Showing posts sorted by relevance for query FEMICIDE. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query FEMICIDE. Sort by date Show all posts

Monday, October 28, 2024

Femicide is Rising, But Where’s the Outrage?
October 28, 2024
Source: Africa is a Country

Activists and relatives of Ugandan Olympic athlete Rebecca Cheptegei march calling for an end to femicide, 2024. Credit Andrew Kasuku / AP Photo

In Kenya, Olympic athlete Rebecca Cheptegi was brutally murdered—doused in petrol and set on fire by her ex-boyfriend just three weeks after returning from the Paris Olympics. In Switzerland, authorities recently revealed that Kristina Joksimovic, a former Miss Switzerland finalist, was killed by her husband, who confessed to the crime and allegedly dismembered her body and pureed it in a blender. In London, Cher Maximen was fatally stabbed in front of her daughter by a stranger while on her way to the Notting Hill Carnival.

Another day, another femicide globally. Although these incidents occurred separately, and these women live worlds apart, their deaths are tragically interconnected. While global homicide rates have generally declined, femicide has been steadily rising over the past two decades. In 2022, the UN recorded 89,000 cases of femicide globally, with 55% of these deaths caused by intimate partner violence or other perpetrators known to the victim. On average, this means that every 11 minutes, a woman or girl is killed somewhere in the world. In response to these troubling statistics, women across the globe have mobilized, with movements like #StopKillingUs in Kenya, #TotalShutdown in South Africa, and #NiUnaMenos in Latin America, fighting to end this violence.

Femicide is broadly understood as the killing of a woman or girl because of her gender—the most extreme form of gender-based violence. The 2012 UN Economic and Social Council’s Vienna Declaration on Femicide was the first to outline and recognize various forms of femicide, including intimate partner violence, targeted killings of women and girls in armed conflict, female infanticide, deaths related to genital mutilation, honor killings, and murders following accusations of witchcraft, among others.

Feminist scholars and activists have highlighted that femicide is not only about women and girls who have been killed, but also those who endure a continuum of gender-based violence, including ongoing violence, harassment, and assault. Academics Maya Dawsone and Saide Vega explain that femicide serves as a social barometer, reflecting the level of violence that women and girls experience, which may not always lead to death but can feel like a “slow death” for many. A contemporary example is the harrowing case of Gisele Pelicot in France, who discovered that her husband, Dominique Pelicot, had been drugging her for nearly a decade, inviting strangers to rape her in their home between 2011 and 2020 while filming the assaults as a form of “public revenge on men.” Pericot’s daughter describes the experience as a “slow descent into hell,” highlighting the horrifying sentiment of new cases of gender-based violence that emerge, challenging our perception of extreme violence.

While feminist movements have made significant strides in naming, recognizing, and advocating against femicide, it often seems as though the rest of the world remains disturbingly indifferent to this “silent pandemic,” carrying on with business as usual. The alarming rise in femicide, coupled with the relentless advocacy of feminists worldwide, makes it more urgent than ever to confront the root causes of this global epidemic of violence against women, and to take action to uproot it.

About 30% of women have experienced physical or sexual violence at least once in their lives. The Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination against Women (CEDAW) 2005 recognized that femicide is not “isolated, sporadic or episodic cases of violence; rather they represent a structural situation and a social and cultural phenomenon deeply rooted in customs and mindsets.” One structural cause of femicide lies in how states and governments enable these killings—either through inadequate responses or a complete lack of action. Significant gaps in data collection also hinder the fight against femicide. Most data is drawn from national crime statistics or homicide records, which are often not gender-specific due to inconsistent criminal justice reporting across countries. As a result, the actual global rate of femicide is likely much higher. In many countries the lack of digital records further exacerbates these challenges, creating additional barriers to accurate data collection.

Government failures continue to play a key role in facilitating femicide—particularly through the lack of legal responses to domestic violence. Rebecca Cheptegi’s family highlighted this state-sanctioned femicide when they revealed that they reported her ex-boyfriend to Kenyan police, but authorities failed to respond to their plea for help, a failure that might have prevented her death. Political and economic factors also drive this troubling trend as national economies shape power dynamics within households and the public sphere. Economic hardship, particularly, threatens men’s livelihoods and social status, often escalating violence. Many countries have reported links between women’s murders and factors such as male unemployment and lack of income.

Furthermore, patriarchal traditions and norms that reinforce male dominance and female subordination, combined with external economic pressures, can result in gender-based violence. The expectation that men should be the primary breadwinners is a key component of patriarchal norms. When women out-earn their male partners, some men may feel emasculated and attempt to “restore” their perceived loss of power or control through violence. It has been speculated that Rebecca Cheptegei’s ex-boyfriend may have killed her over a land dispute, reflecting broader tensions around women’s increasing financial independence. This pattern may also explain the deaths of other Kenyan female Olympians, such as Agnes Tirop, who was similarly the breadwinner of her family and was murdered by her husband. Women across all social classes remain vulnerable to the threat of femicide, including celebrities whose partners may feel threatened by their economic and social status as public figures.

Mainstream approaches to ending femicide have largely focused on legal solutions and the criminal justice system. One example is the push to classify femicide as a distinct crime—in 2022, Cyprus incorporated femicide into its criminal code, making gender-related killings an aggravating factor in sentencing. Although classifying femicide as a distinct crime can aid in advocacy, awareness, and harm reduction, it remains limited by the broader shortcomings of carceral approaches. This classification alone is unlikely to serve as a strong deterrent to future crimes, and in many cases, gender-based violence laws exist but are poorly enforced.

Abolitionist feminists argue that criminalization is ineffective at protecting women but productive at reproducing harm. In Kenya, for example, conviction rates for sexual assault and rape are extremely low. Studies illustrate that only 6% of reported rape cases result in convictions. Contributing to the low conviction rates are factors such as policy inefficiencies, mishandling of DNA, lack of post-rape counseling and resources, and cultural stigmas. A carceral feminist politic, which relies on policing, prosecution, and imprisonment as the primary responses to gender-based violence, is ultimately myopic and can even be situationally dangerous for the victims seeking redress.

Effective measures seek to address the underlying socioeconomic inequalities and precarious conditions that contribute to violence against women. This includes providing financial support, accessible shelter, and economic empowerment for women reporting violence. For instance, cash transfer programs in low- and middle-income countries have shown a positive correlation between women’s income and lower rates of domestic violence. A successful example is South Africa’s IMAGE Programme (Intervention with Microfinance for AIDS and Gender Equity), which equips women with microfinance to enhance their economic independence. Additionally, governments must increase social spending on health and education to alleviate the burden on households, particularly the unpaid domestic labor that disproportionately falls on women.

