Broadening the scope but reasserting male privilege? Potential patriarchal pitfalls of inclusive approaches to gender-based violence

ABSTRACT

Sexual violence against men and boys (SVAMB) in conflict has in recent years become a prominent topic in research and on the international policy stage. Simultaneously, there has been a slow but steady increase of attention to gendered harms against persons of diverse sexual orientations, gender identities and expressions, and sex characteristics (SOGIESC). These shifts, albeit slow and belated, are in many ways welcome and overdue. However, while broadening the scope of addressing the needs of gender-based violence survivors and acknowledging their victimhood is essential, there are several risks involved, in particular in terms of reasserting the centrality of male privilege. One risk is that work on SVAMB intentionally or unintentionally obscures the needs of women, girls, and persons of other gender identities. The second is an emerging trend of homogenizing diverse SOGIESC experiences, conflating these with SVAMB and invisibilizing women of diverse SOGIESC. Third, we argue, some of the work with male survivors carries a “re-masculinizing” message that often chimes with survivors’ wishes, but risks re-establishing heteronormative and latently misogynist and homophobic norms. We explore the salience of this wish for “re-masculinization” but also possible alternative approaches that address men’s legitimate concerns without reinforcing misogyny and homophobia.

KEYWORDS:

• Sexual violence
• SOGIESC
• masculinity
• male survivors
• gender-based violence

Introduction

For good and obvious reasons, most of the scholarly literature, activism, policy responses, and programming on conflict-related sexual violence (CRSV) have been focused primarily on the experiences, vulnerabilities, needs, and rights of women and girls. Given the pervasive discrimination and marginalization of women and their experiences, both during conflict and beyond, such a focus is urgently needed and warranted. Violence against women and girls (VAWG) has been recognized in the international policy arena as an issue requiring policies and interventions since at least the 1970s, owing to extensive feminist organizing, advocacy, and theorizing – and women’s rights groups have been sounding the alarm bells for much longer (Kelly 1988; Kreft 2020). VAWG specifically in conflict-affected settings became widely recognized as an issue worthy of international attention only later, following mass rapes of women and girls in the Yugoslav Wars, the civil wars in Sierra Leone and Liberia, the Rwandan genocide, and especially the conflict in the eastern Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) (Cohen 2016). Yet, this focus on CRSV quickly became a dominant theme in policy and academic discourse on Women, Peace and Security (WPS), especially as far as the specific use of “rape as a weapon of war” is concerned (for a critical discussion, see Eriksson Baaz and Stern 2013; Kirby 2013; Meger 2016; Swaine 2018). However, in spite of public statements, policy frameworks, and media hype, the needs of gender-based violence (GBV) survivors, regardless of their gender, continue to go unmet in both conflict- and non-conflict-affected settings (Kreft 2020; Skjelsbaek 2001).¹

Meanwhile, sexual violence against men and boys (SVAMB) remained for years on the margins of these debates (see Carpenter 2006; Grey and Shepherd 2013; Lewis 2014; Touquet and Gorris 2016). This has been slowly changing, however, and in recent years, a growing body of scholarship on SVAMB has begun to emerge (Dolan 2014; Féron 2018; Schulz 2018b; Touquet and Schulz 2021; Zalewski et al. 2018). At the same time, numerous non-governmental organizations (NGOs) have been documenting cases of SVAMB in situations of conflict and displacement, such as in the Great Lakes region, Syria, Libya, and Myanmar (Chynoweth 2019a; HRW 2020; UNHCR 2018; WRC 2018). The issue has also gained traction among policymakers and humanitarian responders, in part due to the active lobbying by civil society activists and academics, culminating in the integration of language on SVAMB in the WPS agenda’s United Nations Security Council Resolution (UNSCR) 2106 in 2013, and then more extensively in UNSCR 2467 in 2019. Consequentially, the previously upheld notion that crimes of SVAMB remain silenced and that little to no knowledge exists on this topic is no longer valid (Touquet et al. 2020).

