Showing posts sorted by relevance for query WAR IS RAPE. Sort by date Show all posts
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Saturday, December 23, 2023

Why sexual violence in war is so widespread — and under-covered

How to understand Hamas’s alleged sexual attacks on October 7.
VOX
Dec 23, 2023, 
A woman lights a candle placed atop a sign showing an Israeli flag with hand-written notes.
 Jack Guez/AFP via Getty Images


As Israeli officials piece together the attacks of October 7, evidence is mounting that Hamas committed crimes of sexual violence against the people it attacked in Israel — both women and men, both dead and alive.

UN testimony delivered earlier this month implicates Hamas and other militants in potential sexual crimes during the rampage in Israel, including shooting at the genitals of the victims, inserting foreign objects into sexual organs, as well as, potentially, rape and other forms of sexual violence. But as the testimonies shared before the UN indicate, investigations into what happened on that day are ongoing and will be complicated by the fact that many of the victims and witnesses are dead.

Sexual violence is horrific in any context, and is always connected to power and domination. But it takes on a different dimension when it is utilized as a tool of war — as it has been for centuries. And even though it is an unfortunately common feature of broader conflict, it’s often misunderstood and is difficult to prosecute — as all war crimes are — making justice for victims a complicated prospect at best.

In the case of the October 7 attacks, high-profile figures, like Sheryl Sandberg and Hillary Clinton, who has also firmly backed Israel’s war in Gaza, have called for more attention to be drawn to the allegations. There has been a fraught discourse over claims the allegations were insufficiently covered and ignored by the United Nations, followed by scrutiny of the motivations of those who are highlighting it and how this all plays into the world’s understanding of October 7 and Israel’s ensuing war in Gaza. It’s worth pointing out: Sexual violence in conflict is often under-covered relative to the gravity of the harms inflicted.

The United Nations and Israel are now seriously pursuing these allegations. The UN secretary-general on conflict-related sexual violence has requested access to information to investigate the assaults, and a UN Commission of Inquiry collecting evidence of war crimes — including sexual violence — committed by all sides in Israel and the occupied Palestinian territories since October 7 was established in the days following the attacks.

Testimony and evidence available so far indicates that some horrific forms of sexual violence did occur on October 7. (Hamas, for its part, has denied that its fighters would engage in that specific kind of brutality.) But it’s not yet clear how widespread that sexual violence was, and it may be unclear for many months to come, in part because Israel has been somewhat circumspect in releasing information, given the sensitive nature of the alleged crimes.

What is known is that violent conflict almost always includes sexual violence — in fact, as one expert Vox spoke to said, it is actually an inherent, if under-examined, aspect of conflict.
What we know about sexual violence on October 7

Israeli authorities have collected testimony from witnesses and first responders, as well as footage gathered from militants as they attacked towns and villages, as part of the Israeli government’s investigation into the sexual crimes that Hamas and other militants allegedly perpetrated. Evidence is still emerging and may be difficult to ascertain in full — gathering that evidence becomes forensically challenging as dead bodies decompose. And it may take time for survivors — including, potentially, hostages — to be able to recount their experiences and share them with the authorities, since sexual trauma often carries with it shame, doubt, and confusion.

Conflict-related sexual violence encompasses a broad and evolving set of crimes that don’t necessarily involve rape; sexually invasive searches, groping, stripping and public shaming, and damaging or maiming sexual organs are all forms of sexual violence, as is coercion into sexual acts to secure favorable treatment, shelter, food, or security in conflict or in captivity.

Following the October 7 attack in Israel, witnesses have presented testimony about nails and other objects being placed in the sexual organs of at least one victim, as well as evidence that militants shot at the sexual organs of victims. Israeli police have also collected witness testimony that indicates militants violently raped some of the victims, CNN reported earlier this month. However, the police do not have first-hand testimony from survivors, because it’s not clear there are any left. (Israel’s Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, after meeting with released hostages, has said that Hamas and militants in Gaza are sexually assaulting female hostages.)

The investigation thus far has released limited information, with authorities navigating the tension between respecting the privacy of victims and ensuring the world knows about the violence.

“There’s an effort by the [Israeli] government … to not really reveal yet a lot of what happened for various reasons, both to protect the people who were released, and the people who are still captive, and maybe other reasons that we’re not aware,” Mairav Zonszein, senior Israel analyst with the International Crisis Group, told Vox. “So there’s a lot of fog around all of it.”
Putting the sexual violence of October 7 in context

Though sexual violence in conflict is not new, sexual violence at this scale in this particular conflict, at least by Palestinian actors, is, Zonszein said. (There is documented evidence of rape and sexual assault by Israeli troops against Palestinians during the Nakba, though since then, many scholars argue that sexual violence by Israel Defense Forces against Palestinians is rare during conflict. However, state-sponsored sexual violence against Palestinians does occur in other contexts, like in Israeli prisons and by Israeli settlers in the territories. As with all sexual violence, it’s difficult to evaluate how widespread these phenomena are due to limits in self-reporting.)

There could be many reasons for this; one is simply the unprecedented scale of Hamas’s attack, as well as the nature of it. Rather than the suicide bombings or rocket attacks Hamas has intermittently used against Israel over the last decade, Hamas and the Palestinian Islamic Jihad fighters who breached the Gaza border fence to attack Israeli towns and villages were face-to-face with their victims in ways Palestinian militants hadn’t been in previous conflicts — creating the opportunity to commit sexual violence.

Another possibility, if indeed the attacks were premeditated as Israeli officials have insisted, is that Hamas may have intentionally used the tactic as part of the group’s broader plan to provoke a massive reaction from Israel. If so, Jennie Burnet, director of the Institute for Women’s, Gender and Sexuality Studies at Georgia Southern University, said it’s worth asking if they picked up the tactic of using sexual violence from other extremist groups they are in contact with, such as the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, which routinely uses sexual violence as a terror tactic against Iranians.

