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The recent arrest of, and charges brought against, Sam Wood is the latest in a string of alleged offences that continue to outrage family law experts, who are demanding that more should be done. The question is: What more? writes Tamana Daqiq.
The case of well-known Australian influencer Sam Wood this week, charged with domestic violence offences and specifically strangulating his wife in a domestic setting and occasioning bodily harm while on a family holiday in Noosa, has once again sparked polarising debate on domestic violence in Australia. There is no arguing, though, that Australian culture as a whole, with its diverse communities, has collectively a systemic, malevolent problem.
Often, when family law experts say that more should be done, this is understood to refer to improving our law-and-order response – that is, the inadequacy of resources involving the police and courts to protect victims. This is true, as in NSW, two out of three victim-survivors cannot be assigned a domestic violence case worker, some victims are turned away by police when they have reported domestic violence, and more needs to be done to educate law enforcement on the nature and scope of domestic violence. However, it is not the full picture.
Having provided legal representation to hundreds of domestic violence victims in the midst of crisis over eighteen years – some with whom I have planned a meticulous escape, others who have chosen to remain in the violent relationship – it has become clear to me that the dogmatic way in which we view domestic violence is at the core of the problem. The complexity of domestic violence cannot be reduced to two options for its almost-entirely female victims – either to report it to police and leave the relationship or to remain in the relationship, enduring the violence.
In fact, it is this reductionist approach to a multifaceted issue that oftentimes becomes a barrier for women to seek genuine help in the first place. The chasm between maintaining the family unit for which they have endured much to build, on the one hand, and seeing your intimate partner behind bars and your family torn apart on the other, is insurmountable for most victims. It is for this reason that our law-and-order approach alone is not sufficient.
If we want to address domestic violence comprehensively, we firstly need to understand the plight and serious concerns of the victim, which extends beyond her own safety and that of her children – that considers her mental health, care and compassion for her perpetrator and, as difficult as it may sit with most of us – her desire to maintain her family unit as one unit, against all odds. Most women who choose to remain are fearful of losing the life they have built. They are afraid of police involvement, courts, and losing the person they have loved. They are afraid of the impact on their children and their future, their capacity to provide financially and emotionally for their children. They are afraid of how they will be viewed and judged within their communities and the shame – on one side for putting up with the violence and the other for reporting it and putting their partner behind bars. They are afraid of the escalation of violence from their partner. The list goes on.
While for many of these women, leaving the relationship is inevitable, for so many others, it is not an option they will ever entertain. So how do we help those victims? Do we expect them to continue to endure violence silently from our fear of not being seen to condone it if we offer any support, or shall we afford victims agency, accept their decisions, and dig deeper for a more honest, albeit confronting approach? One that offers a full range of rehabilitative resources to families as units that consider their specific circumstances. These may include family therapy for the victim, perpetrator and children involved; periodic separate accommodation; individual counselling; anger management courses; financial independence skills for women; and community support and involvement from cultural and religious affiliates of the family. Criminal charges and sentencing will inevitably need to be part of the response, but cannot be our sole solution. We need to be more creative, more resourceful. The gravity of the problem demands it.
The advantages of such an integrated multidisciplinary approach is multi-fold – victims who wish to remain with perpetrators may seek help earlier knowing they will not feel pressured (real or imagined) to terminate the relationship; while it appears to be resource-intensive, it is more likely to be a reallocation of resources away from courts and policing towards therapy, education, and temporary housing; and it has the potential to break intergenerational cycles of domestic violence resulting directly and indirectly from the adverse consequences of broken homes.
This call for action is by no means an encouragement for women to remain in violent relationships. For those who leave or are considering it, it is indeed a reasonable and necessary decision. Rather, this is an attempt to go beyond politically correct, manicured responses, to restore agency to victims and canvass broader options. It is a starting point for nuanced conversations and diverse responses, rigorous research and policy to redress a deep-seated, complex problem plaguing our society.
Accepting the reality and agency of victims of domestic violence is not the same as condoning domestic violence. This distinction needs to be clear. It is simply offering victims more than two choices – the gap between which, most do not survive, quite literally. Discomfort should not hinder our quest for answers; it should drive it.
Tamana Daqiq is the principal of Hikma Legal.
