What Difference Does Peace Make? Intimate Partner Violence and Violent Conflict in Northern Ireland

Abstract

This article investigates how the transition from violent conflict to peaceful political settlement has shaped intimate partner violence (IPV) in Northern Ireland focusing on three issues, which are policing, paramilitarism, and firearms. It does so on the basis of comparative analysis of interview findings with more than 100 women victims of IPV from across Northern Ireland conducted at two junctures: first in 1992 during a period of violent conflict, and later in 2016 at a time of enduring peace. The findings trace the changes that have occurred across these areas and highlight any problems that remain in the post-conflict environment.

Keywords

intimate partner violence domestic violence violent conflict armed conflict peace processes

Introduction

Intimate partner violence (IPV) refers to a pattern of threatening, controlling, coercive behavior, violence, or abuse (psychological, physical, economic, and/or sexual) used by adults or adolescents against their current or former intimate partners. This type of violence can occur among heterosexual or same-sex couples and is experienced by both women and men, although studies show that the vast majority of violence in relationships is from men to women (Breiding, Chen, & Black, 2014; Department of Justice, 2013). IPV is increasingly recognized as a major public health problem associated with a wide range of serious physical and psychological effects for victims of IPV and their children (World Health Organization, 2012). Research suggests that IPV is very much a global phenomenon,¹ experienced by individuals from all backgrounds and societies. However, a number of factors have been shown to increase its prevalence in society. One factor which has been significantly underresearched but consistently linked to the prevalence and patterns of IPV is the presence of violent conflict. Global statistics reveal that the highest prevalence rates of IPV are generally found in countries recently affected by conflict (Ali, Asad, Mogren, & Krantz, 2011; Garcia-Moreno, Jansen, Ellsberg, Heise, & Watts, 2006), and the results from quantitative studies suggest an increase in levels of IPV following the onset of conflict (Clark et al., 2010; Peterman, Palermo, & Bredenkamp, 2011; Saile, Neuner, Ertl, & Catani, 2013). Indeed, one study from Uganda found that women from conflict-affected regions were 37% more likely to report experiencing IPV in the previous year than those from peaceful regions (Koenig et al., 2003), while a study of Congolese women living in Rwandan refugee camps found that women exposed to violent conflict were 11 times more likely to be at risk of IPV when other risk factors for violence were controlled for (Wako et al., 2015).

However, the reliability of quantitative data from conflict-affected settings is often limited by the distorting effect of conflict on data collection and by the variations in methods of collection and assessment that make comparison between studies difficult (McWilliams & Ní Aoláin, 2013; Saile et al., 2013). Moreover, studies have shown that legislation, policy, and public awareness on IPV often improve post-conflict in a way that frequently leads to an escalation in reports of incidents (see Swaine, 2018). This can limit the accuracy of quantitative analysis, particularly where comparison is made as the actual prevalence of IPV and the prevalence of reports of IPV are confused. Finally, although quantitative studies suggest that a relationship exists between violent conflict and IPV, they typically tell us little about how this relationship is mediated, and the specific ways in which the presence of conflict and the cessation of hostilities in a society shape victims’ experiences of IPV. In shedding light on the precise connections between violent conflict and IPV, qualitative research, which is nuanced and attentive to the local context, is clearly valuable. Yet, despite this, there have been very few comprehensive qualitative studies of IPV and violent conflict. In part, this reflects not only the difficulties of empirically researching IPV in conflict/post-conflict societies, but also the way in which the scholarly and policy focus on systematic rape by armed actors during conflict has diverted attention from other forms of gendered violence, including IPV, and how they are shaped by conflict (Holt, 2013; McWilliams & Ní Aoláin, 2013; Wood, 2014).

The limited empirical research which does exist, however, has exposed the impact of violent conflict on IPV, detailing how many of the “normal” drivers of IPV are compounded during times of conflict, and also how the more distinctive features of a conflict, such as the increased presence of armed/paramilitary groups, firearms, and breakdown in criminal justice mechanisms, shape experiences of and responses to IPV (Annan & Brier, 2010; Cardoso, Gupta, Shuman, Cole, Kpebo, & Falb, 2016; Guruge et al., 2017; Swaine, 2015). This article contributes to this emerging body of literature by providing the first longitudinal examination of how victims’ experiences of IPV change as a society transitions from conflict to peace. The value of comparative longitudinal studies as one of the most reliable methods for assessing changes to experiences and patterns of IPV following a peaceful political settlement, and their global absence have been well noted in the literature (Clark et al., 2010). Thus, the current study presents a unique contribution to the literature on IPV and violent conflict.

Within this context, the core objective of the article is to examine how the transition from violent conflict to peaceful political settlement has shaped IPV in Northern Ireland between 1992 and 2016. Related to this are three supplementary objectives, each of which considers an aspect of the relationship between violent conflict and IPV: (a) to assess any changes that have occurred in the policing of IPV between the study periods; (b) to examine the impact of paramilitarism on experiences of IPV and any changes that have occurred therein between the study periods; and (c) to examine the impact of firearms on experiences of IPV and any changes that occurred over the same time period.

IPV and Violent Conflict

A holistic approach to IPV views risk factors for violence as existing across different and interacting levels, namely, personal/individual, interpersonal/relationship, community, and societal levels (Heise, 1998). Personal/individual factors refer to those risk factors associated with an individual’s background, such as childhood experience of violence and circumstances that limit an individual’s capacity to exit a violent relationship (e.g., poverty and social/economic dependency; Heise, 1998). Interpersonal/relationship factors include a high level of discord/conflict between partners and factors indicative of a relationship power imbalance, such as inequitable decision-making and control of assets by one partner. These individual and interpersonal risk factors interact with and can be compounded by a set of community- and societal-level factors that increase the likelihood of individuals experiencing violence and/or limit their capacity to access support and exit a violent relationship. Influential community-level factors include factors that normalize violence in society, such as the presence of conservative gender norms that support male dominance over women and create a cultural stigma toward divorce and single parenthood. Societal factors augment violence by deepening inequality between women and men and by creating a culture of impunity within the criminal justice perspective, and include discriminatory legal frameworks, and low levels of political and economic empowerment for women (Heise, 1998; Michau, Horn, Bank, Dutt, & Zimmerman, 2015).