“It’s really important that it be investigated what precisely happened,” Burnet said. “Whether it was Hamas soldiers or militants taking their own initiatives, or whether it was planned and systematic, I think that is an important thing to uncover.”
Sexual violence is intrinsic to war throughout history

Sexual violence is extremely common throughout the history of conflict and conquest, though our understanding of what constitutes sexual violence within conflict is evolving. For example, the idea of enslaved people or concubines who were always at a ruler’s disposal for sex would have been thought of as slavery or membership in a royal court rather than as conflict-related sexual violence centuries ago. The taking of “brides” or sex slaves, as ISIS did to Yazidi women in Iraq as it captured land to build its caliphate, is now considered a clear-cut case of sexual violence.

UN peacekeepers in Haiti, insurgent groups like the Rapid Support Forces in Sudan, state actors like Japan’s use of Korean “comfort women,” and Russian forces raping Ukrainians are among the wide variety of perpetrators. Academic literature, especially that which centers on avenues for justice, often focuses on cases of systemic sexual violence — most often in the Rwandan genocide and in the Bosnian war, as the violence was so widespread, systemic, and ethnically motivated. These conflicts also led to the first international tribunals to include prosecutions for conflict-related sexual violence, and the documentation, study, and prosecution of these cases greatly advanced the study of conflict-related sexual violence.

“The prosecution of sexual violence by the [International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda and the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia] transformed scholarly studies of gender and war, as well as international human rights law,” Burnet said. Other instances, like the abuse of Korean women by Japanese soldiers and longstanding patterns of sexual violence by armed groups in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, remain under-studied.

But no matter who is perpetrating this violence or where it’s happening, it’s part of conflict because it serves a purpose — really, three purposes. First, experts say, it telegraphs to a community under siege that nowhere and no one is safe; second, it destabilizes the targeted society by fraying community and familial bonds, often by targeting women who often maintain those bonds; and third, it breaks the “gender contract” of a society, shattering the illusion that a society’s men can “protect” its women from violence.

“Sexual violence is very, very effective in destroying the women and girls of a particular community, but also the repercussions are massive, in terms of [disrupting] entire communities, entire families, entire communities, and entire nations,” said Joanna Bourke, a historian who has written extensively about sexual violence, war, and conflict.

This violence has devastating repercussions for women in terms of unintended pregnancies, disease, and injury to their sexual organs, Bourke said, but it also can create a cycle of harm, particularly for any children born from the sexual violence of the invading or adversarial forces. Significant evidence “shows that these children are highly abused, they have a real marginal existence within their communities, and have a disruptive presence within their communities, because they are constant reminders of the war, and what went wrong,” she told Vox.

This is not to say that men are never the victims of conflict-related sexual violence; they are, and likely far more often than is reported. There are more extreme examples, but one of the most jarring was the series of photos of detained Iraqi men coming from Abu Ghraib prison in 2004. American soldiers participated in and took photos of the men naked and piled on top of each other, and forced them to perform sexual acts, in a horrific pattern of sexual humiliation and abuse.

“Sexual violence [against] men in military conflicts has been kind of ignored, mainly because it doesn’t or doesn’t always … involve rape,” Bourke said. “But it does involve sexual humiliation, it does involve the crushing of testicles, it does involve all those sorts of things,” which researchers had previously classified as torture. “It turns out to be extremely high levels of sexual abuse against men in modern conflicts, but it simply was being categorized differently, because they were men and not women.”
Can victims of sexual violence in war find justice?

The Geneva Conventions, the post-World War II international agreements that form the basis for international humanitarian law (IHL), “require the parties to an armed conflict to protect women against rape, and to protect women and children from indecent assault,” Adil Haque, a professor at Rutgers Law School who specializes in the law of armed conflict, told Vox.

Though it is unlawful under the Geneva Conventions, sexual violence in conflict is difficult to prosecute in ordinary civilian courts, especially in places where gender inequality is pronounced and societal understanding of sex crimes is limited, as it was in Rwanda following the genocide of the Tutsi people by the Hutu militias. “In Rwanda before the genocide, there [was no] precise word for rape or sexual violence in the local language, Kinyarwanda, and most Rwandan traditions are around dealing with sexual impropriety,” Burnet said. “They didn’t address rape, they addressed inappropriate sexual relationships between men and women.” And although rape was against the law at the time of the genocide, “at the time rape was not clearly defined.”

However, in both Rwanda and Bosnia, “women survivors of sexual violence in the conflict ... wanted legal recourse, and they wanted their perpetrators held to account before courts whenever possible,” Burnet told Vox. “And there’s documented cases in both countries of women going to great lengths and breaking lots of social taboos by giving testimony before courts about how they were violated, as part of that effort,” as well as, in Rwanda, demanding that the post-conflict national law categorize sexual violence among the most severe crimes of genocide.

Both Rwanda and Bosnia used their national courts to try (largely lower-level) perpetrators of conflict-related sexual violence. Under IHL, national courts are the right venue to try war crimes committed by regular troops, as long as they have the appropriate laws to prosecute conflict-related sexual violence. However, even with the right laws on the books, that doesn’t mean survivors get the justice they deserve; as of 2017, less than 1 percent of the estimated 20,000 Bosnians who suffered conflict-related sexual violence had their cases tried, according to Amnesty International.

Bosnia and Rwanda also set up special tribunals in cooperation with the United Nations, which were intended to go after those in power who directed or facilitated sexual violence in those conflicts, as well as other war crimes and crimes against humanity. Though the international tribunal courts arguably did not go far enough in providing reparations and support for victims of sexual violence, they were the first international criminal tribunals to bring charges pertaining to conflict-related sexual violence.

But many people who have suffered the life-long consequences of conflict-related sexual violence never find a measure of justice, whether that’s in court or a formal apology. Over the decades, disagreements over how to recognize, characterize, and provide reparations for “comfort women,” the Korean women and children who were used as sex slaves for Japanese soldiers during that country’s occupation of the Korean Peninsula, have greatly contributed to the strained relations between the two countries. Despite a 2015 agreement and apology from Japan, it remains contentious; over the past decade, the issue has been litigated in South Korean courts, with Japan denying that the victims were forcibly taken from their homes and objecting to the use of “sexual slavery” to describe the events.

In the context of October 7, Israel has already indicated that it is taking claims of sexual violence seriously, as has the International Criminal Court (ICC).

