When 14 young women were brutally murdered in their university classroom on December 6, 1989, the incident became a symbol of violence against women for the whole nation. For many, it was the most extreme manifestation of misogyny ever witnessed, and the sheer volume was more than most people had the capacity to cope with. Yet when cases of violence against women are presented as isolated incidents, few bat an eye — not police, not journalists and not politicians.

Each year approximately 70 women in Canada are murdered by their male partners, according to the Canadian Centre for Justice Statistics. This far outweighs the 14 slain at the Ecole Polytechnique. One has only to open the paper to find the most recent incident of this widespread phenonemon of woman-hate. One week ago, the life of a 35-year-old Lasalle, Quebec woman was ended by her male partner. The story of her death appeared in last Monday’s Montreal Gazette, not on the front or even in the first few pages, but buried on page A7.

Clearly, violence against women is old news. What does this say about our concern for a woman’s absolute right to life when the story of her death fails to catch attention, unsettle or disturb?

Keeping women’s stories of violence hidden allows us to avoid making the connection between the physical abuse of women and their subordinate social position. And by limiting our understanding of violence against women to monumental and brutal acts, we miss an important point: this phenomenon is in no way limited to physical harm — although it is a very real example of sexism in action.

In North America, women find themselves in an increasingly precarious position. In Quebec, affordable day care is under attack. The program, which allows low-income parents to have their children in good hands while at work, is now up to $7-a-day from $5-a-day. Some of the additional $2 will apparently be put towards extra help for children with disabilities, but after Quebec Premier Jean Charest already reneged on a promise to maintain the $5-a-day school day care, women and parents have no reason to believe his empty promises.

Demonstrating once again his dedication toward women’s rights, Charest has threatened to remove 200,000 households from the welfare roll by 2005, many of whom include single mothers and people between the ages of 55 and 64. What Charest fails to recognize is that welfare is one of the few existing tools for women who are trying to get back on their feet after escaping an abusive relationship. Should Charest follow through with this dire plan, he will, in effect, be sentencing an even greater number of mothers and children to poverty, or even death, should they not have the means to leave.

In the United States, women have had their reproductive rights curtailed beginning with the moment George Bush took office, almost three years ago. One month ago, Bush signed the deceptively titled Partial Birth Abortion Ban, which is the first prohibition on abortion procedures since safe abortions were guaranteed with Roe v. Wade in 1973. Like Charest, who condemns women to poverty, Bush insists women bear children they do not want or cannot have — or worse yet, resort to desperate, ill-fated measures to end pregnancies. Backed up by an apparent disinterest in women’s well-being, both men are committing appalling offenses towards women, unpunished and unscathed.

Violence against women does not start with a shove or a punch. It is not limited to the 14 women killed in a horrific mass homicide. It begins first with an economic and political system bent on robbing women of their agency and independence.

It is time we stretch our notion of what constitutes violence, and demand that our politicians do the same.