The increased interest in SVAMB among some academic and policy actors as well as service providers has emerged in parallel to a broadening of approaches to gender. These broader approaches also examine the experiences and vulnerabilities of persons of diverse sexual orientations, gender identities and expressions, and sex characteristics (SOGIESC)² in conflict-affected situations and displacement (Chynoweth 2019b; Daigle and Myrttinen 2018; HRW 2020; Serrano-Amaya 2018). However, broader discussions of this at the international level, such as at the United Nations (UN) Security Council, have been stymied by the pushback of countries such as the Holy See, Russia, Iran, and the United States on the issue (Niżnik 2020). Indeed, while UNSCR 2467 repeatedly recognizes SVAMB, any mention of diverse SOGIESC, or reproductive health and rights for that matter, was blocked by these countries (Niżnik 2020). SOGIESC diversity issues have, however, started slowly emerging in other WPS instruments, such as National Action Plans on its implementation.

Reflecting on our experiences of engaging with, and indeed promoting, these issues through our work, we seek to explore here how the tensions between SVAMB and VAWG, the tendency for SVAMB discourses to focus on “re-masculinization,” and the challenges involved with merely “adding LGBTIQ+” risk recentering men and male agency. By “re-masculinization,” we refer to explicit and implicit attempts to “shore up” or re-establish the (heterosexual) masculine sense of self of men who, due to the impacts of conflict, displacement, or violence done unto them, feel “emasculated,” “feminized,” or “homosexualized.” We return to these concepts later.

Neither of us authors have been neutral observers of these processes. In different capacities, we have been arguing in the academic arena and in policy circles for the need for more comprehensive, inclusive, and intersectional approaches to gender and GBV in (post-)conflict and emergency settings that take SVAMB and persons of diverse SOGIESC into account. Importantly, we highlight here that this recognition must take place without losing sight of VAWG and the needs of women and girls more broadly, including women of diverse SOGIESC. In existing scholarship and advocacy on this issue, debates have ensued about whether this newly gained recognition of SVAMB in particular comes to the detriment of attention being paid to VAWG (see below; Dolan 2015; Ward 2016). To address this risk, and to ensure a more comprehensive recognition of gendered experiences and vulnerabilities without overlooking gender inequalities, we argue that an inclusive and relational understanding of gender in work around conflict and security is needed. Yet, at the same time, we also recognize that there are tensions and hierarchies of violations and suffering at the heart of these debates. Having previously advocated strongly in favor of the recognition of SVAMB, as well as sexual violence against persons of diverse SOGIESC, we similarly recognize that we may have inadvertently played a role in exacerbating these tensions.

There is at least one key weakness in our article that we want to highlight before proceeding. As in much of the policy debate, our professional focus has been, and continues here to be, on conflict-related and wartime sexual violence. Problematically, sexual violence against persons of any gender identity specifically in conflict settings and by armed actors continues to be seen as more important than the more widespread issue of various other forms of gender-based violence perpetrated by armed actors or by civilians – often family members or acquaintances – in conflict- and non-conflict-affected situations alike (Meger 2016). Consequently, more research is needed to explore the continuities of these forms of violence across time and space (Swaine 2018), and along the continuum between what is often falsely framed as two distinct categories of “war” and “peace.”

In this article, we begin by reflecting on developments in the most recent debates on SVAMB in the international arena, including some inherent tensions between this and focusing on VAWG. Building on this overview, we then reflect on how the terms “emasculation,” “feminization,” “homosexualization,” and “re-masculinization,” so often used in the context of SVAMB, are inherently misogynist, homophobic, and heteronormative. Further building on this, and drawing on reflections on research in northern Uganda, we then show how much programming on SVAMB, however scarce and limited, can implicitly and inadvertently feed off and into male survivors’ longing to return to an idealized, romanticized, and inherently heteropatriarchal status quo. We close this investigation by reviewing recent advances on diverse SOGIESC in peace and security research and policymaking, emphasizing the need to move beyond merely rhetorically “adding LGBTQI+” and avoid the invisibilization of women of diverse SOGIESC.

SVAMB in the international arena

Academic and policy interest in CRSV has increased significantly over the past two decades. Following the evolving recognition of the prevalence of and variations in GBV, both in times of war and beyond (Cohen 2016; Eriksson Baaz and Stern 2013; Kirby 2013), as reflected upon in the introduction, the body of scholarship on this topic has grown exponentially (Boesten 2018). These developments in the literature have been accompanied, and mirrored, by the WPS agenda. As a UN framework, WPS pays particular attention to CRSV (Aroussi 2011) but has also been critiqued for over-emphasizing, if not even fetishizing, “rape as a weapon of war” (Meger 2016) over other forms of gender violence and other components of the agenda (Pratt and Richter-Devroe 2011). This growing international attention given to CRSV, in scholarship and policymaking, in many ways culminated in “[t]he award of the 2018 Nobel Peace Prize to Dr. Denis Mukwege and Nadia Murad ‘for their efforts to end the use of sexual violence as a weapon of war and armed conflict’” (Kreft 2020, 457).

