today, according to a report co-authored by Ms Burgess for the Institute for
 Public Policy Research, the left-leaning think tank, 85 per cent of European men
 and women believe fathers should be 'very involved in bringing up children from
 an early age'.
 Yet the report warns that fatherhood in Britain is in crisis. Mothers, it
 states, are the preferred parent for children, and fathers are often 'negatively
 represented' in the media, with their true lives 'largely hidden' from public
 The report, Men and their Children, to be launched at a London conference on
 30 April, has already caused uproar. Its recommendation that unmarried fathers
 should have the same legal rights over their children as married men has
 provoked outrage from rightwingers as a 'charter for unwed fathers'. And its
 calls for fathers to be recognised as 'fully competent parents, no less able
 than women to carry out the intimate, day-to-day caring aspects of parenting'
 have angered feminists.
 Ms Burgess, however, is unrepentant. 'We are just starting from the premise
 that most fathers are nice human beings, not brutal monsters,' she says. 'Our
 research shows that, with more and more women going out to work, men now do as
 much domestic work as women do breadwinning. Yet the myth persists that most
 fathers don't want to know about child care. In fact, they are only a small
 The report argues that, with one in three children now born out of wedlock,
 unmarried fathers should enjoy automatic parental rights and
 responsibilities and the right to statutory paternity leave.
 The pressure group Families Need Fathers wants the Children Act 1989 amended
 to give unmarried men equal rights, arguing that many mothers withhold contact
 between fathers and children for vengeful reasons.
 But many family lawyers fear this would lay women open to unwarranted
 interference from absentee fathers. 'With unwed parents, in many cases the
 mother is bringing up the child alone, with full responsibilities, and to give a
 father equal rights would be unfair,' said Maggie Rae, a partner in the law firm
 Mishcon de Reya, which is representing the Princess of Wales in her divorce
 'And what happens if a woman has a baby after being raped? Does she have to
 apply to a court to have the father's rights removed?'
 But she admitted there was 'widespread ignorance' about a father's existing
 right to apply to the courts for equal rights.  'We urgently need a publicity
 campaign to tell both men and women about their rights and
 responsibilities.  This is not a right/left issue, it is much more profound. It
 is about how we live and work together in this society.'
 According to Sebastian Kraemer, a leading child and family psychiatrist, the
 institute's report has touched a raw nerve in the power struggle between the
 sexes.  'For many women their only power is in the home and they are not going
 to give it up lightly. It's a bit like the IRA and the British Army in a
 standoff. The big question is, who is going to give in first?
 'It is unusual for children to be closer to fathers than mothers because
 they are made inside their mothers. We men are not equal, we are a secondary
 But the institute was right, he said, to emphasise that homes where men
 played an active role housed happier children. 'Women are the first parent, I
 wouldn't deny that. But research shows that when a man shares 40 per cent or
 more of the parenting their children are more rounded people with less
 stereotyped beliefs.'
 The revelation that New Man has been around for centuries, he says, is not
 surprising. But it doesn't help parents to grapple with the changes in work and
 living patterns convulsing Nineties Britain.
 Can men make as good parents as women?
 Of course they can, no doubt about it. These feminist ideas are ridiculous
 men are just as competent and just as good parents
 -Journalist Tony Parsons, who brought up his son after his divorce from
 Julie Burchill
 Absolutely, and sometimes better. Men have got to get their heads up out of
 the sand and stand up for themselves as fathers
 -Erin Pizzey, founder of the Chiswick women's refuge
 Yes, definitely. Men are not devoid of the capacity to care and nurture.
 Their only handicap seems to be their inability to breast-feed
 -Jenny Diski, author, partly brought up by writer Doris Lessing
 I don't believe men can't be as intimate with their children as women. Some
 women are not prepared to let men have a proper share of parenting
 -Tessa Jowell, Labour spokesperson on women's issues
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                              The Herald (Glasgow)
                                 March 7, 1996
LENGTH: 1267 words
HEADLINE: Real point is lost
BYLINE: Anvar Khan
 ANVAR KHAN argues that strident feminists have hijacked the movement to the
 detriment of women
 DISPENSING with your tactical advantage is, strategically speaking never a
 sound manoeuvre. Feminism has traded the home and family for the right to work
 in a menial capacity. Thanks to feminism, women are employed for the same low
 wages and long hours as men. But feminism was just an idea, exaggerated by
 arrogant self-proclaimed intellectuals. What should have been a short, Open
 University course for male and female students on the politics of sex has become
 a cultural disease. Debates rage over where seduction ends and rape begins, and
 the weapons of instinct and self-knowledge are derided.
 The idea of liberating women from the home was taken to the extremes
 necessary for the bothered and bewildered to understand it. When feminism went
 mainstream, it diluted and factions warred. In 1973, rent-a-mob feminists sided
 with squatters occupying Germaine Greer's London flat, accusing her of betraying
 "the cause" when the squatters were finally evicted.
 The same dungareed calibre of women, it has to be said, knowing nothing
 about good PR, chewed baccy and reproduced, often at the same time, at Greenham
 Common. The seventies left sponged up notions of Marxist equality. The idea of
 questioning the traditional role in the home immediately translated as the go
 -ahead to rail against capitalism and the Government. Feminists regarded
 themselves as a maligned minority group. But the ideal the seventies left touted
 was warped. They wanted a matriarchal society, but the working-class have always
 had one. And now the matriarch is bordering on extinction.
 "In countries without social security, if you are unable to compete," said
 Greer more than 14 years ago, "you won't be able to earn enough to afford a wife
 and to reproduce yourself. Here, the cleverest and most successful are the ones
 least likely to reproduce." The post-feminist legacy, everyone is aware of: a
 growing percentage of the female population without children, strong women in
 the workplace perhaps, but therefore fewer strong women in the home.
 Greer - a woman who, along with Erin Pizzey, always denounced the
 hysterical, militant feminist - prophesied a decade ago that intelligent,
 successful women would simply decide, rather than face the alienation society
 places on mothers and children, not to become pregnant. Couple this with the
 fact that Victoria Gillick, a woman with 10 children (at the last count) and who
 championed the power of childbirth and the home, was also regarded as a traitor
 to the cause, and you have feminism in a nutshell. The so-called "cause" is a
 red-herring, both as unrealistic and important to the women who sell it as the
 promised revolution is to suicide terrorists.
 The individualistic hate figures of the feminist movement, who shined with
 commonsense, were and still are vilified. The majority of women who regard
 themselves as liberated see motherhood as a major stumbling block in the right
 to have a life. But this is a hand-me-down prejudice from fluffy bandwagon
 -jumpers; it was not the message from the trail-blazers who designed the women's
 Gillick was crucified for saying the permissive society hasn't done much to
 liberate women. But it's true. The feminists didn't fight for sexual fulfilment,
 the man-made Pill provided the means to find that. Gillick inferred that the
 most radical thing a woman in British society can do is not find a career but
 become pregnant, a condition which immediately makes her vulnerable to the
 inadequacies of society, gaps which the feminists sought to highlight;
 oppressive domesticity, financial dependency, and possibly, subsequent abuse.
 Saying is nothing, however, and doing is everything, and this is where the
 left-wing intellectuals fail. In 1975, while married to her first husband, the
 long-standing enemy of Women's Aid, Pizzey, said: "There's nothing better for a
 human being than a happy marriage. I still hope everyone will end up with that."
 It wasn't radical women, like Pizzey, who despised marriage and the home, but
 their woolly detractors, because they had to disagree with the figureheads of
 the movement about something.
 Pizzey was denounced in 1982 for saying that women from violent homes seek
 out violent men. It is now agreed that women who have violent fathers
 subconsciously seek out violent men to repeat the relationship. In the same
 year, Greer concluded that feminism had minimised the seriousness of abortion,
 devalued the home, and over-dramatised the seriousness of rape. Fair comment.
 Sex without permission is nowadays regarded as far more important an issue than
 the murder of an unborn child. Thanks to the perversion of women's liberation,
 society, in which women are represented, is tolerant of abortion; it is now a
 "feminist" right.
 Icon Camille Paglia has also borne the wrath of so-called feminists for
 saying rape will not end a woman's life, that she can, and millions do, get over
 it.  Left-wing seventies feminists do not want women to be regarded as capable
 and strong. They want women to be portrayed as victims of an unjust world. "None
 of us has grown up in a true family where the home is the centre of social and
 intellectual life," Greer has commented. This is a criticism of present culture,
 yes, but an indication of where the true power lies.
 The very best of women have always known that the biggest challenge is not
 to intimidate men, not even to become pregnant, these are the easy things. The
 greater responsibility is providing society with upstanding citizens: kind,
 loving, disciplined adults who will stand up for those who get a raw deal, the
 way Pizzey did by opening the first refuge for battered women.
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                             The Guardian (London)
                               February 29, 1996
LENGTH: 494 words
 Within 24 hours of hearing about an empty hotel, Erin Pizzey had rehoused 75
 women and children
BYLINE: Annie Taylor
 Erin Pizzey, 57, is a novelist and founder of Chiswick Women's Refuge. Born
 in China, she was sent to school in England, while her mother and diplomat
 father lived abroad; she now lives in Italy.  Twice divorced, she adopted seven
 sons. She has just published her autobiography, Wild Child.
 I SET UP the Women's Refuge 25 years ago, and after it had been running for
 about three years I'd become one of the biggest squatting agents in the country.
 I'd moved on from the two-bedroom original refuge, to a house at 369 Chiswick
 Road, west London, and still needed larger premises. The social services were
 just bullies, and didn't want to rehouse the battered women. Most of the
 husbands would claim they wanted their wives back, so the social wouldn't even
 give them welfare. These women needed somewhere to live.
 One day in 1974 a musician told me about the Palm Court Hotel by the River
 Thames in Richmond. The authorities were quarrelling over what to do with it,
 and it was just standing there empty and derelict. It was a huge building with
 45 suites. He said "We'll do a rock concert for you there." I said "No you
 won't, we'll squat it."
 I spoke to the women at Chiswick Road the next morning and told them about
 the hotel, saying for those who wanted to come to get ready. It didn't take
 long, they had meagre enough belongings. We organised quickly, moved the next
 night, huddled in blankets against the freezing cold.
 Within 24 hours of hearing about the building, we were in - 75 women and
 children. I remember suddenly being so frightened. I hadn't previously
 understood the enormity of what I was tyring to do, or the extent of the
 problem. I had this overwhelming feeling of never wanting to let them down.
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                             The Guardian (London)
                               February 15, 1996
LENGTH: 907 words
 "It is way below what people expected and feared when they talked of a
 thousand priests going over to Rome. I can't imagine there will be any
 opposition to women priests in 25 years' time. There's a clear generation
 divide, more people opposed are over 50 and just by the passage of time, their
 number will shrink"
 Christina Rees, spokeswoman for the Ministry of Women, on the number of
 parishes "opting out" over the ordination of women, Guardian
 "Lots of mothers don't want beautiful nannies. It's an advantage if you're
 pig -ugly"
 Clare, a 26-year-old nanny, Independent on Sunday
 "The film convinced me utterly that if a woman wants to follow a physically
 dangerous career, she should not have a child . . . A child needs a mother more
 than a father. Career fathers may be loving and committed but they have a
 cut-out mechanism that enables them to put their family out of their minds.
 Most women can't do that because our children mean more to us than ambition,
 success, the outside world or our husbands"
 Lynda Lee-Potter on the recent film about mountaineer Alison Hargreaves,
 Daily Mail
 "Where they have been mentioned at all, it is by women columnists in the
 Guardian, and in such pitying tones it makes you want to spit. Boys are
 boastful, clumsy, coercive, ignorant, emotionally underdeveloped and boorish.
 Liberal women believe in frank sex education so that girls can be protected from
 boys - and conservative women are against it for exactly the same reason"
 David Aaronovitch on how boys fit into the debate about girls' magazines,
 Independent on Sunday
 "Jill Tweedie was a friend.
 I loved her dearly, but I used to say to her: 'You're such a fucking
 hypocrite, you decant your wine from Sainsbury's, you have a house in town and a
 house in the country. How can you call yourself a Communist?' I slipped into
 Jill's funeral, I wasn't invited, and I heard someone whisper, 'Oh shit, it's
 that Erin Pizzey' and I thought to myself, this is the end of an era of evil
 Erin Pizzey on the founders of the women's movement, Observer
 "A recent study in Britain concluded that four per cent of people are
 conceived via sperm warfare. In other words, one in every 25 owes their
 existence to the fact that their genetic father's sperm out -competed the sperm
 from one or more other men within the mother's reproductive tract. If this does
 not seem very many, it nevertheless means that since 1900 every one of us will
 have had an ancestor who was conceived via sperm warfare"
 Dr Robin Baker, author of Sperm Wars, Observer
 "This huge bill for compensation is a complete waste of taxpayers' money for
 a ridiculous policy that never should have been implemented"
 David Clark, Labour defence spokesman, on pounds 55m compensation paid to
 pregnant servicewomen
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                                  The Observer
                           February 11, 1996, Sunday
LENGTH: 1400 words
BYLINE: Maureen Freely
Erin Pizzey tells Maureen Freely why she always hated fashion-conscious
 Once she was the conscience of the nation. Now, 25 years after she founded
 the world's first shelter for battered women, Erin Pizzey is telling the Daily
 Mail in an interview to plug her new novel, The Wicked World of Women, that
 feminism has been 'a disaster for women'. The women's movement, she says, has
 'betrayed the family'.
 Like me, you probably thought she was the women's movement. Only a few
 months ago, this paper did an opinion poll on the Hundred Women Who Shook the
 World, and she ranked number 14. When did she go over to the other side? And why
 is it that founding feminist icons keep changing their spots? Is it a way of
 staying in the public eye " as critics of Germaine Greer have insisted " or is
 it just part of growing older and wiser? Fay Weldon, whose career has been at
 least as chequered as Greer's, thinks switching allegiances is not only natural
 but a sign of good mental health. 'You'd better change your mind about something
 in 20 years, or you're a very peculiar person,' she told me this week.