“Importantly, rape is a war crime under the ICC Statute ... as well as a crime against humanity if committed as part of a widespread or systematic attack on a civilian population,” Haque said. “The ICC prosecutor, from his very first public statements about the conflict, alluded to clear evidence of sexual violence, and has repeatedly identified rape as one of the war crimes that his office is investigating.”

Though the ICC and Israeli police are investigating the reports of sexual violence during Hamas’s attack, Israel is not cooperating with the UN Commission of Inquiry due to perceived anti-Israel bias, which could greatly impede the investigation into war crimes that the commission is mandated to perform. Israel has invited the special representative of the secretary-general on sexual violence in conflict, Pramila Patten, on an official visit to the country, but Israel hasn’t invited the UN agencies with a mandate to investigate the allegations to do so yet. Israel’s investigation into the reports of sexual violence indicates a willingness to try the perpetrators in court, and the ICC could potentially have jurisdiction over some crimes that occurred on October 7, even though Israel is not party to the ICC.

Regardless of how these investigations play out, justice for victims of conflict-related sexual violence is not guaranteed, despite forward steps in its study, understanding, and prosecution.

Ellen Ioanes covers breaking and general assignment news as the weekend reporter at Vox. She previously worked at Business Insider covering the military and global conflicts.

 

A world in which women move freely without fear of men: An anthropological perspective on rape


Abstract

In western scholarly debate, there is nearly universal acceptance of rape as a male trait typical of all time periods and cultures. However, cross-cultural data provide insight into societies where rape is rare or unknown and can therefore be helpful to develop strategies for prevention. The paper focuses on the question why men do not rape in these societies with rape being understood as a crime that reflects male dominance and entitlement.

An earlier finding by Sanday [J. Soc. Issues 37 (1981) 5] that such “rape-free” societies attach importance to the “contributions women make to social continuity” is further analyzed by taking an in-depth look at matrilineal societies. The category “matrilineal” is chosen because these cultures recognize women's contributions to social continuity, and absence or rareness of rape has been repeatedly reported. Data from matrilineal cultures from the relevant literature including my own work in South America are compared with a select body of data discussing western rapists. As the discussion demonstrates, the specific gender dynamics in matrilineal cultures reduce the significance of man's sexual persona and thus male heterosexual authority which mitigates the potential of male dominance and rape.

Introduction

In western scholarly debate, there is nearly universal acceptance of rape as a male trait typical of all time periods and cultures. This view is essentially anchored in assumptions that male dominance is universal. Thornhill and Palmer (2000, p. 83) go so far to attribute a positive evolutionary value to male dominance and violence as factors that contribute to reproductive success: “If females' resistance results in their mating with males adept at overcoming it, the sons of rapists will be similarly adept, having inherited the genes of their fathers.” Therefore, the authors argue, “It is conceivable that in the past women who filtered potential rapists by resisting them bore sons who turned out to be adept at raping and thus may have had more grandchildren than passive females.”

Feminist scholarship has challenged the idea of rape as a natural given. Susan Brownmiller opened the door with her groundbreaking work Against Our Will (1975). Unlike Thornhill and Palmer, Brownmiller does not see rape as an act of nature and an evolutionary triumph but as an act of power and domination, a concept that has been further developed in later feminist debates. MacKinnon (1987, p. 87), for example, focuses on rape as a construct defined by men and the consequences this has for dealing with rape: “The rape law,” Mackinnon (1989, p. 182) argues from a legal perspective, “affirmatively rewards men with acquittals for not comprehending women's point of view on sexual encounters”. Scully's (1990) study of sexual violence views rape as learned behavior within a patriarchal culture. According to her findings rapists as compared to other felons are more likely to believe in a double standard regarding gender roles and they identify more strongly with the traditional male role. In her study of the anti-rape movement, Bevacqua (2000) addresses one of the cornerstones of feminist research, the connection between theory and practice. “For three decades,” Bevacqua (2000, p. 199) observes, “the movement has been calling into question the sexual entitlement of American men.” She believes that advances have been made when she concludes, “At its core, the anti-rape movement is a threat to the male right of sexual dominance.”

As the record indicates, both feminist and misogynist scholars talk about what will be referred to here as “rape culture” though they clearly understand its causes and impact very differently. As used in the following discussion, “rape culture”, a term coined by Hall and Flannery (1984, p. 404), refers to a system that produces assailants who “may believe that normal sexual relationships involve male dominance and female resistance. Rape may be a way of proving one's manhood, an important concern for adolescent males.” In rape cultures, dominance and control over women become aspects of achieving and experiencing masculinity, and rape, while not condoned, becomes part of the culture at large. But while the concept of rape culture postulates that rape is the result of social forces it does not clarify if these forces operate universally. This is a point where feminist debate needs to go further and employ a cross-cultural approach.

Helliwell (2000, p. 797), an anthropologist from Australia, who says she admits having shared the view of rape as a universal began to question this hypothesis when she became confronted with the issue in a community in Borneo “in which rape does not occur.” Her observation, however, is not an isolated incident. The hypothesis of rape as an inevitable factor in human culture, indeed, vanishes in the view of cross-cultural evidence, which shows that there are cultures in which rape is unknown or occurs so rarely that a different gender profile emerges as compared to our own. This means that we have to ask new questions. Thus, rather than, as Palmer (1989, p. 12) suggests, to place “emphasis on identifying the ways in which certain cultures are inefficient in discouraging males from raping,” we need to ask, “Why do men not rape?” The question is not directed at the individual level but at cultures in general, that is, how do “rape cultures” differ from non- (or low-) rape cultures?

Sanday began this discussion in 1981. Using the Human Relations Area Files as her database, she concluded that “rape-free” societies do exist. In this category, she included cultures with extremely low incidents of rape. According to Sanday (1981, p. 18), two major factors are responsible for the absence or low incident of rape: First, “rape-free” societies are characterized by sexual equality and the notion that the sexes are complementary.” Second, “the key to understanding the relative absence of rape…is the importance… attached to the contribution women make to social continuity.”