Lastly, education and community outreach efforts must not only be inclusive of women but should also actively engage men, boys, and all other victims of patriarchal norms. Such education can dismantle deep-rooted cultural beliefs and harmful misrepresentations, like “boys will be boys” or the myth that a woman’s choice of dress justifies sexual assault. The Swedish government has consistently invested in educational programs aimed at addressing gender violence, including re-socializing boys by integrating gender equality into school curriculums. These efforts have contributed to Sweden’s relatively low levels of intimate partner violence and femicide, fostering a more gender-equal society.

Each day, cases of femicide remind us that ignorance of violence against women is deadly. Legal reforms, while essential, are not enough to end this crisis. To truly combat femicide, we must dismantle the deep-rooted inequalities, patriarchal norms, and systemic failures that sustain it. Femicide is not just a feminist issue, it’s everyone’s problem, and more people should be outraged. The time for action is now.

Naila Aronii is a writer and artist from Nairobi, Kenya.

Tuesday, December 10, 2024

Police in Kenya hurl teargas at protesters against gender-based violence


Kenyan women and feminists demonstrate against the increase in the number of feminicides in the centre of Nairobi, Kenya, on 27 January 2024. - 
Copyright © africanewsBrian Inganga/Copyright 2023 The AP. All rights reserved


By Rédaction Africanews
with AP Last updated: 5 hours ago

Kenya


Police in Kenya hurled teargas canisters Tuesday at hundreds of protesters against gender-based violence, or femicide, in the capital, Nairobi, and arrested an unknown number of people.

Protesters chanting “Stop femicide” were dispersed by police in a public park where they had gathered and later engaged in running battles along the streets. Several protesters were injured in the confrontation Tuesday.

One activist, Mwikali Mueni, told The Associated Press that she suffered a neck injury from uniformed police officers and was heading to the hospital.


“It is very sad that I was injured while championing for women not to be injured or killed. If the president is serious about ending femicide, let him start by taking action on the officers who have brutalized us today,” she said.

Kenya has a silent epidemic of gender-based violence. Police in October said 97 women had been killed since August, most by their male partners.

Last month, President William Ruto committed more than $700,000 for a campaign to end femicide after meeting with elected women leaders.

A U.N. report released in November to mark the start of a separate 16-day global campaign said Africa recorded the highest rate of partner-related femicide in 2023.

There has been a series of anti-femicide protests in Kenya and on Nov. 25 during the International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women, police used tear gas to disperse a handful of protesters who had braved the bad weather.

Kenya was among several African countries elected to the U.N. Human Rights Council on Oct. 9.

The police crackdown on protesters on Tuesday during Human Rights Day has been criticized by activists.

“Why are we being beaten and tear-gassed, yet we are peaceful? We will keep coming to the streets till the day women will stop being slaughtered like animals,” activist Mariam Chande told journalists.

Activists questioned how law enforcement agencies have handled femicide cases, protesting the escape from police cells of a suspect who confessed to killing 42 women after dismembered bodies were found stuffed in plastic sacks and dumped in a flooded quarry.

“It’s not fair that we can’t sleep well. You disappear, you come back in a sack,” a protester who only introduced herself as Phoebe said.

Protesters in Kenya demand action against femicide amid police crackdown

By Africanews 



Kenya

Hundreds of protesters took to the streets of Nairobi on Tuesday to denounce rising femicide cases in Kenya, only to face a violent police crackdown that left many injured and dispersed.

Protesters, chanting “Stop femicide,” had gathered to highlight the alarming number of killings of women and girls in the country. Police responded with teargas, leading to chaos in the streets.

“Our Lives Do Not Matter”

Julius Kamau, one of the protesters, expressed frustration with the government's handling of gender-based violence.

"The constitution is very clear, and everybody must show fidelity to the constitution of Kenya, including the police. They are chasing us like children. We are here to protest against killings of people, women, and girls. It’s happening everywhere. Our lives do not matter in this country. How long shall we live like this?” Kamau said.

Women Demand Justice


Nancy Waithera, another protester, called on authorities to listen to women’s pleas.

"We are begging you to not kill us. We came here for a reason, and they are throwing teargas all over. Women are dispersed all over. It is very wrong for police to do this. It is high time for you to listen to women. Stop killing us," she said.

A Worsening Crisis

Kenya is grappling with a silent epidemic of gender-based violence. Police data shows that 97 women were killed between August and November 2024, most by their male partners. A recent U.N. report revealed Africa has the highest global rate of partner-related femicide.

Last month, President William Ruto pledged $700,000 for a campaign to end femicide, but activists argue that concrete action is still lacking.

On Human Rights Day, the use of force against peaceful protesters drew criticism from rights groups, who questioned the commitment of law enforcement to address femicide cases.

A notable failure was the recent escape of a suspect from custody after confessing to killing 42 women, leaving activists and the public outraged over systemic failures in the justice system.

Kenya’s election to the U.N. Human Rights Council in October has further heightened scrutiny over how the country addresses human rights issues, particularly gender-based violence.

The latest protest follows a series of similar demonstrations, including one on November 25, when police dispersed protesters with tear gas during the International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women.

Friday, December 10, 2021

‎December 6 anniversary: Media must be an integral part of the fight against femicide‎

Thu., December 9, 2021, 8:47 a.m.

‎People attend a rally on the National Day of Remembrance and Action on Violence Against Women in Canada on Parliament Hill.‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎
THE CANADIAN PRESS/Sean Kilpatrick‎‎ ‎

‎On December 6, 1989, in a misogynistic gesture of extreme violence, fourteen young women were shot dead at ‎‎the École Polytechnique of the Université de Montréal.‎

‎Although perpetrated by one man, this mass femicide stems from a social environment marked by gender inequality, misogyny, colonialism, racism and other intersectional phenomena of oppression.‎

‎Femicide — the murder of a woman or girl because of her gender — is no coincidence. Although the media often portray femicide as spontaneous "crimes of passion," when a man kills his partner, it is the culmination of a history of violence ‎‎in more than 70% of cases‎‎ — and more frequently the result of controlling behavior of a criminal nature.‎

‎Femicide is also ‎‎more premeditated, compared to the murder of a non-intimate partner.‎‎ Therefore, many of these deaths are preventable, and we must use all the tools at our disposal to increase public awareness of the phenomenon and improve prevention strategies.‎

‎ Read more: ‎‎Polytechnique, 30 years later: a first anti-feminist attack, finally named as such‎‎ ‎

‎Engaging decision-makers‎


‎Public health efforts during the Covid-19 pandemic have illustrated the importance of spreading a clear message, making room for science and holding political leaders and social institutions to account in order to save lives.‎