Research and national statistical data from conflict and post-conflict societies have confirmed that many of the established risk factors for IPV are often magnified by conflict, with societies typically becoming poorer, more gender unequal, and espousing more conservative traditional roles for women as wives and mothers following conflict (Ní Aoláin, Haynes, & Cahn, 2011). Although a substantial body of literature has acknowledged and drawn attention to the connections that exist between the onset of violent conflict and issues like poverty and gender inequality on one hand, and between poverty and gender inequality and IPV on the other hand, it has tended to treat violence in the public sphere (violent conflict) and in the private sphere (IPV) as distinct. Moreover, the established literature has tended to overlook the striking congruency between the consequences of violent conflict and risk factors for IPV. A few notable exceptions exist, as outlined below, with these studies variously seeking to illustrate how the presence and features of violent conflict in a society interact with the risk factors for other kinds of violence, and how violent conflict shapes individual experiences and/or service responses to IPV.

Research by Guruge et al. (2017) with more than 30 victims of violence and service providers in Sri Lanka revealed how the conflict there increased the levels of IPV in society, shaped individual experiences of IPV, and extended impunity to perpetrators of IPV (Guruge et al., 2017). Considering the first of these, service providers participating in the study reported higher levels of IPV among women from communities most affected by the conflict and furthermore connected this to the higher exposure to violence at a community level during conflict and increased tolerance of violence in general as a result of it. Research by Horn, Puffer, Roesch, and Lehmann (2014) in Sierra Leone and Liberia found that although women did not consider their violent partner’s behavior to stem from the political conflict, as violence had mostly existed in their homes prior to its onset, they believed that conflict influenced IPV in direct and indirect ways. These included an increased view among men who had participated in conflict that violence (including IPV) is a normal and acceptable way of responding to frustration/challenges, increased IPV from men with conflict-related psychological health problems, and increased women’s dependency on men financially, which in turn made it difficult for them to leave IPV relationships and afforded men impunity for IPV. Guruge et al. (2017) also examined issues of impunity for IPV connected to the conflict in Sri Lanka, showing how membership of armed (militant) groups prevented perpetrators from being held accountable for IPV as police refused to intervene in incidents where perpetrators were involved in militant groups for fear of reprisal (Guruge et al., 2017). Swaine (2015) recorded similar findings from her research in Liberia, Northern Ireland, and Timor-Leste, finding that women were too afraid to report IPV crimes and police refused to intervene where perpetrators were involved in armed (paramilitary) groups.

Elsewhere, studies on criminal justice responses to IPV in conflict-affected and/or ethnically divided societies show how limited access to and/or a breakdown in legal and policing systems during conflict increase impunity for IPV crimes as IPV can be perpetrated with little fear of accountability and thus the law loses its deterrent value. Erez, Ibarra, and Gur’s (2015) analysis of policing of IPV among the Arab community in Israel, for example, shows how the policing of a minority group by a majority group and dynamics of a conflict overlay policing to shape both community responses to the police and police responses to the community. A key impact of this was to create “mutual suspicion” between the Arab community and the police, whereby the Arab community is often mistrustful of the responsiveness of the majority Israeli Jewish police, and the police in turn are reluctant to respond to IPV calls from the Arab community for fear of ambush. In Northern Ireland, McWilliams and McKiernan (1993) and later Swaine (2015, 2018) also highlight how the dynamics of the conflict overlaid policing and specifically how the preoccupation of police with political violence and majority policing of a minority population limited reporting of IPV crimes to police and police responses to these crimes.

Finally, a few studies from conflict-affected societies and research from countries with a large ownership of firearms have underscored the negative implications of the presence of these firearms in IPV situations. Campbell et al. (2003) found that the presence of a firearm in the home increased the risk of a woman sustaining an injury during an abusive incident by more than 3 times and further cited this as a key risk factor for femicide in IPV relationships in the United States. Dobash, Dobash, Cavanagh, and Medina-Ariza (2007), in their analysis of two distinct studies with more than 200 violent men sentenced for IPV, also cited the possession of a firearm as a key risk factor for femicide. In this regard, both during and following a conflict, the increased quantity and availability of firearms has serious implications for women experiencing IPV. Research from conflict-affected countries, including Northern Ireland and Liberia, has also shown how the influx of firearms provided perpetrators of violence against women (VAW) with an additional source of power over their partners, even where firearms were not used to cause physical harm in IPV situations (Swaine, 2015; McWilliams & Ní Aoláin, 2013).

The Northern Ireland Context

Northern Ireland came into existence in 1921 as a result of the partitioning of Ireland by the British Parliament. While Southern Ireland became an independent state, the Protestant majority in Northern Ireland sought to remain part of the United Kingdom. However, a sizable Catholic minority in Northern Ireland remained politically and culturally aligned with what became known as the Irish Republic. The ethnic and religious polarization between the two communities in Northern Ireland—the protestant, British majority (unionists/loyalists) and the Catholic, Irish minority (nationalists/republicans)—is long-standing. This polarization became embedded in Northern Ireland with ongoing outbreaks of violence between the two communities that were followed by a prolonged period of violent conflict from 1968-1998 (Todd & Ruane, 1996; Tonge, 2002). Throughout the Northern Ireland conflict, referred to locally as “the Troubles,” more than 3,500 individuals were killed and 40,000 seriously injured (see Conflict Archive on the Internet [CAIN], 2016).

The conflict in Northern Ireland formally came to an end in 1998 with the signing of the Belfast Agreement (also known as the “Good Friday Agreement”) and the establishment of a devolved government in which both nationalists and unionists adhered to power-sharing arrangements. As part of the peace agreement, a radical reform of policing was implemented replacing the existing police force (the Royal Ulster Constabulary, RUC) with the Police Service of Northern Ireland (PSNI). A 50% quota for Catholic recruitment was introduced to address the lacunae in its religious composition. While the Belfast/Good Friday Agreement and emerging peace process have significantly reduced the political violence and transformed Northern Ireland in many ways, ethno-national antagonisms have remained strong. Divisions and mistrust continue to exist alongside intermittent episodes of violence with some of the existing paramilitary groups refusing to disband and small splinter groups emerging to replace those on ceasefire (Ashe, 2012).