Sanday has been criticized for her interpretation of some of the data (see esp. Palmer, 1989). Indeed, the issue of data interpretation is riddled with many difficulties especially in this area of research. Above all, we face the problem of definition and the availability of statistical evidence. However, these peculiarities of the data situation affect all scholars dealing with rape.

In this paper, I will approach the issue of rape by focusing on matrilineal societies.1

I choose matriliny as a category for three reasons. First, we have evidence from many such cultures that allow us to define them as “rape-free” following Sanday's definition.2

Secondly, they prominently acknowledge women's contributions to social continuity and thus reflect Sanday's second category. And, thirdly, they fit Sanday's first category of sexual complementarity. The database is constituted from matrilineal societies for which information on rape is available and includes North and South America, Oceania, Asia, and Africa. This paper addresses only rape of women by men and defines rape as an act reflecting male dominance and entitlement associated with sexual violence against women. Rape becomes a specific expression of gender dynamics in a given society. Since different cultures create different gender dynamics we can expect to find wide variation with regard to definition and perception of rape and different approaches dealing with it. A discussion of these issues must, however, also include the possibility of rape not existing at all.

In the following, I list evidence from rape-free or low-rape cultures for which further extensive ethnographic data exist which allow us to situate this information in a wider context.

For the Iroquois, several sources make the claim that rape is unknown Canfield, 1902, Seaver, 1932, Stone, 1838. Especially telling is a letter from 1779 written by General Clinton to his lieutenant in which he holds up the Iroquois warrior as a role model: “Bad as the savages are, they never violate the chastity of women, their prisoners. Although I have very little apprehension that any of the soldiers will so far forget their character as to attempt such a crime on the Indian women who may fall into their hands, yet it will be well to take measures to prevent such a stain upon our army ” (Stone, 1838, I, p. 404; see also Hewitt, 1932, p. 483). That general Clinton had, indeed, reason to be worried is apparent from the following remark by General Patton almost 200 years later (Patton, 1947, p. 23) with regard to western soldiers during the Second World War WW II: “I then told him that, in spite of my most diligent efforts, there would unquestioningly be some raping, and that I should like to have the details as early as possible so that the offenders could be properly hanged.” The general obviously does not condone rape and promises “proper” punishment. But it gives the reader of Patton's autobiography pause that a man as powerful as he cannot—“in spite of his most diligent efforts”—prevent rape. Both, generals Clinton and Patton see western men, at least during war times as potential rapists.

Iroquois and Western cultures, obviously, hold different views of masculinity as is evident from various statements doubting Iroquois men's masculinity and heroism in battle (cf. Randle, 1950, Stone, 1841), a view that also surfaces in remarks about rape as in the following which suggests the absence of rape due to a low sex drive:

I may here observe, that I don't remember to have heard an instance of these savages offering to violate the chastity of any of the fair sex who have fallen into their hands; this is principally owing to a natural inappetancy in their constitution (Anonymous, 1977 [1780], p. 5).

All of these observations and comments do not explain the rape-free character of Iroquois society but reflect the acceptance of rape as a given in the West.

Among the Ashanti in West Africa rape is seen as incongruous. Rattray (1927, p. 211) mentions only one case. The perpetrator was condemned to death.

For Oceania, various rape-free societies are reported. Nash, for example, working on Bougainville, found that her informants had problems even understanding the concept of rape: “Rape is practically non-existent,” writes Nash (1987, p. 164), the people “could not quite imagine how it would work (the woman would cry out [and people would help her]).” Lepowsky (1993, p. 292) documented the same for Vanatinai. She emphasizes the complementary roles of the sexes rather than the matrilineal structure: “Both women and men are brought up to have assertive personalities. But physical violence against women—and men—is abhorred and occurs only rarely. I have never heard of a case of rape. One of the last battles on the island took place as retaliation for a man's attack on his wife.”

Among the Mosuo of Southwest China rape is completely unknown (Knoedel, 1997, p. 344). Crime and murder are extremely rare. Furthermore, the Mosuo have astonished the West as well as their Chinese Han neighbors by rejecting marriage. While these data only state the absence of rape without giving an explanation, the next examples discuss motives for rejecting rape as unacceptable behavior.

For several societies, it is reported that rape is not only rare but also seen as a shameful act which puts a man's virility and his very humanity in question.

Among the Apache (Farrer, 1999), “Until very recent times, no proper male person would rape a female person (local or enemy), because the rapist lost face not being ‘man enough’ to get a woman on his own.” “An Apache man suffers enormous status loss by forcing himself sexually on anyone: ‘He does not even deserve to be called a man, a human being’” (Farrer, 1997, p. 242).

Sanday (1986, p. 84) reports for the Minangkabau that a rapist's “masculinity is ridiculed and he faces assault, perhaps death, or he might be driven from his village never to return.”

The Trobrianders present still another example that a man using force will face ridicule and shame. While Sanday lists the Trobrianders under her “rape-free” category, Palmer (1989, p. 10), quoting Malinowski (1929, p. 489f), states that rape exists and reports that the Trobrianders have a special word for rapist “tokolos” [sic]. But Palmer does not read Malinowski very carefully nor does he cite him correctly. Reading Malinowski's original text suggests a different picture: Explaining that the Trobrianders “attach shame to erotic unsuccess”, Malinowski (1929, p. 489f) writes that “Censure of lechery in a man has the same foundation. Tokokolosi (sic) is the word used to denote a man who pursues women and inflicts his attentions on them.” The example following (pp. 490–491) raises questions if this is, indeed, a rape situation. In a general comment on Trobriand sexual attitudes Malinowski (1929, p. 491) (emphasis added) makes it even clearer that to the Trobriands rape represents conduct not compatible with successful masculinity: “The whole attitude of the Trobrianders towards sexual excess displays an appreciation of restraint and dignity, and an admiration for success; not only for what it gives to a man, but because it means that he is above any need for active aggression. The moral command not to violate, solicit, or touch is founded on a strong conviction that it is shameful; and shameful because real worth lies in being coveted, in conquering by charm, by beauty and by magic.”

