Divorce - Do women win too much?

For divorcing wives, England is now seen as by far the most generous country in Europe, with some la

The unique sympathy bestowed by English judges on women in the throes of marriage breakdown has led to thousands of wives from other countries flocking to London to have their divorce cases heard here. While other European countries expect women to return to work and support themselves after the breakdown of a marriage, England has experienced a counter-feminist revolution in recent years. It has become normal here for women to lay claim to all the assets their husbands have brought to the marriage, and even future earnings, as well as being supported by them for the rest of their lives

The situation has spawned a vast legal industry. We have no fewer than 11,000 solicitors specialising in marital disputes, and of the annual 150,000 divorces that go through English courts, 24,000 - or one in six - now involve couples from other countries where the disgruntled partner, usually the wife, has managed to spring the petition here in order to get the best deal.

Now all that is set to change with a massive upheaval being proposed from Brussels and due to come into force next year. The European Commission has put forward a controversial new legal framework to streamline attitudes to adultery and maintenance across Europe. It wants to end divorce "tourism" and prevent disgruntled spouses shopping for a court hearing in England. Although Britain is still calling for amendments to the proposals, the Brussels timescale decrees that the changes should come into force at the beginning of 2008.

Specialist lawyers predict that the new regulation, known as Rome III, will highlight the gulf between how divorce is dealt with in England compared with everywhere else. The regulation introduces the concept of "applicable law", mean ing that many people born and married elsewhere would not have access to an English-style divorce. The intention is to introduce greater consistency in the treatment of divorcees through out the European Union. English divorce court judges will thus be compelled to abandon any misty-eyed compassion for women and fall into step with other countries in order to stamp out the pressure from divorce shoppers.

In recent years, a number of lurid public div orce cases have attracted the headlines. The wife of the celebrity golfer Colin Montgomerie received a £15m divorce settlement, and a court ruled that the wife of the Middlesbrough soccer star Ray Parlour was entitled to a one-third share of his future earnings to reflect her early role in promoting his talents. Last year, the House of Lords ruled that financier's wife Melissa Miller was entitled to £5m - a quarter of her husband's fortune - in compensation for a failed marriage lasting under three years, and despite the fact she had a career of her own. At the same time, Julia McFarlane was awarded annual payments for life of £250,000 from her ex-husband to compensate her for the successful legal career she would have had, had she not got married and raised a family.

But it is not just the wives of very rich men who do well. A survey published last year by the accountants Grant Thornton revealed that the average "pot of wealth" to be divided on divorce stood at £1m in 2005. Non-working wives generally got 53 per cent of it. "England is seen as the most 'divorce friendly' jurisdiction for women," said Andrea McLaren, the firm's senior specialist in marital settlements. "There are increasing numbers of people who have holiday homes and other assets abroad. The situation is complex and we would welcome EU-wide divorce rules."

The rest of Europe has got on with implementing the principles of feminism and equality, for which generations of women have fought long and hard. When couples split up, the general view is that pay-offs to wives, entirely separate from maintenance for children, should be along the lines of redundancy - a bit of a cushion to help with adapting to a new lifestyle. Laws are generally fairly tightly drawn, reducing the scope for argument. In England, however, the discretion allowed to judges means that case law comes to reflect the prevailing opinion.

It was the White v White ruling in 2000 which is deemed to have established new rules giving women a 50:50 entitlement to marital property. Pamela and Martin White, who had run a farm together, had been married for 33 years. Mrs White was offered £800,000 when the marriage ended, but the law lords decreed the sum should be increased to £1.5m.

Since then, the notion of equality seems to have been subsumed in the drive for women to present themselves as victims. When it comes to divorce, they are being seen here as largely incapable of supporting themselves, and are laying claim to inherited wealth, and the fruits of any previous career success their husband has brought to the marriage, in a way that would be unlawful in neighbouring European member states.

"You just have to look at who judges are," said William Longrigg, a solicitor who has regularly acted in cases where couples are fighting over assets worth millions. "They are part of the establishment, largely male, and drawn from a narrow social class. They still hold the view that women need to be protected. Other people may consider that paternalistic or patronising, but old habits die hard. Because they are allowed to operate so much discretion in divorce cases, we get all sorts of strange decisions." Like many of his legal colleagues, Longrigg believes an overhaul of the divorce laws is long overdue.