However, for a long time, the topic of SVAMB was mostly absent within these debates, or only present at the very margins (Dolan 2017; Touquet and Gorris 2016). This started to change slowly in the early and mid-2010s, in part due to critical academic debates and grounded research, as well as programming and vigorous activism. Key moments marking the shift included the slightly veiled mention of SVAMB in UNSCR 2106 in 2013,³ and a UN workshop on Sexual Violence against Men and Boys in Conflict Situations in the same year. Since then, the issue has gained momentum in the academic sphere, in NGO research and advocacy, and in international policy circles. There is, indeed, a growing body of scholarship on this topic, composed of numerous articles (see for example Auchter 2017; Drumond 2019; Eichert 2019; Sivakumaran 2007; Touquet et al. 2020), a few books (Féron 2018; Schulz 2020), and an edited volume on SVAMB in global politics (Zalewski et al. 2018). While most of the earlier scholarship on this topic was largely conceptual, characterized by a dearth of empirical data and in particular survivors’ perspectives, this too has slowly begun to change in recent years (see Schulz 2020; Touquet et al. 2020).

At the same time, within policy spheres, several donor countries have actively taken up the issue of SVAMB, including notably Germany in the run-up to the passing of the most recent UNSCR 2467 in 2019 (Niżnik 2020). This specific resolution not only promotes the adoption of a survivor-centric approach for responding to CRSV, but also repeatedly emphasizes that men and boys are frequently affected by sexual violence in conflict settings. The number of international policy events examining SVAMB has also steadily grown at the same time, including the bi-annual South–South Institute on Sexual Violence against Men and Boys as well as workshops organized by the UN (2013, 2018) and the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) (2019) – many of which we as authors have participated in.

SVAMB versus VAWG?

This rapid increase in international interest in SVAMB has not been uncontroversial, as, for example, the significant and steady pushback from within gender-based violence networks indicates. As noted by du Toit and le Roux (2021, 115), there is “a pervasive tendency, especially in the world of development and humanitarian response, to hierarchize or prioritize certain types of victims of sexual violence in armed conflict over others.” These tensions and frictions arise due to fears of competition over scarce resources and attention, but also evolve around the scope, causes, and origins of GBV patterns. Whereas feminist scholars focusing on GBV rightly maintain that sexual violence is committed disproportionately against women and girls (Crawford 2017; Kreft 2020), those working on SVAMB frequently emphasize that this type of violence “occurs more frequently than is commonly assumed” (Schulz 2020, 3). While these two positions are not in any way mutually exclusive, they can (and often do) lead to debates about which type of violence to prioritize in terms of attention, intervention, and service provision (see Dolan 2015), whereby “women and men as victims are pitted against each other” (du Toit and le Roux 2021, 116).

In the literature, a debate between Dolan (2015, 2016) and Ward (2016) in the International Review of the Red Cross is perhaps particularly illustrative of some of these controversies. In brief, Dolan (2015, 486) argues for a reconceptualization of GBV in humanitarian settings from an emphasis on gender equality to an ethos of gender inclusivity, emphasizing that “the range of victims and survivors … needs to be more inclusive – most urgently male and lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and intersex (LGBTI) victims and survivors.” In response, Ward (2016, 276, 291, 297) recommends “retaining a focus on women and girls in GBV work,” emphasizing that this violence is structurally rooted in patriarchal gender inequalities, hierarchies, and discrimination with different manifestations and implications for women and girls. With reference to the Inter-Agency Standing Committee (IASC) GBV Guidelines (2015), Ward (2016, 282) argues that “it is both the nature and scope of their gender-based disadvantage – still evident in every society in the world – that warrants specialized guidance and programming for women and girls.”⁴ In response, Dolan (2016, 627) again emphasizes the importance of an inclusive approach to gender and maintains that focusing on VAWG cannot be at the expense of other forms of GBV, including against men and boys and survivors of diverse SOGIESC.⁵

