It's up to all of us

One day you get off the Tube at a station in a reasonably well-heeled part of London. Greeting you on the platform is a young man threatening a young woman, looming over her, with one arm up against the wall effectively blocking her way. He's yelling, screaming at her to give him his money. Two other young men, obviously unattached to anyone, are just sitting there watching. The young woman is clearly scared, and both she and the man threatening her are holding beer cans.

What do you do, as the person alighting from the train and happening upon this scene? Do you choose to act, do you choose to watch, do you choose to walk away?

The above is a story from my recent travels, my recent past. My partner and I chose to act. We stopped and asked the woman if she was ok. At first I thought maybe she was too drunk to reply, but as things progressed it was obvious she was in fact too scared to really say or do much. The young man, let's call him XY for the sake of avoiding confusion, rounded on us, particularly my partner, Nickname Pending. What ensued was us trying, with words, to get the woman away from XY, whilst staying safe ourselves, particularly in light of threats by XY to push one or tuther of us in front of the next train rushing to the platform, or just to generally beat the crap out of us.

If I'm honest most of the threats were aimed at Nickname Pending, but the thought of my partner being pushed in front of a train terrified and paralysed me. I was torn between leaving my partner in this dangerous situation to get help or staying with him, and I chose the later. At least that way it was more like one and a half standing against XY, not just Nickname Pending alone.*

What amazed me was how many people went past and did nothing, ignored it, didn't even press the panic button at the far end of the platform to summon help. One particular man looked as if he was going to intervene, but, despite pleas from both Nickname Pending and myself that he do something (help us, get the cops), he remained hovering - not involved beyond obviously feeling that he ought to be. That didn't help much. (The title of this post refers to the posters up all through the Underground network, put up by the UK Labour Government to encourage people to not turn a blind eye, but clearly this campaign is not working.)

Afterwards I realised why none of these bystanders did get involved, why it was only a couple from the other end of the world who did. Britain's "knife culture" isn't reported on much here in NZ, but there death by stabbing is becoming a twice- or thrice-weekly event. When it was all over I suddenly understood this and had a horrible vision of Nickname Pending with a knife in his guts, pushed in forcefully by the drunk XY in full vitriolic flight, and I nearly cried all over again.

Eventually the woman sort of started to leave with us, and she walked to the exit, our bodies in between her and the enraged XY. As we started up the stairs XY hit Nickname Pending from behind, although I didn't realise this until we were home. The ear was swollen and sore for a few days, but nothing serious, either because XY wasn't really as violent as his words made out, or he was too intoxicated to aim well.

Unfortunately this was a Tube station which you left by lift, instead of stairs or escalator. So we all had to wait for the elevator, Nickname Pending and myself, the man who wasn't quite involved and his partner, XY and the woman he was abusing, and a few other people, together. At this point XY was able to catch up to his victim, who seemed to decide that there was no way to escape him as she walked out with him at the end of the ride and made no other efforts to get away that we saw. We were soundly abused by XY as "colonial convict scum", which actually nearly made me laugh.** Perhaps the woman felt less unsafe now, as XY seemed to have focused on us as the authors of his woes, rather than her.

I had pushed the panic button on the way past it to the lift but nothing had happened. When we got out of the lift I went straight to the nearest panic button in the ticket hall and hit it. Everyone else went through the turnstiles and started to leave the station, XY and the woman together (not in a lovey-dovey manner however).

The panic button communicated directly with the guard station, and I ended up in there, talking to a couple of the guards, and looking straight at their impressive array of screens, all live-feeding the CCTV from all over the station. Given that the altercation on the platform had involved pushing and shoving, and lasted at least ten minutes, you would have thought they might have noticed it and actually done something, particularly post the July 7th 2005 bombings and given the knife crime worries mentioned above.

But no. And I was soon to find out why.

The guards were not at all concerned about violence between XY and his partner, by XY towards his partner. They were worried that XY might have hit me, or Nickname Pending, but when it came to the woman who was actually most at risk of harm, they claimed it was purely a domestic matter, and thus out of their hands. I believe one of them might also have shrugged. What does the word "guard" actually mean? Does it mean to sit on one's hands? Apparently so, if the situation is between a man and a woman who may be in a relationship. (Clearly the Underground guards do not consider themselves part of the "us" in Blair's posters.)

I was still shaking from the incidents on the platform and I could tell from their faces that there was no moving them. One guard told me he had gone up to the woman, who was now sitting in the bus stop outside with XY, to ask her if she was ok and she had said yes, thus there was nothing they could do. I did feel slightly better when we walked past the two of them on the way out and XY did seem much calmer and the woman seemed to be doing some of the talking (certainly there was no yelling), but I know that even if she didn't get hit that night she probably will have been thumped by now, or will be in the future. Her paralysed response may be explained by past domestic abuse; XY certainly gave the impression of being familiar with delivering the bash, both psychologically and physically, to his partner.

In rough order, I felt worried, angry, proud (of Nickname Pending for standing up to a bully), scared, frustrated (with the woman involved), terrified, increasingly paralysed by fear, pissed off (at the bystanders), scared, tense, angry (at the guards), scared (as we were walking home down the road, and every time after that when we used that Tube station). I can only imagine how the woman felt, feels.

I'm not going to be overly analytical about this here and now, except to say that a society which turns a blind eye to violence and abuse within a relationship is sick.

It used to be that rape within marriage was not considered legally possible. I doubt that many rapes by partners, married or not, are reported, even though the law has changed, and incidents like this (and this) make the actions of those women who do not come forward understandable. It seems as if, to some (too many), abuse within a relationship is not the business of anyone but the victim and the abuser. In which case justice can never be served.



* Nickname Pending and I discussed this strategy afterwards and have decided that in future the one not irretrievably involved will get help, although I'm not sure either of us will be able to stick to this.
** I have a nasty and seemingly unbreakable tendency to laugh when I am in hysterical disbelief or terror. I once did this and hurt a friend a great deal and that is one of the few incidents of my life that I would change if I could.