Among the Guajiro of South America, rape is considered a heinous crime. It took years before some of my informants admitted to me that rape occurred. Discussion about violence against and abuse of women indicated that our definitions—theirs and mine—differed. One woman told me that she had been raped during her puberty ritual while being inside the seclusion hut. It is, however, unthinkable by Guajiro standards that a rape could occur under such circumstances. As I kept asking her to explain this to me the woman described how a young man had been looking at her through the walls of her hut. Clearly, this was a grave breach of privacy. But it would not be called rape in many places. In another case, a young woman received the visit of a man who hoped to marry her. The mother, who was interested in this match, had left the daughter at home with a younger child of the family knowing full well (according to the daughter) that the suitor would visit her. He tried to talk her into having sex with him, but she refused. He did not rape her and he left the rancho late at night. The woman, telling me this many years later, blamed her mother for having left her alone that night and thus facilitating the encounter (Watson-Franke, 1983). But, she also blamed the nuns in the mission school she had attended for not having prepared her properly for adult life. She claimed that women who do not engage in sex had no business educating young females. Guajiros in general, though women more strongly, will always insist that sex has to be dealt with in a responsible manner and that women must be treated with utmost respect. Therefore, if the unspeakable occurs, the victim must undergo a ritual so she can reenter community and life as it was before the crime (Watson-Franke, 1982).

Guajiro women of the desert, however, do not live under the cloud of rape, they are not afraid. A personal experience will illustrate that. I remember walking with my guide in the desert late in the evening. It was already after 11:00 PM and we still had some way to go. I felt uncomfortable but said nothing not to upset her. The next day, however, I brought up the issue to avoid such nightly walks in the future. She replied, yes, she had been scared, too. This, of course, confirmed my conviction that the desert was as unsafe for a woman traveling at night as the big cities. When I then mentioned that a man in Europe had attacked me, she looked surprised and replied: “You were afraid of people? Oh no, there is no reason for that. I was thinking of the snakes.” How different our fears had been.

I will now turn to one of the factors identified as eliminating or reducing rape and rape-proneness, that is women's contributions to social continuity.

Section snippets

Women's conributions to social continuity

At the core of this issue lies the maternal role of women.3 Traditional western scholarship frequently reduced matrilineal motherhood to 

Men's contributions to social continuity

Since women situate the next generation socially, historically, economically, and politically, matriliny greatly diminishes the need for the certainty and authority of paternity. This position is contrary to the western view that social continuity and thus stability are to be anchored in a strong male authoritarian sex-based presence. Matrilineal and western cultures clearly hold different views of the impact and meaning of fatherhood. Rattray, for example, noting an absence of patria potestas

The importance of male heterosexual authority in western cultures

Male heterosexual authority is a patriarchal phenomenon. Therefore, and, for comparative reasons, we will briefly consider some aspects of rape and rape-proneness in western patriarchal cultures where the presence of a strong controlling paternal authority is seen as the basis for the development of mature masculinity. Paternal absence, on the other hand, is believed to produce rape-proneness. As Thornhill and Palmer (2000, p. 77), for example, have stated: “It appears that cues during boys

Concluding remarks

Matrilineal systems display features that much of western discourse has traditionally associated with rape and rape-proneness. But this whole scenario, as we have seen from some research, is not all that clear cut. The paper addresses two of these features: First, fathers in matrilineal systems are marginal in the family structure and do not represent male authority. This allegedly leads to rape-proneness. Second, men acknowledge the autonomy and authority of women and do not and should not

2002



Monday, July 31, 2023

The Violence of Our Imaginations: War, Women, Nation

This content was originally written for an undergraduate or Master's program. It is published as part of our mission to showcase peer-leading papers written by students during their studies. This work can be used for background reading and research, but should not be cited as an expert source or used in place of scholarly articles/books.

In 1971, multiple wars broke out in East Pakistan: a civil war between East and West Pakistan, with East Pakistan aiming to create a separate nation-state of Bangladesh, an internal war between the Bengali and Urdu-speaking populations of East Pakistan, and an international war between India and Pakistan. The war ended on 16th December 1971 with the creation of the independent state of Bangladesh. While these wars are well documented in history, one that has gone by relatively undocumented in formal history is the gender war that broke out against the women of East Pakistan (Saikia 3). In less than nine months, 200,000-400,000 women were raped, and tens of thousands were forcibly impregnated (Takai 193). After the war ended, the newly elected government of Bangladesh eulogised the women victims of rape by giving them the title of Birangona, i.e., brave women, and launched a rehabilitation programme for them (Saikia 64). While these are the statistics for one ethno-nationalist war, evidence for similar gendered wars being waged on women’s bodies can be found for almost all of them — what explains the pervasive nature of sexual violence during ethno-nationalist wars?

Through this paper, I aim to analyse the relationship between using motherhood as the dominant image through which women are symbolised in nationalist projects and the violence perpetrated against them during and in the aftermath of ethno-nationalist wars. I argue that the imagined position of women as reproducers of a nation and markers of its cultural boundaries leads to the violation of their bodily autonomy being interpreted as a transgression of the collective’s boundaries and hence, forms an essential motivation behind the wide-scale perpetration of sexual violence during ethno-nationalist wars. I move on to show that in the aftermath of war, the state recasts women into the same positions as mothers to further its nationalist agendas. To do so, it re-narrativises women’s experiences while simultaneously silencing the voices of individual women that pose a challenge to this narrative. This shapes a distinct form of epistemic violence against women in which they are stripped of their agency to share their own experiences. I study this relationship between the position of women in nationalist discourses and the violence against them through the case study of the Bangladesh Liberation War of 1971.

Masculine Nation, Feminine Boundaries

Since the late eighteenth century, nation-states have formed the dominant mode of organising society. While the definition of a nation has been widely contested, the existing literature can be divided into two categories — first which seeks to define a nation in civic and political terms, and second, which seeks to define it in ethnic, religious and cultural terms. In the former imagination, a nation is defined as a group of territorially bound people governed by the same law and represented by the same legislature (Brubaker 7). In the latter, a nation is conceptualised as a group of people united by their shared history, descent, culture and language, coming together to organise themselves into governable units (Brubaker 12). In both definitions, nations are conceptualised as membership and territorial units.