Concerning the extent of IPV in Northern Ireland, the absence of regular large-scale survey data renders it difficult to reliably ascertain prevalence. Among the most reliable sources of statistical information on IPV in Northern Ireland are the annual PSNI reports, which detail the number of domestic violence incidents reported to police.² Although these are likely to be an underestimation of the true prevalence given the recorded tendency among victims not to report (PSNI, 2015, p. 31), they nevertheless provide a valuable indication of the extent of IPV in Northern Ireland as set out below for the years 2004-2005³ to 2016-2017 in Table 1. Prior to this, statistics were not recorded in the same (and thus comparable) format, but it is worth noting that closest available official statistics to the 1992 study, for the year 1995-1996, put the number of domestic violence incidents reported to the then RUC at 5,903 (RUC, 1995/1996).

Table 1.

Reports of Incidents of Domestic Violence for Northern Ireland 2004-2017.

Year	No. of reported incidents
2016-2017	29,166
2015-2016	28,392
2014-2015	28,287
2013-2014	27,628
2012-2013	27,190
2011-2012	25,196
2010-2011	22,685
2009-2010	24,482
2008-2009	23,591
2007-2008	23,076
2006-2007	23,456
2005-2006	23,059
2004-2005	20,959

Source. Police Service of Northern Ireland (2017).

This most recent figure of 29,166 for 2016-2017 represents the highest level recorded and is 39.2% higher than the level of 20,959 when consistent recording began in 2004-2005 (PSNI, 2017). There has been some debate in the literature on IPV/VAW and violent conflict as to whether the increase in reports of instances of IPV which is observed here for Northern Ireland and has also been observed in the aftermath of conflict elsewhere relates mainly to an actual increase in instances of IPV due to conflict-related factors (e.g., increased tolerance of violence in society, former soldiers returning home post-conflict) or to an increase in reports of incidents of IPV due to increased awareness and focus on IPV/VAW post-conflict (Hoewer, 2013; Jarman, 2004; Swaine, 2018). This debate is pertinent to this article given that population-based surveys on IPV in Northern Ireland for 1992 and 2010-2011 record almost identical IPV prevalence rates—a finding supporting the argument that more incidents of IPV are being reported to and/or recorded by police post-conflict rather than incidents of IPV have increased extraordinarily (Department of Justice, 2013; Ardoyne Women’s Research Project).⁴ Also significant is that the prevalence rates recorded by these population-based surveys (approximately one in every four women) are far higher than the PSNI figures suggest, indicating that even with the huge increase, these figures still underestimate the exact prevalence of IPV.

Empirical studies from Northern Ireland have also recorded the serious physical and psychological consequences of IPV for victims and their families. Devaney (2013) and Dorahy, Lewis, and Wolfe (2007), for instance, found that women who had experienced IPV had higher levels of depression and anxiety, poorer physical health, and were more likely to report excessive alcohol and drug use. In addition, McWilliams and McKiernan (1993) recorded 22 different negative effects of IPV on children. At the most extreme end of the spectrum, domestic homicides account for, on average, one in every four murders, manslaughters, and attempted murders in Northern Ireland (Northern Ireland Policing Board, 2011). In assessing the criminal justice and professional response to IPV in Northern Ireland, the outcomes are generally mixed, with a recent Department of Justice (2016) report finding that while the police score well on speed of response and suitability of referral, they were criticized for not taking reports of IPV seriously, not believing victims’ accounts of incidents, and a perceived lack of sensitivity toward victims of IPV. Other service providers (e.g., public prosecution, courts, and victim support) received similarly mixed reports, with the exception of voluntary support services which were positively appraised (Department of Justice, 2016). Finally, while there is a shortage of literature examining how IPV has been shaped by the violent conflict in Northern Ireland, three studies considering this issue by Swaine (2015), McWilliams and Ní Aoláin (2013), and McWilliams and McKiernan (1993) expose these consequences. These include limited access to policing for victims of IPV, the influx of firearms, and the dominance of paramilitary groups in local communities, which in turn shape individual experiences of IPV, weaken responses to IPV from professionals, and extend impunity to perpetrators of IPV.

Method

This study uses the 1992 study by McWilliams and McKiernan (1993) as the base comparator for the results that follow. Accordingly, the methodological approach of the 2016 study mirrors that of the 1992 study. Both studies used qualitative research methods, and identical approaches to sampling and data collection were employed. These approaches were also considered the most appropriate fit for the nature of the research and its aims and objectives. The method of data analysis, however, did differ slightly for the two studies. For the 2016 study, qualitative data were coded and also quantified to assess the prevalence of issues raised; this was not consistently done for the 1992 research. This means that quantitative comparison between research findings is limited to a few core issues and, therefore, the results are mainly compared qualitatively.

Sampling

A nonprobability sampling strategy was used to identify potential participants, taking care to contact and include women⁵ from across different age groups,⁶ geographic locations, and religious, ethnic, and economic backgrounds. As with the previous study, Northern Ireland Women’s Aid Federation (hereafter Women’s Aid) partnered in the research, assisting with the recruitment of women from across their refuges and outreach centers and providing support to interviewees during and after interviews.⁷ A total sample size of 60-70 women was sought, which is consistent with both the 1992 study, for which 64 women were interviewed, and considered to be more than adequate, taking into account Mason’s (2010) finding that the median sample size of qualitative studies is 20-30. In all cases, only participants identified by Women’s Aid staff as not especially likely to become distressed by the interview content were approached for interview. This sampling approach produced a final sample size of 63 women victims of IPV, whose background details are shown in Table 2.

Table 2.

Overview of Study Participants.

