Hundreds of dads are prepared to risk jail in protest at their treatment at the hands of the divorce courts. Nick Morrison meets one of the new breed of militant men.

IF someone tells you they've been unable to see their children for three years, the natural assumption is that they've committed some heinous act and have been duly punished. And when they say they're only allowed to visit their former partner for ten minutes per month, and on condition they remain downstairs, that first impression is unlikely to be undermined.

Paul Watson is in exactly this position, and he knows what people think when he tells them. "If you say you haven't seen your kids for three years, people think you're either battering them or sexually abusing them," he says. "But my ex acknowledges that I'm a good dad and there's no risk."

Paul lays his predicament, not at the door of his ex-wife, but at that of the court system. After the couple split in November 1999, he went to court the following February in the hope the law would act as a mediator, helping them to sort out differences over access to the children. He now believes it is the worst thing he could have done.

The judge, taking advice from an officer of the Children and Family Court Advisory Support Service (Cafcass), decided it was in the children's best interests if Paul didn't see them, not because they were at risk, but because it might upset them. Now they are 12 and ten and he has already missed three years of their childhood.

As a result of his experience, Paul, a 34-year-old sports centre manager, is now the North-East co-ordinator of Fathers 4 Justice, a campaign group set up at the end of last year. Fathers 4 Justice argues that dads have had a raw deal at the hands of divorce courts, and that years of persuasion have failed to remedy this. Their solution is to resort to direct action: non-violent civil disobedience.

So far this has seen dads dress up as Father Christmas to picket the Lord Chancellor's department; attempting to blockade the Royal Courts of Justice dressed as Elvis Presley, and shutting down a Plymouth court by draping a banner from the roof. Several Cafcass officials have had their front doors painted purple.

The biggest Fathers 4 Justice protest so far saw dads occupy a court room in the Family Court in London, while others demonstrated outside. Paul was one of around 1,000 dads who made the trip to central London earlier this month.

Indeed, after two hours in Paul's company, when he has barely paused for breath, it is clear that the pressure that has been building for some time can be held back no longer. He rattles off an impressive - but depressing - series of figures, including how 100 children lose contact with their fathers every day and how 97 per cent of parents given residence - what used to be called custody - are mothers.

Paul is anxious to make it clear he isn't defending those fathers who abandon their children, or those who physically or sexually abuse. He says men are equally as likely to be the victims of domestic violence as the perpetrators.

The problem, he says, lies with the courts, and their Cafcass advisors, who have an automatic presumption in favour of the mother. And the guideline that any contact - what used to be called access - agreements must be in the best interests of the children, often works to the mother's advantage.

If the mother gets upset at the thought of her former partner coming round, then the children get upset at seeing their mother upset, so it's best for the children if dad stays away. In a similar vein, mothers who deliberately flout contact orders, and refuse to allow their ex to see his children, often get away with it: courts are extremely reluctant to jail mothers.

"Dads have been dumped on. We have been let down and abandoned by the state. Instead of protecting children's right to have a father, courts have killed off the fathers. Instead of coming up with a practical solution where they value both parents, there is a winner-loser mentality," he says.

The sole aim of Fathers 4 Justice is to introduce a legal presumption of contact for both parents. "That doesn't mean a free-for-all, the safeguards are in place to protect children, but it means there should be a 50-50 starting point - children need both parents.

"We're taking direct action to make the point; we're going to go out on the streets to let people know. This is not 'have a go at mother', it is not 'we hate women'. Children need both their parents."

There have been comparisons with the Blackshirts in Australia, a militant fathers' group whose tactics include standing outside divorced mothers' homes, making nuisance phone calls, and leafleting neighbours, but Paul is adamant they will not stoop to those levels.

"We're not like that, but we are prepared to be arrested. We're saying 'enough is enough' and we're making a stand. Fathers are prepared to stand up and be counted for their kids - if that is what it takes to raise awareness, then so be it.

"If you have got kids it can happen to you today. You have no legal right to see your kids, and if you go to court it makes it worse."

He makes the point that a father can be banned from going near his children, but their mother is entitled to bring anyone she wants back to her house. The only person who is not allowed to see those children is their own father.

And it is ironic that while the Government is busily trying to encourage fathers to take a more active role in their child's development, it is also stopping some dads seeing their children at all.

"Why should a normal, caring, loving dad not be allowed to see his kids? Why is it only fathers who get targeted? They are ripping the guts and hearts out of fathers in this country.

"I went to court in the hope it would help us find a way forward, but they abandoned us. Not only did they abandon us, they made it a thousand times worse. If separation and divorce is a flame, then all they did was throw petrol on it and turn it into a raging fireball."

Paul knows he has already missed out on much of seeing his children grow up, and even if contact is re-established he will never be able to relive that time. But he says the knowledge that what happened to him could easily happen to other people, perhaps even to his children in time, makes him determined to fight, even if it means going to jail. The thought of others being put through what he has been put through is an unhappy one.

"I have missed out on everything, they have missed having their dad there. It is like a living bereavement - at least if somebody dies you can grieve and try and get over it. When I think of my kids it rips me inside... it aches."