 But that is what Erin Pizzey claims to be " one of those very peculiar
 people who never change their mind. Now tending bar in Tuscany and pounds 60,000
 in debt, she still doesn't go to the hairdresser's. She claims to be the only
 woman on earth never to have gone on a diet.  Even her new and mysteriously
 unprofitable career as a best-selling author is consistent with her desire to
 communicate directly with the ordinary women she claims the women's movement
 She tells me she was actually thrown out of the woman's movement. Now that's
 a blast from the past. It has been decades since there was a women's movement
 that you could get thrown out of. 'I said to them, if you hate men, you're
 fascists, and if you're Marxist you're repeating the politics of tired old men.'
 She hated their elitism and their contempt for grass-roots initiatives such as
 the Chiswick shelter.  She resented the way that the movement's founders were
 'privileged women who could afford to have wild views. The only working class
 women they knew were their cleaners. They were terrified of being unfashionable
 and they only wrote what other people wanted to read.' The first 'big lie' they
 bequeathed us is 'this idea that women could have it all. Men can't have it all,
 so why should women?' The second 'big lie' is that women don't need men. 'I
 remember so many stars of the movement (she names names) impregnating themselves
 and saying their boys would never know their fathers, saying their children
 don't need men.  But I know how much they need them.' It was her take on violent
 men that got her into the biggest ideological trouble.  Radical feminists who
 set up shelters " and the woman who eventually took over her own shelter in
 Chiswick " insist that family violence is rarely perpetrated by women and is
 never the victim's fault. Erin Pizzey's view is that women can collude in the
 cycle without even realising it. For the women, it was the responsibility of
 running the shelter that gave them back their self-esteem " not blaming
 everything on men. 'If men wanted to talk to me at the shelter, I always did.
 And I met some very confused and frightened people.  Violent people don't have
 structures for survival.' It was to make sure the children in her Chiswick
 shelter could learn some of these structures that they brought in 'good gentle
 men' to help look after them. 'Because if kids don't know any gentle men, how
 will they learn how to be gentle?' This philosophy put her at odds with the
 radicals. 'Their cause is to create disharmony between the sexes.  Mine is to
 create harmony.' In her view, their side has won.
 They've brainwashed an entire generation, she believes. 'I've seen it. When
 they reach their mid-thirties, here is a rampant fear. They have their careers
 and their freedom, but they still define themselves through their relationships
 with men.  They say to men: 'We can fuck around just like you', but then when
 they reach 35 they're devastated that these men haven't made a commitment, and
 they won't, because they don't have to. And then they look at us women who have
 fulfilled ourselves by giving ourselves to our families and they hate us.' But
 that's a shame, because: 'If we can't stand together, we'll fall together, and
 we have. I despair of any solution from this generation.' What we need, and what
 she hopes the next generation will have the energy and vision to do, is to
 rescue families. 'To me, a good family is the basis of democracy and is
 democratic to the core. That's why the feminists had to destroy it. You see, the
 movement was Stalinist. It's just that most of them didn't realise it.  A lot of
 them were so stupid and politically uneducated. They didn't even know that they
 were championing the ideas of the most evil men of the twentieth century.
 'Jill Tweedie was a friend, I loved her dearly, but I used to say to her,
 'You're such a fucking hypocrite, you decant your wine from Sainsbury's, you
 have a house in town and a house in the country.  How can you call yourself a
 Communist?' I slipped into Jill's funeral, I wasn't invited, and I heard someone
 whisper, 'Oh shit, it's that Erin Pizzey', and I thought to myself, this is the
 end of an era of evil women.' Talking to Erin Pizzey makes you almost sorry that
 the era of idiosyncratic icons is over. Passions don't run so deep any more.
 Feminism as a word means everything and nothing, and yet the big questions about
 family, men and democracy remain unanswered, while the anger that first fuelled
 the women's movement persists.
 Fay Weldon told me how, not long ago, she was speaking to an audience in
 Chicago about the man-hating things she wrote in her early books and which she
 now finds embarrassing. 'I was trying to say that times had changed. But
 whenever I quoted myself, they just cheered.'
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                              DAILY MAIL (London)
                               February 05, 1996
LENGTH: 2307 words
BYLINE: Jane Kelly
 AT THE age of 35, Erin Pizzey became a household name. She had set up the
 first Women's Refuge in Chiswick, West London. Later she founded The National
 Women's Aid Federation, spawning 200 hostels in Britain and hundreds more
 She was awarded the Italian Peace Prize, appeared in Who's Who, was invited
 on Wogan and had the support of distinguished men such as former Observer editor
 David Astor and Lord Goodman, the late adviser to Harold Wilson.
 Then, after 12 years as the champion of battered wives, the Women's Aid
 Federation passed into different hands and she found herself in a bitter
 struggle with the newly founded Women's Movement. In the end, she says, her
 enemies in the feminist movement destroyed her life and drove her out. She left
 Britain for good.
 Now, at 56, she says she was never an extremist, always essentially a
 middle-class housewife; always cooking, always determined to protect her family.
 Today she calls feminism 'a disaster, a giant cancer that has dug its crab's
 legs into every area of society. They have almost succeeded in destroying the
 family in this country. That was their plan and they have nearly succeeded'.
 She believes that the anti-family 'sisters' she battled with throughout the
 Seventies have pervaded teaching, the probation service, social services and the
 media. She is not reactionary - far from it - but she makes an important
 distinction about her views: 'I am a liberated woman, not a feminist.'
 She continues her campaign through her novels. Kisses attacks what she calls
 'this evil spread by women' and is being published simultaneously with The
 Wicked World Of Women and her autobiography, Wild Child.
 In the Seventies Pizzey often appeared on screen looking like a badly
 damaged tank. She was constantly in court trying to defend her hostels against
 charges of overcrowding, or for helping women to take their children abroad and
 evading custody rulings.
 It was a misleading image. She was not an extremist but says she acted out
 of an urge to mother. Looking after people was her destiny. It was her tragedy
 to be an earth mother just at the time when she believes the feminist movement
 was trying to abolish motherhood.
 She says: 'My quarrel is with feminists. Feminism is a Marxist movement,
 founded on a hatred of men and a desire to destroy the family. It has nothing to
 do with the average woman, women like me who are content to be at home with
 their children.'
 When she first walked into the Women's Liberation Workshop in Shaftesbury
 Avenue in 1971, she could hardly have known how bad the quarrel was going to be.
 She says: 'They were all shouting 'sisters unite'. I thought it was going to
 be about women helping each other and co-operating with men. The first meeting
 filled me with doubts. It was held in a middle-class home in Chiswick and there
 were Mao posters on the living room walls.
 'I told them I had come along because I was lonely at home with the kids.
 They told me I was oppressed by capitalism. I was given a copy of Mao's Little
 Red Book and Shrew, a magazine spewing hatred against men. I pointed out that
 they were all mortgage-holding capitalists and that didn't go down well at all.
 'They were all so middle class. I used to go to dinners in Islington - Jill
 Tweedie and other women journalists would be there, all talking about female
 circumcision in Africa - but when I started my refuge none of them would come to
 help me clean floors or replace washers on taps. I did all that myself. For most
 of the chattering women in the movement it was all a game. They were not
 committed to helping people around them who were in real need.'
 Her break from the Women's Movement came in 1981 when she wrote Prone To
 Violence. This was possibly the first book about male violence against women
 which stated that women often collude with domestic violence.
 For suggesting this she was bombarded with hate mail and death threats.  She
 had to travel everywhere with a police escort and her letters went straight to
 the bomb squad. She was banned from women's groups and greeted by placard-waving
 women chanting: 'All men are rapists.' Her publisher at the time dropped her and
 eventually she was refused entry to the Women's Aid refuges.
 She says: 'I was trying to save women's lives, but all they cared about was
 preventing me from saying anything unpalatable. I saw social workers and
 probation officers who were really political activists with social science
 degrees. They weren't interested in the problems of real women, they were busy
 planning for the revolution.'
 How was it that she alone saw so clearly what others could not see, that
 women colluded with male violence? She replies bluntly: 'I.Q. They had
 second-class brains. I was brighter than most of them. There always were an
 awful lot of silly women in the women's movement - a lot of them have gone into
 the Green Movement now. I had also seen a lot of the world.'
 She was born in China but left at the age of three, on the last ship out of
 Shanghai after the Japanese invasion. On board she witnessed prisoners being
 tortured. She spent a childhood in female-dominated boarding schools, usually
 getting on the wrong side of authoritarian nuns.
 She believes she also stood out from the other radicals because she was
 genuinely working class. She says: 'My father came from a poor Irish family.  He
 went from grammar school into the Foreign Office and became a diplomat.
 He never lost his Hounslow accent or acquired the right table manners. I saw
 him sneered at by his colleagues.'
 By the time she first married, at 21, she knew a great deal about the world
 and its cruelty. She had also experienced domestic violence, mainly from her
 She says: 'My father was a pig, always yelling and screaming, constantly
 making my mother cry. I used to have to defend her from him. But she was worse.
 She was my first enemy. She used to beat me very badly. She loved my sister and
 brother, but she hated me.
 'My parents were abused and abusive. Two days after my mother died I ran
 away from home because my father's behaviour was sexually inappropriate. I
 feared that he would want me to replace my mother.'
 The anger she stored up, along with her phenomenal energy, eventually came
 to use. She says: 'At the moment when that first battered woman came into the
 drop-in centre in Chiswick, and I saw her bruises, it all came together. I
 looked at the bruises and said: 'How can anyone be allowed to get away with
 this?' After that I took women in until we were jammed to the door. I never
 could turn anyone away.'
 When her world seemed to collapse in 1982 following the publication of Prone
 To Violence, she set out for a fresh life in the Caymen Islands with her new
 husband, 20-year-old Jeff Shapiro, and some of her many children.
 During her first marriage she had had two children and adopted seven black
 boys. Her second marriage lasted ten years; they divorced three years ago.
 She says: 'I offered him fame, which he loved, and comfort, therapy and
 safety. I took him away from an incredibly violent home, I saved him. That's
 what I've been doing all my life. I am just a mother, I cook for people.'
 Now she has debts of 50,000 and has no idea where her money has gone.
 Financial collapse means she now lives frugally, in a Tuscan forest, alone
 except for four dogs and a cat. She works seven days a week in a small bar,
 where her feet swell from standing for so long and her eyes stream from the
 cigarette smoke.
 She says: 'It's the only social life I have, but the people there love me
 and women come to me for advice. Their husbands go to the bar and I
 surreptitiously give them advice. I have never stopped helping women to escape
 from abuse, it is my life's work.
 'What makes me happiest is being a wife and grandmother. Although I was not
 mothered myself, I have somehow founded a very stable, happy family.
 That is my greatest achievement.'
 She does, of course, regret what other women have done. She says: 'The
 feminist movement, with its separatism and its lesbians, was such a waste of
 time. If they had taken on my therapeutic model, things might have been
 different. I wanted women to be honest with themselves and stand on their own
 'I was overtaken by people who preferred anger and confrontation. Men have
 been alienated, homes destroyed and children damaged. Instead of working
 together and co-operating, which was the early promise of feminism, we've got
 more divisions than ever. Feminism has been a disaster.'
 * KISSES, The Wicked World Of Women and Wild Child are published today by
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                                  The Scotsman
                             March 24, 1995, Friday
LENGTH: 1510 words
HEADLINE: Life is a battlefield Part one
BYLINE: In The Seventies, Erin Pizzey Fought The Establishment To Set Up A
 Women'S Refuge In London. Now She Writes Romantic Novels And Lives An Idyllic
 Earth -Mother Life In Tuscany With Her Extended Family. But Her Commitment To
 Abused Women Is As Strong As Ever, Writes Gillian Glover
 THE book is called Kisses.
 It features a lip-glossed tousle-haired blonde on the cover, and a lengthy
 dedication inside offers fulsome thanks to three separate staff at London's
 Savoy Hotel, as well as a more general murmur of gratitude to Harrods, Fortnum
 and Mason and Lloyd's Bank.
 Cut. Let's leave that image of sex, shopping and nice new bank notes and
 whizz back 20 years. Here, the scene is a grimy shambling Victorian house. It is
 shrill with the dramas of the 60 women and children cramped into its dreary
 interior. This is the Chiswick Women's Refuge, and at the centre of its
 multi-racial maelstrom stands an implacable Valkyrie.
 Her name is Erin Pizzey, and Britain got to know her very well indeed.
 Outspoken, belligerent and fiercely protective of her mangled, mongrel
 brood, she threw back the nation's sitting room curtains and shone arc lights
 into the dark mayhem of domestic violence.
 Yet Pizzey is the figure dominating the first image as well. And, sure
 enough, it is in the Savoy that we discuss how she moved from one to the other.
 It is familiar territory to her in every sense, because Kisses is her tenth
 romantic novel, and the Savoy is, she says, "the only place worth staying in in
 She does not exactly typify the de luxe hotel client, however. She still
 dresses in earth-mother, hippy-style: long, capacious skirt, embroidered
 waistcoat and a large jewelled cross which she has worn constantly for decades.
 Her hair is an explosion of frizz: untamed as her comments, and the effect is
 rather startling.
 But startle is what Pizzey has always done best.
 She learned as a child; "an unloved, unwanted" little girl who was subjected
 to a brutal childhood of middle-class neglect. Pizzey was born in China in 1939;
 her mother nearly died giving birth and evidently never forgave Erin or her
 twin. Her father was a diplomat, a ferocious man, who struggled hard to
 compensate for his own meagre background in a world where these things were
 thought to matter. The result was a violent, loveless household, and the two
 girls were packed off to boarding school in England while their parents moved
 first to South Africa, then Beirut, and - via America - to Tehran. There were no
 presents, letters or Christmas cards.