This debate encapsulates some of the tensions within the field and points to one of the very real fears among policymakers, activists, and practitioners engaged in VAWG prevention: that any incorporation of SVAMB (and of survivors of diverse SOGIESC) will lead to diminished interest in and resources for the already underfunded work on women’s and girls’ needs (Casey 2015), thus carrying grave practical implications. For example, the Coalition of Feminists for Social Change (COFEM) has raised concerns that

in a rush to engage men and boys in this work [on GBV], some programs have taken attention or funding away from work that is directly responding to the needs and views of women survivors of violence and the importance of centering women and girls in GBV theory and programs. (COFEM 2021, 1)

Indeed, fearing a renewed privileging of male needs and experiences at the expense of women, “many feminists express concern” about growing attention to SVAMB (du Toit and le Roux 2021, 116). Such concerns reflect a significant danger in policy debates, where interest in countering SVAMB has at times been used to sideline discussions about women’s and girls’ experiences of GBV. Indeed, arguments are frequently tabled around “difficult financial choices having to be made,”⁶ rather than around increasing the sums available to attend to the needs of all survivors/victims of GBV.

Those advocating for a stronger focus on SVAMB have also been perceived at times as seeking to shut down broader conversations on GBV and on women’s and girls’ needs (COFEM 2021) with an insistence on a “what about men and boys?” approach (Ward 2016, 278); this approach problematically downplays, or even ignores, broader structural gendered inequalities and vulnerabilities, fueled by patriarchy (Enloe 2017; Ward 2016), that disproportionately affect women and girls. As such, the practical and theoretical implications of these concerns and tensions are that moves toward gender inclusivity “dilute” the messaging on women’s and girls’ needs, risk diverting attention and already scarce resources for work with them, and decouple an engagement with GBV from broader gendered hierarchies and patriarchal structures.

Conceptualizing “emasculation,” “feminization,” “homosexualization,” and “re-masculinization”

Drawing on this overview of recent developments in scholarship and policymaking, we proceed to highlight some of the shortcomings inherent to these debates, focusing here specifically on the misogynist and homophobic undertones of the concepts and terms that are predominantly used in research on SVAMB. The language that is employed to make sense of these crimes often includes such words as “emasculation,” “feminization,” and “homosexualization” (see Sivakumaran 2007). Here we argue that these framings can often carry implicit and sometimes even explicit misogynist, homophobic, and transphobic undertones (see Schulz 2018a).

These notions of “no longer being a man,” of a ruptured sense of gender identity and sexuality, are often central to the ways in which survivors make sense of their experiences. As such, they need to be taken seriously by us as researchers or advocates, even if we consider them problematic. These framings are often reinforced by family and community members, but also intentionally or unintentionally by service providers, policymakers, and academics. They are also part of the rationale that drives SVAMB; it is often, but not always, used by perpetrators knowingly to undermine the targeted men’s sense of a masculine self (Drumond 2019; Myrttinen, Khattab, and Naujoks 2017).

Throughout most of the literature on the topic, it is argued that SVAMB is “emasculating,” “feminizing,” or “homosexualizing.” Auchter (2017, 1340), for instance, argues that “sexual violence against men involves forms of emasculation in which perpetrators seek to feminize their victims by rendering them weak, violated and passive, in contradistinction to stereotypical masculine ideals.” Despite their prevalent utilization, however, existing scholarship has not yet critically engaged with the analytical categories and associated terms, which are characterized by intersecting normative and analytical challenges (Schulz 2018a, 2020).

Throughout the literature on gender in the context of armed conflict, “feminization” is broadly defined as devaluation rooted in patriarchy, thereby illuminating the gendered power inequalities constituted by the asymmetric privileging of masculine over feminine qualities inherent to global gender orders. For Peterson (2010), the ultimate effect of rendering someone (or something) female is a reduction in legitimacy, status, and value, associated with rejection and weakness. In the literature on SVAMB specifically, “feminization” is thus used as a synonym for degradation and humiliation, whereby femininities are seen as undesirable and worthless.

The notion of “homosexualization” – that is, rendering someone (or something) as homosexual – is similarly problematic in that it implicitly assumes that heterosexuality is of greater value than homosexuality, and that all victims of wartime sexual assault are heterosexual, which empirically is not always the case (Serrano-Amaya 2018). Yet, as Eichert (2019, 6) argues, “individuals who are homosexual or who claim some other non-heterosexual sexuality cannot be ‘homosexualized’ by having their social status reduced.”

