I do not claim that the cases covered in this book are perfectly representative of all instances of wartime sexual violence against men. Rather, my purpose is to use them to initiate a reflection on what triggers that type of violence, on what its effects on survivors are, on how to support them and on why such violence has so far remained largely neglected in both international discourses and policies. Overall, and though all interviews are quoted in this book, my data on conflict-related sexual violence against men includes more than eighty in-depth, semi-structured as well as life-history interviews with mostly male, but also a few female combatants (former and still active) in Northern Ireland, Burundi and the DRC, with refugees (both male and female) in Burundi and the DRC, and around thirty semi-structured interviews with various local NGO leaders, doctors, surgeons and psychiatrists in the Great Lakes region of Africa as well as in Europe. Some representatives of international organizations have also been interviewed.[4] In addition, this book builds on existing data available on a series of cases of conflict where NGOs and academics have documented episodes of sexual violence against men, such as Sri Lanka, Bosnia-Herzegovina, Croatia, Uganda and El Salvador, as well as some others on which evidence exists but is more scattered, like Afghanistan, Syria and Sudan.
Collecting empirical data on the topic of wartime sexual violence is far from easy. Survivors will rather talk about suffering inflicted upon others than upon themselves, and of course it is paramount to avoid re-traumatizing them (Ford et al. 2009, 5). Similarly, perpetrators seldom acknowledge their direct participation and responsibility in these acts. Both perpetrators and survivors frequently use metaphors to speak about sexual violence, which is a good indication of the weight of the stigma surrounding these acts, but which also represents an obvious challenge when analysing interviews. Considering these obstacles, I decided against the idea of conducting interviews that would primarily focus on sexual violence and opted instead for in-depth interviews on the issue of everyday violence faced, perpetrated or witnessed by my research participants. I assumed that the topic of sexual violence would probably often come up even if I did not mention it myself—which almost always proved true. The interviews thus often took the form of open conversations about experiences of conflict and of violence, rather than of well-structured interactions. I took care during each interview to explain and discuss with my research participants the general purposes of my research project, as well as the potential risks that they ran by participating, such as the risk of being identified with one conflict party or the other.[5] I also informed the people I spoke with about the fact that their anonymity would be preserved and about the notes I intended to take during the process, and I of course underscored the fact that they had the possibility to withdraw at any time if they so wished (Hugman, Pittaway and Bartolomei 2011). I do not claim that my being a white, Western and female researcher puts me in a good position to interpret and understand what I have seen, witnessed and been told. I am well aware of the risk of misunderstanding and misinterpretation carried by conducting research on a phenomenon taking place in a frame of reference that I cannot fully comprehend, despite being reasonably familiar with both the Great Lakes region of Africa and Northern Ireland, where I have been conducting fieldwork for many years. I am also aware that by choosing to adopt a “narrative ethnographic” approach (Björkdahl and Mannergren Selimovic 2018, 43), I will “inevitably take part in breaking as well as making and maintaining silences and voids” (ibid., 46). By multiplying the sources of information, and by conducting my research over a rather long period of time, I hope to have limited these shortcomings.
I primarily discussed with current and former male combatants, and spoke with them about their experiences of everyday violence in the bush, or in detention. I also collected testimonies of male and female refugees and displaced persons about the reasons that had led them to flee their region of origin, and about the types of violence they had experienced in their region of origin, during their flight and in their current place of residence. In many cases, especially during interviews conducted in the Great Lakes region of Africa, the issue of war rapes (against women) came up, and that gave me the opportunity to ask questions about potential male victims, as well as about other potential forms of sexual violence against men. This was a way for me to try to minimize as much as possible the risk of re-traumatizing my research participants by asking questions that might have sounded intrusive or even offensive, especially in a region where speaking about sex is particularly taboo (Hearn, Andersson and Cowburn 2007). A few of the people I spoke with mentioned episodes of wartime male sexual victimization they had witnessed, took part in or been victims of. Many did not, and in that case I did not push the matter. It is thus very difficult for me to have a precise idea of the proportion of my initial “sample” who has indeed been victim—or perpetrator—of such a type of violence; however, I do not consider this a problem, since my research belongs unambiguously to the qualitative realm, and its objective is to unveil and explain processes and patterns rather than to come up with figures, which a few others have begun to gather (see in particular Johnson et al. 2010).
In the Great Lakes region, the interviews were conducted in French or in English, as well as in local languages as determined by the participants’ requests, with the assistance of a Burundian or a Congolese interpreter.[6] While the presence of an interpreter might have, at times, disrupted the interview process, I also believe that it has facilitated exchanges, especially when discussing local usages or contexts. In Northern Ireland and in the rest of Europe, the interviews were conducted in English. The interviews were always held in places chosen by my research participants, and where they felt comfortable to speak. Quite obviously, I have anonymized my data, and some dates/places mentioned in this book have been changed in order to protect the people I spoke to. At my research participants’ request, I have almost never recorded the interviews, and instead used a notebook.
Much could be said about my position as a white, Western and female researcher gathering data on such an issue in one of the most unstable regions of Africa. Some local researchers have already told me that, because I am a M’zungu (a Swahili word meaning “someone with white skin”), local people were a lot more likely to speak to me, in the hope either of getting some money in return, or of having their situation somehow improved as a consequence of my research. Other Western researchers working in Africa have made similar observations, and this seems particularly true of male survivors (IRIN 2011). While I made sure to explain to the people I spoke to that my research was unlikely to have an immediate impact on their lives, and though I did not offer them any financial compensation, this might partly explain why some male survivors, and a few perpetrators too, were willing to talk to me. It was never an easy and swift process though, since most survivors of (wartime) sexual violence, male and female, experience difficulties with talking about what happened to them, and since perpetrators are usually more than reluctant to acknowledge their own responsibility in these acts. It is not uncommon for such stories to emerge years or sometimes decades after the event took place. My local anchorage in the region, as a co-director since 2009 of a Master Program in Gender Studies at the Université Lumière of Bujumbura in Burundi, undoubtedly played a role too, since it helped me to get to meet the relevant local, national and regional actors, and to gain their trust. I am, however, well aware of the very real possibility that some of my research participants were too traumatized, too intimidated, too mistrustful or too scared, to disclose their stories, and that those who did, did it perhaps partially, and chose not to reveal some important factors or details.
4
These figures only include interviews during which the topic of wartime sexual violence against men came up and was discussed.
5
Worth mentioning also is the fact that the consent process was oral rather than written, mostly because a significant portion of my informants in Africa were not literate.
6
I have been assisted by local male and female interpreters. It is difficult for me to assess the impact of the interpreter’s gender on the interviewing process, considering the sensitive nature of the information that was discussed. My feeling is that there is no “better” gender for interviewing male survivors or perpetrators of sexual violence, as some interviewees seemed at times to feel more relaxed with male interpreters, while some others were apparently more comfortable around women.