‎As these efforts continue, we will once again mark December 6, the ‎‎National Day of Remembrance and Action on Violence Against Women,‎‎and reflect on the pandemic of male violence that continues to take the lives of many women and girls around the world.‎


‎A woman gathers near the Women's Monument in London, Ontario, on the occasion of the 25th anniversary of the 2014 Polytechnique massacre.‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎
THE CANADIAN PRESS/Dave Chidley‎‎ ‎

‎Part of our work at ‎‎the Canadian Femicide Observatory for Justice and Accountability‎‎ is to monitor this extreme form of sex- or gender-based violence. As the Covid-19 pandemic has highlighted, the ‎‎media play a vital role‎‎ in informing us about threats – how they define themselves, what aspects deserve our attention or how to address a particular issue.‎

‎In short, the media frame the problem and propose solutions. To this extent, the media can be a key mechanism for primary prevention, as long as they provide an accurate representation of the problem.‎

‎The media have a crucial role to play in the coverage of femicides, not only in raising awareness and general education, but also ‎‎by actively participating in the construction of attitudes and beliefs‎‎ that can contribute to prevention efforts.‎

‎In contrast, harmful portrayals, such as those depicting this type of murder as an ‎‎isolated act or the work of a single person,‎‎have the effect of shining a ‎‎spotlight on the victims' behaviour‎‎ and suggesting (implicitly or explicitly) that they are responsible for their own deaths or ‎‎marginalizing certain groups.‎‎ because of their race, religion, socio-economic status, participation in the sex trade, sexual orientation or other factors.‎

‎There is also the question of those who are not represented at all. The ‎‎"missing white woman syndrome"‎‎ is a good illustration of the media bias in which White victims, usually from privileged backgrounds, ‎‎receive significant coverage,‎‎while the case of missing and murdered Indigenous or non-white women and girls is considered to be of lesser interest to society. As a result, some women and girls remain invisible, in life as well as in death.‎


‎Girls gather for the annual Women's Memorial March in Vancouver in February 2021, an event held in memory of missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls. The route is punctuated by stations in various places where women were last seen or found.‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎THE CANADIAN PRESS/Darryl Dyck‎‎ ‎More

The importance of media coverage of femicide‎

‎When it comes to accurately informing the public, the way journalists portray femicide is therefore of paramount importance. Indeed, media coverage of femicide ‎‎helps to address broader issues related to violence against women‎‎ and, in so doing, to raise public awareness of these crimes, their underlying societal causes, consequences and implications.‎

‎Such media coverage may include terms specific to femicide, statistics on the number of women killed by their intimate partners, support resources for victims of domestic violence, or new sources of expertise that are better qualified to treat femicide, including those who provide primary care, are involved in advocacy and research.‎

‎In addition to providing a deeper context, supported by empirical data, this type of coverage has the power to raise public awareness of the problem. Instead of reporting femicide as isolated incidents, it sheds more light on community and societal solutions.‎

‎These may include funding services for victims of violence, prevention education initiatives, legislative reforms or cultural changes, such as targeting attitudes that support or normalize violence against women.‎

‎As we honour the memory of women and girls who have died as a result of violence in Canada, we can take a critical look at how their stories are told in the media, as well as how they tell us about their deaths. We can take our analysis beyond police reports and ‎‎cultural references surrounding femicide,‎‎drawing on the experience and expertise of survivors and people who have lost a loved one to violence.‎

‎It is possible to deviate from sensational and explicit reports and stop insinuating that the gestures, behaviors or lifestyles of the victims may have contributed to their deaths.‎

‎Femicide is a tragic loss. It is a gesture of extreme violence directed against women. This is a violation of human rights and a real public health issue. However, in order to accurately portray this crime, the media must take all these aspects into account.‎
-----


Yasmin Jiwani, Professor of Communication Studies; Research Chair on Intersectionality, Violence and Resistance, Concordia University, 

Myrna Dawson, Professor and Research Leadership Chair, Sociology, University of Guelph, Jordan Fairbairn, Associate Professor, Sociology, King's University College, Western University,

Ciara Boyd, PhD Student, Sociology, University of Guelph

‎Jordan Fairbairn receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council.‎

Ciara Boyd, Myrna Dawson, and Yasmin Jiwani do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.


Tuesday, March 19, 2024

TAJÊ: Against femicide, be the voice of self-defense

The Freedom's Movement of Êzidî Women launched a new international campaign against femicide.



WOMEN CAMPAIGN AGAINST FEMICIDES
ANF
NEWS DESK
Wednesday, 13 March 2024

The Yazidi women's liberation movement TAJÊ has launched an international campaign against femicide and for the self-defense of women worldwide.

This campaign, which kicked off on 8 March, aims to bring together voices of women and women's organizations until August 3, the tenth anniversary of the genocide and femicide in Shengal.

TAJÊ invites everyone to participate using a variety of methods, such as photos, videos, texts, songs, poems, rallies and demonstrations.

The manifesto for the campaign names five central demands of the Yazidi women's movement. TAJÊ demands that femicide be recognized as a war crime and that all perpetrators and supporters be convicted. Women's right to organized self-defense must find social and institutional acceptance. The massacre committed by ISIS in Shengal ten years ago must be officially classified as genocide at all levels and prosecuted accordingly. TAJÊ also calls for the recognition of the self-administration and security forces established in Shengal after 2014 as the legitimate representation and defense of the community. The cessation of all attacks on Yazidi society, especially the air raids by the Turkish state, is also called for as necessary for survival.

The manifesto reads as follows:

"To the women of the world,

As TAJÊ (Tevgera Azadiya Jinên Êzidî), the Freedom's Movement of Êzidî Women in Şengal, we send our warmest greetings and respect to all the fighting and resisting women in the world. To all those women standing up against the violence against our bodies and souls. To all those women organizing to make a better life possible. To all those women defending their lives, lands and cultures.

The times we live in are marked by brutal wars and inhuman violence. As women, we are beaten, raped, sold, killed and burned. Our lands are occupied and nature destroyed. However, with every new attack, our global resistance and struggle against war, violence and femicide is growing. This gives us hope and strength. Our pain and our resistance is one.