In essence, therefore, the language and idea of “emasculation” by way of “feminization” and/or “homosexualization” can in many ways be seen as normalizing the underpinning assumption that femininities and homosexualities are inherently undesirable and of lesser value than any manifestation of heterosexual masculinities, as well as that they are automatically associated with vulnerability, victimization, and devaluation. Such dynamics and assumptions partly rely upon (implicit and explicit) misogyny, gender essentialism, and homophobia. In light of this, we remain concerned that employing this language in relation to SVAMB risks “accepting and normalizing these patriarchal and misogynist assumptions” behind unequal gender orders (Schulz 2020, 11), according to which women (and homosexuals) are per definition seen as subordinate to all heterosexual males.

In response to the normative challenges surrounding this language and conceptualization, coupled with additional analytical shortcomings (such as a static and fixed portrayal of the impact of violence on gender), one of us (Schulz 2018a) proposes the alternative framework of “displacement from gendered personhood” to analyze these processes and effects. This, it is argued, can circumvent “the risk of accepting and normalizing these patriarchal assumptions” while also “preventing us from employing terminology that freezes dynamic experiences into time and space” (Schulz 2020, 11). Instead, the openness and potential fluidity of this concept allows us to see how the impact of sexual violence on survivors’ experiences can be potentially temporal and malleable, and how survivors may be able to renegotiate their previously impacted gender identities.

As Schulz (2020, 13) explains, survivors’ displacement from gendered personhood can be the result of different intertwined harms, including “physical, psychological, social and physiological effects that reflect survivors’ long-term lived realities.” This includes the ways in which the acts of penetrative rape subordinate male survivors in a gendered manifestation, but also the numerous ripple effects of these violations, which symbolize survivors’ inability to protect themselves, to provide for their families, and to procreate (Schulz 2020, 97) – thus striking at multiple levels of what it means to be a man (Myrttinen, Khattab, and Naujoks 2017).⁷ At the same time, male survivors may be able to engage with these impacts, which can “change again over time, shaped by different factors, such as membership in survivors’ groups or access to physical rehabilitative support” (Schulz 2020, 12) – as we tease out further below. As such, survivors’ experiences and harms can be potentially malleable through socio-political and economic assistance, and thus defy representations of survivors as indefinitely vulnerable, helpless, and “emasculated” victims (also see Touquet and Schulz 2021).

Continuing with the displacement analogy and language here, one potential step that often follows displacement is that of repatriation. In the next section, we explain how male sexual violence survivors are often longing for a sense of “re-masculinization” in response to their sexual and gendered harms, as well as for the repair of their gender identities and, by extension, of the patriarchal status quo in which they were situated prior to the impact of the sexual violations on their masculine identities. This, then, is a desire for a quite literal re-patri-ation and a return to enjoying the benefits of hegemonic masculinity and patriarchy.

“Re-masculinization” in working with male survivors of GBV

Given the overwhelming framing in policy and scholarly discourses of SVAMB as a loss of (heterosexual) masculine status, much work with survivors also tends to focus on “re-masculinizing” approaches. While these are often well meaning and in line with many survivors’ own priorities, they also risk reinforcing patriarchy and heteronormativity, and can have latent misogynist, homophobic, and transphobic undertones (see also Myrttinen 2019).⁸

“Re-masculinization” and “masculinity nostalgia”

“Re-masculinization” and the longing for the undoing of “emasculation” go hand in hand with efforts to further assert male entitlement in the wake of conflict and occupation. Drawing on empirical research in Israel and Palestine, MacKenzie and Foster (2017, 14) argue that for some men who feel impacted in their masculine identities, “the struggle for peace, security and order can become a struggle to ‘return’ men to a supremacy status in the home and in the nation.”⁹ They theorize these dynamics as “masculinity nostalgia,” “associated with a romanticized ‘return to normal’ that included men as heads of household, economic breadwinners, primary decision-makers and sovereigns of the family” (MacKenzie and Foster 2017, 15). This is similar to the “golden age:ism” identified by El-Bushra, Myrttinen, and Naujoks (2014) in Uganda and elsewhere, which is also marked by the wish to “return” to an idealized and inherently patriarchal and heteronormative status quo before the conflict. We argue that similar dynamics are at play in some approaches to working with men and boys in conflict-affected societies to reduce their perpetration of GBV (Jewkes, Flood, and Lang 2015), which focus on male agency and risk reinforcing inherently heteronormative ideas of masculinity, wittingly or unwittingly conjuring up a “kinder, gentler” patriarchy rather than transforming gendered power dynamics (Duriesmith 2019; Gibbs et al. 2020; Myrttinen 2019).

