How a man who hacked his wife and kids to death in a horrific murder-suicide was painted as the victim of the story… and he’s not the only one

NOT long after the bodies were discovered, the tributes started to pour in.

Alan Hawe – an Irish primary school vice-principal found dead alongside his wife and their three young sons in their home in County Cavan, Ireland,  – was a pillar of the community, the papers said.

Locals called him a “brilliant dad” and “the most normal man you could meet”.

Media reports fawned over his love of sports, how active he was on the local council, what a gentleman he was and how often he went to church.

But Hawe, 41, wasn’t a victim.

On August 25 this year, he brutally stabbed his wife Clodagh, a 39-year-old teacher, in their living room.

Then, carrying a hatchet and knife, he walked upstairs and murdered their three sons Liam, 13, Niall, 11, and six-year-old Ryan as they lay in their beds.

Having hacked his family to death, he wrote a note explaining that he had taken their lives because he believed that they couldn’t live without him.
Then he hanged himself.

As horrific details of the murder began to emerge – such as the fact little Ryan had defensive wounds, suggesting he was awake and had tried to fight off his father – the media coverage continued to focus on Hawe.

What could have made him snap? Had he suffered in silence with mental health issues? What could be done to help people like him?

Meanwhile, Clodagh vanished into the background.

News reports ran pictures of Hawe and their sons, but none of his wife.

Even her own mother was referred to as Hawe’s “mother-in-law”.

Clodagh became invisible in the story of her own murder.

“This case is a particularly grotesque example of something that happens very often – the men who kill their wives or partners and then kill themselves are treated as victims, not perpetrators,” says Jean Calder, director of For Our Daughters, a charity that works to end violence against women.

“The real victims are ignored or presented by police and the media as participants in a ‘family tragedy’. The main focus is directed on the man’s perceived ‘stress’ and his valued contribution to society. There is a comfortable assumption that his violence was uncharacteristic.”

Three days after the Hawe murders, the backlash erupted.

The hashtag #HerNameIsClodagh began trending on Twitter, and Dublin-based writer Linnea Dunne wrote an impassioned blog post entitled “Rest In Peace, Invisible Woman” which quickly went viral, slamming how Alan Hawe had become the star of the show and Clodagh remained a footnote.

“The way in which Alan Hawe was portrayed was really problematic,” says Linnea.

“It was like a tribute to him, with no mention of Clodagh. With two young children, I don’t get the chance to blog much any more – but suddenly I had the urge to write about this.

“After I published it, messages poured in, commending me for saying what most people were thinking. Some people accused me of using the murder to further my ‘feminist agenda’, but that’s just another symptom of the problem. There’s a culture of silence, where talking about such violence is taboo.”

In the reporting of the County Cavan murder, few – if any – questions were asked about whether there might have been a history of domestic abuse in the Hawe family.

Research shows, however, that murder-suicides are often the culmination of escalating violence.

One study revealed that 91% of these crimes are committed by men, and in 70% of cases there was previous partner abuse.

“The reality is that extreme violence like this has not perhaps come out of the blue but could be part of a long-standing pattern of controlling behaviour and threats – often threats to kill,” explains Jean.

“Murder is the ultimate act of control, and society’s failure to speak out about it shows contempt for victims of domestic violence, who have been given the message that if their abuser threatens to kill them, as so many do, he can carry out his threat without a stain on his character.”

According to Polly Neate, CEO of Women’s Aid in the UK, the reporting of the Hawe murder-suicide reveals a much wider problem, in which domestic violence as a whole tends to be minimised and excused by society.

“If Alan Hawe had walked out into the road and killed a random woman and children, there would have been uproar. Instead, we saw some people closing ranks around a man who was seemingly entitled to do what he did,” she says.

“However well-meaning people intend to be, they sometimes bend over backwards to explain the perpetrator’s actions. It stops us seeing domestic violence murders as a conscious choice that someone has made. This case was very stark and particularly shocking as it was so close to home, but there are instances of it everywhere.”

UK cases where women appear to have been erased from the story of their own murder include Lance Hart’s killing of his wife Claire, 50, and daughter Charlotte, 19, who he murdered with a single-barrel shotgun in Spalding, Lincolnshire, in July.

In the immediate aftermath, coverage included eulogies about what a lovely man Hart was and sympathetic speculation that he had simply struggled to cope in the wake of his marriage breaking down.

There were no such tributes to either Charlotte or Claire.

The October 2014 murders of Duksha Lad, 44, and her daughters Trisha, 19, and Nisha, 17, were disturbingly similar.

They were stabbed in their beds by Jitendra Lad – Duksha’s husband and the girls’ father – who then hanged himself.

When reported in the news, the focus was on what a pillar of the community Jitendra had been.

A watersports fanatic who worked for Bradford council, he was also chairman of the local grammar school fund-raising group.

One police statement mentioned the “deaths of a local family” rather than the killing of three women.

Similarly, with the murder of Jennifer Phelps, 64, strangled by her husband John, also 64, who then killed himself by jumping off the cliffs at Beachy Head in March 2011, news reports carried no information about Jennifer at all.

At the inquest, Sussex Police said: “This was a tragic situation in which a very proud man, who hitherto had dearly loved his wife, killed her through his perceived despair of the financial situation they found themselves in. Instead of seeking help or letting others know the extent of the problems, he took the terrible decision to murder her and kill himself.”

When quoted in a local paper, the police’s statement led to a slew of online comments suggesting Jennifer must have been the cause of their financial difficulties.

Killing an extravagant woman is “understandable”, people said, and her death should be a warning to other wives.

“It’s not unusual for homicides followed by suicide to be referred to as ‘tragic’, as if there’s an equivalence between the death of an unwilling and innocent victim and the death of a killer who chose to kill and then chose to die,” says Jean.

“The reporting of this case was remarkable because of the apparent lack of interest in Mrs Phelps herself and the 64 years of her life.”

But women don’t just become invisible in murder-suicides.

Despite the fact that in England and Wales one woman is killed every three days by a partner or an ex, the vast majority are barely even commented on.

“So many murders are reported as isolated instances – the public are told that a woman was killed, a man has been arrested and police are not looking for anyone else in connection with the incident,” says Polly Neate.

“It’s not framed as a domestic violence murder, because people don’t want to face up to how great the problem is.”

In response, Women’s Aid – along with the London-based domestic violence charity Nia Project – has created the Femicide Census.

Launched in February 2015, the online database documents and records every single woman murdered in Britain.

Its aim is to show the scale and significance of violence against women and to give faces and names to all the invisible victims.

Between January and September this year, 92 women were killed by a man, or a man is the main suspect. In 2015, the death toll stood at 127.

“We need to take active measures to ensure men can’t harm women,” says Polly.

“This means talking about the issue openly and recognising how big the problem is, which is what the Femicide Census will do.”

In County Cavan and throughout Ireland, shockwaves from the Hawe murders are still being felt.

Women’s Aid in Ireland has reported a spike in the number of women ringing its domestic violence helpline, terrified they will be the next victims.

And newspaper columnists and media commentators wonder if the furore will have any lasting impact on how domestic violence is perceived and reported from now on.

“It sparked a conversation,” says Linnea.

“And that can only be a positive thing. Time will tell how other female victims are treated in the media but, for now at least, Clodagh’s story has been told. She’s not invisible any more.”

Meanwhile, Clodagh’s family are struggling to move on from their devastating loss. Throughout it all, they remained silent, until last month, when a relative (who chose to remain anonymous) finally decided to speak out.

“[Clodagh] was a lovely, kind and funny girl when we were growing up – she loved people,” they said.