For us as Êzidî women, the year 2024 is a special year. It marks the 10th anniversary of the genocide and femicide committed by the so-called Islamic State (Daesh) in Şengal. On August 3rd, 2014, tens of thousands of Êzidî were murdered, abducted and taken as slaves. Children were forcibly recruited as child soldiers. On top of that, hundreds of thousands of inhabitants of Şengal were expelled from their homeland. Our holy places were blown up and tens of buildings were detonated. However, despite all the difficulties and dangers, hundreds of families remained on the soil of Şengal, took up weapons and resisted against Daesh. They participated in the offensive to liberate Şengal and created their own protection forces, called Yekîneyên Berxwedana Şengalê (YBŞ; Şengal Resistance Units) and Yekîniyên Jinên Şengalê (YJŞ; Şengal Women's Resistance Units).

In all massacres and genocides, women are the ones suffering most. The assimilation and killing of women are frequently adopted as a means to wipe out the identity, culture and belief of a society. When, in 2014, women fell into the hands of Daesh, they were raped, sold as slaves and/or forced into marriage with jihadist fighters. Until today, 2.941 persons, most of them women and children, still remain in the hands of Daesh. The genocidal and femicidal attacks against Şengal are a cruel wound in all our hearts. We assess these attacks as the brutal face of patriarchal violence and therefore as attacks against all women.

We do not accept that, so far, no state and institution has judged Daesh and its accomplices, such as the Turkish State or KDP, for the systematic attacks carried out against the people of Şengal. On August 3rd, 2014, Şengal’s security was under the responsibility of the KRG (Kurdistan Regional Government) and its ruling party, KDP (Kurdistan Democratic Party). However, when Daesh attacked the first villages, 12,000 PDK-peshmerga left Şengal without shooting a single bullet and delivered our people to Daesh. We demand that the responsibility of all forces will be proved and convicted.

The genocide and femicide of August 3rd, 2014 caused lots of pain, trauma and deep losses within our community. However, today this pain is the soil for our resistance. Many fighters have lost their lives for the sake of defending our land and people. We call them Şehîds. They are our light and hope.

After 2014, the people in Şengal organized in all fields of life based on the thoughts of Abdullah Öcalan. As Êzidî women we built the Freedom's Movement of Êzidî Women in Şengal called TAJÊ with the philosophy of JIN JIYAN AZADÎ. With proudness we can say that the mothers of Şengal are at the forefront of our resistance. We are organized in women's councils and work in the fields of culture, health, economy, press and diplomacy.

Our history is a history of struggle and resistance but also a history of 74 genocides. It taught us that we cannot trust in the protection of other forces. After the genocide of August 3rd, 2014, we therefore built our own protection forces, YBŞ, YJŞ and Asayîş Êzidxan (a security structure to meet the daily security needs of the population). YJŞ is a woman’s-only military force and our greatest honor. Today, as Êzidî women, we know how to self-defend. This is our revenge against all the pain we suffered.

However, also ten years after the genocide and femicide, the attacks against our people continue. The Turkish state, with the support of the KDP, is continuously committing air strikes against members of our military forces as well as against civilians. Dozens of our brothers and sisters have been killed in these airstrikes since 2017. Furthermore, the Iraqi state as well as the KDP are trying to abolish our self-organization and self-administration in Şengal through diplomatic pressure and their agreement of October 9th, 2020.

We claim that all suppressed people, societies and beliefs have the right to defend themselves against the danger of genocide and femicide. We consider the self-defense of the people and women of Şengal – that in other ways would be eliminated – as the only legitimate one.

As the freedom movement of Êzidî women, TAJÊ, and the Şengal Women's Resistance Units, YJŞ, we carry out an active struggle against nationalism, religious fundamentalism and especially against sexism, so that in the future no women, people or community of belief will ever again have to face genocides and femicides. We believe that in the countries we live in, we will only reach democracy, freedom and peace if we as women lead the way on the basis of self-determination and free will.

The best response against the atrocities carried out against the Êzidî women is the solidarity and worldwide organization of women.

We therefore declare that the year 2024 will be marked by raising our voices against femicide and for self-defense.

We demand:

1. That femicide will be recognized as a war crime and that all perpetrators are convicted of committing or supporting the systematic killing of women.

2. That the right of women to organize for the defense of their lives, lands and culture will be accepted by all people and institutions.

3. That the genocide of August 3rd, 2014 in Şengal will be offcially recognized as a genocide. This also indicates, that the responsibility of all perpetrators and supporters, including ISIS, KDP, Turkey and Iraq will be proved and convicted.

4. That our self-administration in Şengal as well as our protection forces YBŞ, YJŞ and Asayîş Êzidxan will be accepted as the legitimate representation and protection of our people.

5. That all attacks against our people in Şengal, especially the airstrikes committed by the Turkish state, stop.

From March 8th, International Women’s Day, until August 3rd ,the tenth anniversary of the genocide in Şengal, we will therefore collect the voices, signatures and participation of various women and women’s organization to call on all women across the globe:

Let us unite our voices in the spirit of JIN JIYAN AZADÎ. Let us raise them against femicide and for self-defense.

Together we will demand accountability for the massacres of women in Şengal and every other place on earth."



Croatia becomes third EU country to pass femicide law

In Croatia, with a population of 3.8 million, 13 women were murdered in 2022, 12 of them by a close relative, and 9 in 2023.



FEMICIDE
ANF
NEWS DESK
Thursday, 14 March 2024

Croatia became the third country in the European Union to give femicide a separate legal status.

"With these amendments, we are protecting the rights, safety and dignity of women and sending the message that violence against women is unacceptable," Croatia's conservative Prime Minister Andrej Plenkovic said in late February when presenting the proposed law.

The text adopted by parliament stipulates that sentences could range from 10 to 40 years in prison, the maximum penalty under Croatian law.

The amendments to the penal code were adopted with 77 MPs voting in favor and 60 against, the official Hina news agency reported.

According to local NGOs, Croatia has the third highest per capita femicide rate in the EU.

According to EU data, 2,300 women were murdered by their husbands or family members in Europe in 2022.

In Croatia, with a population of 3.8 million, 13 women were murdered in 2022, 12 of them by a close relative, and 9 in 2023.

The government decided to propose this law after the murder of 20-year-old law student Mihaela Berak in September by a police officer with whom she had a brief affair.

Mihaela Berak's death sparked a heated debate about the failures of a system designed to protect victims and the law itself. Demonstrations were organized across the country to demand justice for Mihaela and to call for femicide to have a legal cover.

Prior to Croatia, Cyprus and Malta also gave femicide a separate legal status.






Tuesday, June 04, 2024

Black women in London facing ‘crisis’ as higher femicide rates revealed

By Jamel Smith, PAMon 27 May 2024 at 17:01


Black women in London are said to be facing a “crisis”, with higher rates of femicide in the capital than other ethnic groups, figures suggest.


Femicide broadly refers to the killing of a woman or girl because of her gender, highlighting the issue of violence targeted specifically at females.