Even though most advocacy and programming on this topic does not explicitly seek to reinforce men’s adherence to heteropatriarchal norms that denigrate women and homosexual men, much of this work may nevertheless implicitly do so, at times eerily echoing colonial projects of “betterment” (Mertens and Myrttinen 2019). This explicit or implicit reassertion of heterosexual male agency and centering and celebration of (sometimes reformed) masculinities is often what may make these interventions appealing – or palatable – to men who feel that their masculine self has been undermined, through violence and/or due to the structural constraints of conflict-affected spaces. This appeal to respectable, heterosexual masculinities and a focus on male agency is sometimes a deliberate strategy, entry point, or message (such as “real men don’t hit women”) or one that emerges through the dynamics of the intervention (Duriesmith 2019; El-Bushra, Myrttinen, and Naujoks 2014; Gibbs et al. 2020; Pierotti, Lake, and Lewis 2018). Intentionally or unintentionally, the messages can have subliminal misogynist or homophobic undertones, such as that it is socially acceptable for heterosexual men to show vulnerability and emotions, to do care work, to cook, and so on, as this does not “turn them into women” or “make them gay.”

Our experiences of conducting research with male survivors of sexual violence in northern Uganda illuminate similar dynamics, revealing that many male survivors long for a (quite literal) repair of their hegemonic masculinities that were impacted due to sexual violations, and by association a reinstallation of the patriarchal gender hierarchies. In response to their sexual and gendered harms as a result of the sexual violations perpetrated against them (Schulz 2018a), some survivors in the current post-conflict context largely want their gender identities to be repaired or restored, such as through forms of rehabilitation, which is expected to enable them to work again and thus to provide for their families. As one survivor stated, “my major need is rehabilitation. So when I am physically rehabilitated, I will get healing and strength, and I will get a normal life like any other community member and can provide for my wife and children again.” Similarly, a male survivor who has received physical rehabilitation through an organization supporting sexual violence survivors explained that “through the medical treatment, I was able to work again and provide for my family like a man.” What underpins these quests by survivors to have their impacted masculinities repaired or restored is thus “masculinity nostalgia,” a longing to return to a prior patriarchal golden age.

In addition to survivors’ justice-related needs, another context in which some of these dynamics unfold is male sexual survivors’ groups, which among other things assist survivors in rebuilding and repairing previously impaired gender identities (in addition to re-establishing relationships, for instance). As one survivor articulated, “before we came together, we had a lot of feelings of being less of a man, but since being in a group, the feelings … have reduced.” These dynamics develop, in part, because of the groups’ income-generating activities, through which male survivors are enabled to provide for their families once again, as per locally specific expectations of hegemonic masculinity. In the words of one survivor, the activities of the groups “economically empowered us and it psychologically rehabilitated us.” Refugee Law Project (RLP) director Chris Dolan further explained that “[b]eing in a group … helps to give a sense of being recognized as an adult and as a man” (emphasis added; see also Schulz 2020, 119).

As much as these views, desires, and dynamics represent male survivors’ very real and very understandable priorities (and, linked to that, their quests for justice), however, they can also be seen as risking (re)installing and (re-)enforcing patriarchal gender orders, symbolizing a longing for a patriarchal golden age. In many ways, male survivors’ desires to regain and reattain traditional masculine roles, responsibilities, and positions can further fuel heteropatriarchy and gender inequalities, in stark contrast to feminist projects of gender justice, which seek to dismantle these very patriarchal orders and relations (Enloe 2004). After all, repairing the previous status quo and returning men to positions of patriarchal power and male privilege would come at the expense and detriment of efforts to craft more egalitarian and equal gender relations.

Avoiding reasserting patriarchy: Men of Hope – hope for change?