 Pizzey cannot recall ever being hugged or kissed as a child. She fought
 everyone and everything, and to describe her as "difficult" would be a limp
 understatement. The book she wrote to exorcise the bitter memories she entitled,
 Infernal Child.
 "It was called the biography of the decade," she recalled with pride. "It
 was one of the first books to break that middle-class silence. As long as you
 could blame housing or poverty and make everyone victims in child abuse, that
 was seen as acceptable to the English establishment. But when you said: 'Hang on
 a minute, English establishment figures are violent and they're beating up
 middle-class children going to middle-class boarding schools', that was
 completely unacceptable."
 She has never regretted these intimate revelations, although her family
 certainly did. "Apart from it being cathartic, it was the first time I had
 really analysed my mother's role in provoking my father: what she did that made
 him so angry, and why it was a violence-prone relationship."
 She now considers that it taught her "everything I knew, and everything I
 could give back to the mothers and children who came into the refuge at
 Chiswick. I only had to look at a child and I could tell you how that child was
 being bullied - tell you without even talking to him."
 On the countless occasions that Pizzey has described the founding of
 Chiswick Women's Refuge in 1972, she has usually attributed it to chance or
 coincidence. She had married, had two children and started up a small community
 centre; a playgroup "where lonely mothers could come with their children and
 meet each other." Its development into a full- blown refuge for battered women
 only happened, she says, because she began to encounter so many cases.
 But there's more to it than that.
 Pizzey had found a cause that was tailor-made to her own expertise. She who
 could label her parents as "violence-prone" (a phrase which was to cause a
 furore later on when she developed the theory into a full-scale book) should
 surely recognise that she herself is drama or crisis prone.
 And that there is an unfailing attraction for both the saviour and the saved
 in this relationship. That is why it repeats itself again and again in her life.
 When, in 1984 after 12 years "in the firing line" at Chiswick, she moved
 with her new husband Jeff Shapiro to Santa Fe to begin writing novels: "The
 moment I got there, I discovered that there was a woman in the next cabin with
 five children and a violent man. And I was back in business again. I ran a
 refuge for mothers and kids for seven years. I did paedophile cases and abuse
 And got shot at." She adds the last sentence with defiant pride.
 She then moved to the Cayman Islands and to Italy, and found things much the
 same. Not to the same degree, perhaps - "it's only in England and America that
 this is epidemic" - but sufficient to mobilise the Pizzey machine. "We've got a
 hotline in Siena, and a new house just opened in Milan, and one opening in
 Bologna. And there's a group that's just started out in the Cayman Islands. My
 life is opening refuges for mothers and children. But it only had to be a fight
 in this country. They made it a fight."
 And quite a fight it was. A fight made all the more intriguing by the nature
 of the enemy. District councils, environmental health, the social services -
 these you would expect to target the very individualistic operation Pizzey had
 set up. But they were not the villains of the peace as she sees it. The real
 enemy was the women's movement itself. And Pizzey does not indulge in any
 mealy-mouthed diplomacy in her recollections. She names names, and calls names
 as well. "Smelly lesbians," has been a past favourite.
 "It was so sad to see everything I had built up at Chiswick ruined. I had
 built up a unique therapeutic unit there, where it was the women who helped and
 healed each other, and not a string of professionals.
 "But I just didn't fit in with the political agenda. I believed in women
 working with women - but in co- operation with men. The first member of staff I
 appointed was a man.
 The feminists were outraged. But how can these mothers and children ever get
 to know good, gentle men if they have no positive role models?"
 And this wasn't her only lapse.
 "Back in the early days, in the collectives, I was a lone voice saying that
 Marx never did anything for women; there were no women in the Politburo; Russia
 was not the wonderful place they all thought and the Chinese communists had
 captured my mother, father and brother and kept them under house arrest for
 three years. 'You're just women with no world experience,' I said. They threw me
 They were finally to do the same at Chiswick. Pizzey's methods, though
 applauded, even revered, by the inmates of the refuge were too unorthodox to be
 palatable to the social services. She became tangibly involved with and affected
 by every case she dealt with. She was accused of hogging the limelight, of
 personalising things unnecessarily. Not only that, she had scandalised feminists
 and therapists alike with her contention that some women are addicted to
 violence. Her book Prone to Violence was published in 1982. She "is still paying
 for it", she says. So when an administrative excuse came, Pizzey was abruptly
 ousted from Chiswick.
 "I didn't make a fuss, because I felt the time had come to withdraw and
 begin another life."
 A life with her new husband Jeff Shapiro who was 20 years her junior.
 "I got married," she giggles, "and what made it really unforgivable to that
 lot was that I had actually married a man."
 Her connection with Chiswick lingers metaphorically, at least. It was one of
 the Chiswick mothers, Karen Rossiter, who suggested she start writing. "Put it
 all into novels, Erin," she told her, "that way everyone can enjoy it."
 So Pizzey did just that. She has published one a year for the last ten
 years, though she writes for only two hours a day. Kisses, the book she has
 returned to Britain to promote, concerns three women and the way in which they
 sustain and support each other throughout their separate relationships with men.
 It is romantic, easily dismissable as an "airport read", and she certainly
 breaks into some rapturous vocabulary describing it: "What really matters is
 We are all about love, the universe is about unconditional love. I used to
 say to my women in Chiswick, I might not like what you've done, but I love you,
 and that's what kept us all going."
 Pizzey lives alone now, in a tiny Tuscan village called San Giovanni d'Asso.
 Her marriage to Geoff Shapiro split up four years ago, but did so amicably, she
 says. "It wasn't really a marriage. It was more of a
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                                  The Observer
                            August 28, 1994, Sunday
LENGTH: 1520 words
BYLINE: Katharine Whitehorn
 SO Anita Roddick, they claim, is not Mother Teresa after all; not as green
 as she's cabbage-looking, it seems. We can now expect a spate of spiteful
 articles about her, worse than if she had never tried to be ecological at all,
 and far worse, I suspect, than if she had been a man. For the backlash against
 such a woman has more interesting elements in it than at first appears.
 The theory that the old king must die is familiar enough. The young lion
 must bring down the mangy and raging old beast, and assume control of the pride;
 the whizz-kid will topple the chairman; the ageing gunfighter hits the dust. In
 science it is a necessary process since, as Max Planck pointed out, no scientist
 ever convinces another about anything; the proponents of Theory B just have to
 wait till the proponents of Theory A drop off their twigs, and then take over
 their jobs. This is why Desmond Morris is still encouraged to bang on about
 man's emergence in the savannah, long after Alistair Hardy, Elaine Morgan, David
 Price, Richard Marsh and many others have produced far more cogent theories
 about our evolution at the water's edge.
 What happens to the old lioness, though, has been less well documented, if
 only because in the normal way they are more co-operative - lionesses will
 babysit while the mother goes off and earns, I mean catches, enough food for
 them all. But Anita Roddick may be just one more in a long line of ladies who
 have suffered from the phenomenon of ditching the founding mother.
 A visionary woman starts something - a firm, a charity, a movement - she is
 written up, interviewed and praised, possibly over-praised since everyone's
 astounded that it's a woman who has done such a thing. But as her outfit
 expands, takes on new people and is successful, she begins to seem the one
 person on whom all discontents centre, and after a time the people she has
 recruited, trained and inspired set to work to ease her out.
 Erin Pizzey started the first refuge for beaten-up wives; after a time she
 realised that some - a very few - were actually addicted to the adrenalin of
 rows and violence, and had to be treated accordingly. Her colleagues were
 outraged; they thought she was giving a handle to the 'they like it really'
 school; she left the Chiswick refuge and the country. Mrs Torrie founded Cruse,
 a self-help group where widows could mourn and become healed by one another. It
 got bigger, and imported empire-building men who decided it should cater to all
 the bereaved - a very different matter. Mrs Torrie might have been forgiven for
 laughing nastily when the re-jigged outfit got into financial difficulties; she
 didn't, but then she's a nice woman. I did.
 Eli Jansen dreamed up the idea of half-way houses for people coming out of
 mental homes. Her Richmond Fellowship is now a highly respected international
 organisation; but she has been in dispute for ages with colleagues who decided
 she was using the Fellowship for her own ends - and this is a woman that Monica
 Furlong in the Sixties described as a saint. I know several other outfits where
 the same thing is happening, and only one where the founding mother was actually
 embezzling the funds; even with Laura Ashley, it seems, there was a mounting
 growl of discontent, silenced in her case by her early death.
 Sometimes, I suppose, the founding mother, like any other pioneer, will
 resist necessary change, cling on to the original idea when those who run the
 thing know that, like a bicycle, it has to go forward or fall. One or two such
 women may indeed get too big for their boots. And sometimes there may be people
 who feel they have had to shoulder most of the work, while she gets all the
 glory - one reason why some women's outfits insist on being communal and
 collective almost to the point of chaos.
 Activists are only too aware of the Queen Bee phenomenon: the woman who is
 all for a woman having power - so long as the woman is her. She doesn't really
 want other women around, and doesn't promote them. At the same time, the chances
 are that any men who work under her have to turn her into a goddess to justify
 this shaming fact; it's a dangerous mixture. Norman St John Stevas (as he then
 was) spoke truer than he knew when he dubbed Mrs T 'the blessed Margaret'. And
 the sad thing is that, even if a woman tries her darndest to be a Worker, not a
 Queen - doesn't throw her weight about, doesn't suppress her sisters or seize
 the limelight or preen herself - she's apt to be accused of it anyway.
 We are sceptical of saints, too often sour about success; there's a
 vindictive streak in most of us that gets a kick out of seeing someone who's
 been praised to the skies come crashing down without a parachute. Even those who
 approved of Mrs Thatcher watched her downfall with an evil glee; we don't at all
 mind a great beauty finally having to count the wrinkles with the rest of us; no
 wonder the Lloyd's Names, in their suspect 'poverty', don't get the sympathy
 they think they deserve.  Secretly, we smirk at Humpty Dumpty's fall, but even
 more at Mrs Dumpty's: men, because she got above herself, up on that wall; and
 women - especially the ones who grew up when they couldn't, or thought they
 couldn't, aim at anything but being dutiful wives and mothers - because who does
 she think she is anyway?
 Seeing what can happen to these high-profile women gives one a good idea why
 so many, possibly no less shrewd or even ambitious, opt for the eminence grise
 position, as the power behind some grandiose male throne; it's certainly safer.
 But the more women decide not to stick their heads over the parapet, the more
 credence they give to the notion that women can't make it; the Anita Roddicks
 and Mrs Thatchers are better role models for girls with their four A-levels than
 Nancy Reagan - who ran her President far more ruthlessly than the
 much-criticised Hillary Clinton. Not forgetting Senator Nancy Kassebaum, who
 adapted Truman's phrase and said: 'If I can't stand the heat, I have to get back
 in the kitchen.'
 Anita Roddick, page 23
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                           Evening Standard (London)
                                 June 21, 1994
LENGTH: 1240 words
HEADLINE: The real reason I had to flee Britain
BYLINE: Erin Pizzey
 I HAVE never truthfully explained why I left England, and my Chiswick
 Women's Refuge in 1982. I did not leave England of my own free will. I was
 driven out by the virulence of the separatist feminists, whose efforts would
 have destroyed the lives of women and children in England. I am so glad they
 have not succeeded.
 Jill Tweedie was their icon and their methods were recognisably fascist.
 Every act was political. The personal, particularly, was political. From the
 early days of the Women's Movement, I pointed out that it was never a movement
 to deal with women's issues. I believed that women should be working for women
 in co-operation with men. For my beliefs I was reviled.  The feminists who have
 hurt me most, and who have, I think, caused most damage to women in general,
 were those in the media. They used their public voice, and used it recklessly.
 Many feminist women have attacked me for not wishing to ban men from our
 world, and to turn our sons into bewildered beings. But I would like to name a
 few I can never forgive. Irma Kirtz has belittled me in every way she could. Val
 Hennessy has also tormented me.
 It is hard to believe now in the saner Nineties just what a terrifying
 impact these mad chattering class women had on television and in newspapers.
 Jill Tweedie was one of the many viragoes that came to attack me. The difference
 between her and the others was that she came to attack me but also came to like
 me. We became friends.
 I had many dinners, far too many dinners with Jill and her chattering class
 friends. They were in powerful positions in the media. They formed the group
 Women in the Media. One of the women said she would have been President of Ford
 had she been a man. I pointed out that she was too stupid to be President of
 anything. Far better that she continues to teach her loony politics in her
 polytechnics. I left the group.
 I was jeered both in England and in America. My editor Peter Lavery didn't
 believe me when I warned him not to put my book Prone to Violence (which
 examined some women's attraction to violence) on the shelves early. I came back
 from America and hundreds of women were demonstrating outside The Savoy. All Men
 Are Rapists and Bastards, read the placards. Had they used the words Jew or
 Black they would have been arrested. The police elected to give me a bodyguard
 to accompany me for my book tour in 1983.
 I fared no better at the hands of American media feminists than those in
 England. I gave evidence to President Reagan's commission on Family Violence. My
 lengthy presentation resulted in the Commission's report quoting one sentence
 only, Erin Shapiro - Author was my byline.
 This unholy, violent, delinquent movement of feminism has caused havoc
 infamilies allll over the Western world. Two weekends ago I was the guest of
 honour at an International Judges Conference in Rome. It was a moving and
 historic moment. I am the mother of a movement devoted to saving the lives of
 women, children and men. Men get battered too.
 FOR far too long men have ignored this movement at their peril. Now, far too
 late, they are beginning to wake up and realise that they must take part in
 discussion of women's issues.
 If men do not, then the powerful feminists who are journalists and editors
 of today's women's magazines will be able to muffle all opposition.  Men will
 not be allowed to speak, just as I am no longer allowed to speak.