Southall Black Sisters, an organisation dedicated to assisting society’s most marginalised victims of abuse, said that while the findings are “really shocking,” it sadly does not come as a surprise that there is a disproportionate impact on black women.

The figures have been obtained by the PA news agency from the Metropolitan Police in a Freedom of Information request. They show that:




Femicides recorded by the Metropolitan Police, by ethnicity

– Of the 21 femicide victims recorded by the Metropolitan Police in 2022, nine (43%) were black while eight of the 13 victims in 2023 (62%) were black.

– These figures suggest black women are being disproportionately targeted when compared with the ethnic breakdown of the female population of London, where just 14% are black, according to the 2021 census.

– By contrast, four of the 21 victims in 2022 were white, along with one of the 13 victims in 2013, while white women make up over half (53%) of London’s female population.

– The pattern was different in 2021, however, with 25 femicide victims recorded by the Met, of whom 20 (80%) were white and three (12%) were black.

Met Police data also shows that sharp instruments were the most common method for killing the victims, being used in 13 of the 25 femicides recorded in 2021, 16 of the 21 in 2022 and seven of the 13 in 2023.

The Femicide Census, a database providing detailed information on women killed in the UK and their perpetrators, criticised the Met Police and the Mayor of London, saying they “simply don’t care enough” about femicide.

Clarrie O’Callaghan, 49, from the Femicide Census, told PA that there has been a “woeful disregard” for the experiences of black and minoritised women in London.


She added that despite multiple freedom of information requests, the Met Police for nearly a decade has never provided them with data similar to that provided to the PA until this year.

She said: “The fact that they (Met Police) have steadfastly resisted giving us the data… it’s a good indicator to say, where are their priorities, where do they want to focus attention.”

Selma Taha, 52, from Southall Black Sisters, said: “Racism and sexism are deeply entrenched in the UK’s system. At the intersection of race and sex, black women are disproportionately impacted and failed as a result. Black femicide is a form of violence against women and girls (VAWG) that reflects these prejudices, both in the act of violence and in the systemic response to it.

“Why is the value of black women’s lives so obsolete, they’re facing a crisis… we need politicians and the police to step up.”

Commander Kevin Southworth, who leads Public Protection for the Met, said: “We take violence against women and girls in all its forms extremely seriously and are dedicated to being open and transparent with our data.

“We provided data for all women who had been killed between 1 January 2021 and 31 December 2021 to the Femicide Consensus – the data that was not released was due to families who did not wish for the victims’ data and details to be shared in any form.

“We are committed to protecting those who are at risk, regardless of their ethnicity or faith, and understand that communities are affected in different ways. We work with victim-survivors, charities and partners to listen to, transform and improve our response to all victims.”

A spokesperson for Mayor of London Sadiq Khan said: “The Mayor is committed to ensuring that ending the epidemic of violence against women and girls is treated with the utmost urgency both by our police, and society as a whole.

“Sadiq has invested a record £163 million as part of his public health approach to tackle violence against women and girls, which includes targeted funding to support community organisations working with women and girls from black, Asian and minority-ethnic communities and other minoritised groups, including the LGBTQ+ community.

“But there is more to do, which is why the Mayor has prioritised a new comprehensive 10-point plan to tackle offending and fund new free independent legal advice for survivors of rape and serious sexual offences so that they can receive the vital support they need and deserve.

“And is supporting the ‘New Met for London’ plan, to overhaul the way the force deals with offences involving women and girls. This includes providing better training for officers, more resources for specialist investigative teams and focused action on the worst offenders so we can build a safer London for all.”

Saturday, June 20, 2026

Anatomy of a feminist debate: the ambivalences of the notion of femicide

Tuesday 9 June 2026, by Caterina Peroni



In December 2025, the Italian Parliament unanimously passed a law creating the specific crime of femicide, now punishable by life imprisonment. This vote came a few weeks after Filippo Turetta was sentenced to life imprisonment for the November 2023 femicide of Giulia Cecchettin.

The major innovation lies in the addition of Article 577 bis to the Penal Code:

Anyone who causes the death of a woman because of her sex—through hatred, discrimination, abuse of power, or through conduct aimed at controlling, possessing, or dominating her—is liable to life imprisonment.

Until now, the Penal Code only provided for aggravating circumstances in certain limited cases. The government of Giorgia Meloni presents this text as an additional tool to combat violence against women and protect their freedom and dignity.

In Italy, a woman dies every four days at the hands of her partner or ex-partner; the country only legalized divorce in 1970 and abortion in 1978, a law that is nonetheless flouted daily by the refusal of entire gynaecology departments across the peninsula to implement it; “honour killings,” or legalized femicide, were only outlawed in 1981, and the classification of rape as a “crime against public morality” was only abolished in 1996. Italy was recently condemned by the European Court of Human Rights for gender stereotypes and sexual violence; a country governed by political forces now in government who refused to ratify the Istanbul Convention [on preventing and combating violence against women and domestic violence] in the European Parliament.

Violence against women is a structural phenomenon that demands a comprehensive response that cannot be dictated by “fragmentary interventions driven by fleeting media sensationalism or purely formal laws.” Sociologist Caterina Peroni discusses the relevance of this penal response here. (SP)


In recent weeks, a heated debate has raged on one of the most complex issues in Italian feminism since the 1970s: the relationship between gender-based violence, criminal law, and its symbolic function. Two events have reignited this debate: the adoption of the bill on femicide, presented with great fanfare on March 8th by the signatory ministers, and the publication of the reasons for Filippo Turetta’s life sentence for the femicide of Giulia Cecchettin.

These two events revive the unresolved question of whether and how feminism should or can make use of criminal law, including strategically. They also raise the question of whether and how criminal law, with its power of symbolic and material criminalization, can be useful to feminism, to women, and to society as a whole—because we understand feminism as a political and cultural movement whose objective is, if not revolution, at least a radical transformation of patriarchal and heterosexual society.

Feminism: a complex movement

Indeed, it is important to make an initial distinction here: feminism is a multifaceted movement, capable of condensing and converging in the waves and tides that constantly surge across the global public sphere. At the same time, it is composed of diverse genealogies, lexicons, objectives, and political practices. This is one of the reasons why I did not add the adjectives “capitalist, colonial, racist, supremacist” to “patriarchal and heterosexual society”: because not everyone perceives the indissoluble and constitutive link between these terms in the same way, and this is the source of various misunderstandings that sometimes create deep divides.