There are, however, potential alternative approaches to working with SVAMB survivors that do not reinstall damaging heteropatriarchal gender identities. Indeed, not all survivors long for a return to a patriarchal golden age; some are instead open to critical engagements with gender, masculinities, and patriarchy. In particular, previous research by the RLP with the Men of Hope survivors’ support group in Kampala found that “[t]he collective consciousness-raising within the group has also begun to challenge many members’ stereotypical ideas around masculinity and manhood, as well as gender equality and views on women” (Edström et al. 2016, 40). In many ways, engagement in the group and sensitization and awareness raising through the collective sharing of experiences facilitate a process of forming new types of masculinities for male survivors.

In the case of Men of Hope, for instance, “several members appear to reject many traditional inequitable norms and ideas” related to masculinities (Edström et al. 2016; Edström and Dolan 2019). This aligns with some of our observations from northern Uganda, where male members of the Men of Courage survivors’ groups at times also demonstrated a rejection of traditional and often restrictive and harmful ideals and conceptions about masculinities. For instance, one member of a survivors’ group explained that “being a man in our culture means … that you cannot be weak. This meant that we could not admit to what happened to us and could not seek any support, which really made it worse for us.” Through the activities and engagements in the group, male survivors thus begin to reconceptualize and renegotiate their own gendered identities, shaped by new (and possibly more gender-equal) understandings of masculinity. As such, groups such as Men of Courage in northern Uganda and Men of Hope in Kampala offer some hope for change in terms of avoiding a reassertion of patriarchal norms, instead engaging and negotiating different conceptions around gender.

At the same time, however, and despite these tendencies and pathways in the groups, survivors’ wider socio-ecological environments uphold these traditional, hegemonic notions of masculinity, thus making it inherently difficult for survivors to fully enact change beyond the relatively safe spaces and confines of the groups. Responsibility for implementing these broader societal and structural changes cannot be placed solely on the shoulders of already victimized, marginalized, and vulnerable survivors of GBV. To establish whether the collective sensitization and awareness raising in the groups, and the associated changes in these micro-contexts, lead to any real change in survivors’ perceptions of gender and masculinities, and whether these dynamics travel beyond the context of the groups, further longitudinal research is needed.

Lack of diversity in diverse SOGIESC research and policy

While the issue of SVAMB has gained prominence on the international stage (albeit not without pushback), there has been less attention paid to conflict-related GBV against persons of diverse SOGIESC (Hagen 2016). Nonetheless, it is an issue that is also increasingly making its way into policy discussions, thanks especially to the work of SOGIESC rights activists, researchers, and allies in national governments, state agencies, and international agencies (see Hagen, Daigle, and Myrttinen 2021). The Colombian, Iraqi, and Syrian civil wars and attendant crises of displacement in particular have helped to catalyze this process (see for example CNMH 2018; Hagen 2017; HRW 2020; Kıvılcım 2017; Maydaa, Chayya, and Myrttinen 2020; Myrttinen, Khattab, and Maydaa 2017; Saleh 2020; Serrano-Amaya 2018; Thylin 2019).

While the inclusion of the experiences of persons of diverse SOGIESC in these debates is overdue and welcome, there are risks and shortcomings involved as well. As with the GBV policy debates more broadly, there is a risk of a limited focus on CRSV only. Such a violation-centric lens loses sight of a broader understanding of the structural elements underpinning multiple forms of violence and discrimination faced by persons of diverse SOGIESC both in times of conflict and in “peacetime,” and the fact that much of the violence is committed by civilians rather than armed actors (Daigle and Myrttinen 2018; Maydaa, Chayya, and Myrttinen 2020). As with feminist critiques of continuums of violence (Cockburn 2010), the false notion of a clean break between times of war and peace, and a focus on the former, obscures the everyday violence and discrimination with which many women and persons of diverse SOGIESC are confronted in peacetime.

