War of the widows

One in five life insurance claims is refused by the insurers, often on technicalities. Here, Juliet

When my 47-year-old husband, Nikolai, died of cancer he left me and our three dependent children with a £146,000 mortgage and a £250,000 life insurance policy to tide us over the next few difficult years. He died knowing his family would be cared for by Scottish Widows. Six weeks later, regarded by psychologists as the lowest point following bereavement, the insurance company sent me a letter refusing to pay the claim, citing "non-disclosure of material facts".

I was faced with repossession of the house and moving the children (aged nine, 12 and 15) out of their schools and away from friends. My friends told me to put the insurance issue behind me and move on: who was I, a housewife with a part-time job, to take on a huge corporation? But I knew my husband of 20 years to be an honest man. He would never have deliberately withheld medical information.

I, too, had been at the meeting where a Lloyds TSB adviser (Scottish Widows is the bank's life and pensions subsidiary business) had completed our application form for us on her laptop. So what had gone wrong?

Nikolai told her he had been suffering from unexplained fevers for about three months, but that they had recently stopped and he believed he had recovered. Hospital tests and scans had come back negative but he was due to go for more. The adviser, probably accidentally rather than intentionally (though commissions for policies can run into thousands of pounds), wrongly recorded that his fevers had ceased almost a year before our meeting rather than a month before. She also failed to detail the hospital tests. In fact, she made a number of glaring errors on the three-page computer printout application, including wrongly identifying us both as smokers, spelling our address and our names incorrectly, transposing vital dates and giving one-word answers about medical conditions where the form sought "full details".

We were given no opportunity to see the form, which was sent electronically to the Scottish Widows underwriting system immediately. We were then asked to sign a declaration saying we had read through the form and agreed with its content and to sign against our wrongly spelt names. We were told that the completed application form would be sent to us in the post.

I later discovered that it was never meant to be printed out let alone seen by us. Incredibly, the £250,000 contract came into effect three months later with our names still wrongly spelt. I was outraged when the company dismissed this as part of "a few typographical errors".

The automatic underwriting process loaded Nikolai's premiums by 75 per cent with no explanation and no further medical inquiries. Meanwhile, Nikolai naturally presumed this was because Scottish Widows had taken out a GP report following his disclosure of ongoing tests for his former fevers - and also because he had told the adviser he wasn't in good health. Yet it was only when the claim was made that the company decided it required a GP report and then began looking for evidence of non-disclosure - irrespective of whether it was linked to his death. This common practice is odious and devastating for the policyholder.

In fact, one in five life insurance claims is not met because of this kind of "post-claim underwriting". We knew none of this at the time and completely trusted the adviser and the underwriting system. Nikolai, Russian by birth, was an internationally acclaimed photojournalist and had seen a great deal of global corruption. He wanted to bring his children up in an honest, moral society with rules by which both corporations and public abide. He believed that Britain was such a society and would have trusted implicitly a big-brand insurance company.

But, like many insurance companies, Scottish Widows had abandoned its mutual status to become a public company whose sole responsibility is to maximise profits for shareholders at the expense of policyholders. The iconic, caped Scottish widow is just a PR path to profits now. Yet, ironically, the company was originally set up to protect real young widows during the Napoleonic Wars.

Like 548,337 other people that year, I took my case to the financial ombudsman. This service has seen a general upsurge in complaints from people like myself. It took me three years of intense internet research, mounds of paperwork and many weekends and evenings, time that should have been spent with the children.

The company was determined to see me off. I was forced to sell our family home and move to Somerset. Eventually, to my immense relief, three years after my initial complaint, the ombudsman finally upheld my case, finding that, "although the firm's decision to cover the complainant's husband may have been due to a mistake, this mistake cannot be attributed to the complainant's husband; in my judgement, it is attributable to its own automated underwriting processes and data entry error by its agent".

This system of selling policies has now been changed industry-wide, says Scottish Widows. After the final ruling in my favour on 17 August it issued the following statement, which it reiterated to the NS: "In June 2004, Scottish Widows received a life policy claim following the death of Mr Ignatiev. In July 2004 this claim was declined. We do not take lightly the decision to decline a claim, but in this case we were, and still are, of the view that there was material non-disclosure of relevant information. We recognise the important role of the Financial Ombudsman Service in such cases and have always maintained we will accept the final FOS ruling. This final ruling was received on 17 August 2007 and, as a result, we will be settling the claim."

Since Nikolai's death I have uncovered many pitiful and heart-rending stories, where bereaved or terminally ill people have been refused what was rightfully theirs.