One of these concerns specifically the relationship with criminal law and the prison system of the contemporary capitalist state; another concerns the possible and diverse definitions of freedom, self-determination, and solidarity that fall within the framework of intersectionality, if we take this concept seriously. There are many others, but the core remains the same, and we have come to understand it thanks to decolonial, Indigenous, and Black feminist movements, which have dismantled the very idea of the existence of an essentialized feminine subjectivity, multiplying the perspectives and positions from which we recognize ourselves and name a problem.

In the case of violence against women (or gender-based violence, which has essentially become the same thing), these movements have taught us that defining and combating it requires taking into account context, background, skin colour, and community affiliation. For example, it was Black American women who taught us that prison and the penal system are not a solution for everyone. On the contrary, they solve nothing, because in their extreme forms, they represent and embody racism and state-sanctioned sexism. They destroy communities and criminalize already marginalized people.

What I would like to do here, without any claim to being exhaustive, is to try to make sense of the internal conflict within our feminisms that has arisen around the question of femicide, its relationship to criminal law, and its relationship to the extreme form of incarceration that is life imprisonment. I would therefore like to trace the genealogy of the debate and its ambivalences, and draw attention back to an aspect that I consider fundamental from a methodological, epistemological, and political point of view: that our words are the product of processes of subjectivation, conflict, and liberation; that when they are captured and repeated by the state and its apparatuses, they can only be betrayed in their intentions, their meanings, and their results; and that, to freely paraphrase Our Lady, bell books and a slogan often repeated lately, the houses of oppressors are sealed by fire — you can imagine the rest.

I will attempt to dissect the current debate from the words that have been used, reconstructing their meaning and genealogy in order to relate them to each other and to identify the knots, entanglements, ambivalences and misunderstandings in which we are still caught .

Male violence and security apparatus: a genealogy

Those who study the phenomenon of violence against women know how fundamental the media dimension, representations, and public discourse in general are to how it is perceived. And they know, we know, how, once decades of attempts to minimize, trivialize, pathologize, and externalize male violence against women were defeated, it became a central theme on political agendas as a security mechanism for social alert and moral panic, a very useful tool for appropriating and redefining a political and social conflict triggered by feminism in the 1960s and 1970s.

We all know that while male violence towards women has always existed, at least since the birth of patriarchy, it has become a social, public and political problem since, instead of being described as "excessive correction", "honour killing", "traditional family", "reparative marriage", "defence of the race", it has been described as violence by women’s political movements, as part of a social revolution that has denaturalized the separation between public and private space, between production and reproduction, and with them the patriarchal gender social order.

In Italy, there were "episodes" such as Franca Viola’s refusal to accept marriage as compensation for her abduction and rape in 1966 [Article 530 of the Penal Code at the time provided: "The marriage that the perpetrator of the crime contracts with the offended person extinguishes the crime, and if there has been a conviction, its execution and its penal effects cease:" the Circeo crime in 1975 (name given to the abduction, torture, rape and murder inflicted on two young women, Donatella Colasanti and Rosaria Lopez, by three young neo-fascist bourgeois, Andrea Ghira, Gianni Guido, and Angelo Izzo, on the night of September 29-30, 1975 in San Felice Circeo, a seaside town in Lazio): and the broadcast of the programme Processo per stupor (Trial for Rape) in 1979 which burst into the public sphere by revealing the reality that feminists had been denouncing for at least a decade: the existence of a gender conflict, in which violence and rape were legitimate weapons of annihilation and male revenge against the struggle for women’s freedom.

The relationship with criminal law was a controversial issue for the feminist movement from the outset: and it could not have been otherwise, given a fascist penal code that still punished sexual violence as a crime against public morality rather than against the individual. Thus, in addition to the "practice of the trial"—that is, the alliance between lawyers and survivors and the presence of feminist associations and collectives in rape trials—some decided to propose a citizens’ initiative law aimed at modifying the place and definition of the offense in the Penal Code, by recognizing the legal status of women victims of male violence. A symbolic recognition rather than a punitive one.

I will pass quickly over this point, as the comrades of the time have already recounted everything there is to know about it, but I want to highlight the knot that divided feminists at the time, namely the opportunity to use an instrument such as the criminal law of the patriarchal state to address a social, cultural and political problem such as sexual violence which this state itself produces and supports, as well as the possibility and legitimacy of allowing the patriarchal state to legislate on the freedom and bodies of women.

The victim: a voiceless subjectivity

Feminists also clearly saw the risk that criminal law, within the binary paradigm of criminal/victim, would reduce the complexity of the relationships between men and women, which, in most cases of violence, were and are affective, emotional, and sexual in nature. It was particularly on the status of victim, almost naturalized in female subjectivity, that feminist contestation focused: the victim is by definition a voiceless subjectivity, and to merit the protection of the state, she must prove that she is innocent, vulnerable, and defenceless. This conflict was not resolved; the law was only adopted in 1996 with numerous distortions, but that was already a different era.

It was during the first decade of the 2000s that the subject returned to the forefront, in a radically transformed social and political context. These were the years when the so-called "migration emergency" dominated the political debate and when North American-inspired security policies—zero tolerance, the fight against terrorism, the clash of civilizations that erupted after the attack on the Twin Towers—became a paradigm of government functioning in Italy as well.

In 2007, in Rome, Giovanna Reggiani, an Italian woman, mother and wife of a naval admiral, was attacked and killed by a Romanian citizen of Roma origin. This event triggered a moral panic against the "ethnic" rapist of "our women," echoing fascist memory: two security measures were adopted within two years, and sexual violence became a rallying cry for the war against the Other, the scapegoat used to reinforce the construction of a "we" based on ethnic, cultural, and religious identity. Historically, white, "respectable" women are the founding symbol of this identity.

But once again, it is the feminist movement that bursts into this narrative, flooding the streets of Rome with the slogan: “Not in my name”, a slogan is used, and this is no coincidence, to challenge the global war on terror. It is the experience and knowledge of movements, anti-violence centres and collectives that are expressed: "violence has the keys to the house and has no borders", to reaffirm not only that male violence is the act of men, regardless of their passport or religion, but above all that it is the act of men close to us: partners, husbands, exes, parents, etc.

This experience and knowledge have also been incorporated into the methodologies and tools of public research, such as those used in the first national survey, "Violence and Mistreatment Against Women Outside and Within the Family," conducted by ISTAT and published a year before Reggiani’s femicide. This survey opened the country’s eyes to a reality that everyone already knew, that we all already knew: not only have at least a third of Italian women experienced physical or sexual violence at least once in their lives, but the majority of perpetrators are their—our—partners, husbands, lovers, relatives, employers.