Theorists of nations and nationalisms agree on another feature of nation-states – all nations are exclusionary by nature, and therefore, the imagination of the nationalist self is closely tied to that of the other. Benedict Anderson puts forth the argument that nations are imagined as “inherently limited” — even the most prominent nations have well-defined boundaries of both their territory and members, beyond which lie other nations and their members (Anderson 7). Boundaries are constructed to divide people into the categories of us and them and stretch them across generations. A variety of political, legal and cultural discourses are employed to build these boundaries of national groups — and it is in the representation and reproduction of such limitations that the role of women becomes visible in otherwise male-dominated nationalist projects.

In primordialist theories, nations are often imagined as extensions of family and kinship relations. In such imaginations, the role of women is understood in the context of familial relations as mothers, daughters and sisters. They are seen to symbolise the family’s and, by extension of it, the nation’s honour and are shown as needing protection by their male counterparts. In non-primordialist theories, women have either been completely ignored or relegated strictly to the private realm. Nira Yuval-Davis and Floya Anthias argue that nationalist discourses construct the role of women in two crucial ways, first, as symbols of national culture and honour (Yuval-Davis 17). Second, by virtue of their ability to bear children, they are viewed as biological producers of the nation and transmitters of its culture (Yuval-Davis and Anthias 7). In doing so, nationalist discourses construct women as the “embodiments of the boundaries of ethnic and national groups” (Yuval-Davis 1, 18). The depiction of women as symbols of national and cultural honour and boundaries, combined with their exclusion from the active body which shapes the nationalist vision, pushes women towards an object rather than a subject position (ibid. 19). As the construction of women as biological producers and embodiments of ethnic boundaries of a nation is ideologically compatible with women’s position as mothers, it breaks down the public/private dichotomy within which women are typically situated. As a result, the imagination of women as nationalist mothers and embodiments of ethnic boundaries becomes acceptable and the dominant form of imagination and national mobilisation in both primordialist and non-primordialist theories of nations.

During the War

Through this section, I aim to analyse how the aforementioned imagination of women as markers and reproducers of the national collective’s boundaries in nationalist discourses shapes the violence perpetrated against them during ethno-nationalist wars. In particular, through the case of the Bangladesh Liberation War, I will focus on two forms of gendered violence perpetrated against women during ethno-nationalist wars — wartime rape and forced impregnation.

Wartime Rape

Ethno-nationalist conflicts, irrespective of their geographical location, root causes, scale and form, have one feature in common — the widespread use of rape against women of the communities involved in the conflict (Peltola 5). The scale and pervasiveness of this form of rape in wars is evident from the coining of the term wartime rape. Jonathan Gotschall defines wartime rape as “the distinct pattern of rape by soldiers at rates that are much increased over rates of rape that prevail in peacetime” (Gotschall 129). He argues that the perpetration of wartime rape differs from rape during peacetime on three fronts: scale, nature and motivation. The scale is at least 300%-400% more than in times of peace, women of all age groups are targeted, mutilation of body parts is common, and at least a part of the motivation is external to individual desire and sexual gratification. Therefore, it is crucial to understand its perpetration as a separate category, as a decisive tactic of war rather than as incidental to the conflict. Strategic rape theory does exactly this. The theory posits that rape is a tactic, a conscious and planned military policy that soldiers perpetrate in service of larger strategic objectives of the war (ibid. 131).

Once understood as a strategy of war, it is vital to ask what motivates the use of the strategy of rape as opposed to other strategies of mass victimisation of women of the enemy community (such as femicide)? Proponents of strategic rape theory, such as Davis Buss, argue that it is because “rape is a crime against a collectivity” (Buss 150). However, the question remains — what makes it possible for the rape of a woman to be interpreted as a crime against the entire collectivity when no other form of violence perpetrated against an individual is perceived as such? I argue that the public imagination of women as the embodiments of a nation’s borders and honour makes it possible for transgressions of their bodily autonomy to be seen as transgressions of the collective’s boundaries by both sides of the war. It allows for the rape of a woman to be interpreted as the victimisation of an entire community which inflicts irreparable harm to the community’s culture and honour. This forms an essential motivation behind its wide-scale perpetration during ethno-nationalist wars.

Several international treaties have defined rape as ‘a crime against honour’ rather than physical, emotional and psychological torture of the victim (“Practice Relating to”). ‘Whose honour?’ is a question that remains unanswered. The construction of women in nationalist discourses allows wartime rape to denote a crime against the honour of men and nations rather than individual women. As we observed earlier, nationalist discourses imagine women in familial roles of mothers, sisters and daughters and ascribe to men the duty of protecting the women and, consequently, the nation. Nitin Pai notes that this image of men as protectors was severely under attack during the Bangladesh War. The Pakistani Army conducted several “search and destroy” operations in the countryside — this involved the burning down of entire villages, which were viewed as aiding rebel fighters (Pai 4). While the men were killed, the women were victims of what Pai refers to as “hit-and-run rapes” — the raping of women in front of their sons, brothers and fathers, who were forced to helplessly watch the atrocities being perpetrated on the women they were ‘supposed to protect’ (ibid.). As the men failed to defend the ‘honour’ of the women, they were seen as having failed in their primary duty as men and citizens. Therefore, wartime rape is also viewed as an act of emasculating and humiliating the men of the enemy community/nation (Gottschall 131) – and this is what motivates its public nature, i.e. rape of women in front of their male family and community members.

In addition to weaponising nationalist tropes of women as embodiments of a nation’s boundaries, wartime rape also instrumentalises traditional patriarchal tropes of ‘female purity’ and ‘masculine protection’. As the woman has now had sexual relations with the enemy, she is shunned by society, and as the man has failed to protect the woman, he is seen to have failed in his primary duty towards his family and his nation. This destroys the family unit and leads to the breakdown of an entire community (Takai 400, Peltola 25). Therefore, the notion that the rape of individual women can be used to defile a whole nation severely increases women’s vulnerability to sexual violence during ethno-nationalist wars.