The latest high-profile case to make waves was the break-up of the television personality Chris Tarrant and his wife Ingrid. Their divorce last week followed revelations that Tarrant, 60, had a protracted affair. Tarrant is understood to be handing over half of his £10m property portfolio, plus £5m in lieu of maintenance payments, to compensate his wife for the failure of their 15-year marriage."I am deeply sorry for the hurt I have caused my loyal wife and wonderful children," Tarrant said in a statement issued last year. "I have only myself to blame for the breakdown of my marriage."

He may well have been happy to take the responsibility, but such a generous settlement would be unlikely even in countries such as Greece and Italy where gender roles would appear to be more traditional than ours. Their legal systems assume maintenance for ex-wives will be short-term. Most other regimes also assume women are capable of working once a toddler reaches three, while in countries such as Sweden, it is only available during a "transition period" to find work or undertake training. In Denmark, maintenance payments for ex-wives are a rarity. Other countries, including Belgium, Germany and France, also take the view that any assets acquired by the man before the beginning of the marriage remain his when the marriage ends. Prenuptial agreements decreeing the division of assets should the couple split up are still not recognised in England, but are binding in countries across Europe from France and Spain to Poland and the Czech Republic.

Of the 2.2 million marriages taking place an nually across the European Union, almost a fifth involve partners from different countries. The international divorce rate is not far behind, with 16 per cent of the 875,000 failed marriages involving couples from different countries.

Last month, the constitutional affairs minister Harriet Harman gave a speech in Brussels pointing out the urgent need for the European Commission to come up with new workable rules that could be applied despite differences in countries' legal codes. "It is important that family justice works across different European countries," she declared. "It is essential the commission brings forward proposals on which we can all agree."

If the changes are to work, however, English divorce legislation - or its interpretation - will have to change to bring us into line with Europe. Otherwise, lawyers say there will merely be fresh rounds of legal battles by wives arguing for the right of access to London's gilded divorce courts. Unhappy corporate wives have been known to confide how they deliberately lured their husbands to jobs in London, in the knowledge that after six months' residence they will qualify to present a divorce petition here. "We call it the race to court," said Anna Worwood of the law firm Manches. "It is well known that our system is favourable. The idea is you get your petition in first and claim a lot of maintenance from the courts here, before the husband launches proceedings in a less favourable jurisdiction."

Yet for many divorcees, the implication that they are seeking to "fine" ex-husbands is deeply offensive. A 43-year-old former solicitor and mother-of-two, who has just emerged from a protracted court battle with her ex-husband, said: "I do feel bitter. He was the one having an affair. I tried to save the marriage, I gave up my career to give him an easier life. If things had gone his way, I would have been left with almost nothing. I don't think it has anything to do with notions of feminism. It is fairness. It would be more to the point to bring European systems in line with ours."

Cate Briddick, a barrister from the pressure group Rights of Women, said the recent high-profile divorce decisions merely recognised the principles of equality between the partners in a marriage. "Until now, married women have suffered a huge disadvantage," she said. "The partners should come to a marriage as equals and should be treated as equals when they leave it. If you don't want that kind of relationship, you don't marry."

A spokesman for the Department for Constitutional Affairs said last week that Harriet Harman is due to attend a series of further meetings in Brussels to search for common ground in the divorce minefield. Although there is certainty that change will come, he acknowledged that, like divorce itself, the negotiations are likely to involve a bitter battle.

Tour divorce: how Europeans do it
Research by Lucy Knight

Denmark
Maintenance is not common in Denmark, and when granted it does not normally last more than ten years. In England, chances of gaining maintenance for life increased after the 2006 McFarlane case, in which the wife received £250,000 for life.

France
Maintenance for the wife can be claimed if she conceived during the marriage; it is paid until the child turns three. But all maintenance depends on the obligated spouse's financial ability to pay. Pre-marital assets and inherited wealth are excluded.

Spain
Most of Spain splits assets acquired during marriage equally. In Catalonia, however, these do not have to be shared. Maintenance depends upon factors including length of marriage, health, employment prospects and the parties' skills.

Sweden
In principle, all marital property is to be divided equally between the husband and wife. Anything acquired before marriage is subject to any pre-nuptial agreement. Ex-spouses are expected to support themselves, though maintenance may be awarded for a transitional period.

Scotland
Often seen as "mean" for its 50:50 division of matrimonial property, regardless of the length of the marriage. Still, inherited assets and assets acquired prior to marriage are excluded. Also, maintenance is usually paid for only three years from divorce unless there are exceptional circumstances.

This article first appeared in the 19 February 2007 issue of the New Statesman, Iran - Ready to attack

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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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