Participant information (N = 63)
From	Age group, years	Religious background
Northern Ireland (47)	18-29 (9)	Catholic (28/63)
Irish Travelers (4)	30-39 (12)	Protestant (24/63)
England (4)	40-49 (19)	Mixed Catholic-Protestant (3)
Eastern Europe (4)	50-59 (11)	Muslim (2)
Middle East North Africa (2)	60-69 (11)	Other unlisted^a (4)
Asia (2)	70+ (1)	Baptist (1)
		Methodist (1)

Note. Limited information is shown here as the small population of Northern Ireland make it impossible to provide more specific details on participants without risking their anonymity.

This is listed as “other” as it refers to single participants who are from religious backgrounds with a very low representation in Northern Ireland and therefore providing the religious background of these participants may jeopardize their anonymity.

Data Collection and Analysis

The main body of interviews took place between February and June 2016. An interview guide was developed to inform the conduct of semi-structured interviews and designed to re-examine the issues raised in the 1992 study and to explore the factors related to the transition from conflict. More specifically, the interview guide explored the following key themes: (a) experience and impact of IPV, (b) assistance sought by participants from formal (professional services/agencies) and informal (family, friends, clergy) sources, and (c) the impact of the Northern Ireland political context on IPV. In relation to the latter, key issues explored included any barriers to seeking help at a local and community level, including the presence/impact of cultural and religious attitudes, segregation at a community level, and matters related to the security situation in Northern Ireland. The latter include the decommissioning of weapons (disarmament), paramilitary presence in communities, the reintegration of prisoners with a political conviction following the peace agreement, and other aspects related to the legacy of the conflict. Interviews ranged in length from 36-105 min, with the average interview lasting 66 min. The majority of interviews (60/63) were recorded using a digital recorder, and when this was not possible, one of the researchers took detailed notes throughout the interview. To ensure the safety of participants, protect their right to privacy, and increase openness and frankness,⁸ the anonymity of study participants was maintained at all stages.

The interviews were transcribed verbatim, and a series of thematic codes drawn from the research questions, interview questions, and main debates in the literature were used as a template for analyzing interview data. Each transcript was assigned a random number between one and 63 and reviewed in-depth by the researchers. In each instance where an issue was mentioned, the corresponding interview number was inserted next to the relevant code in a spreadsheet. For example, if participant number “2” reported that they contacted the police in relation to IPV then the number “2” was inserted next to “Contacted police—yes” on the coding sheet (see Figure 1). Coding in this way ensured that the analysis was data-driven, while quantifying the qualitative data highlighted common themes and their prevalence, and reduced the possibility of researcher bias, thus adding to the robustness of the study.

Figure 1.

Example of coding method.

Results

Policing

It has already been mentioned that the presence and features of violent conflict shape the policing of IPV by determining police responsiveness to IPV and access to and perceptions of police among citizens (Erez, Ibarra, & Gur, 2015; Swaine, 2015). On this basis, one might expect to see improvements in policing of IPV following a successful transition from violent conflict to peaceful political settlement. In this context, Table 3 sets out participant appraisals of police response to IPV incidents for both the 2016 and 1992 studies. The majority of participants in the 2016 study reported positive experiences with the police, with 25 (62.5%) of 40 participants who had contact with the police describing them as “helpful,” compared with 12 (of 40; 30%) participants who described them as “not helpful” and three (7.5%) who reported “mixed” experiences (a positive experience on one occasion but a negative experience on another). Conversely, for the 1992 study, most participants reported negative experiences with the police, with 26 (74.3%) of 35 participants describing them as “not helpful” compared with nine (of 35; 25.7%) participants who described them as “helpful.”

Table 3.

Participant Assessment of Policing Response.

Police response	1992 study		2016 study
Police response	No.	%	No.	%
Helpful	9/35	25.7	25/40^a	62.5
Not helpful	26/35	74.3	12/40	30.0
Mixed	0/35	0	3/40	7.5

This figure includes participants who had not directly contacted the police but who had contact with them, such as when neighbors had contacted the police. In total, there were four of these participants.

At a broad level, a striking finding is the difference in appraisals of policing responses to IPV between the studies and specifically the increase in the proportion of positive appraisals and decrease in the proportion of negative appraisals. Statistically, the proportion of participants describing the police as “helpful” increased 39.8% from nine (25.7%) of 35 participants in 1992 to 25/40 (62.5%) in 2016, and perhaps more revealing is that the proportion of participants describing the police as “not helpful” decreased 44.3% from 26/35 (74.3%) in 1992 to 12/40 (30%) in 2016. These changes are clearly reflected in the qualitative accounts given by participants, and many of the 25 participants in the 2016 study who described the police as helpful recounted very good experiences with them:

I had a lovely police officer, he was really nice. They [police] came out right away and then came [back] the next day and took photographs . . . and put out a warrant for him [perpetrator]. . . . I’d give them [police] ten out of ten. (Interview 35, April 2016)

I actually think they [police] were really on top of things. . . . [Giving a statement] even wasn’t daunting; you felt quite at ease because you were with people that you trusted—you felt safe with them. (Interview 10, March 2016)

These accounts differ considerably from those cited in the 1992 study, where a common feature of the reports was that police sided with perpetrators, minimized violence, and/or refused to intervene in what they often referred to as “domestics” (McWilliams & McKiernan, 1993, p. 93). By way of example, one 1992 participant spoke of an incident in which the responding officer had taken an almost apologetic tone with her violent partner and she had overheard him saying, “Look, we have to let her see we’re coming over here” (McWilliams & McKiernan, 1993, p. 93). These changes in police attitudes toward IPV likely reflect the changing global attitudes since 1992, which have been absorbed locally in Northern Ireland and have increasingly named IPV and VAW as unacceptable and sanctionable (Yllö & Torres, 2016, p. 191). They may also reflect the impact of increased police attention to issues such as IPV following the end of the conflict as police have had more time and resources (including training) to spend on these issues (Jarman, 2004; Swaine, 2018).