Jan Trainer appealed to the ombudsman when her 43-year-old husband Dave was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Scottish Widows refused to pay out, relying on the innocent non-disclosure of an unrelated medical condition. "It's a blatant and cruel use of a technicality to renege on an agreement," says Jan. "As a solicitor, I am up against insurance companies on a daily basis; my work involves obtaining compensation for individuals injured in often very serious accidents. It never ceases to amaze me what tactics are used to avoid meeting their obligation to victims. And the people who have to take on these powerful companies are mostly vulnerable individuals already crippled with emotional pain."

It took the ombudsman's office only three days to uphold Jan and Dave's complaint.

Jerry and Rosemary Horsman, both farmers, were devastated when their daughter Alice was crushed in a farm accident, leaving two small children. Scottish Widows denied her claim because of innocent non-disclosure of a medical condition. Her parents took the case to the ombudsman, but had to battle for two and a half years for justice. "What still horrifies me," says Jerry, "is that the 2001 application form was ludicrously flawed. It was a cheap and cheerful policy to scoop up premiums.

"The inadequate application process makes it ridiculously easy for companies to cherry-pick medical evidence in order to wriggle out of paying. It's shocking to think how many of us are living in a fools' paradise thinking we have cover when we don't."

The ombudsman looks at what is fair and reasonable as opposed to the strict letter of archaic law. However, the Law Commission is now reviewing the 100-year-old insurance law and forward-looking judges, such as Lord Eassie (former chairman of the Scottish Law Commission), are aligning themselves with the ombudsman in recognising that the law is heavily biased against the consumer. Last year, Valerie Cuthbertson, a theatre manager, won a landmark ruling in court when Lord Eassie ruled that Friends Provident was wrong in denying her critical illness cover. Her appeal to the ombudsman had not been upheld but she fought on with the help of legal aid and won through the courts.

We are being mugged by the corporate world. Perhaps ordinary individuals who stand up against the big corporations are the have-a-go-heroes of personal finance.

Do we make a difference? I would certainly like to think so.

548,337 number of complaints each year to insurance ombudsman

1 in 10 UK adults admit to having cheated on an insurance claim

52% of people fail to check life policy details to ensure they have adequate cover

1st reason for life assurance after age 60 is to minimise inheritance-tax liability

70% of insurance sales included hidden extras of which customer oblivious

49% of people never know precisely what they have insurance for

10% rise in complaints about insurance to ombudsman in the year to 2006/2007

£750,000 paid in fines by one insurer after flaws in handling complaints

Research by Jo Barrett

This article first appeared in the 17 September 2007 issue of the New Statesman, How the Americans misled Blair over Iraq

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Inside the minds of the Isis murderers

As pressure on the terror group who claimed responsiblity for the Manchester attack intensifies, the threat to Britain will only become more acute.

The police and security services had consistently warned that a significant terrorist attack in Britain was inevitable. Yet no warning could have prepared us for the horror of the suicide attack on the Manchester Arena on Monday night. Twenty-two people were killed and at least 60 were wounded as they were leaving a concert by Ariana Grande in what was the most deadly attack in Britain since the London bombings of 7 July 2005, in which 56 people died.

Like the London bombers, the Manchester suicide attacker, Salman Ramadan Abedi, was British. He was 22, lived in Manchester and studied business management at Salford University before dropping out. He worshipped at Didsbury Mosque. The son of Libyans, Abedi is said to have returned recently from a visit to the North African country, where Islamic State has a foothold.

Ariana Grande is a former children’s TV star who made her name on channels such as Nickelodeon. Her fan base is overwhelmingly young and female, and many of those killed or wounded were children, including Saffie Rose Roussos, an eight-year-old girl from Leyland, Lancashire.

Islamic State inevitably claimed responsibility for the massacre, dismissing the victims as “crusaders”, “polytheists” and “worshippers of the cross”. This is not the first time Islamist terrorists have targeted children.

A Chechen jihadist group calling itself ­Riyad-us Saliheen (meaning “Gardens of the Righteous”) took more than 1,100 hostages, including 777 children, in a school siege in Beslan, Russia, in September 2004. In the event, more than 330 were massacred, including 186 children. Gunmen from the Pakistani Taliban also stormed a school in 2014, killing 148.

For terrorist actors, these are neither whimsical nor irrational acts. Contemporary jihadist movements have curated a broad and expansive intellectual ecosystem that rationalises and directs their actions. What they want is to create an asymmetry of fear by employing indiscriminate barbarism to intimidate and subdue their opponents into submission.

We have grown accustomed to a wave of terrorist attacks being carried out in the name of the self-styled Islamic State ever since the group’s official spokesman Abu Muhammad al-Adnani began prioritising them in 2014. (He was killed in an American air strike on Aleppo province in Syria in August last year.)