 Because the British feminist establishment has banished me and denied me
 freedom of speech I now let my novels tell my story. I no longer try to
 influence events.
 The price has been too high for me and for my health. I live in the Cayman
 Islands and summer in Tuscany where I am loved and respected. I still work for
 battered women because it is my cause. Believe you me, it is much needed work.
 I remember Jill Tweedie fondly, and her friends with contempt. But even Jill
 was wrong. I remember with amusement that, when the wall in Berlin came down, I
 was having dinner with Jill and her husband Alan. 'Now you can't be communist
 what are you going to do?' I said, teasing.
 'Go green,' she said.
 'That figures,' I replied.
 It was another pressure group, never seeing life as a harmonious place, but
 as a battlefield. Jill's early death was a blow for me. She was a sweet and
 wonderful person. Unfortunately the politics of bitterness reaps its rewards.
 Alan was rude about the Guardian editor, Peter Preston, about Linda Christmas,
 the writer, and even my friend Shirley Conran. She would not have wished this,
 but this was the legacy.
 Now that those nightmare years are over, I am not bitter, merely resigned to
 human jealousy and envy. There is a wonderful movement of women in their early
 thirties who do take responsibility for their relationships. Who refuse to be
 victimised by the so-called women's movement, which in fact wrecked women's
 hopes and lives. A sad 20 years of so much wasted effort.
GRAPHIC: Erin Pizzey and (right) the late Jill Tweedie: "She attacked me, but
 she also liked me and we became friends"
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                            The Independent (London)
                             May 10, 1994, Tuesday
LENGTH: 593 words
HEADLINE: Pizzey's refuge to close; World's first haven for battered women looks
 for 50,000 pounds to keep doors open
 THE WORLD'S first refuge for battered women may have to close in September
 because of a financial crisis.
 The haven in Chiswick, set up by Erin Pizzey, now a blockbusting novelist
 living in the Caribbean, needs pounds 50,000 unless it is to close after 23
 years of helping women and children.
 Sandra Horley, chief executive of Refuge, formerly Chiswick Family Rescue,
 said thousands of battered women sought help from the police each year in
 London. The refuge can accommodate up to 45 women and 120 children at a time.
 ''It's a hand-to-mouth existence. We are full to overflowing and we are
 having to refer many women who come to us. If we shut, thousands will be made
 homeless, or have to return to their abusive partners. They have nowhere else to
 go,'' she said.
 ''The closure would be an indictment of a society which refuses to put the
 subject on the political agenda. We must rid society of the 'it's only a
 domestic' mentality.''
 Ms Horley, a social psychologist and author, has worked with battered women
 for 17 years. ''I have seen an awful lot of pain and misery. The worst example
 was when a man took a hammer and chisel to his partner's face.''
 She fears the refuge might have to close because public grants are not high
 enough to maintain services. The charity offers legal and welfare advice, help
 with re-housing and runs Britain's only 24-hour domestic violence crisis line
 which receives around 10,000 calls each year.
 Its annual budget is pounds 525,000, of which pounds 255,000 comes from the
 London Boroughs Grants Unit, residents' rents and a housing corporation
 allowance. More than half has to be raised privately.
 The Princess of Wales, Helena Kennedy QC and the rock star Bruce Springsteen
 have all supported the charity.
 Ms Horley wants to see more official support. ''We used to survive on our
 grants, but they were frozen and when we added a fourth house the Grants Unit
 said they wouldn't be able to fund it.
 ''It costs pounds 19m a year of taxpayers' money to have the children at
 Refuge taken into care, whereas it only costs pounds 150,000 to keep them here.
 That's a saving of pounds 18.85m. So why no action? It doesn't make sense.''
 Gerald Oppenheim, the director of the London Boroughs Grants Unit, said
 despite Refuge being a top priority, a grant increase was impossible.
 ''We would love to be able to give more money to Refuge, but we just haven't
 got the resources,'' he said.
 ''London boroughs are under enormous financial strain at the moment and all
 the voluntary organisations we assist are basically on frozen grants.''
 For Victoria, a former Refuge resident who now lives in Shepherd's Bush, the
 charity was her only hope. For years her husband raped her, humiliated her and
 imprisoned her in their home.
 ''I used to sleep in the loft because I didn't want the children to hear him
 rape me. When he went out he would lock the doors, or if I took his children to
 school and was five minutes late getting back he would grab me by the hair and
 say: 'You slut, who have you had in the car?'
 Eventually she grabbed her daughter and fled to the Refuge. ''For the first
 time I felt safe.''
 Ms Horley said September was the deadline. ''We have to raise at least
 pounds 50,000 by then or we will have to close.
 ''If that happens it will be tragic. I would be devastated, not just because
 I have spent half my adult life working for these women, but also because I care
 very deeply for them and I want to carry on saving lives.''
 (Photographs omitted)

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                              Daily Mail (London)
                                 March 5, 1994
LENGTH: 1654 words
BYLINE: Lester Middlehurst.
 Erin Pizzey, who set up a refuge for battered women in 1971, was married for
 17 years to her first husband, Jack Pizzey, and for 13 years to her second
 husband, Jeff Shapiro. Erin is 55, lives in Tuscany, has two children, Amos, 26,
 and Cleo, 32, seven foster children and three grandchildren. She talks to LESTER
 Who was your first boyfriend?
 His name was Michael Mowberly. We were 15 and our parents were abroad. I was
 at a convent and he was at Sherbourne Boys School, Dorset, and we used to spend
 our weekends in the woods with the nuns trying to find us.
 Do you remember your first kiss?
 It was with Michael behind the bike sheds and I thought it was quite
 disgusting. I wasn't expecting it so I let out a loud shriek and hit him.
 When were you first broken hearted?
 When I was 15. I was going out with a boy called Philip. We had been to
 various hunt balls together and then he fell in love with a girl called Vanessa.
 I remember her showing me a letter she had from him at school. I cried and I
 swore I would never give my heart to another man.
 How did you find out about the facts of life?
 From Peter Rabbit, the school rabbit, who gave a very vivid demonstration of
 what happened to my rabbit, Lady. At that time my parents were under house
 arrest by the Communists in China and I didn't see them for three and a half
 years so they weren't there to tell me. Matron made a vague stab at saying
 something about periods and that was about it.
 Did you discuss sex with your children?
 Yes, when they asked it meant they were ready to hear. I promised my
 grandchildren that if ever they wanted to ask any questions they could, whatever
 the situation. So my six-year-old grandson Keita waited until the middle of a
 dinner party before saying 'Granny, how do you make babies?'.  After several
 brandy and sodas, I finished explaining, much to the horror of my guests.  At
 what age did you have your first sexual experience?
 When I was 18. It was a man I had known for a long time. He went away, we
 met up again in London and it was a foregone conclusion that we would go to bed.
 I loved it and thought afterwards 'Reverend Mother was wrong!'
 What is the worst chat up line you have ever heard?
 Men have to have it all the time. This was said to me in my sitting room by
 a man trying to seduce me. I put him in the guest bedroom.
 Could you forgive your partner if he was unfaithful?
 Yes, because I don't have a jealous bone in my body. I had a lover once and
 he was involved with three of us at the same time.
 Have you ever had a one-night stand?
 Twice and I hated it. I was drunk both times and I now know that drunken
 one-night stands don't suit me. I regretted both afterwards but I'm glad I had
 the experience.
 Have you ever watched a pornographic film?
 When I was about 30. After a dinner party I thought the host was going to
 show holiday movies. When the lights went down I soon realised the truth. I
 laughed so hard they had to turn it off.
 How often do you think about sex?
 Seven days a week because I'm writing about it all the time.
 Do you think love-making improves with age?
 Definitely. I was 55 on February 15 and I'm really poised to have fun. I
 still think sex is the greatest recreation - much better than jogging. The older
 you get, the more confident you become. You are not afraid to ask for what you
 What turns you on about a man?
 His sense of humour.
 What turns you off about a man?
 Men who leave their hair in the basin.
 Do you think men are more promiscuous than women?
 Yes, but that's because they have been genetically programmed to be. They
 have all that testosterone whizzing about.
 Do you think prostitution should be legalised?
 Yes, because I think prostitution is an honourable profession. I think they
 fulfil a useful need in society. I much preferred the prostitutes I had in my
 refuge to most of the married women I knew outside.
 What is the most erotic film you have ever seen?
 Hiroshima Mon Amour.
 What is the most erotic book you have ever read?
 My first novel, The Watershed.
 What is the most unusual place you have made love in?
 I can't think of anywhere I haven't done it, apart from in the back of a
 car. I suppose in the sea in Greece was the most unusual.
 What do men find most attractive about you?
 My sense of humour and my cooking.
 Would you ever pose naked for a magazine?
 Not with the current state of my stomach. But I have no moral objections.
 Who, in the public eye, do you think has sex appeal?
 Prince Charles, Paul Newman, Sophia Loren and Gina Lollobrigida.
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                             The Guardian (London)
                                October 15, 1993
LENGTH: 963 words
 FROM the end of this month, at a cinema near you, is something that you
 really do not want to see - a real life horror film.  Sandwiched between the
 girl fellating her Flake in the bathtub and another wacky banking ad is a film
 that should make your blood run cold. Don't Stand For It is a 90-second
 commercial about domestic violence and it will be showing nationally for three
 months from October 29.
 The film, made by Penny Gould, was not commissioned, no one was paid to work
 on it and the Home Office covered the pounds 18,000 distribution costs. It is an
 incredibly powerful piece of work that uses horrific pictures of battered women
 alongside typical quotes from them, such as: "I'll just give him one more
 chance." To counter this, the facts also appear on the screen. Every year 100
 women in the UK are murdered by their partners. On average, a woman will have
 been assaulted 35 times before she goes to the police. Forty per cent of all
 murders occur in domestic situations. As image after image of bruised, burnt,
 cut bodies appear, Lyle Lovett sings Stand By Your Man. The project was fully
 supported by Tammy Wynette, who wrote the song, although no longer controls the
 The aim of the film is twofold: it offers a help line number to women who
 are trapped in violent relationships but, just as importantly, seeks to give a
 very clear message to men and women that violence is unacceptable. Of course,
 not everyone will want to be reminded of what goes on behind closed doors.
 Domestic violence for a very long time has hardly been a sexy media issue.
 Like rape and hysterectomies, it is somehow perceived as worthy and
 depressing, "a women's issue", which translates as "a women's problem". Battered
 woman are still interviewed with anthropological zeal, as though they were
 another species.  Special psychological syndromes are invented to explain their
 passivity, and why, on average, women will put up with seven years of abuse
 before they go to an outside agency. The Stockholm Syndrome was originally
 identified in hostages who became emotionally entwined with their captors and is
 now thought to be applicable to some women in this situation.
 In some ways, though, we are all responsible for neglecting this problem.
 Part of the progress that feminism has made over the last few years has been a
 move away from anything tinged with a boringly politically correct agenda. Now,
 as we are told repeatedly, girls just want to have fun. This is because many
 women, and I count myself among them, got tired of the continual representations
 of women as men's victims. It is all so much more exciting to think about the
 arousing power play of an S & M encounter than to think about the power play of
 a man pushing his wife's face into a boiling chip pan.
 While we are busy celebrating images of powerful women, the stills in Don't
 Stand For It remind us all too graphically of what being powerless actually
 looks like. Whether that powerlessness is psychological or financial or both, it
 looks like a woman with her nose knocked across her face. It looks like hell on
 earth. It looks shameful.
 So if we are ashamed of - though I hate the phrase - "battered women"
 because we perceive them to be the ultimate victims, it is really not
 surprising. Do you remember Erin Pizzey, who founded the first women's refuge in
 this country, coming up with the appalling theory that some women who grow up
 with violence just get addicted to it?
 Yet, what I see in this film is at last a way of moving the issues back into
 the mainstream. Domestic violence has surfaced in soap operas like Brookside and
 Roseanne. The case of Sara Thornton and the release of Kiranjit Ahluwalia has
 have provoked discussion about whether long-term physical abuse can legally
 constitute provocation. This month, both Elle and Vanity Fair carry domestic
 violence stories although, of course, Vanity Fair doesn't advertise its story as
 such. You may remember the case of John Wayne Bobbit's penis, hacked off by his
 wife and thrown out of a car window. This case which, according to Vanity Fair,
 "tapped into the core of the female zeitgeist" now - surprise, surprise -
 reveals a long and familiar story of abuse. Bobbit had repeatedly beaten and
 raped his wife. Her vigilante justice may have turned her into a hero for some.
 Camille Paglia's response was: "It's a wake-up call. It has to send a chill
 through every man in the world."
 However, let's be clear: these are not cries of revolution, but desperation.
 These may be the cases making headlines but they are not typical. They are the
 exception to the rule that it is men who murder and mutilate the women they live
 with. In London alone, the number of reported attacks has risen from 5,130 in
 1990 to 9,800. Scotland Yard says this figure represents "a tiny tip of the
 iceberg". Last year, over 100,000 women used a range of Women Aid services.
 That's why I didn't laugh at comedian Jim Davidson's explanation for his
 ex-wife's two black eyes: "Pushing her away from me, I caught her in the eye
 with my thumb, bruising her and dislocating my thumb . . . A few days later she
 asked me to throw her the keys . . . I flung them over and the bunch hit her in
 the other eye."
 Domestic violence has too long been considered a private issue. Now it is,
 necessarily, being made a public one. This is not a problem that was sorted out
 in the seventies, this is not some loony feminist cause, this is not just part
 of what happens in relationships. It is a crime.
 While Neighbourhood Watch schemes have been concerned with protecting the
 contents of homes rather than the people in them, isn't it about time we started
 caring as much about the violation of women as the theft of a few videos?

