Sexual violence seems to be even more difficult to accept and speak about when it is perpetrated by women. According to the previously quoted report on sexual violence compiled by Médecins Sans Frontières, which covers several African cases, including Burundi and Eastern DRC, such occurrences are not exceptionaclass="underline"
While men can be victims of sexual violence, women can also be perpetrators. Male rape survivors attending MSF clinics in Ituri reported being forced to have intercourse with female fighters or guards while in detention. Most of these assaults were committed publicly, to cause humiliation. Even if not involved directly in forced sex, women may play a role as accomplices, facilitating repeated aggression or preventing the violation from being reported. (Médecins Sans Frontières 2009, 11)
Among the survivors I have met, and who had been abused while in detention, none reported clear cases of forced intercourse with female fighters, but several mentioned the fact that other abducted women were present when they had been “humiliated”, and that some female combatants had “participated in their torture” (Félicien 2010, interview).
Whether such episodes of sexual violence happen under the eyes of external witnesses or not is also obviously important for understanding the survivors’ reaction—many “public” male victims of rape I know or have heard of have fled their regions of origin or committed suicide. Facing public shame, disapproval, ostracism, not to mention accusations of homosexuality or of weakness, in addition to the suffering they already have to handle often proves impossible. The fact that they were abused publicly prevents them from being in control of their own narrative, and of their own victimization. In addition to attacking (symbolically but also sometimes physically) their masculinity and their pride, the public perpetration of sexual violence ensures that survivors are also deprived of control over their own story.
But what also often prevents male survivors from sharing their stories publicly, even years after the end of the conflict, is that they think that what happened to them was so unusual, so exceptional, that nobody will believe them. Because public discourses on sexual violence focus on women as victims, many male survivors have the impression of having had to suffer an aberration. That is especially true of those who suffered episodes of sexual violence outside of detention settings, and who are not in contact with other survivors:
I don’t know of anyone else here who has suffered what I have suffered. I don’t think there are many others like me. It might happen once in a while, but not often, no. Who could believe that it can happen? (Didace 2014, interview)
Thinking that they are exceptional cases, that they do not legitimately belong to any category of conflict victims, prevents them from feeling included in post-war narratives. And when they cannot find a rational explanation for what befell them, for instance, connected to conflict issues and divisions, they conclude that they must somehow be responsible for what happened, and that they had better stay silent:
It is better for me not to tell anyone about what happened. If that has happened, then it must be because God wanted to punish me for things I have done in the past. So it is better for me to accept it, to beg forgiveness and not speak about what happened. (Vincent 2014, interview)
For the very few local organizations that try to help both male and female survivors of sexual violence, men’s reluctance to speak, not just to support staff but also to their own relatives, can be a major obstacle to recovery. In the capital city of Burundi, for instance, organizations like SERUKA say that only 5% of the victims they receive are men and boys, and that there is evidence of low reporting rates for male victims (SERUKA 2012, interview). But even those who make the decision to seek help find it almost impossible to talk about it to their relatives, especially to their wives: “Comment puis-je dire à ma femme qu’on a fait de moi une femme?”.[3] The fact that most international programs dealing with sexual violence during conflicts focus on women—and indeed tend to imply that only women can be victims—also leads to devastating consequences for male victims: since they think that these programs are “made for women”, they do not dare come forward, and feel as if their own suffering was totally ignored, silenced, too outrageous to even be spoken about. And the equation that is made between women and victims further alienates them, because it indeed confirms what many of them are already feeling anyway: that having been raped or mutilated has “turned them into women”, into “lesser men” (Jacques 2013, interview). These programs build a narrative in which men, if not perpetrators, should be protecting the victims, that is, the women. There is no room for considering the suffering of men. And if they still wish to be recognized as victims, then they will have to accept to go to facilities dedicated in priority to women, to face the added shame of being seen there,[4] and they will thus be further symbolically feminized. In other words, the focus put on female victims of sexual violence furthers the suffering of male victims, by reinforcing the “de-masculinization” and “feminization” induced by what they went through.
As many scholars have already observed, in international narratives about gender and conflicts, or about conflict-related sexual and gender-based violence, and especially in UNSC Resolutions dealing with women and conflicts, women are often depicted as “wars’ ‘others’, peaceful themselves and often objecting to the war or conflict” (Sjoberg 2013, 61). They are described as forcefully displaced, pushed into prostitution or trafficking, forcefully enrolled in armed groups, etc. In short, women’s actions and deeds are generally depicted as if they were outside of the conflict action and realm, or only happened to be there by accident. They are also assumed to be naturally more peaceful and less radical, and the “women and peace hypothesis”[5] is still quite popular in international arenas. UNSC Resolution 1325 (2000) underscores, for instance, “the important role of women in the prevention and resolution of conflicts and in peace-building”. Women are said to be more inclined than men to think for the common good, to defend universal and humanitarian values, while men are seen as unable to move across ethnic, linguistic or religious divisions. In that perspective, women are the perfect subjects of a peaceful and reconciled world, while men embody war and politics.
In many ways, the language used in UNSC Resolutions about gender and conflicts is essentialist, as it rarely questions the categories “women” and “men”, as if all women were facing the same plight, and as if all men had the same (violent) role. Femininities and masculinities are seen as unproblematic and unchangeable, and the intersectionality factor is overlooked: “women” and “men” are both assumed to be unified and homogeneous groups, in spite of the fact that conflict studies have, for instance, long shown that violence does not affect the wealthy and the poor in similar ways. Women are always associated with apolitical values, whereas men embody politics and ideology; women are assumed to be civilians, mothers, and it is their primary function as caretakers and caregivers that is underscored; a parallel hidden assumption is that men in conflict areas are either part of the military, or of armed groups. Needless to say, this representation excludes many women taking part in conflict, such as female combatants, who represent between 10% and 40% of combatants depending on the conflict zone, and it of course also overlooks the numerous men who are “just” civilians, as well as those who are victims of the conflict, like male survivors of sexual violence. In many ways these discourses ensure the reproduction of highly patriarchal values and worldviews, whereby women are seen as weaker and have to be protected in order to be able to fulfill their traditional functions, as underscored by Detraz: “A project that unquestioningly asserts an association between women and peace may actually serve to disempower women by defining them in opposition to the ideas security studies considers most crucial, specifically strategizing for and fighting in wars” (2012, 12). These discourses obviously also reinforce the association that is usually made between men and power, or men and violence.
3
Which can be translated as: “How can I say to my wife that they have turned me into a woman?” I have left the quote in French, as “femme” means both “wife” and “woman” in French, which makes this statement even more striking. Male survivor quoted by SERUKA’s director, Bujumbura, Burundi, 25 April 2012.
4
During my visits in facilities of support organizations for victims of sexual violence, or hospital services dedicated to gynecology and sexual violence-related surgery, I have been struck by the absence of men. The only visible ones were either doctors and surgeons, or cleaning and maintenance staff.
5
Which could be read as follows: “the