The US-led coalition against Islamic State has weakened the terror group in its former strongholds of Mosul in Iraq and Raqqa in Syria. In response, IS has been forced to concentrate more on what it calls “external operations” – by which it means inspiring its sympathisers and operatives to carry out attacks on Western countries. Indeed, al-Adnani encouraged the group’s supporters not to migrate towards IS-held territory but rather to focus their efforts on attacks in their home countries.

“The tiniest action you do in the heart of their [Western] land is dearer to us than the biggest action by us,” he said in an audio statement released last year. “There are no innocents in the heart of the lands of the crusaders.”

Islamic State refers to its strategy as “just terror”. Its framing places culpability for attacks on Western states on these nations themselves by claiming that IS actions are a response to aggression or assault. That much has been outlined in the group’s literature. “When will the crusaders end their hostilities towards Islam and the Muslims? . . . When will they recognise that the solution to their pathetic turmoil is right before their blinded eyes?” the militants ask in the IS magazine Dabiq. “Until then, the just terror will continue to strike them to the core of their deadened hearts.”

IS offered a rationale of this sort as justification for its bombing of a Russian commercial aircraft – Metrojet Flight 9268, travelling from Sharm el-Sheikh in Egypt to St Petersburg. That attack in October 2015 killed 224. Similar reasoning was offered for the attacks in Paris the following month in which 137 people were killed, in a series of co-ordinated, commando-style gun and bomb outrages across the city.

“Revenge was exacted upon those who felt safe,” IS declared in Dabiq. “Let the world know that we are living today in a new era. Whoever was heedless must now be alert. Whoever was sleeping must now awaken . . . The [caliphate] will take revenge for any aggression against its religion and people, sooner rather than later. Let the ­arrogant know that the skies and the lands are Allah’s.”

***

Through my academic research at King’s College London, I have ­interviewed scores of Westerners who became foreign fighters in Syria and Iraq to quiz them about their motives. Last year, one man from High Wycombe who had joined IS told me that it wanted to attack British targets in response to the vote in the House of Commons to extend British air strikes against IS targets to include sites in Syria (the British had only been targeting the group in Iraq until that point). “Do they [the British government] expect us to sit back and do nothing? ­Idiots,” he said.

In this respect, IS frames its attacks as acts of “revenge” and predicates its response on the Islamic principle of qisas, which is comparable to lex talionis or the doctrine of “an eye for an eye”. Qisas was always intended to be a tool of private redress for an individual or his/her family to seek justice in matters relating to bodily harm. Typically, it relates to cases of murder and manslaughter, or acts involving physical mutilation (say, leading to loss of limbs). The principle creates a framework for retributive justice.

The contemporary Salafi-jihadi movement has adopted a particularly innovative approach to the concept of qisas in two ways. First, groups such as IS have taken the idea and construed it in a way that justifies indiscriminate terrorism, such as the attack in Manchester. They argue that qisas has a political dimension and that it can be applied to international affairs in a way that holds civilians responsible for the perceived crimes of their governments.

Second, qisas is normally applied only in cases where the aggressor is known. IS, by contrast, holds every citizen-stranger of an enemy state responsible for the actions of his or her government. Thus, when it released its statement claiming responsibility for the Manchester attack, it said that it had struck against a “gathering of the crusaders . . . in response to their transgressions against the lands of the Muslims”.

It is this militaristic construction of qisas that allows IS to rationalise the bombing of a venue where large numbers of young girls had gathered to watch a pop concert, dismissing them as “crusaders”.

This is not new. In 1997, Osama Bin Laden told CBS News that “all Americans are our enemies, not just the ones who fight us directly, but also the ones who pay their ­taxes”. His rationale was that all Americans, by virtue of citizenship alone, are vicariously liable for the actions of their government.

Just a few years later, Bin Laden used the same idea to justify the 11 September 2001 attacks and also invoked it in reference to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. “The blood pouring out of Palestine must be equally revenged,” he wrote. “You must know that the Palestinians do not cry alone; their women are not widowed alone; their sons are not orphaned alone.”

IS used the concept most dramatically in January 2015, when it burned alive a Royal Jordanian Air Force pilot, Muath al-Kasasbeh, whose plane had crashed in its territory. A video of the killing was circulated on the internet and social media. The group claimed his bombing raids had killed civilians and that it wanted to punish him with “equal retaliation”, in keeping with qisas.

What is well known about al-Kasasbeh’s murder is that he was burned alive inside a cage – but that is not the whole story. To understand how IS tethered this to the principle of qisas, it is the end of the gruesome video that is invested with most significance. After al-Kasasbeh has died, a truck emerges and dumps rubble over the cage. It was claimed this was debris from a site he had bombed, thus completing the “equal retaliation” of returning like for like. The idea was that IS had retaliated using the two principal forms in which a missile attack kills – by fire or debris.