Forced Impregnation

An important consequence of wartime rape is forced impregnation. Usually viewed as incidental to wartime rape, I argue that, like wartime rape, forced impregnation is a decisive strategy in ethno-nationalist wars, and the motivation behind its perpetration lies in the imagination of women as biological reproducers of a nation. Closely tied to the dominant position of women as nationalist mothers in discourses of nationalism is the expectation of engaging in sexual relations within the national community and reproducing nationalist sons. However, in most patrilineal societies, the child inherits membership to any group — nation, ethnicity, religion — from the father rather than the mother. This allows for a man to violate not just the bodily autonomy of individual women but also the bloodline of the group as a whole.

Forced impregnation threatens the reproductive autonomy of a community in three ways. First, women’s bodies become sites of “forcibly transferring children of one group to another”, and their sexual violation is motivated to threaten the ethnic and genetic composition, i.e. the bloodline of the warring nation (Takai 400, Fisher 93). Second, victims of forced impregnation may be psychologically traumatised and unable to have other sexual and childbearing experiences with members of their own community (Fischer 93). Third, victims of forced impregnation, especially if they choose to raise the child themselves, may no longer be considered marriageable within society. All three of these factors attack women’s imagined positions as biological reproducers and cultural transmitters of the nation and threaten the survival and further reproduction of ‘ethnically pure’ community members. Due to its severe implications for the psychological, religious and ethnic identity of the group, authors such as Hyun-Kyung and MacKinnon argue rape with the motivation of impregnating the victims is genocidal in nature (Gotschall 132).

The Bangladesh War reflects the employment of such a strategy of forced impregnation. Press reports estimate that 200,000-400,000 women were raped during the war, resulting in 195,000 cases of forced impregnations (Mookherjee, “The Spectral Wound”, 143). The fact that these rapes and resulting impregnations were not incidental to the war but a strategy of it is reflected not just in the scale of violence but also in the discourse employed by its perpetrators. Nayanika Mookherjee notes that while speaking of sexual violence perpetrated during the war, her interviewees would recall the Pakistan Army men saying that even though Bangladesh might be able to secede from Pakistan, “we [they] would leave behind a Pakistani in the womb of every Bengali woman” (ibid. 180). She further states that during the war, Bengali men were seen as being “Indianised/Hinduised” and, therefore, as only being “nominally muslim” by the Pakistani state, and rape was seen as a way to “improve the genes of Bengali muslims”, populate the newly independent nation of Bangladesh with “a breed of pure muslims — Pakistanis” (Mookherjee, “Gendered Embodiments”, 39). Tautologically, its own continued existence is of primary significance to any community. As a result, little is more valuable to a collective than its reproductive ability and autonomy. The nationalist notions of women as biological reproducers of the collective, coupled with the patriarchal assertion that a child inherits their ethnicity from their father, creates a reality where forced impregnation of a woman is seen as threatening the nation’s continued existence. Therefore, forced impregnation is employed as a deliberate war strategy as it is seen to constitute one of the gravest threats an army can pose to its enemy community.

Hence, we observe that rape and forced impregnations are war strategies motivated by manipulating image of women as ‘biological reproducers’ and ‘cultural transmitters’ of a nation.

Aftermath of War

Having analysed how women’s imagined position in nationalist discourses shapes the violence against them during ethno-nationalist wars, I now turn towards exploring this relationship in the aftermath of war. The largescale perpetration of wartime rape had two implications: first, it victimised a significant proportion of the newly independent nation’s female population, and second, it bred the state’s anxiety towards the unborn war babies. As a result, the Bangladeshi state needed to reconcile the identity of women as rape victims and those carrying the enemy’s child with one compatible with its nationalist project. I argue that in order to achieve this reconciliation, the state recast them into the same role of nationalist mothers through a combination of discourse and policy, and in doing so, subjected them to diverse forms of violence. I will focus on epistemic violence in particular, which includes “persistent epistemic exclusion that hinders one’s contribution to knowledge production” (Dotson 1).

Nature, Nation, Mother

Throughout the Liberation War, the nation and nature were both feminised and represented through the figures of “respectable, self-sacrificing mothers” in songs, poems and plays (Mookherjee, “Gendered Embodiments” 45). Such an imagination of nature and nation as ‘motherland’, symbolised through women’s bodies, created a strong link between nature, nation and the symbolic depiction of women as mothers. This collective imagination and equation of nation-nature-mother made it possible for the wartime rape of women to be equated to the ravages of nature and the nation of Bangladesh, by the Pakistani Army, during the war. In the equation, the violence perpetrated on women to that performed on the nation’s land (imagined as a mother) by the same enemy alleviated the position of the raped woman to that of an aggrieved mother.

The gendered atrocities perpetrated during the war were re-narrativised through songs, poems and plays. In all sources studied by Mookherjee, wartime rapes depicted were those of cases of “hit-and-run rapes”, i.e. the rape of a woman in front of her male relatives, and they were symbolised through the ravaging of nature by the Pakistani Army (Mookherjee, “The Spectral Wound” 181). As men were forced to silently witness this atrocity perpetrated on their mothers/sisters/daughters, the re-tellings of war show them to be similarly mute spectators to the ravaging of nature and the nation. As a result, in both cases, they are shown to have failed in their ‘duties’ ‘as men’. This creates an image of relative trauma — the trauma of those being violated (women/nature) is depicted relationally to the ‘trauma’ faced by male witnesses of this violation. The dominant imagery was one of the mother (raped woman and mother nature) being wronged, in pain and calling for her (male) children to protect and avenge her (Mookherjee, “Gendered Embodiments”  42, 44). The focus is moved away from the victim towards the men, and it calls upon the men to avenge their mothers and motherland by participating in the war (while it continued) and then in the nation-building processes of the new Bangladesh. Therefore, by collapsing the image of rape of a woman to the ravaging of feminised nature and nation-aestheticised rape in the public imagination. This reconciled the pictures of the raped woman with a mother — an aggrieved mother calling upon her sons to avenge her, in this case — and she could, once again, be effectively employed as a national symbol encouraging the men to participate in the nationalist project.