A particularly striking finding from the 1992 study was that trust in the police was markedly low among participants from Catholic, nationalist communities, who tended to view the police as a source of harassment rather than as a source of protection (McWilliams & McKiernan, 1993, p. 56). This was largely related to the structure of policing composed of officers from an almost exclusively Protestant background (more than 92%) at that time and the resulting view that the police as an institution did not represent the society from which it came (McWilliams & McKiernan, 1993; see also Jarman, 2004, and Garrett, 1999). As noted above, reforms to address this imbalance in the composition of the police force were introduced as part of the political settlement in Northern Ireland and significant efforts were also made to improve police relations with Catholic, nationalist communities (Byrne & Monaghan, 2008). That distrust of police was no longer raised by participants from nationalist communities in the 2016 study points to the positive implications of these reforms for victims of IPV, which is an issue of key importance to which we return in the concluding section.

In addition to changes in appraisals of policing between the studies, significant change is also evident in terms of how the police respond to IPV incidents. For the 2016 study, most participants who had contacted the police reported that the police took official action, either by arresting the perpetrator (in 14/40 cases; 35%) or by issuing them an official caution (13/40; 32.5%). A further nine participants (22.5%) reported that the police took a statement but did not follow through with an arrest or official caution, although in several of these cases, the police had assisted in some other way requested by the victim, for example, by organizing to have the locks changed on their home or by bringing them to a place of safety. No participant in the 2016 study reported that the police failed to respond or arrive when called, although four participants (10%) reported that the police took no action once on the scene (always in situations involving nonphysical violence). In most cases, however, the police did take official action, and in a number of cases, they took multiple actions, as the following extract demonstrates:

[I contacted the police] maybe three or four times. . . . The first time they arrested him for breach of [the] peace. . . . the last time they lifted [arrested] him and charged him. . . . They took photographs of injuries. . . . The domestic violence liaison [officer] . . . stayed in touch—let me know what [was happening]. . . . I must say they did help anytime. (Interview 40, April 2016)

In the 1992 study, by contrast, few participants reported that the police took official action, with only three reports (out of 35 respondents; 8.6%) stating that the police arrested the perpetrator and three (8.6%) reporting that they issued an official caution. Between the two studies, this represents an increase of 26.4% in reports of arrest and of 23.9% in official cautions being issued. Most striking is that while in 2016 there were no reports of the police not arriving after being called, reports of “no action” were commonplace in 1992,⁹ with several participants reporting that they waited “all night” for police to respond (McWilliams & McKiernan, 1993, p. 92). Although the reports of “no action” in the 1992 study came from participants from different localities, they were most common for participants living in nationalist communities. This is due to bogus domestic violence calls being used by nationalist paramilitary groups to lure police officers into these areas, making officers reluctant to respond (McWilliams & McKiernan, 1993). By the time of the 2016 study, there were no longer areas of Northern Ireland regarded as “off limits” or “no go,” which meant that participants from nationalist communities in particular reported that the police responded promptly to their calls. This is a significant change and reflects the outworking of the transition from violent conflict for victims of IPV, which is further discussed below.

Although the 2016 results underscore a notable improvement in policing response to IPV, there were still some negative and mixed appraisals of police responses. The results show that these typically concerned negative experiences with individual police officers, and/or poor police response to situations involving emotional/psychological violence. Participants referred to discrepancies in policing response and how certain officers—domestic violence liaison officers in particular—offered very competent responses to IPV incidents, while others perceived to be poorly trained or lacking in empathy were unresponsive or in a few instances increased the level of risk to participants. By way of example, one participant spoke about how one domestic violence liaison officer she had dealt with “was very, very good,” but other officers often “didn’t know what they were doing” (Interview 32, April 2016). Another participant gave the following example showing how the response discouraged her from disclosing an important point of information:

I’ll give you an example; and it sticks with me; in my gut . . . when this fella [junior officer] was asking me “did he [perpetrator] ever harm his pet?” [and] he actually looked at the other [officer] and he laughed. He laughed. And I wanted to say “He battered the shit out of his poor dog” but I didn’t say it because I was too embarrassed ’cause they were laughing. When I mentioned this to my support worker afterwards she said that him doing that was a sign I was at risk. (Interview 44, May 2016)

Also related to negative or mixed experiences with police was a perceived lack of policing response in situations where violence was nonphysical. Several participants reported that while the police were helpful and reactive when an incident involved physical IPV, they were often quite dismissive when an incident involved psychological IPV. As one participant remarked, “unless they [perpetrator] draw blood nothing is going to happen” (Interview 47, May 2016). The failure to respond raises concerns as these incidents were causing considerable distress to participants and/or were potentially dangerous with participants reporting that they were being stalked and harassed by extremely violent ex-partners. Both of these findings reinforce the arguments made elsewhere by Lagdon, Armour, and Stringer (2015) that emotional violence needs to be taken much more seriously and requires a more serious response by the criminal justice system in Northern Ireland.

Paramilitaries

The impact of paramilitary/armed groups on IPV has been recorded in studies from Northern Ireland and Sri Lanka, which detail how membership of these groups increase the level of power, control, and impunity available to perpetrators (Guruge et al., 2017; Swaine, 2015). Although 20 years have passed since the ceasefires (declaring an end to formal paramilitary hostilities), the 2016 results reveal that the control of paramilitary organizations in Northern Ireland continues to impact women experiencing IPV. In the most recent study, 11 (20.8%) of 53 participants¹⁰ raised the impact of paramilitarism on their lives when asked about the conflict and its aftermath, making it a highly prevalent legacy. The impact of paramilitarism was evident in two main respects: on one hand, affiliation with paramilitary groups provided a source of power to perpetrators of IPV; on the other hand, paramilitary groups represented for victims an alternative and more rapid response to IPV that bypassed the established criminal justice system.