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                   Copyright 1993 Guardian Newspapers Limited
                                  The Observer
                                 March 28 1993
LENGTH: 718 words
HEADLINE: Refuges forced to turn women away: Grants cut as domestic violence
 figures soar
 HELP FOR battered women is under threat across Britain as the numbers of
 women and children fleeing abuse reach unprecedented levels.
 Attacks by men on their wives or partners now account for one in four of all
 violent crimes. In Greater London alone, reported assaults have almost doubled
 in the past two years. Thirty thousand women sought help in refuges last year,
 but hundreds more had to be turned away because of a lack of funds. Many of
 Britain's 270 refuges are now at crisis point as hard-pressed local authorities
 slash their grants.

 A survey by the Women's Aid Federation, which represents the vast majority
 of refuges, reveals that council cutbacks over the past two years have left safe
 houses with an average annual grant of between pounds 7,000 and pounds 8,000,
 with the only other income coming from residents' housing benefit cheques and
 donations from local charities.
 'The position is desperate,' said spokeswoman Caroline McKinley. 'Refuges
 usually only have one paid counsellor, and most are kept going by volunteers.
 Without their commitment, we would only have a handful of refuges left in this
 The extent of the crisis is highlighted by the fate of Britain's first
 women's refuge, Chiswick Family Rescue, set up in 1971 by Erin Pizzey. Its
 patron is the Princess of Wales, who was guest of honour when it was relaunched
 last week under the new name of Refuge.
 It is by far Britain's highest-profile refuge service, running four houses
 which take in 50 women and 120 children a year. But dwindling funds from the
 London boroughs have forced the centre to cut staff from 21 to nine in the past
 two years. Unless pounds 100,000 is found by the summer, Refuge's nursery
 services and its 24-hour national crisis line will close.
 'It is ironic that concern over domestic violence is now great enough to
 feature on our most popular television programmes, yet we are facing our worst
 crisis in 20 years,' said Refuge director Sandra Horley. Domestic violence was
 highlighted last week in the prime-time soap operas EastEnders and Brookside.
 'Without our crisis line, some women won't get heard when the need is
 greatest. Some may even die as a result,' said Ms Horley.
 Other counselling and advice groups for battered women also face the axe. At
 the Refuge launch, Princess Diana gave her public support to Kiranjit Ahluwalia,
 who killed her husband after 10 years of abuse and was recently released from
 jail on appeal.
 Yet Southall Black Sisters, which ran the campaign for her release, has had
 to drop its support services and limit itself to finding refuges for battered
 women. The three paid staff, who advise 1,500 Asian women a year from all over
 Britain, now fear they may lose their core funding in 1994.
 The most recent Home Office figures reveal that domestic violence incidents
 more than doubled from 12,160 to 26,555 between 1985 and 1989. In London,
 reported attacks on women have risen from 5,130 in 1990 to 9,800 last year, a
 figure described by Scotland Yard's domestic violence unit as 'the tiny tip of
 the iceberg'.
 The Police Federation and the Association of Directors of Social Services
 have both now warned that more refuge spaces are urgently needed. Last week the
 Tory-dominated Home Affairs Select Committee added its weight by urging Home
 Secretary Kenneth Clarke to establish a national network of women's refuges as
 an urgent priority.
 The last parliamentary report into domestic violence, 20 years ago, called
 for 800 refuges to be set up nationwide. Sandra Horley said women's aid
 organisations now hope that public concern will produce greater results.
 'The Canadian Government has allocated dollars 136 million to contain
 domestic violence. In Britain, we also have to learn that domestic violence lies
 at the root of many of our social problems, and we urgently need a co-ordinated
 strategy with more refuges and better public education to control it.'
 A Home Office spokeswoman said the select committee's recommendations would
 be 'carefully considered'. She emphasised that most urban police forces now have
 domestic violence units and that the Government spends pounds 7.3m a year
 funding victim support schemes for all victims of crime.
 Refuge's 24-hour helpline is on 081-995 4430.
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                     Copyright 1993 Telegraph Group Limited
                              The Daily Telegraph
                            March 23, 1993, Tuesday
LENGTH: 355 words
HEADLINE: Princess tells killer to write book for victims of violence
BYLINE: By Jonathan Petre
A WOMAN who burned to death her violent and domineering husband was told by
 the Princess of Wales yesterday to write a book about her experiences. She told
 Kiranjit Ahluwalia, who served more than three years of a life sentence for
 murder before a judge accepted her plea of manslaughter, that her story would
 help other women. The two met at the Chiswick Family Rescue, founded in 1971 and
 run by Erin Pizzey, author of the book Prone to Violence. Yesterday's ceremony
 was held to mark the centre's name change to Refuge. Mrs Ahluwalia, 37, a Sikh
 mother of two, doused her husband in petrol and set him alight after enduring 10
 years of violence. She was freed from jail last September after the Court of
 Appeal accepted that she was suffering from diminished responsibility. Her case
 has prompted calls for a change in the law to provide a defence for women who
 murder violent husbands. Mrs Ahluwalia said the Princess's involvement was very
 important in ensuring that the public and the police took the problem of
 domestic violence more seriously. She said she had wanted to write to the
 Princess during her sentence, but feared her English was inadequate. "She told
 me I should have written because she always got her letters. She told me I
 should write a book because my case was already helping a lot of other women."
 The Princess last week spent two hours at a therapy session in a hostel run by
 Refuge, during which one woman became distressed almost to the point of
 hysteria.  "The woman wanted a knife so that she could kill her husband," said
 Mrs Sandra Horley, director of Refuge. The session was potentially so disturbing
 that the Princess was later invited to attend a de-briefing. Last year she made
 a private donation to the charity, which faces closure if it does not raise more
 money. The organisation has four houses in London and offers accommodation and
 counselling to more than 400 women and children every year. The Prince of Wales
 urged architects to follow the example of the Vintners Place, a 79 million
 neo-classical development next to Southwark Bridge in London, when he opened it
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                    Copyright 1993 Newspaper Publishing PLC
                            The Independent (London)
                            March 23, 1993, Tuesday
LENGTH: 515 words
HEADLINE: Refuge offers lifeline for abused women Refuge back to highlight
 domestic abuse
 THE STATISTICS make uncomfortable reading. Men abusing their wives or
 partners accounts for one quarter of all violent crime. One in four of those
 women are battered during pregnancy, also putting at risk the unborn child.
 The stories behind the statistics are even more disturbing. One husband took
 a hammer and chisel to his wife's face. She needed 250 stitches. Another poured
 petrol over his wife's head and set her alight, maiming her for life.
 Another went to extreme lengths to discover where his partner had sought
 refuge. He lay in wait and attacked her in the road outside, smashing her nose
 and cracking her skull.
 And the stories are not just of physical abuse. One man learning that his
 partner had won a university scholarship to study literature built a bonfire of
 her treasured collection of first editions. In doing so he sapped her will to
 further her education. Such accounts are not uncommon. Over 50,000 women a year
 seek help from the police in the London area alone.
 It was in recognition of the scale and ferocity of domestic violence in
 society that yesterday brought together an unlikely alliance of the Princess of
 Wales, Ruby Wax, the comedienne, and Kiranjit Alhuwalia, who killed her husband
 after suffering 10 years of extreme violence. They were joined by judges,
 police, lawyers and others to celebrate the relaunch of the world's first refuge
 for battered women and their children.
 Twenty-two years after Chiswick Family Rescue was founded by Erin Pizzey, it
 is now to be known simply as Refuge to reflect its wider role in research,
 lobbying for change in policy and law, its 24-hour national crisis line and
 provision of refuge for up to 50 women and 120 children in four homes.
 The relaunch came on the eve of the publication of a report by the Home
 Affairs select committee of MPs, which is widely expected to recommend changes
 in the law governing domestic violence and better provision for those fleeing
 The committee last examined domestic violence in 1975 and recommended the
 setting up of 800 refuges for women around the country.
 Eighteen years on there are just 200 and for those at Refuge - held up as a
 model in the fight against domestic violence world-wide - it is a bitter irony
 that it is constantly fighting for survival. Lack of funds means that its
 nursery provision is currently under threat.
 Yesterday, Sandra Horley, a social psychologist and director of Refuge,
 said: ''Domestic violence is a cancer that eats at the core of our society, our
 community and our family life. It touches many aspects of our lives. It lies at
 the root of many of our social problems.''
 She called for a three-pronged attack - a co-ordinated policy within the
 criminal justice system of arrest and prosecution of all abusers; education and
 training programmes in school and the workplace; and better services and funding
 to help women and their families leave violence.
 Refuge must wait until the publication of today's report to see if its
 demands have the backing of MPs.
 (Photograph omitted)

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                       Copyright Telegraph Group Limited
                              The Daily Telegraph
                            February 7, 1993, Sunday
LENGTH: 986 words
HEADLINE: Review: Opportunity knocks What needs to be done, and who is qualified
 to do it? Some views from those in the front line
David Thomas, former editor of Punch and author of Not Guilty - In Defence of
 the Modern Man, to be published this week: "The Equal Opportunities Commission
 has got to be more even-handed. My feeling is that for the past couple of
 decades we have thought of women's issues as a principal area for the
 Commission, but what about men? "Just as women are demanding an end to
 discrimination in professional life, men should be asking about ending
 discrimination in family life. Just as women are getting a raw deal in the
 boardroom, men are getting a raw deal in the divorce courts. Just as female rape
 victims have been made to suffer twice over, once by the attacker and then by
 the legal system, the same is now happening to men who report victimisation at
 the hands of their female partners. "I'm only in favour of the EOC if it takes a
 genuinely even-handed look at areas where men and women are having a hard time,
 but if it becomes another wing of politically correct doctrinaire politics, then
 the sooner it's scrapped the better." " Whoever is selected as the new head
 should not have any burning commitment to the advancement of their own gender,
 male or female. Feminists have no interest whatsoever in any concept of fair
 treatment, but in my experience an average well-balanced secure woman is a man's
 best ally, and is best able to see a man's perspective." His own choice? "Erin
 Pizzey [campaigner for battered women]. She's a woman who has a very clear
 understanding both of how awful life can be to women, and how awful women can be
 to men." Mrs Jane Grant, who runs the National Association of Women's group, the
 umbrella for 230 women's organisations representing 5.5 million women: "I
 admired Joanna Foster for her brave and strong stand for women, and hope a woman
 of similar strength and courage will be appointed. I hope, too, that she would
 have the interests of all women at heart and not just the high-fliers." Esther
 Rantzen, presenter of BBC's That's Life and director of Childline: "I think and
 hope I'm right in believing that middle-class white women have got quite good at
 fighting unfair treatment, but I do worry about ethnic communities and Muslim
 women - I have been told of cases of isolation and virtual imprisonment. "I
 think that the middle-aged woman is at a disadvantage compared with her male
 contemporary, who is regarded as in his prime. A Cabinet Minister of 50 is
 considered young, but a woman television presenter of 50 is considered a bit
 over the hill. TV executives should make sure that among their newsreaders, for
 example, there should be women who not only are 60 but who look 60. " But my
 principal fear is that with all this battle between the genders, children are
 getting lost. I have listened to children who say no one has any time to listen
 to them, their parents are so tired and are working so hard they are too
 exhausted to listen. It might be time to say, 'Where is the Equal Opportunities
 Commission for children?' " Lady Brittan, who sits on the board of the EOC, and
 is wife of EEC Commissioner Sir Leon Brittan: "If I were looking at the issues
 for the EOC to pursue, I would look at law-enforcement and the correlation
 between EEC law and British law and how to build on it. I would also look at the
 area of family-friendly policy and the opportunities for flexi-working for men
 and women, and also the mass of women on low pay. Maybe there is some work to be
 done to help men in traditional women's areas." Julie Burchill, author and
 columnist: "I think the EOC really needs to be there. It is a very good place
 for people to complain to; it acts like an ombudsman for women. But its work
 should remain about people at work. I think that women who stay at home are
 lazy. I don't think the EOC should concern itself with them; they should be
 acting for women in the workplace. "When you stay at home you opt out of the
 common wealth of the country. If women are going to be housewives and then say
 they are badly treated, they should go out and get a job. I have no sympathy
 with housewives. I think the present head of the EOC, Joanna Foster, has been
 very good. She seems tremendously sensible. They will have to get someone
 level-headed like her, and not too flashy. If they go for someone flashy, it
 won't do any good and it would give the Commission a bad name." Mrs Yve Newbold,
 company secretary of Hanson plc: "I would like to see the EOC raise its profile
 in different directions. Although they may well say they had tried, I would like
 them to do more about the rights of part-time workers. You need a woman of
 courage for this post, free from all encumbrances and political platforms, and
 she must be active." Elizabeth Symons, general secretary of the Association of
 First Division Civil Servants: "There is an alarming issue about women's pay at
 all levels. There has always been a problem of equal pay for equal value, but
 what I think is a real problem is that pay is now being used in relation to
 performance: what is happening is that companies are relating performance to
 long hours and to perceived time spent in the office and away from home. This is
 affecting women, however efficient and organised they are, and is a new gap in
 pay that wasn't there before. "But I think all the problems about women failing
 to reach the top in business and industry are as bad as they have always been.
 The situation has barely improved. Take graduate women: 30 per cent never have
 children, yet only three per cent of graduate men never have children. It shows
 that women have to make life choices that men never have to make." Dame
 Josephine Barnes, former consultant obstetrician and gynaecologist: "I think the
 EOC does a very good job. They must appoint someone who is not a virulent
 feminist, someone with an impartial view. I would not object to a man, as long
 as he is fair-minded; some male lawyers and judges are very good."