This reconciliation and instrumentalisation of women’s experiences for the nationalist project was built on silencing individual women’s experiences. In interviews conducted by Mookherjee and Saikia, several women identified their perpetrators as family members, neighbours, and local and national leaders (Saikia 68, Mookherjee, “Remembering to Forget” 443). However, the instrumentalisation of women’s experience to encourage men to be a part of the nationalist project (by avenging the rapes of their mothers by inflicting harm on the Pakistanis) would not have been possible if the perpetrator had been identified as a local. Hence, the Bangladeshi government strategically claimed that all rapes were perpetrated by the ‘Pakistani enemy’ without providing space for survivors to voice their own experiences. In doing so, it transformed the victims of rape into an abstract number of bodies. Experiences identifying the perpetrator as a ‘local’ were systematically erased and forgotten to maintain a farce of ‘national unity’ and fuel sentiments against the ‘Pakistani enemy’. I discuss the different ways in which women’s individual experiences were silenced towards the end of this section.

Illegitimate and Legitimate Motherhoods

As observed in the earlier section, women forcibly impregnated during the war were seen as carrying the ‘enemy’s child’ and reproducing the enemy population in their home country. This posed a threat to the nationalist state, which cast this form of motherhood as “illegitimate” (Mookherjee, “Available Motherhood”, 350). The unborn war baby became a source of anxiety for the state, which sought to eliminate it by establishing control over women’s bodies and sexuality. This was done by setting up rehabilitation centres for victims of wartime rape. The centres facilitated four roles: abortion and international adoption of ‘war babies’ and marriage and financial sustenance of birangonas (Mookherjee, “Available Motherhood” 342, Saikia 67). Hastily, laws legalising abortion and international adoption were passed in 1971 and repealed as soon as the process was completed (ibid. 347, 349).

The state mandated an abortion programme through the rehabilitation centres, and women were compelled to accept the state’s intervention if they wanted to be included within the new Bangladesh and avail of the centre’s services (ibid.). Women too far into their pregnancy terms were mandated to give away their children for international adoption (Mookherjee,  “Available Motherhood”  342). Abortion and international adoption were seen as methods of not only getting rid of the “Pakistani children” from Bangladesh but also of  “cleansing” the women’s bodies by making them “unavailable” to the emotions of motherhood for an “illegitimate” child (ibid. 339, 348). Both Saikia and Mookherjee note several cases of forced abortions and adoptions — constituting yet another form of violence against women in the aftermath of ethno-nationalist wars. Once they were physically and physiologically expunged of the ‘war-babies’, the centres facilitated their reintegration into society and, specifically, their marriages to Bangladeshi men (ibid. 249). This ensured that the women were instituted within heterosexual marital alliances with men from the same community and could reproduce Bangladeshi children again. As a result, the birangonas were, once again, made available for a “legitimate” form of motherhood and could now occupy the position of nationalist mothers in people’s collective imagination.

All records of abortions and international adoptions, including details about the women on whom these procedures were performed/gave away their children for adoption, were burnt by centre workers to facilitate their “smooth assimilation” into society (Mookherjee, “The Spectral Wound” 151). As a result, there is no real-time documentation about the nature of these processes and women’s own consent (or lack thereof) to being a part of them. While on the one hand, the birangonas were once again cast in the roles of nationalist mothers in the public sphere, on the other hand, the experiences of individual women were systematically erased and appropriated (as being voluntary choices) by the state. Therefore, we observe that the state’s construction of an ideal of a birangonas as “cleansed, nationalist mothers” was built on and sustained by the systemic silencing of individual women’s experiences.

Forced Silences

Once “reintegrated into the society”, mostly through marriage alliances, women were also systematically dissuaded from sharing their war or rehabilitation centres experiences. This silencing happened by subjecting those who sought to accept the title of birangona to khota — khota is a Bengali word that refers to scorn that was directed at such women through everyday normative discourses in Bangladesh (Mookherjee, “Remembering to Forget” 434, 435, 438). It did not take long for the term birangona to be twisted into the slur barangona meaning “penetrated”, which is used to denote prostitutes (Saikia 66). Women received compensation when they shared their experiences with news agencies, academics or lawyers (Mookherjee, “Remembering to Forget”, 438). In the state’s rehabilitation programme, women who claimed the status of birangona, either received money and land to sustain themselves or were married off to a Bangladeshi man who was “rewarded” with money for their willingness to “accept and transform” the birangona (Saika 67). As the monetary exchange was involved in all these cases, women who claimed the status of birangona were labelled as barangonas in everyday discourses and were again shunned through the violence of khota. Furthermore, a “true” survivor was constructed to be one who would attempt to conceal their experience of rape, be ashamed of it and refuse to acknowledge or speak about it publicly (Mookherjee, “Remembering to Forget”, 440). Therefore, women who claimed the status of birangona were disbelieved by the locals and seen as opportunistic (ibid.). This meant that in addition to the realm of material evidence, individual women’s experiences were also systematically erased from the realm of discourse.

Through this section, I have shown that in order to recast women into the imagination of nationalist mothers, and symbols of nationalist mobilisation and continuation, the state strips women of their agency and systemically silences and erases their individual experiences. This deliberate strategy to silence the women in order to fit their experiences into a nationally acceptable mould shapes a distinct form of epistemic violence against them in the aftermath of war — one that appropriates and misrepresents women’s experiences and in doing so, denies them the epistemic space for their experience to be acknowledged as history and be a part of the “knowledge” about the war.

Conclusion

Through this paper, I have analysed the relationship between forms of violence perpetrated against women during and in the aftermath of ethno-nationalist wars and their position in nationalist discourses. I have argued that women’s imagined position as reproducers of a nation and markers of its cultural boundaries leads to the violation of their bodily autonomy being interpreted as a transgression of the collective’s boundaries, and in doing so, forms an essential motivation behind the wide-scale perpetration of sexual violence during ethno-nationalist wars. I have then proceeded to analyse this relationship in the aftermath of war and argued that the state subjects women to a distinct form of epistemic violence in efforts to recast them in positions of nationalist mothers. Therefore, throughout the paper, we have observed how the imagination of women in nationalist discourses constitutes them as political signs, as symbols of national honour and boundaries, which shapes the violence against them both during and in the aftermath of war. In doing so, it creates a reality wherein women’s bodies become sites on which wars are waged, and power gets inscribed.

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