Considering the first and most prevalent issue, nine participants (of 53; 17%) stated that their partners used/had used paramilitary connections or alleged paramilitary connections to threaten, control, and/or abuse them.¹¹ The following extract provides an example and illustrates how the threat of paramilitary connections was used as a method of control in the household:

He used to say that he was in the UDA [Ulster Defence Association; a loyalist paramilitary organisation]. Whether he was or wasn’t I don’t actually know but he would sit you down and say that he’d get them to sort you out. Like that a phone call was all it would take. I was too frightened [then], maybe even more cautious of saying anything (to the police) in case . . . you know . . . (Interview 22, March 2016)

As suggested by this extract, the authenticity of a connection to paramilitary organizations was open to question with many participants who raised this issue claiming they had been fabricated with the specific intent of controlling and threatening them:

. . . he would pretend he was involved in things and he was the Mr Big guy, but I knew he wasn’t because he was never out the door—he stayed with me 24/7. He would’ve let on [he was involved], though, saying when he did go out “oh I was away getting such and such sorted out.” But I knew rightly it was a load of rubbish . . . that it was just another control. (Interview 51, June 2016)

While this participant was aware that her partner was misleading her at the time, several other participants only discovered the fabrication after exiting the relationship, meaning that these threats had the same impact for these participants as if they were real. The fact that perpetrators of IPV use affiliation with armed groups to threaten and abuse their partners points toward the different sources of power that may be open to perpetrators of IPV in conflict and post-conflict contexts. The impact of paramilitarism on perpetrator power, reporting, and impunity has also been recorded in post-conflict Sri Lanka (Guruge et al., 2017), as well as in the previous Northern Ireland study in which prior to the ceasefires, in 1992, it was a central issue (McWilliams & McKiernan, 1993; see also Swaine, 2015). In highlighting the continued influence of paramilitarism on experiences of IPV in Northern Ireland 20 years following the ceasefires, the findings call attention to the gendered implications of a demilitarization process. In noting the awareness among several 2016 participants that paramilitary connections were falsified, an issue not reported in 1992 when the connections were real, the respondents agreed that the formal process of disarmament in 2007 had closed off to some extent this control for perpetrators of IPV. These issues are rarely discussed as part of the demobilization, disarmament, and reintegration (DDR) process associated with conflict transformation following a peace agreement.

A second, although much less commonly reported way in which paramilitarism shapes experiences of IPV is where paramilitary/armed groups act in a policing role by offering what they perceive as protection to victims of IPV. Typically, this “protection” involves a paramilitary group issuing a warning/threat of physical violence (known locally as “punishment” beatings or shootings) to a perpetrator if they do not stop harassing or abusing an IPV victim. There have been more than 4,000 records of casualties resulting from paramilitary “punishment” attacks since the start of the conflict (Alderice, McBurney, & McWilliams, 2016). Although there has been a considerable decrease in the prevalence of these attacks in recent years, they still continue with 88 casualties recorded by the PSNI in 2015 (Alderice et al., 2016).

During and immediately post-conflict, these paramilitary style assaults were particularly prominent in nationalist and unionist working-class communities where the police were viewed either as illegitimate (nationalist communities) or as ineffectual (nationalist and unionist communities; Ashe, 2015). Although these paramilitary systems tended to focus mainly on “anti-social” behavior by young men, they have also been known to issue punishment beatings to perpetrators of IPV and sexual violence (Ashe, 2015; O’Rourke, 2008). Returning to our results, in the 2016 study, only two (of 53; 3.8%) participants had contacted paramilitary groups looking for protection from IPV. One participant spoke about how following her request for “somebody [from a paramilitary group] to speak a wee word in his ear” her partner had after many years stopped harassing her (Interview 37, May 2016). The second participant to make a similar request of a local paramilitary agreed her request served its purpose. In general, however, participants did not seek assistance from paramilitary groups, even where this was potentially an option. In the 1992 study, when the conflict was still at its height, victims reported their concerns that perpetrators were being recruited as police informers to avoid prosecution or enforcement orders for IPV (McWilliams & McKiernan, 1993). An allegation of this kind was sufficient to prevent victims from approaching either the paramilitaries or the police. Given the strong connection that generally exists between paramilitarism and (militarized) masculinity (Ashe, 2012; Theidon, 2009), the different pathways to seeking help have to be weighed by those living with, or among, paramilitaries.

Comparing the 2016 findings with those from 1992, the number of participants contacting paramilitary groups for assistance fell from four (of 56; 7.1%) in 1992 to two (of 53; 3.8%) in 2016. Several changes that have taken place between the studies, each related to the peace process, may account for this decrease. The first is the demobilization of paramilitary groups following the political settlement, although the findings detailed above suggest that this alone may not account for this change, as paramilitary groups/paramilitarism have remained influential in other areas of IPV. A second set of factors relates to the increased protection and assistance for victims of IPV that has opened up over the last 20 years. Access to and confidence in policing have increased across communities, but particularly in nationalist communities, as a result of policing reform. Indeed, across both studies, participants reported that they only turned to paramilitary organizations when they felt they “had no more options” (Interview 22, March 2016), which was a situation in which they were less likely to find themselves when mainstream criminal justice mechanisms became available. Moreover, while participants in the 1992 study spoke about how paramilitary groups had an advantage over the police because they were “quicker [to respond to an incident] than the police” (McWilliams & McKiernan, 1993, p. 56), police having to wait for clearance and/or a military escort to enter nationalist areas, no such situation existed in the 2016 study with participants from all areas commending the police on the speediness of their response. A participant from the 2016 study, for example, spoke specifically about the increased contact between her (nationalist) community and the police, making tentative connections to the past use of paramilitary groups for assistance in lieu of police:

Participant:

I see the police [in this area] now. During that period though [the conflict] if you were in trouble you did nothing—you didn’t go to the police . . .

Interviewer:

Did women go to the paramilitaries?

Participant:

Probably, yes. (Interview 28, March 2016)

In addition to the opening up of effective formal criminal justice mechanisms across Northern Ireland, another factor likely to contribute to the decrease in the number of women experiencing IPV contacting paramilitary organizations is the development of community-based restorative justice (CBRJ) schemes in nationalist and unionist communities. These schemes, which emerged as part of the conflict resolution process within local communities, have sought to provide an alternative to paramilitary assaults by focusing on nonviolent resolution of crimes, usually through mediation (Ashe, 2015). While the predominantly male-oriented nature of these schemes¹² and the introduction of state protocols limiting the use of mediation in cases of IPV have meant that their involvement in IPV cases is likely a relatively marginal one, research does suggest that these schemes have been accessed by victims of IPV in communities where barriers to policing still exist and thus they may also have contributed to a diminished role for paramilitary groups in policing IPV (Ashe, 2015; O’Rourke, 2008).