 DISSOLUTION(55%); February 7, 1993
                              244 of 278 DOCUMENTS
                     Copyright 1992 The Daily Telegraph plc
                              The Daily Telegraph
                           August 29, 1992, Saturday
LENGTH: 917 words
HEADLINE: Thirty-six strokes of the cane
Old School Ties by Tim Devlin and Hywel Williams Sinclair-Stevenson, 17.99
 IN MAY 1991 Tim Devlin and Hywel Williams sent out a questionnaire to some 3,000
 men and women known to the public to inquire what schools they had been to and
 how they had fared. The reason? "Because only in England can it really matter
 where one went to school." Matter to whom? They do not say. I would think it
 mattered to only a few. Of the 3,000 canvassed, just over half replied. Yet this
 has not dissuaded the authors from devoting 160 pages to listing alphabetically
 the names of all 3,000 and the 1,300 schools they attended. This was a terrible
 waste of effort and paper. Seeing the name of Alan Bennett, I looked forward to
 some caustic reminiscences from the author of "Forty Years On", while the
 inclusion of Humphrey Lyttelton led me to hope that he might have something to
 say about the jazz trio in which he and I and Mike Farebrother played in Eton
 School Hall on Sunday afternoons. But neither replied to the questionnaire. Of
 those who did there are far too many entries of only a line or two, reminding me
 of that send-up The New Yorker runs under the heading "Most Fascinating News
 Story of the Week: The Following Item is Reprinted in Its Entirety": The Roman
 Catholic Bishop Emeritus of Manchester Grammar, Leeds, the Right Reverend Gordon
 Wheeler, still remembers vividly a school trip to Paris where on Easter Day 1926
 he attended High Mass in Notre Dame Cathedral.
 Well, bully for him. There are other entries, too, which, if one were to
 convert from past to present and employ a little sub-editing, would become
 parodies of that section of the prep-school mag which gives news of those who
 have moved on: At Westminster Dominick Harrod is editing The Elizabethan which
 he says has given him a taste of journalism, while at Eton David Jessel has been
 co-editing the Eton Chronicle. From Trowbridge High School Bel Mooney tells us
 that she has just won the Wiltshire/Somerset Schools Debate, the first time ever
 the school has reached the final! (Well done, Bel!) The entries are divided into
 15 categories. Those I enjoyed most belonged to my own or allied professions
 (Broadcasting and Journalism, Art and Design, Acting, Literature and Politics);
 while I found mostly dull those representing Armed Services, Business, Public
 Life, Religion and Science, many of whose practitioners were unknown to me. On
 the whole, the longer the entry, the more interesting the reminiscence. Top
 marks, therefore, to Nigel Nicolson, Rupert Hambro, John Rae, Raymond Briggs,
 Zerbanoo Gifford, Mary Wesley, Betty Kenward, A. N. Wilson and Gillian Tindall
 for their vivid schoolday reporting.  At Eton Nigel Nicolson (and at Rugby A. N.
 Wilson) experienced sex with fellow pupils.  Nobody made advances to Andrew
 Devonshire because, he thinks, he was then so dirty (for a year I sat between
 him and the late John Egremont, and which of the three of us was the grubbiest
 it would be hard to tell). At his convent school Paul Raymond, of striptease
 fame, was grateful for being taught manners ("I'm a very polite man deep down
 inside, and this is from the nuns"). At Westminster Anthony Howard was warned
 that if he did not pull himself together he would end up editing the New
 Statesman, which he did.  David Cope, now headmaster of Marlborough, claims when
 at Winchester to have been given thirty-six strokes of the cane on nine separate
 occasions - roughly the equivalent of what happened to drunken seamen in Queen
 Victoria's reign. A report at St Francis Xavier's College on the boy who was to
 become Mr Justice Caulfield thought he should take more trouble to improve his
 speech - advice he might have heeded before suggesting a link between Mary
 Archer's fragrance and her husband's questioned fidelity. At Manchester Grammar
 School Alan Garner remembered a boy who thought he was a train ("He used to go
 round with his feet shuffling and arms outstretched and to get him into a
 classroom took several minutes"). At Downside Rupert Allason MP invented an
 A-level geography project on Wells so that he could go to the cinema there twice
 a week. At a Sherborne convent Erin Pizzey was told by a girl that her father
 had raped her, whereupon the nuns expelled her. Ken Livingstone at Tulse Hill
 Comprehensive favoured hanging and opposed pre-marital sex, "though I was
 prepared to make an exception in my own case". He thought all politicians were
 liars and, while refusing to enlist in the Boy Scouts, was happy to join a gang
 to throw stones at them. Bruce Dickinson was expelled from Oundle "for pissing
 in the headmaster's dinner" (one wonders how?). The Prince of Wales did not
 answer the questionnaire but, say the authors, "his public pronouncements are
 inescapably marked by the holistic, neo-Christian communal moralism which was
 Kurt Hahn's legacy to Gordonstoun school." What conclusions are reached from the
 1,500-odd entries? Mostly truisms: the influence of a single, dedicated teacher
 can be instrumental in forwarding a pupil's development; every pupil needs to
 feel he or she is special; those who shine most at school are seldom heard of
 again; those denied a proper secondary education regret it ever afterwards;
 sport at state schools is in decline, and almost half of the famous 3,000 come
 from that two per cent of children who went to independent or public schools.
 There are plenty of good nuggets among the dross, but did it really require 472
 pages to remind us of all that?
LOAD-DATE: September 1, 1992
                              245 of 278 DOCUMENTS
                   Copyright 1992 Associated Newspapers Ltd.
                           Evening Standard (London)
                             July 14, 1992, Tuesday
LENGTH: 240 words
HEADLINE: Cash crisis hits nursery for children of battered women
 BRITAIN'S first refuge for battered women will have to close its nursery
 unless it receives more funding.
 Chiswick Family Rescue, founded by authoress Erin Pizzey, in 1972, needs
 500,000 a year to run its five refuges which can accommodate 50 women and 120
 children but is limping along on 150,000.
 Director Sandra Horley said that unless more cash was forthcoming the
 nursery, the only one in Britain catering for the traumatised children of
 battered women, would have to shut.
 The crisis was revealed as a new report stressed the need for more money,
 housing and support for victims of domestic violence. Princess Anne was
 attending the launch of the study, which was sponsored by the government-funded
 Victim Support Scheme.
LOAD-DATE: November 4, 1993
                              254 of 278 DOCUMENTS
                     Copyright 1991 The Daily Telegraph plc
                              The Daily Telegraph
                              July 5, 1991, Friday
LENGTH: 812 words
HEADLINE: Where good women go after bad
WHEN Michael Shorey was convicted of the murder of his girlfriend Elaine
 Forsyth and her flatmate Patricia Morrison, parents all over the country must
 have reflected: "What's a nice girl like that getting involved with a chap like
 him?" Shorey, aged 35, born in Barbados, had a history of beating women and in
 1976 was convicted of scalding a nine-month-old baby. His proffered alibi,
 during the trial, was that he was in bed with an actress - who had a history of
 drug abuse - at the time. Elaine's relationship with Michael Shorey was no
 whirlwind romance: they had been together for several years.  At 31, she was
 mature enough to make her own decisions. She was not a gullible teenager dazzled
 by rough trade. Yet rough trade Shorey turned out to be, despite his poor
 mother's attempts to bring him up in her own church-going habits.  Yet the truth
 is that from time immemorial, nice girls have been attracted to bad hats. Mafia
 gangsters are seldom short of adoring women, as the true-story movie Goodfellas
 illustrates. Jailbirds, IRA terrorists, drug abusers, brutally violent men not
 only attract women, but attract women of intelligence, judgment and well-bred
 Erin Pizzey, who did so much to help battered wives, finally despaired of
 the pattern of good women returning to, and sometimes seeking out, bad men. In
 some cases - though not in this one, apparently - there is a pathological
 source; women with violent fathers unconsciously seek violent lovers. In other
 cases, it is hard to avoid the conclusion that rough and violent men hold a
 perverse glamour for women who have had a protected upbringing. There might be a
 primitive element - in a twisted way - of biological programming involved.
 Physical strength and power in the male has been a genetic source of attraction
 to the female. Many of the warrior heroes of the past who have embodied
 masculine courage - think of the Vikings - have also been plunderers and
 rapists. Until quite recently, in some tribal societies, the fellow who could
 inflict most damage on the enemy also got the most girls.
The feminist writer Rosalind Miles, in a recent study of male behaviour,
 asserts that all men are inherently violent, because there is a fine line
 between masculinity and brutality.
Men who behave violently are merely crossing that line, but the brutality
 also carried with it the primitive masculinity. It is an unproven and unprovable
 theory. But if history means anything, it must contain a seed of plausibility.
 Civilisation, and embourgeoisement, have sought to repress and restrain violence
 in men - and women, where it exists.
 Physical prowess, and its violent overdrive, is no longer socially useful:
 we do not need Vikings any more, or men whose aggressions serve to cut down
 forests or scale the North-West frontier. We now need men and women with
 brainpower, inventive ideas, flexibility.
We have thus invented the "new man" - the man who is as happy to change a
 nappy as to do the shopping. Many men have taken this message to heart, and are
 sincerely trying to be "the new man". Yet, paradoxically, this new man is now
 sometimes pronounced "boring", as "wimpish" or "tame tabbies" - by women. The
 high visibility of gentle, kindly and well-meaning homosexual men may add to the
 confusing picture. The "bad hat" rogue male may still appeal to feminine
 unconscious as a contrasting "real man" figure. And there is also the old
 tradition, speaking generally, of reacting against parental wishes. As Jane
 Austen observed, many a girl runs off with someone deliberately to disoblige her
Teetotal parents produce hard-drinking offspring; High Tories beget wild-eyed
 Trotskyist sons and daughters; devout church-goers father campaigning athiests.
 It works the other way, too; John Major, child of circus folks, reacted by
 becoming an accountant. Many parents watch helplessly as their children team up
 with painfully unsuitable partners. There are few parental sanctions today which
 can actively halt the process.
 We have all watched parents sit tight and just pray that the passion passes.
 In many cases - perhaps in the majority - the unwise relationship comes to an
 end, and the erring son or, more often, daughter returns to the fold after a
 stormy couple of years. Tragically, for the murdered girls in this case, it
 ended differently. Can anything be done to avert the "bad hat syndrome" and
 discourage young women from such relationships?  One might ask: can anything be
 done to remould human nature and its puzzling sexual taste? Not, perhaps, a lot.
 For a complex constellation of reasons, villains can be beguiling - and as
 there are more male villains, more women are at risk of being so beguiled. As
 Yeats wrote more than half a century ago: "It's certain that fine women eat/A
 crazy salad with their meat/Whereby the horn of plenty is undone."
LOAD-DATE: July 6, 1991
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                    Copyright 1990 Times Newspapers Limited
                                The Sunday Times
                            October 28, 1990, Sunday
SECTION: Features
LENGTH: 1169 words
HEADLINE: A downward spiral to fame
BYLINE: Humphrey Carpenter
Paul Scott: A Life by Hilary Spurling, Hutchinson Pounds 18.99 pp438
Literary biography falls, roughly speaking, into two camps. There are the
 lives whose chief function is to illuminate their subject's own writings, and
 those which deserve to be read in their own right, as entertainment,
 instruction, or warning. Hilary Spurling's gripping and skilful life of Paul
 Scott is in the second category, with the emphasis very much on a warning: don't
 read this book if you are thinking of becoming a full-time, professional
 novelist. Or rather, do, and you'll probably change your mind.
Scott was born in 1920 into an extraordinarily stuffy segment of English
 life, which later provided him with material for The Jewel in the Crown and his
 other Raj novels. His father and most of his close relatives were commercial
 artists he had two horse-painter cousins called Gilbert and George and the
 family was expert at moving in on each other and having dreadful quarrels.
 Paul's own later life mirrored this. When she was an old woman, his widowed
 mother took up residence with Paul, his wife and children, and there followed a
 passage of arms which makes the average having-mum-to-live-with-us situation
 seem as nothing. This is one of the many domestic dramas which Spurling narrates
 with deft understatement: ''The house rang in the mornings with thumping and
 banging as Frances (Scott's mother) turned out her room, relieving her feelings
 with such energy that she chipped the paint all round the skirting board, dented
 the vacuum cleaner and seriously damaged her bedstead.''
Paul left school at 14 and became an office boy to a London accountant,
 feeling, like Hari Kumar in the Raj Quartet, that he was a displaced person,
 denied the world that ought to have been his. He wanted to be a poet, and he
 made friends with an unworldly young literary couple, Ruth and Clive Sansom, who
 seemed like a throwback to the Georgians they thought Eliot was exciting but
 risque and, though this was the mid-1930s, had scarcely heard of Auden. Spurling
 is very good at depicting their innocent milieu and the particular tinge of the
 triangular friendship.
Meanwhile, Paul, neat, dark and handsome, discovered he was homosexual and
 had an affair with an estate agent called Gerald. Spurling narrates this in so
 offhand a fashion that you wonder whether she has noticed it, but gradually
 Scott's homosexuality comes to the fore as a major theme in the book (it is an
 excellent biographical technique not to blare out an important point like this,
 but let it slowly establish itself).
His homosexuality got him into trouble almost as soon as he was drafted into
 the army at the start of the second world war and, on the rebound from scandal,
 he hastily began dating girls, swiftly marrying one of them, a nurse called
 Penny Avery. However, a posting to India delayed any real experience of marriage
 until after the war, and Spurling suggests that he may have had affairs with
 Indian boys. Certainly, in the sub-continent he picked up an amoebic infection
 which made him depression-prone for years. He also gathered enough material to
 begin, on his return to England, a career as a novelist.
To keep his wife and two daughters, he took a job managing the financial
 affairs of a small publishing house people always said he looked more like an
 accountant than a writer. Later he became a literary agent, helping to nurture
 the talents of the young John Braine and Muriel Spark. ''You were the only one
 who recommended me to write a novel,'' Braine said to him later. His authors
 tended to resent the fact that Scott himself was competing at their game, and he
 had some success with Johnnie Sahib (1952) and The Alien Sky (1953), both set in
 India. But as the 1950s advanced, his work began to take on something of a Lucky
 JimAngry Young Man tinge, which did not altogether suit it, and meanwhile
 (argues Spurling) he had still not really come to terms with his own divided
 sexual nature.
