
MPs were given the chance to debate the government’s controversial plans to grant anonymity to rape suspects. As Vera Baird and Kate Green have argued before on ProgressOnline, and as I argued in my adjournment debate a month ago, these dangerous and ill-thought through plans send out a clear message that victims of rape, uniquely, are not to be believed which will discourage women from reporting their attacks and stop the police bringing dangerous offenders to justice.
The title of the debate – defendant anonymity – made no reference to rape, which gave us some hope that the government might have rowed back, and decided not to single out rape cases. And there may well be a case for looking at whether anyone accused of any criminal offence should have their identity protected before they are charged. But the justice minister Crispin Blunt gave the game away early on, saying:
“This is about the crime of rape”
That provoked anger across the Commons. Meg Munn drew on her experience as a social worker, and Anna Soubry and Sarah Wollaston from the Conservative benches drew on theirs as a criminal barrister and a forensic medical examiner to explain just how many problems the plans would cause. Nia Griffith explained why the plans would stop women coming forward and Geraint Davies questioned how they would help realise the government’s stated aim of improving the conviction rate in rape cases. Glenda Jackson challenged the government on what this would say to victims of rape, Stella Creasy and Chi Onwurah drew on powerful examples from their own constituencies and Maria Eagle forensically tore through the haphazard way in which this policy emerged with ministers saying different things from one day to the next.
What the debate showed, then, was the strength of opposition to the plans – not just on the Labour benches, but right across the house, including on the Tory side. These weren’t the usual suspects, or backbenchers aggrieved at finding the jobs they were expecting had been taken by their Lib Dem rivals; they were new elected MPs opposing their own government within weeks of being elected. Nicola Blackwood pointed out that the much-cited home affairs report in 2003 didn’t recommend singling out rape and Louise Bagshawe tried to give her government a way out, but they simply weren’t interested.
Responding for the government was the junior justice minister Jonathan Djanogly and his partner in crime was the hapless Crispin Blunt of Newsnight fame. In five hours, neither could muster a single explanation why rape suspects need protecting more than anyone accused of any other serious, violent or sexual crime.
The best reason they could come up with was that a crossbench peer in the House of Lords, now sadly deceased, once said it was a good idea. Hardly a compelling case for what is, by anyone’s standards, a major reform to our criminal justice system.
Nor did Jonathan Djanogly’s assertion that because this was in the coalition agreement the government had some sort of divine right to enforce it have much sway. He said:
“What we are doing is delivering on coalition government promises… This is what we promised, and this is what we are going to do.”
What he forgot was that this policy didn’t actually appear in either party’s election manifesto and neither campaigned on it. So the public have never had a say.
What the debate exposed most of all, though, was the true nature of the government’s much-vaunted modern, progressive credentials. The government had a chance to make amends for a policy that was included in the coalition agreement with little time and even less thought. They missed that opportunity. But something tells me the fight isn’t over yet.