Overall, however, while the comparative results suggest that victims of IPV are now less likely to seek assistance from paramilitary groups than they were during the conflict, it should also be highlighted that even in the 1992 study, when access to effective policing was limited, only a small number of participants reported that they had contacted paramilitary groups for assistance. The reasons were the same across both studies—that participants feared paramilitary groups would use excessive force when dealing with their partner. That punishment through excessive force is perceived to be an appropriate response to situations of IPV by paramilitary groups, although not by female partners of abusive men, underscores the connection that exists between paramilitarism and militarized masculinity (Ashe, 2012).

Firearms

Research has repeatedly sought to highlight the danger posed by firearms in IPV situations, finding that the presence of a firearm in the home significantly increases the risk that a victim of IPV will sustain an injury or be killed during an incident (Campbell et al., 2003; Dobash et al., 2007). Even in situations where firearms are not used, their presence in the home can still increase the level of threat for victims of IPV (McWilliams, 1998). With the onset of conflict, the availability of firearms frequently increases, even for “ordinary” members of society outside of the security forces. During the conflict in Northern Ireland, for instance, members of the security forces, politicians, members of the judiciary, and those employed in security-related businesses were legally permitted to own “personal protection” firearms. Consequently, there was a marked increase in the number of legally held firearms from the start to the end of the conflict.¹³ Add this to the considerable arsenal of illegal weapons held by members of paramilitary groups¹⁴ and one starts to build a picture of the extent of firearm ownership in Northern Ireland during the conflict.

Within that context, it is perhaps unsurprising that a main feature of the 1992 study was the considerable extent to which firearms affected participants’ experiences of IPV. Participants spoke about incidents in which a firearm was held to their head, incidents in which their partner had threatened them by saying they would get a firearm, and refuge workers recalled seeing women with circular bruising on their necks caused by a firearm’s muzzle. These incidents created a high level of anxiety and fear among participants, particularly where victims, as noted below, reported incidents of partners copying “Russian Roulette,” made famous by the film “Deer Hunter,” where the trigger of the firearm (held to the victim’s head) would be pulled but without the victim knowing if a bullet was inside (McWilliams & McKiernan, 1993). Comparing these findings with those from the 2016 study, however, it appears that the end of the conflict and, crucially, the disarmament processes in Northern Ireland have had a positive impact by reducing the availability and use of firearms in IPV situations. Although there is no quantitative data to ascertain the prevalence of firearms among the 1992 study participants, their presence and impact was recorded as a main feature of the study. By 2016, only two participants (3.8%) reported the use of firearms in IPV situations, indicating that the prevalence of use had decreased between the studies. The findings also reveal a shift in police attitudes and responses toward firearms in IPV situations. In the 1992 study, participants reported that the police were reluctant to remove “personal protection” firearms and/or removed them only temporarily, returning them the next day. This is in contrast to what is recounted by each of the two participants in the 2016 study, who reported that firearms were immediately removed by the police, and not returned when they contacted them. One potential explanation for this relates to the improvements to policing of IPV in Northern Ireland, although an alternative explanation may simply be that the changes to the security situation in Northern Ireland mean that police officers or those working for the security services no longer see the need to take personal protection firearms home as was the case during the conflict. The results underscore the significant impact of disarmament and demobilization processes for victims of IPV, which often gets little attention in negotiations or in policy and practice that follows (Vanessa, 2003).

While the results bring to light key changes that have occurred between the studies in terms of the prevalence of and police response to firearms, they also reveal certain similarities with regard to how firearms are used in IPV situations and their impact. Participants in both studies reported that firearms were used to threaten them and that their use increased their level of fear and anxiety. The following interview extracts from the 1992 and 2016 studies demonstrate this:

It was both mental and physical. You know, I am thinking of times when he would put a gun to my head, and play Russian Roulette with it, with me . . . but there was no physical harm done then. (McWilliams & McKiernan, 1993, p. 36)

He had the gun in the hot press and when I approached him about [something] . . . [he said] “if you don’t move from me . . . I’ll blow your brains out” and he kind of went to step up to take the gun. . . . Jesus, that certainly left me fearful. . . . I was too frightened after that, maybe even more cautious of saying anything in case you know . . . [sighs], it was more control over me. (Interview 17, March 2016)

The implications of a firearm for an individual’s capacity to resist, and crucially to seek assistance for violence, within an IPV relationship is also highlighted by the second extract. This finding reinforces findings from other studies, which show that the availability/use of firearms in IPV situations can decrease the likelihood of a victim reporting and thus a perpetrator being held to account for violence (Swaine, 2015).

Discussion and Conclusion

This article highlights the ways in which the transition from violent conflict to peaceful political settlement has shaped IPV in Northern Ireland focusing on the impact of the changes to policing, paramilitarism, and firearms. The findings are based on the first comparative examination of how the experiences of victims of IPV change in a society as it moves from conflict to peace, and the study is one among a few that have attempted to empirically decipher the relationship between violence in the public sphere (violent conflict) and IPV. While recognizing that violent conflicts within a society and IPV are deeply influenced by societal-level factors and that the findings from Northern Ireland are context-specific, they nevertheless corroborate key findings from other empirical studies suggesting that violent conflict is linked to IPV in concrete ways. Moreover, the research here reinforces the assessment that factors such as limited policing, the presence of paramilitary/armed groups, and increased availability of firearms create a distinct link between violent conflict and IPV (Erez et al., 2015; Guruge et al., 2017; McWilliams & Ní Aoláin, 2013; Swaine, 2015).