It was during these years that the term femicide became established in Italy: borrowed from the Latin American context to describe the veritable, unpunished massacre of women in Ciudad de Juárez, a border city between Mexico and the United States, where women attempting to migrate to the United States, without papers or rights, were trapped and exploited in illegal markets, tortured, and killed with the total and structural complicity of institutions and police forces. It is worth recalling the definition of femicide developed by Marcela Lagarde:

The extreme form of gender-based violence against women, resulting from the violation of their human rights in the public and private spheres, through various misogynistic behaviours — ill-treatment, physical, psychological, sexual, educational, work, economic, property, family, community, institutional violence — which lead to impunity for behaviours implemented both at the social level and by the state and which, by placing women in a position of vulnerability and risk, can lead to their murder or other forms of violent death of women and girls.

Femicide: Use and Limits of the Term

The introduction of this term into the Italian context by certain legal scholars received a mixed reception within the feminist movement. As part of my doctoral thesis, I interviewed several members of feminist and queer collectives who had organized the Not in my name” demonstration. They were asked , among other things, which terms they preferred to use to define male violence against women (among "gender violence," "male violence against women," and "femicide"). All agreed that they did not want to use a term like "femicide," for two main reasons: because it is a term that absolves all responsibility, since it designates neither the perpetrator of the violence nor the social and power relations that characterize gender, and it is essentialist, because it designates only the woman who survived the violence as a victim.

As a feminist criminologist, this is a central aspect for me: feminism is first and foremost a movement of liberation of subjectivities in the face of essentialist processes, such as criminalization and victimization, whose performative power it contests, which crystallizes identities and neutralizes gender conflict as well as the possibility of social change.

In the term "femicide", the reference to the genocide of women is clearly a cry of rage, to paraphrase the slogan of Non Una Di Meno (NUDM), against the patriarchal massacre of women*, but the risk of a tragically static representation of female subjectivity, and of a lack of accountability of men, is clearly visible.

The repercussions of such an approach are of course not only symbolic: as we know, in the wake of the anti-immigration moral panic amplified by the femicide of Giovanna Reggiani and by other attacks overrepresented by the press, a series of essentially security and repressive standards were promulgated: such as the "anti-Roma" decree-law, which provided for the possibility of expulsion even for citizens of the European Union (a norm which is also unconstitutional), and the 2009 decree-law on sexual violence and acts of persecution, entitled precisely "Urgent measures in matters of public security and the fight against sexual violence, as well as in matters of acts of persecution", whose introduction establishes a direct link between sexual violence and immigration, thus justifying the necessity and urgency of a regulation providing for "more effective discipline of the expulsion and deportation of undocumented immigrants, as well as more structured control of the territory", meaning "patrols".

But it was with Law No. 119/2013 that the term "femicide" entered the normative vocabulary, at least in the declarative rhetoric of press releases and the title presented in public discourse: "The Anti-Femicide Law." This is not the place to go into detail about the provisions contained in this package: I will limit myself to emphasizing that, in this case as well, it was a series of incoherent standards which, in addition to the now unavoidable implementation of the Anti-Violence Plan provided for by the Istanbul Convention ratified two years earlier by Italy, mixed measures of different natures in a purely emergency-driven logic.

Meanwhile, the term has gradually become established in the Italian feminist lexicon. In the 2017 NUDM Feminist Plan against Male Violence against Women and Gender-Based Violence, "femicide" accompanied the definition of gender-based violence as the "tip of the iceberg," and the Observatory on Femicides, Lesbicides, and Trans* cides defines it as "the murder of a person [that] occurs for reasons related to power relations and patriarchal gender violence." But the heart of the problem remains male violence against women, which is systemic: it permeates all areas of our lives, intertwining, feeding off, and relentlessly ripples from the family and relational sphere to the economic sphere, from the political and institutional sphere to the social and cultural sphere, in its various forms and facets—such as physical, sexual, and psychological violence.

This is therefore not an emergency issue, nor is it a geographically or culturally defined problem. Male violence is the direct expression of the oppression known as patriarchy, a system of male power that has permeated culture, politics, and public and private relations, both materially and symbolically. Oppression and inequality between the sexes are therefore not sporadic or exceptional; on the contrary, they are structural.

A logic of "manifest laws"

According to NUDM, violence against women and femicides constitute a structural phenomenon, not only from a social and cultural perspective, but also in terms of statistics. This is revealed respectively by the second national survey by ISTAT on violence and by data from the Ministry of the Interior on homicides: in the first case, eight years after the first survey, violence shows only slight fluctuations; in the second, while homicides of men have been steadily declining in recent years, those of women remain more or less stable. And this is despite the frantic rush to emergency measures, such as the two "Red Codes" (Law No. 69/2019 and Law No. 168/2023) which provided for additional secondary prevention measures, new offences and increased penalties for those already provided for by the Penal Code, thus reinforcing the "perception of violence against women as an emergency phenomenon to be dealt with exclusively by penal and security measures", as highlighted by Lella Paladino of the DiRe network .

We are faced with an inorganic system of legislation that often follows parallel paths depending on the urgency of the moment, media interest in certain isolated incidents, and the logic of "manifesto laws," which are more useful for gaining political advantage than for systematically addressing a complex, deep-rooted, and multifaceted phenomenon like gender-based violence. The three-year plans to combat violence, as stipulated by Law 119/2013 implementing the Istanbul Convention, which are specifically designed to programme all strategic and operational actions concerning the fight against and prevention of gender-based violence at the national level, are consistently approved late, as the networks of Anti-Violence Centers (CAVs) and the main national associations working in the field have pointed out, waiting for a symbolic date (November 25 or March 8) before being publicly announced.

The 2023-25 Plan never materialized, and the announced 2025-27 Plan has still not been published. But security-driven interventionism has continued unabated: on March 8 of this year, at a triumphant and unexpected press conference, chaired by the Minister of Family, Birth Rate and Equal Opportunities (sic!), the new bill on femicide was announced: a standard that establishes femicide as a standalone crime punishable by life imprisonment.

A real bombshell. A "poisoned blunder," as lawyer Maria Virgilio described it. The offense is defined as follows:

Anyone who causes the death of a woman when the act is committed through discrimination or hatred towards the victim as a woman, or to repress the exercise of her rights or freedoms, or, in any case, the expression of her personality, is punishable by life imprisonment.

The minister herself stated:

Since the beginning of our mandate, we have always placed the fight against violence against women at the centre of our concerns; an initial legislative intervention with deferred arrest in the act of committing an offense and security measures, then on prevention tools. Femicides have decreased only very slightly, so we deemed it necessary to intervene again: we did so first of all by circumscribing for the first time the specific nature of the offense of femicide: an autonomous offense of femicide.