He left the agency and went freelance in 1959, by which time his wartime
 Indian experiences had been exhausted, and he had lost direction as a writer.
 This is where Spurling's book begins to become fascinatingly grim, as she
 portrays Scott struggling with drafts and rewrites in an upstairs room of his
 Hampstead house, erecting a mental barrier between himself and his family.
 Meanwhile, Penny Scott played the devoted but silent wife, and took to writing
 novels of her own (as ''Elizabeth Avery''), which at first were successful.
By 1963 Scott had published eight novels, none of them a real winner, and was
 surviving on meagre (but usually unearned) publishers' advances. His decision to
 return to India to look for more ''copy'' seemed like an admission of failure.
 The trip itself was largely disastrous; he hated the arrogance of the Raj
 survivors, and also deplored having to rough it in an Indian village, eating
 explosive food and defecating in a public field without benefit of toilet paper.
 He came back to England looking like an old man. But on the journey he had met
 Neil Ghosh, an Indian who had received an English public-school upbringing and
 then had been pushed back into ''native'' society, feeling he belonged in
 neither. Hari Kumar was born. On the other hand Merrick, the racist villain of
 the Raj Quartet, seems to have originated in England. Spurling says that he was
 partly inspired by Enoch Powell's stance against immigration in the 1960s, while
 Merrick's repressed homosexuality comes from Scott himself.
The Jewel in the Crown and its three successors appeared between 1966 and
 1975 and, in Scott's lifetime, made nobody's fortune Spurling describes their
 sales as ''respectable but no more''. By the time the Raj Quartet was finished,
 Scott was virtually broke, and was drinking heavily (a number of spirits on
 waking each morning, and more than a bottle a day). In 1976 Penny, whose own
 literary career had fizzled out, finally had enough. She left him and took
 refuge in Erin Pizzey's home for battered wives, though in her case the
 battering seems to have been psychological rather than physical.
It is not difficult to see why she had stayed with him so long. ''Why am I
 loved by so many?'' Scott had once asked when young, and he was never short of
 devoted friends of both sexes. His weaknesses principally drink and a tendency
 to suicidal depression were the result of divided sexuality and (even more) the
 struggle to survive as a writer. It was a sad irony that real fame and success
 came when it was too late.
Staying On won the Booker prize in 1977, but Scott, who was then making some
 desperately needed cash teaching in America, was too ill to attend the ceremony.
 Penny returned to nurse him through cancer and cirrhosis of the liver, but he
 died in March 1978, five years before the Raj Quartet was televised and his fame
 became assured. Spurling has done him the honour of a fine biography, and one
 finishes it with the feeling that he fully deserves her sympathetic narrative.
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                   Copyright 1990 Guardian Newspapers Limited
                             The Guardian (London)
                                 July 17, 1990
LENGTH: 1399 words
HEADLINE: Tuesday Women: Under cover of motherhood - The issue of gender and
 child abuse
 A FEW women sexually abuse children. There's nothing new about this; back in
 1979 American researcher David Finkelhor noted in Sexually Victimised Children
 that women are involved, 'although it is uncommon'.
 Generally it's been accepted that gender plays a significant role in the
 debate; the perpetrators are mainly men. Recently, however, a spate of media
 articles have implied that research figures represent only 'the tip of the

 The spotlight is now on women and a vision of hordes of marauding females
 preying on children has been evoked by the coverage. Can nannies and
 baby-sitters ever be trusted again? And just what do women get up to under the
 mantle of maternal care?
 Gender has no part to play in this view. Men and women do not have different
 reasons for abusing; essentially the perpetrators are people. Erin Pizzey,
 founder of Chiswick Women's Aid, wrote in a recent letter to a newspaper: 'I
 believe the time has come for us to put aside the assumption that all issues of
 abuse are issues of gender.'
 Press interest has been sparked by a number of factors coming together. Some
 of the 'bogus social workers' (there was conjecture that they were part of a
 paedophile ring) were women. Dr Wilkins, a consultant psychiatrist, wrote an
 article in the British Medical Journal arguing that the prevalence of female
 sexual abuse is greater than he had previously thought. A couple of years ago he
 was getting roughly two cases a year; now it's about one a month. And Michele
 Elliott of Kidscape, a charity campaigning for children's safety, has similar
 So are all these fears justified? Anecdotes can be fascinating but valid
 statistical conclusions about the population as a whole cannot be drawn from
 such observations. What is needed are large random surveys to gauge accurately
 what is going on, but there aren't many around that cover this subject. In 1985
 a MORI poll noted that 'the overwhelming majority of abusers are male'. The
 latest NSPCC research, based on its child protection registers, found that
 natural mothers were implicated in two per cent of cases and both parents in
 three per cent.
 The NSPCC, while emphasising that its research has limitations because it is
 based only on the registers, comments that its evidence does not support the
 'tip of the iceberg' view. And its figures do not show a statistically
 significant increase in the numbers of female offenders over the past few years.
 In America, where there is far more research on the subject, a similar
 debate about under-reporting took place in the 1980s. Arguments were advanced to
 explain why female abuse was not being detected. There were speculations about
 dubious activity being carried out under the guise of maternal care, for example
 when bathing or dressing the victim. One view was that women might be sexually
 exploiting their children by 'inappropriate' breast feeding; another that women
 were more inclined to incestuous abuse, which victims might be less likely to
 report because of dependence on their mother.
 The debate called into question exactly what constitutes abuse. Some
 activities such as a mother stroking a baby boy's penis to get him to sleep
 might be tolerated if performed by a woman. Were women also indulging in special
 kinds of abuse that went unreported, for example sleeping with a son?
 Finkelhor and Russell reviewed a range of research evidence in response to
 the discussion and examined the 'suspect mothering' thesis. They concluded that
 there were 'no sound reasons to believe that we have been wrong in presuming the
 amount of sexual abuse by adult female perpetrators to be small'. They estimated
 this to be 'probably five per cent in the case of girls and 20 per cent in the
 case of boys' and commented that despite the many opportunities mothers might
 seem to have to abuse their children, 'remarkably few seem to take advantage of
 Interestingly, another American study concluded that, though the incidence
 might be higher than earlier clinical estimates, this was 'probably due to
 increased awareness rather than increased occurrence of sexual abuse by women'.
 While this may suggest that there is no good evidence to support the 'tip of
 the iceberg' thesis, the problem nevertheless exists. Some women sexually abuse
 children and their victims may suffer greatly from the experience.
 What is needed is more information about who the offenders are and why do
 they do it. An American study by Faller in 1987 looked at 40 women who had
 sexually abused 63 children, and found that 60 per cent of the women were
 victimising two or more children. Eighty-five per cent were mothers to at least
 one of the children. Polyincestuous family abuse (ie two or more perpetrators
 and two or more victims) happened in a majority of cases. Men usually
 'instigated the sexual abuse', although Faller cautions that children may be
 more reluctant to admit to their mother playing such a role. The most common
 activity was group sex, followed by fondling, with 36.5 per cent of the victims
 male and 63.5 per cent female.
 The women were poor, with an average age of 26. 'About half had mental
 problems, both retardations and psychotic illness.' Though the study yielded a
 good deal of information, Faller warns that because this was a clinical sample,
 its findings could not be assumed to hold true for the general population and
 that the cases were possibly more 'severe and complex' than the norm.
 This study, and others, pinpoints that many offenders were abused themselves
 as children. Dr Wilkins says that, in his experience, this abuse is 'invariably
 by men'.
 Carol-Ann Hooper, lecturer in social policy and social work at York
 University, refers to a study that points to different degrees of involvement by
 women. Though some are 'independent' offenders, other women may be accomplices,
 possibly dependent on an abusive and perhaps violent partner. Half the
 independent offenders, notes Hooper, 'were seriously emotionally disturbed and
 mostly abused daughters whom they saw as an extension of themselves. Such abuse
 is a type of self-destructive behaviour and forms a quite different pattern from
 the abuse perpetrated by male offenders, who generally have no psychiatric
 condition and commonly view their children as their property.'
 Dr Welldon, consultant psychiatrist and psychotherapist, agrees that mothers
 see their children as parts of themselves, and when they abuse the child they
 hurt themselves.
 Clearly more studies are needed to map out the distinguishing features of
 female abuse in this country one is in progress in Leeds. But there is concern
 that focusing on women could deflect attention away from the central issue.
 Finkelhor and Russell note that for some people 'the fact that primarily men
 commit sexual abuse does have discomforting ideological implications'. Latching
 on to the idea that women are more involved in sexual abuse could be a means of
 denying the truth.
 Researchers at the child abuse studies unit at North London Polytechnic take
 the issue of female perpetrators seriously, but say that the overwhelming
 evidence is still that it is mainly men who abuse. They comment that if female
 abuse figures represent only the tip of the iceberg, this is also true of male
 statistics. There is no evidence to show that the gap between male and female
 abuse is closing.
 The issue of gender won't go away. It is vital in understanding why
 perpetrators are largely male. Factors such as power structure, sexual
 inequality, lack of male involvement in childcare (less contact may mean it's
 easier to abuse) and the different ways that men and women are brought up may
 all play a part.
 Rather than eradicating gender from the debate, Hooper argues that its
 relevance should be extended to all forms of child abuse. Not because 'men are
 worse than women or vice versa', but because sexual inequality is built into the
 fabric of our society and so is intimately linked with these problems.
 Kidscape, Campaign for the Prevention of Sexual Assault on Children, World
 Trade Centre, Europe House, Box 10, London E1 9AA; please enclose large sae.
 Childline, tel 0800 1111.
 NSPCC 24-hour child protection line, tel 071 404 4447; for those outside
 London, look in local directory. In case of difficulty, contact administrative
 HQ on 071 242 1626.
LOAD-DATE: June 8, 2000
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                    Copyright 1990 Newspaper Publishing PLC
                            The Independent (London)
                             June 7, 1990, Thursday
LENGTH: 337 words
HEADLINE: Letter: Child abuse by both sexes
Sir: I read with great interest Liz Hunt's article, ''Surely a woman couldn't
 be guilty of such an act?'' (23 May). I felt heartened to see openly discussed
 an issue which to many minds would be best left forever hidden. The Independent
 and Liz Hunt are to be applauded for having the courage to address the question
 of women's involvement in child abuse.
Since opening the world's first refuge for battered women and their children
 in 1971, I have worked with men, women and children involved in all permutations
 of abuse: emotional, physical and sexual.
When first confronted with evidence of the role which some women play in
 child abuse, I too was shocked. Over the years, however, I came to understand
 that the principles of abuse apply to men and women alike, that gender is not
 the primary factor determining who will abuse and who will be abused.
Instead, I came to believe that the children of incest and violence will tend
 to recreate situations of abuse within their subsequent adult relationships with
 their spouses and with their own children.
I have never sought to single out the female half of the species (as I have
 sometimes been wrongly accused of doing) in order to show that violence is all
 the woman's fault; neither do I subscribe to the volumes of rhetoric which state
 that violence is an exclusively male problem. Rather, I believe that the time
 has come for us to put aside the assumption that all issues of abuse are issues
 of gender.
As a society, we must stare unblinkingly at the perpetrators of abuse,
 whether they are women or men, and demand that the abuse stop. We must have
 compassion for all victims of abuse, whether they are male or female. We can
 envision an end to abuse within the family only when we understand that all
 family members - women, children and men - require treatment in order to
 transcend the recreation of incest and violence.
Yours faithfully,
Stake Bay
Cayman Islands
29 May
The writer was the founder of Chiswick Women's Aid.
                              268 of 278 DOCUMENTS
                    Copyright 1990 Times Newspapers Limited
                                The Sunday Times
                              May 20, 1990, Sunday
SECTION: Features
LENGTH: 164 words
HEADLINE: Who's Reading Whom
BYLINE: Erin Pizzey
Erin Pizzey is known for her work with battered women and their children: in
 1971 she established the first Women's Aid refuge in London. Her non-fiction
 books include Scream Quietly Or The Neighbours Will Hear, Infernal Child and
 Prone to Violence, and she has written five novels.  She lives in Cayman Brac
 with her children, her husband Jeff Shapiro and a menagerie of pets.
''I've just finished biographies of Kim Philby (Philip Knightley's The Master
 Spy) and of Donald Maclean (Robert Cecil's A Divided Life). My father knew both
 men in his consular days. Treachery fascinates me. It is a central theme in my
 novel, The Snow Leopard of Shanghai. Another form of treachery is embodied in
 Tissy in Lewis Percy by Anita Brookner. Bloodless is our Tissy, but thank
 goodness love triumphs on the last page. Desperate calls to Grand Cayman Public
 Library for more books. Until then, I'm reading John Cornwell's A Thief in the
 Night. Even popes are not immune to plotters.''
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                   Copyright 1987 Guardian Newspapers Limited
                             The Guardian (London)
                                  May 19, 1987
LENGTH: 926 words
HEADLINE: Open Space: How to protest and survive - Women victims of domestic
 Women who are victims of violence in the home could be helped in future if a
 radical new police policy is adopted. At present, the traditional police
 attitude to domestic disputes in Britain is one of non-intervention. But now the
 Metropolitan Police are considering treating domestic violence as the real crime
 it is, even if victims themselves are reluctant to press charges.
 There are some 28,000 domestic distress calls to London police stations
 every year but it is estimated that the true number of victims is four times
 that figure. The minority who do cry out for help find the police attitude to
 'domestics' offers no protection. Charges are rarely brought and, if they are,
 there is a real danger of reprisals against the victim.