***

The Manchester attack came on the fourth anniversary of the brutal murder of Fusilier Lee Rigby in Woolwich, south London. Rigby was killed by Michael Adebolajo and Michael Adebowale in the middle of the afternoon on a street outside a military barracks. That attack was in keeping with a pattern we have become increasingly accustomed to in Europe: an unsophisticated plot that employs ordinary, everyday items – a car, say, or a knife.

The consequences of such attacks have been seen across Europe, most notably in Nice on 14 July 2016, when 86 people were killed during Bastille Day celebrations after a jihadist drove a truck into crowds on the promenade. Similar attacks followed in Berlin, Westminster and Stockholm.

The security services find that these murderous attacks are extremely hard to disrupt because they typically involve lone actors who can mobilise quickly and with discretion. The Manchester attack was different. Explosives were used, which means the plot was inherently more sophisticated, requiring careful planning and preparation.

We know that two of the 7/7 bombers had previously trained in Pakistan’s lawless tribal regions, where they honed their skills. In other plots, such as the connected attacks in London and Glasgow Airport of 2007, the explosive devices failed mainly because the bomb-makers had found it difficult to travel abroad and develop their skills in safe environments. Whatever Abedi’s connections, the long war in Syria and Iraq has once again created a permissive environment for terrorist training and attack planning.

The devastating impact of this has already been felt across Europe. Since the Syrian uprising began in 2011, more than 800 Britons are believed to have travelled there to fight. From Europe as a whole, the figure is over 5,000, of which a significant number are believed to have joined IS. Of the British contingent, the security services estimate that about half have returned or become disengaged from the conflict. Of those who remained, a hundred are believed to be active, the rest having been killed.

It is improbable that Abedi acted alone in Manchester or that this plot had no international component. Indeed, he was already known to the authorities (and had returned recently from Libya). As pressure on IS intensifies across Syria and Iraq, the threat to Britain will only become more acute as the group’s sympathisers prepare for what they consider to be a fightback.

This speaks to the scale of the threat facing Britain, and Europe more generally. Our police and security services have been stretched and continuously tested in recent years. Just recently, in March, the Metropolitan Police assistant commissioner Mark Rowley told Radio 4’s Today programme that 13 plots had been thwarted since Lee Rigby’s murder in 2013. Put another way, the police have disrupted terrorist plots every four months for the past four years.

Naturally, Islamic State is not the only threat. On 13 May, one of Osama Bin Laden’s sons, Hamza, released a video, titled “Advice for martyrdom-seekers in the West”, on behalf of al-Qaeda. Hamza, 27, who was his father’s favoured successor to lead the group, called on its supporters to concentrate on attacks in the West rather than migrating to conflict zones in the Middle East and beyond. Scenes of previous ­terrorist attacks in Britain played throughout the video.

The central leadership of al-Qaeda is increasingly looking for opportunities to reassert itself after being eclipsed by Islamic State and losing control of its affiliates in Syria. It needs attacks and a cause in the West with which to revive itself. Hamza therefore cited the January 2015 Charlie Hebdo attack in Paris as a critical example, calling for the assassination of anyone deemed to have “insulted” Islam.

The Charlie Hebdo attack was especially important for al-Qaeda because it enabled the group to transcend the fratricidal conflicts that frequently define relations between the various jihadist groups. In Syria, for instance, al-Qaeda’s affiliates (when it had better control over them) and Islamic State have been in open war with each other.

Yet, the Charlie Hebdo attack brought warm praise from the group’s Islamist rivals because none of them wanted to appear ­unsupportive of an atrocity that had, as the terrorists proclaimed, “avenged” the Prophet Muhammad’s honour.

The British man from High Wycombe who joined IS told me the group had welcomed the attack for precisely those reasons. It was something that, in his view, had confirmed the “nobility” of the attackers, even if they had not been members of IS.

Is it too late for the West to save itself, I asked him. What if the West simply accepted all of Islamic State’s demands: would that provide respite?

The answer was as emphatic as it was stark: “We primarily fight wars due to ppl [sic] being disbelievers. Their drones against us are a secondary issue.”

He went on: “Their kufr [disbelief] against Allah is sufficient of a reason for us to invade and kill them. Only if they stop their kufr will they no longer be a target.”

In other words, we are all guilty, and we are all legitimate targets.

Shiraz Maher is a contributing writer for the New Statesman and a senior research fellow at King’s College London’s International Centre for the Study of Radicalisation.

This article first appeared in the 25 May 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Why Islamic State targets Britain

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