The inherent contradiction in this statement is glaring. We have increased the number of offences, increased the penalties, and strengthened restrictive measures (the only form of prevention the minister can seem to conceive of), but it hasn’t been enough. It has had no effect, so we continue down the same path. Even though there is no scientific evidence that increased penalties have any deterrent effect whatsoever, we persist.

The minister described the government’s decision as "a disruptive choice, not only legally, but also culturally." This comes as a minister in her government, Giuseppe Valditara, who should be the driving force behind cultural policy, had the audacity, within a few months, to assert: a) that patriarchy ended in 1975 with the new family law; b) that "only the West knows history," as stated in the New Guidelines for Preschool and Early Childhood Education; and c) that "the increase in sexual violence is also linked to forms of marginalization and deviance stemming, in a way, from illegal immigration."

In the good company of the Minister of Justice, Carlo Nordio, who declared ineffably: "certain ethnic groups do not share our sensitivity towards women." The combination of these statements reflects the racist, colonial, orientalist, and patriarchal cultural melting pot of a government that approves a bill on femicide as a standalone crime punishable by life imprisonment. And let the minister, who calls herself a feminist, reassure herself by discoursing on femicides as "the reflection of a much deeper asymmetry rooted in human history, namely the asymmetry of power between men and women, the asymmetry in private relations between men and women." the asymmetry with regard to women’s freedom, the recognition and respect of women’s freedom, the freedom to say no, to leave, to change one’s mind": it is here that we clearly understand how important it is, in the production of discursive orders, to know who is speaking and from where they are speaking.

Where is women’s freedom in the counselling centres besieged by the pro-life associations you have granted access to, or in the schools where, instead of funding sex education and diversity programmes, courses on fertility and birth rates are promoted? I ask myself this, and I ask the comrades who have subscribed to the discourse of the symbolic recognition of femicide as a historical turning point: don’t you smell the bitter aftertaste of this blunder?

Unfortunately, and this is no coincidence, this announcement comes just weeks after Filippo Turetta, Giulia Cecchettin’s murderer, was sentenced to life imprisonment. A horrific femicide, committed with a knife (75 blows), as we learned when the life sentence was handed down last December. The reasons for the sentence, published a few days ago, sparked a heated debate within feminist circles, a debate I won’t dwell on, as others, more qualified than I, have already done so. I will simply highlight another ambivalence with which two keywords used by the judges, repeated and amplified in the press and on social media, have been perceived by the public: "cruelty" and "inexperience," in reference to Turetta ’s actions.

The questions that arise from these discussions can only be answered if we ask ourselves where we stand when we try to answer them. Is this cruelty, denied by the judgment, a purely technical device, which doesn’t speak everyday language, and therefore we cannot comment on it because our frame of reference lies elsewhere? Or must we challenge the legal lexicon because it is itself a social and therefore political fact that produces effects of truth and impact on our reality? I lean toward the second option, but I wonder: is that all we should do? A life sentence was handed down, even without cruelty: is life imprisonment a mistake, is cruelty justified? Are both wrong? What about the causes and effects of this fact?

A blunt weapon

A truly accurate point was sadly made by Giulia’s father, who described the verdict as "a defeat for everyone": because a life sentence cannot undo the pain, loss, and suffering of someone who is no longer here; because this femicide could and should have been prevented; because the "sentence without end" clause offers no glimmer of hope for possible change. Life imprisonment is simply another immutable fate, for the one who must endure it and for the rest of society: what will we have learned from the expulsion of a person from social life? Only, perhaps, to be afraid—of ourselves, of them, of what happened and what we do not understand.

Nothing about the why, nothing about what we could have done, nothing about what we will do next time, because there will be more, and there have been more in the meantime, despite twenty years of punitive legislation, increased sentences, and a proliferation of offenses. Consider Ilaria Sula and Sara Campanella, two other twenty-two-year-old students, like Giulia Cecchettin, killed by two men barely older than themselves: the first by her ex, the second by a man who couldn’t accept her rejection. The motives, that is, what drove these two young men to take their lives, are always the same: the inability to accept women’s freedom, the fear of being abandoned and losing control of their lives, the deadly mix of love and possession—I say this even though we know that neither violence nor obsessive jealousy can be confused with love, but it is a necessary and political statement!

I will add something that comes from feminist political thought, particularly from bell hooks (2022), who wrote on this subject things I have literally struggled with as a feminist, but which I cannot ignore as a former staffer at a centre for perpetrators of violence (yes, sometimes the "who is speaking and from where?" question is also within ourselves): we have fought for decades to depathologize male violence by defining it as an instrument and an effect of the patriarchal system of power relations in society; and yet, can we really deny that this same system produces suffering, a profound dissonance between desire and social expectations, between obligatory and violent performativity and the need for love, an inability to feel, see, and understand the other? In saying this, we would contradict ourselves in our critique of current capitalism, its mechanisms for creating and subjugating identities, discipline, and so on. We are immersed in insoluble ambivalences, and binary thinking is always a blunt weapon, not just when we see it outside of ourselves.

There are therefore different levels in the order of discourse that must be kept in mind, which are integral to the problem and how we must confront it: there is the political level, which must define a horizon of possibility, a demand for what should be; there is the critique of the existing order, which is there in the meantime and which we cannot deny, which produces the reality with which we deal, even if we don’t want it to, or not in this way; there is emotion, indignation, anger. All of this coexists and multiplies the ambivalences with which we must reckon.

When feminists in the 1970s demanded the renaming of sexual violence as a crime and its relocation to the penal code, did they thereby accept that criminal law should be the primary instrument in the fight against patriarchy? No, I believe none of them could have supported that. At the same time, this relocation produced a symbolic and material wound that could no longer be tolerated, and on this point as well, I don’t believe there can be any objections.

Because the criminal justice system exists whether we like it or not (at least for some of us), and at least as long as it continues to exist, it would be decidedly short-sighted, or out of touch with reality, to think that it has no tangible effects on our lives. The activists and staff at anti-violence centres, who deal with the intricacies of the criminal justice system every day, teach us that certain resources can be used, even if they are part of a system that, as a whole, doesn’t work, or that only works well for others, or that was created to protect people other than ourselves. This is where we are, and this is where we must know how to navigate, always remembering where we want to go.

31 May 2026

Translated by International Viewpoint from Marx 21.ch, whee it was publmished with the following note: This article was published on the Studi sulla questione criminale website on 17 April 2025 under the title ‘Anatomia di un dibattito femminista: le ambivalenze del nominare il femminicidio’. Translation, subheadings and illustrations by Marx21-ch. The bibliographical references in Italian have been omitted. They can be found in the original version (link above).