 The new police policy, if adopted, would change this. A policy committee at
 Scotland Yard - the 'cabinet' of the Met - is considering a working party report
 which suggests that a pilot scheme should begin in Hounslow, where the refuge,
 Chiswick Family Rescue, could be involved in the experiment. A firm
 recommendation from Scotland Yard could trigger a revolution in the treatment of
 domestic violence in Britain.
 The problems with the current situation are manifest. Sandra Horley,
 director of Chiswick Family Rescue, says the most common advice from police is
 to take out a civil injunction forbidding further assaults, putting the onus on
 the victim herself.
 One woman beaten unconscious by her fiance was amazed to discover that it
 was a criminal, not a civil offence. She campaigned for seven months for her
 attacker to be prosecuted, resulting in a court case last February - the first
 successful prosecution Ms Horley has witnessed in 3,000 cases. And, as she says,
 we're not just talking about angry slaps. One woman had her face mutilated by a
 hammer and chisel, another's arm was smashed in three places as she fed the
 Sandra Horley believes police have until now merely reflected the 'Andy
 Capp' view that it is all right to take out your frustrations on your wife.
 Until 1861 it was legal to beat your wife before dusk, after which it might
 disturb the neighbours. Myths that women enjoy violence were fuelled by Erin
 Pizzey, founder of the refuge movement, who subscribed to the view that women
 who grew up in violent homes became 'punishment junkies. ' This view has been
 shattered by a Medical Research Council's study of domestic violence, carried
 out over three years. They found women who do manage to escape violent men do
 not repeat the pattern with future partners.
 The working party set up in 1984 by Scotland Yard recommended that police
 lead the way in getting tough with wife-batterers. Their report is highly
 critical of police attitudes, reporting that officers regard domestic violence
 as a low priority, 'a waste of time,' and hammers home the point that all
 assault is a criminal offence.
 Superintendent Paul Green, who led the working party, believes recruits and
 serving officers should be trained to discard the notion that domestic violence
 is a private affair. The report's main recommendation was that a pilot scheme
 should go ahead based on the practice of systematic arrest and prosecution in
 the Canadian town of London.
 Until 1984 such a policy would have been impossible to implement under
 British law, which enshrined the notion that spouses should not be forced to
 testify against each other in court. But under the Police and Criminal Evidence
 Act (PACE), a wife can now be made a compellable witness. Canadian research
 suggests that this approach leaps the most difficult hurdle in prosecuting such
 cases, that a frightened woman will withdraw her initial evidence.
 Superintendent Green believes the new policy would remove that problem by
 taking the prosecution out of the woman's hands. 'The man's anger could be
 directed away from the woman, against the police and courts. And in case he does
 further assault her, he will be charged with that too. '
 There is always the fear that a woman will become a hostile witness but
 again the Canadian research shows women do co-operate. And perhaps most
 important of all, the vast majority of victims reported that the violence was
 reduced or stopped, regardless of whether there was a conviction. Superintendent
 Green says: 'With the help of social agencies, the research suggests marriages
 need not break down when police and the courts intervene. '
 Sandra Horley has encountered fierce opposition from women's groups to the
 idea that women should be forced to give evidence against their will. But her
 experience at the sharp end has convinced her the new policy would be the best
 way of ending the cycle of beatings many women find themselves trapped in, by
 ensuring that they will be protected.
 She is backed by the Met's Community Involvement Policy Unit. Insp Jane
 Stichbury of the Unit says: 'This is the clearest sign to society that to batter
 your wife is unacceptable. ' She estimates any pilot scheme should be carried
 out for at least two years to judge whether the Canadian experience could be
 repeated here.
 If it were, an initial rush of prosecution seems inevitable (in Canada the
 number of charges brought rose 25 times in the first two years of the policy).
 After this, though, police expect there to be a saving in resources as the
 incidence of domestic violence drops. Insp Stichbury sees wider implications; as
 she points out, most juveniles the police deal with come from violent homes.
 Getting to the root cause could bring unexpected returns.
LOAD-DATE: June 9, 2000
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                   Copyright 1985 Guardian Newspapers Limited
                             The Guardian (London)
                               September 17, 1985
LENGTH: 1038 words
HEADLINE: Open Space: At the sharp end of a rolling pin / Focus on the problem
 of battered husbands
 If you took Frank Taylor at his word, his back garden must have seemed an
 unusually dangerous place. When his first wife bashed a kettle against his jaw
 and loosened two of his teeth, Frank told his doctor he'd walked into a tree.
 When he was driving her home from the off-licence and she smashed his face with
 a bottle, he'd fallen into the roses.
 Men will put with a lot before they'll admit the true source of the damage.
 Men are traditionally thought of as aggressors, not victims and while a woman
 with a black eye may get sympathy, a man with a black eye remains a figure of
 fun. Battered husbands do not yet have an Erin Pizzey to champion them and exist
 in the popular imagination mainly as a picture postcard joke; un-macho weeds who
 quiver while mountainous wives unload saucepans and rolling pins on them. In the
 real world real battered husbands are as funny as being hit on the head with a
 rolling pin.

 Frank Taylor is six foot one, his first wife five foot two. Now happily
 re-married he lived with her for 18 years. Ten years into their marriage she
 threw a vacuum cleaner down the stairs at him. Later, she averaged one attack a
 week. 'There were times I just couldn't go to work,' he says: 'so battered I
 couldn't see out of one eye, or my mouth so bruised I couldn't talk.'
 He planned to leave after being hit with the kettle, but his eldest son
 persuaded him to stay. Only when that son married did he finally move out - 'not
 out of lack of affection for my wife, but simply for self preservation.'
 Battered husbands, like battered wives, can be remarkably long-suffering and
 Why his wife behaved so violently towards him is not easily explained. The
 outbursts were very unpredictable and Frank does not seem the sort of man most
 normal people would want to hit.
 'She'd accuse me of having affairs with everybody we ever met,' he says. 'I
 can assure you I didn't. When I was there she couldn't bear the sight of me;
 when I was out of sight she wanted me back. I can only think there was a touch
 of insanity about her.'
 Did he never retaliate? 'My Dad told me you should never strike a woman.
 When I was frustrated, I used to go and beat hell out of the garden. Mine was
 the best dug for miles.'
 Husband battering is the subject of tomorrow's programme in the series Where
 There's Life .., at 7 pm on ITV. It includes interviews with Linda from Milton
 Keynes who first attacked her boyfriend with a frying pan ('There;s no going
 back. I tried just screaming and shouting at him but I wanted to hit him. I
 really used to enjoy hitting him') and Sue and John Wilson of Northampton. Their
 problems started with the arrival of an unplanned son three years ago and burst
 into violence when she discovered John was having an affair.
 'I wanted him to make up his mind to stay or go to her,' she says, 'and if
 he wanted to go, then not keep me hanging about.'
 The violence continued for three months in which time, as well as hitting,
 scratching and kicking John, she dented the sink by throwing a glass into it,
 put a two and a half foot crack in a wall by pushing him against it, and once
 'ripped up all his trousers and shirts so he'd have nothing to wear when he went
 to see her. I had to be angry with him to show my hurt - I couldn't express it
 any other way.'
 The fact that Sue was also having a secret affair at that time in no way
 curbed her anger - true life is stranger than Dallas - and neither did the
 presence of their son. When John finished his affair, the violence ceased and it
 hasn't re-surfaced since.
 Because husband battering remains a private problem and much less common
 than wife or child battering, research into it is sparse and generalisations
 about it difficult to make. A survey by the Families Need Fathers charity
 discovered that, in 10 per cent of all marriages breakdowns where violence was
 involved, wives had been violent towards their husbands. Diane Core, a
 counsellor who used to run a family crisis centre in Ormskirk, Lancs, remembers
 dealing with an average of 30 to 40 husband battering cases a year.
 Pre-menstrual tension, post natal depression, the menopause and
 sterilisation can all contribute towards releasing a woman's violence, and
 'mental disorders' are the commonest - if rather vague - catch-all explanation
 for why it happens.
 Apart from injuries to the husband, long term effects on children are the
 most alarming by-product of the problem. Even when not subjected to violence
 themselves, children are much more likely to behave violently to their partners
 if they've seen their parents fight.
 Violence resembles an addiction in that, once it has taken a grip, it can
 always threaten to recur. The greatest challenge for those who've succumbed to
 it is to find a way of crushing it when it seems about to break out again. Sue
 Wilson slams doors, smashes glasses and shouts - but no longer beats up her
 husband. Jill Paynton, another member of the Where There's Life .. audience,
 used to buy cheap cups and saucers from the market. 'When I thought it was
 coming on again,' she says, 'I'd stand by the bin and smash them.'
 The longer violence continues, the more difficult it is to control. Partly
 through shame and embarrassment, partly through mistrust of 'do-gooders,'
 couples may feel obliged to sort the problem out themselves - usually just a
 recipe for more blood. But those who have had the courage to ask for
 professional help often praise it highly: Sue Wilson first consulted her health
 visitor who put her on to the Family Welfare Association, and she and John
 continue to pay them regular visits.
 A change in public attitudes would make it easier for couples to own up to
 their problem and seek help. 'When I finally told friends and colleagues what
 had been happening to me,' says Frank Taylor, 'Most of them reckoned I'd flipped
 my lid. They thought I was exaggerating that I was going through the male
 menopause. Nobody could believe if of my sweet little blue-eyed wife.'
 Until the rest of us start recognising husband battering as a danger, and
 not a joke, children's lives will continue to be ruined and fathers' lives to be
 lost. Frank's vacuum cleaner only just missed.
LOAD-DATE: June 13, 2000
                              278 of 278 DOCUMENTS
                  Copyright 1978 The Economist Newspaper Ltd.
                                 The Economist
                                January 28, 1978
LENGTH: 830 words
HEADLINE: Closing Chiswick's open door
Mrs Erin Pizzey of Chiswick Women's Aid could pass for a saint.  A massive
 maternal figure with the face of an overblown cherub, she is magnetic, eloquent,
 confident, irritating, and fearless to the point of enthusiasm in defying
 authority.  She will need all these qualities.  The Hounslow Borough Concil,
 tired of having its district of Chiswick known as the battered wives' capital of
 Britain, this week pressed on with a prosecution that could land her in prison.
Her offence is to take into her refuge for battered wives any woman, plus
 children, who turns up at 369 Chiswick High Road, in West London.  As she has a
 genius for publicity, women from all over the country find their way there.  The
 Hounslow council says that the house should hold no more than 36 people.
In October, after a long legal battle that went to the house of lords and
 back, the local magistrate's court found Mrs Pizzey guilty and discharged her
 for 12 months on the condition that she keep her numbers below 36.  Within five
 hours, another two wives and six children had arrived and she had violated the
Since then she has given the house count freely to the inspectors who call.
 It fluctuates between 50 and 76.  There has been no major complaint against her
 hostel on grounds of health.  Although scarred and shabby, the place is clean.
The screws began to tighten against the centre on January 9th when Hounslow's
 planning committee turned down Mrs Pizzey's application to open a second refuge.
 It would have ended the overcrowding at the first, and was available.  Mrs
 Pizzey has sensible friends in high places: Lord Goodman, Lady Plowden and Mr
 David Astor preside over a private trust set up on behalf of her work.  The
 trust has bought a derelict house in a cul-de-sac full of rubbish, hemmed in by
 the M4 motorway.  The council's planners refused to grant permission for a
 change of use of this second house, on the grounds that it would be "detrimental
 to the amenities of the neighbourhood".  Once that happened, the housing
 committee voted 12 to two to move in on the overcrowding at the main hostel.
Hounslow has a case.  So has the Department of Health and Social Security
 which has just withdrawn a grant from the Chiswick centre.  Under the
 Homelessness Act, passed last year, battered wives are to be considered homeless
 persons.  Local authorities have a statutory duty to house them.  A national
 network of refuges for wives fleeing violent husbands has been established.
 Accordingly, the DHSS has transferred its blessings to the National Federation
 of Women's Aid, which runs the refuge network.
For better or worse, Mrs Pizzey is a lone crusader.  She will not join the
 national network; to her the federation is a political organisation which blames
 women's miseries on males and capitalism.  She also disagrees with the
 federation's practice of keeping the addresses of its refuges secret -- so that
 husbands cannot pursue their wives.  Women can only reach the refuges by asking
 a social worker.  Mrs Pizzey doubts the ability of the women who turn up at her
 centre to cope with even that formality.
A self-taught therapist, Mrs Pizzey has enlarged her view of wife-battering.
 Battered women, she maintains, are often not passive victims.  They are
 violence-prone.  Many beat their own children.  Many have been in trouble with
 the law.
What she runs at Chiswick is more than a refuge: it is a communal home for
 retraining women who have never paid rent, never kept any rules.  "They can't
 batter their children here, there's no privacy".  They vote on house rules.
 They do the cleaning.  They do the centre's secretarial work, and help with each
 other's children.  The centre runs an informal school and a playgroup.  They
 stay as long as they want.  There are second-stage homes for those who move out.
 When there was money, there was also a hostel for abandoned husbands.
Without official support, Mrs Pizzey's centre might still keep going.  The
 house is owned outright, thanks to a 10,000 gift from a director of Bovis.
 Cheques, money and orders and banknotes pour in daily, although not in great
 quantities unless she has been on television.
Last year 1,122 women passed through the Chiswick centre.  The open-door
 policy has turned out to be a technique for reaching those who fall through the
 social services net.  Like street corner social work and barefoot medicine, it
 is unorthodox and anarchic.  But, crudely, it works.  International observers
 come to learn.  It is not the sort of innovation for which a borough council,
 preoccupied with planning permission, fire and safety rules and citizens
 protests is likely to be grateful.  But in olden days the establishment and the
 zealot did not actually arrest the samaritan; they just passed by on the other
GRAPHIC: Picture, Erin Pizzey offers more than tea and sympathy