The most significant change from conflict to peace in the Northern Ireland case relates to police response to IPV, with increases in positive appraisals related to direct action such as arrests and official cautions. Moreover, in the post-conflict situation, participants from nationalist backgrounds were no longer distrustful of police or hesitant to contact them and police were in a much better position to respond to IPV victims. Conversely, the findings of the 1992 study and other studies of policing of IPV in conflict-affected and divided societies record high levels of mistrust between communities and the police in situations where a minority community feels little allegiance to an unrepresentative police service, which in turn limits the reporting of IPV crimes and access to protection (Erez et al., 2015; McWilliams & McKiernan, 1993; Swaine, 2015). That the introduction of a more representative police force¹⁵ as part of the peace agreement in Northern Ireland has had an impact on the ground is confirmed by the 2016 study findings that participants from nationalist communities no longer report that police did not respond to their calls and instead report that the police were a group they could go to for assistance. In this regard, the research implies that the significant increase in the number of incidents of IPV reported to the police in Northern Ireland since the end of the conflict is more likely a result of greater reporting of IPV following increased trust in and access to policing than an increase in actual IPV (McWilliams & Ní Aoláin, 2013; Swaine, 2015, 2018). This argument is further supported by an analysis of crime-reporting trends in Northern Ireland that found the greatest increase in crime reporting (note, not crime) was from nationalist/Catholic areas and by Swaine’s (2018) finding that increases in IPV reporting were particularly pronounced for nationalist/Catholic parts of Belfast. These findings are important as they contradict a prevailing view in the academic literature that IPV (and VAW) increases in the aftermath of a conflict (Swaine, 2018).

While a number of other factors have undoubtedly contributed to improvements in policing of IPV, including local and global shifts in criminal justice and societal attitudes over the decades, what this research tells us is that the transition from violent conflict to peaceful political settlement plays a pivotal role. The research reinforces the argument that the end of a conflict and crucially the reforms (institutional, legislative) as part of the new political settlement provide a unique opportunity to positively transform a society (Zinsstag, 2005). While the analysis presented here has focused on the consequences of the intended reforms to policing and specifically on the impact of the changes to its religious composition, an interesting avenue for further inquiry is how the unintended changes to the gender make-up¹⁶ following these reforms have shaped policing of IPV in Northern Ireland.

Demobilization of former paramilitary-style policing has also played a key role in limiting the power and control of paramilitary groups in conflicted communities. Greater access to and trust in police for participants from nationalist communities post-conflict has meant participants from nationalist communities no longer feel any need to contact paramilitary groups for assistance. While some continuity exists between the studies with perpetrators of IPV proclaiming an affiliation to a paramilitary group, their much-reduced influence has meant that this form of coercive control can no longer be exercised in the same way. The research also shows that the disarmament process has limited the use of both personal protection legally held and illegally held firearms in IPV relationships. Consequently, perpetrators of IPV are much less able to threaten their partners in this way.

These conclusions have several implications for policy for societies exiting violent conflict. First, the results underscore the important consequences of effective and balanced policing reforms for victims of IPV, particularly in societies where a conflict has an ethnic or sectarian basis. In the case of Northern Ireland, policing reform as part of the peace agreement with a more representative, transparent, and accountable police service has had a positive impact for victims of IPV. It should be kept in mind that these outcomes are not inevitable, and while the results from Northern Ireland have shown the positive implications of post-conflict policing reforms for victims of IPV, it remains the case that research findings from other post-conflict areas in which policing reforms were also a critical component of peace processes have not measured an improvement in policing responses to IPV in the same way (Muftić & Cruze, 2014). Within Northern Ireland, the creation of a more representative police force following the introduction of a quota system for police recruits and the re-orientation to community policing provide examples of what could potentially be drawn on by policy makers and those working in criminal justice systems making the transition from conflict to peace.

Second, the research highlights the importance of ensuring that in the various processes of DDR, the impact of militarism/paramilitarism and masculinity on women’s lives is also addressed. These issues are too often overlooked by policy makers, as exemplified by the Northern Ireland peace process where it was left to the women negotiators and women’s organizations to raise the importance of disarmament for women’s lives (McWilliams & Ní Aoláin, 2013; Waylen, 2014). A further outcome of this was the introduction of a protocol requiring police officers to keep their personal protection weapons at the workplace instead of taking them home. This accentuates the importance of involving women in peace negotiations and how their involvement can break down the presumed barriers between “ordinary” (IPV) and “extraordinary” (sexual violence by armed forces) violence (McWilliams & Ní Aoláin, 2013; Swaine, 2018; Waylen, 2014). Perhaps more than anything, the research points to the value of political settlements as pivotal points for wider societal transformation. It is therefore imperative that global policy makers increase their awareness of and attention to the terms and implications of political settlements, not only for victims of IPV, but also for all of society.

Footnotes

Declaration of Conflicting Interests

The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

Funding

The author(s) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: This article is an output of the Political Settlements Research Programme (PSRP), funded by UK Aid from the UK Department for International Development (DFID) for the benefit of developing countries. The information and views set out in this publication are those of the author. Nothing herein constitutes the view of the Department, or has been subject to input by the Department.

ORCID iD

Jessica Leigh Doyle

Notes

Author Biographies

Jessica Leigh Doyle is a postdoctoral research associate in the Transitional Justice Institute (TJI) at Ulster University. She researches and has published on issues of intimate partner violence, civil society and democratization, and Turkey. She has also engaged in policy work on these issues, most recently co-authoring a Department of Justice Northern Ireland commissioned report “Addressing Domestic and Sexual Violence and Abuse: Identifying Best Practice.” She is currently working on a U.K. Department for International Development (DfID)–funded longitudinal study exploring the relationship between violent political conflict and intimate partner violence in Northern Ireland.

Monica McWilliams is Emeritus professor of women’s studies at Ulster University’s Transitional Justice Institute (TJI). Her publications focus on domestic violence, human rights, peace, and security. She was the chief commissioner for human rights, a signatory to the Belfast/Good Friday Agreement, and a member of the Legislative Assembly representing the Northern Ireland Women’s Coalition. She is the chairperson of Interpeace, an international nongovernmental organization (NGO) involved in conflict resolution and is a recipient of the John F. Kennedy Profile in Courage award, as well as an honorary doctorate from the University of York in 2018 for her work on domestic violence and peace building.

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