I can't blame Ulrika for not naming the man

The onus now is not on Jonsson to go to the police; it is for the police to come to her

When Ulrika Jonsson first sold her memoirs to the tabloids, it was the promise of revelations about Sven-Goran Eriksson that drew them in. But it is no fun-filled romp that has made the press stay with Jonsson's experiences over the last few days. Instead, their attention has been fixed on the story that she was violently raped in a hotel room 14 years ago.

Even before the alleged rapist was outed, the tabloids were able to keep the story hopping and skipping by running a kind of trial by media. They have presented stories from half a dozen other women who say they have experienced violence at the man's hands, together with his own anonymous denials.

This was a parody of justice, for the women and for the man. There is no chance for anyone to lay their cases out clearly in the skewed world of tabloid reporting. In reaction to that nasty situation, many female commentators criticised Ulrika Jonsson vehemently for trying to get revenge on her rapist without wanting to go through the difficulty of a trial. "Pee or get off the pot," says Carol Sarler; "The onus is on her to name him," says Sue Carroll; "Ulrika is surely guilty of irresponsible and reprehensible behaviour," says Vanessa Feltz.

But although it is so easy to criticise Ulrika Jonsson for going to the media rather than the police, her decision to speak out in this way should not be seen merely as a negative step. Her story has now encouraged other women to come forward, and one of them has taken the step that Jonsson felt that she could not bear to take; she has gone to the police. Apparently this woman was deeply affected by seeing Jonsson speaking about the rape on television, and decided to seek justice for her own experience.

Now, the onus is not on Jonsson to go the police; it is also for the police to come to her, and to other women who have spoken to the press about their experiences with this man. If the evidence is there, the prosecution service would then be able to run a linked trial of the alleged rapist.

Whatever the outcome of the case, I don't think that any woman should blame Jonsson for not going to the police on that miserable night in 1988. It is depressingly common for women who are raped not to involve the police; recent figures suggest that as few as one in four rapes are reported, and even though Jonsson is now a celebrity that doesn't mean that she is immune to the pressures that weigh on other women who have experienced rape.

As Jonsson describes it in her autobiography, she found the assault extremely traumatic, both physically and psychologically. She was in hospital for four days afterwards, and the experience fed into feelings of personal inadequacy. "I was scared, was the truth," she says. "Scared of him, scared of what had happened to me. The incident had further compounded in me the sentiment that sex was for the enjoyment of the male only."

This fear runs so counter to Ulrika Jonsson's public persona of a fun-loving ladette that most commentators have entirely discounted such emotions. What we see on screen is a bubbly, confident woman; how could she be so scared by what happened in a bedroom?

But it is a gross failure of imagination and sympathy to believe that an apparently confident woman cannot be deeply traumatised by rape. And when the rape is said to have occurred, in 1988, there would have been even less support and even more prejudice from the police and the judiciary than there is today. As Jonsson says, "It was my word against his. Having invited him up to the room in the first place and having kissed him at the party was hardly going to stand me in good stead."

Indeed it would not. Even now, despite growing awareness that rape by an acquaintance is nevertheless rape, it is almost impossible for a woman in such a situation to obtain a conviction. The figures are often quoted: only 7 per cent of reported rapes lead to a conviction.

I have talked to many women over the years who feel that the trauma of their rape was only compounded by the negative experiences they had at the hands of unsympathetic police, incompetent barristers, and intrusive cross-examination on their lifestyle and previous sexual history. A young woman who had kissed a man on a first date in a hotel room and who had already been featured in the press for her relationships with famous men would have been fair game in the witness box 14 years ago.

We should also remember that at the time of the alleged attack, Ulrika Jonsson was only 21 years old. She was just starting out in the small, gossipy world of London television, and her alleged attacker was a prestigious and influential colleague. Although we often speak of the screen of anonymity as a great help for women, we have to remember that they are not anonymous to their attackers, or to their attackers' friends.

Jonsson would have known perfectly well that if her case had failed it would have been very difficult for her to shrug off the negative judgements of the influential men in her business. Although women are making great strides in the corridors of power in television, if you read Ulrika's autobiography you are made aware of how her career depended on the good opinion of one man after another.

Even if her case had succeeded, she would not necessarily have been able to count on support from those around her. The grim truth is that violence against women is still often discounted as something less than serious, or as something in which they must have colluded. Ulrika Jonsson now knows that from bitter experience.

When, in 1998, she was beaten up by her boyfriend, Stan Collymore – and although the public nature of that attack meant that there was no doubt of its reality – she found that elements of the media were quick to blame her and to mock her. At the time, for instance, Fantasy Football suggested that Collymore was the man to "really thump the Scandinavians", to roars of audience laughter.

Other women, who don't share Ulrika Jonsson's celebrity lifestyle, don't have media intrusion to put up with if they are assaulted or raped. But they may still find it hard to be taken seriously. We still live in a culture where women struggle to find support and understanding when they are assaulted or raped.

All the organisations that support women who are raped are overused and underfunded: Women Against Rape is even currently facing the threat of withdrawal of its funding. This organisation offers counselling and advocacy for women who have been raped. Indeed, it has just appealed to any woman who has been assaulted by the man who is said to have raped Ulrika Jonsson to come to them for help and support in seeking justice.

Something positive could now come out of this depressing case. The fact that Jonsson's revelation is being echoed by other women may turn out to be vital in raising public awareness of the seriousness of date rape. As we are seeing, trial by tabloid is no substitute for legal action. Such a media circus only reinforces a culture in which violence against women can be seen as entertainment and the serious repercussions of such violence are discounted. If we want to see such a culture change, then men who abuse women must be brought to trial.

n.walter@btinternet.com