Furthermore, especially in more overarching policy approaches, persons of diverse SOGIESC are primarily treated as a homogeneous group, and there is often little understanding of the overlaps of the categories of “women and girls” and “men and boys” with and within the category of diverse SOGIESC. First, as is the case with gender more broadly, diverse SOGIESC intersect with other social identity markers such as age, class, location, disability, and ethno-religious background, creating differential possibilities and constraints for agency and vulnerabilities. For example, an upper middle-class gay lawyer or doctor is positioned differently in terms of vulnerabilities and possibilities for agency than a socio-economically marginalized trans sex worker. Second, depending on the context, there may be specific risks and vulnerabilities but also openness and tolerance for particular SOGIESC and not others (such as societal acceptance of gay men or lesbian women but not of trans women, or vice versa). Third, the simple addition of “ … and LGBTIQ+ persons” to the common litany of “women, men, girls, and boys” ignores the fact that a large proportion of persons of diverse SOGIESC do identify as women/girls or men/boys, be it as lesbian women, gay boys, trans men, or trans women. Fourth, this homogenizing approach may paper over some very real tensions between different persons of diverse SOGIESC, including racism, class-based discrimination, misogyny against “femme” gay men and trans women, transphobia, or lesbophobia (Maydaa, Chayya, and Myrttinen 2020).

A further problematic trend has been the partial invisibilization of lesbian and bisexual women’s needs and vulnerabilities, especially in NGO research. These vulnerabilities include all of those that heterosexual women face in a patriarchal society (Enloe 2017), and are often compounded by further risks and vulnerabilities if their sexual orientation is revealed, in addition to particular forms of homophobic violence (Daigle and Myrttinen 2018). This invisibilization has been reflected in a number of recent pieces of NGO research on SVAMB in which the scope has been expanded to also include men targeted for their homosexual orientation and trans women, but with no consideration of lesbian and bisexual women’s experiences (see for example HRW 2020; Kiss et al. 2020). Studies focusing on VAWG, meanwhile, also often tend not to specifically address the role of women’s SOGIESC in exacerbating vulnerabilities. As much as there is a need to raise awareness of violence against men of diverse SOGIESC, this must not be at the cost of women of diverse SOGIESC.

Similar to our critique of SVAMB work above, we welcome the increased attention paid to diverse SOGIESC in policy and practice, but call for a more nuanced approach. This requires going beyond the first step of merely adding “LGBTIQ+” to documents, to consistently taking into account intersectionality and the local context to understand the diversity among persons of diverse SOGIESC. It should especially not mean invisibilizing the experiences and needs of women of diverse SOGIESC or conflating all homophobic and transphobic violence with SVAMB.

Furthermore, as indicated above, when working on SOGIESC issues and on GBV more broadly, the concept of a continuum of violence (Cockburn 2010) needs to be taken seriously, rather than having an implicit hierarchy whereby sexual violence perpetrated by armed actors during active conflict is seen as being a priori worse and more worthy of attention than sexual violence perpetrated by civilians (Swaine 2018). Reflecting on the experiences of conflict, displacement, and peacebuilding of persons of diverse SOGIESC also shows how there are multiple continuums at work simultaneously, be it spatially or temporally, and involving a variety of actors and taking a multitude of forms (Daigle and Myrttinen 2018; Serrano-Amaya 2018). This also includes accounting for patriarchal, misogynist, homophobic, lesbophobic, and transphobic as well as racist and class-based discrimination and violence among persons of diverse SOGIESC themselves (Maydaa, Chayya, and Myrttinen 2020).

Conclusion

In this article, we have sought to critically examine some of the (potentially) problematic undercurrents present in emerging work on GBV, be it in terms of tensions between VAWG and SVAMB, the problematic undertones of “emasculation,” “feminization,” and “homosexualization,” or the increasing consideration of persons of diverse SOGIESC. We see the work with men on GBV and on gender equality more broadly as essential, and applaud the broadening of the scope of debates on it. However, we are concerned about how some approaches run the risk of obscuring the needs of non-male survivors of GBV, of invisibilizing women and different persons of diverse SOGIESC, and of reifying heterosexual masculinities and perpetrating tropes and attitudes that denigrate women, non-heterosexual men, and persons of diverse SOGIESC. These approaches, wittingly or unwittingly, play on (re-)establishing male privilege and notions of “re-masculinization” and “masculinity nostalgia,” with attendant undertones of misogyny, homophobia, and transphobia. They can be quite successful inasmuch as they make it easier for men and boys to engage and feel better about their transformed masculinities, and, importantly, they reflect the wishes of many of the men involved. Problematically, however, they do not necessarily lead to a questioning of the heteropatriarchal status quo and hegemonic notions of masculinity that contribute to the perpetration of GBV in the first place, and its effectiveness in undermining male survivors’ gendered sense of self.

Emphasizing the importance of moving beyond simplified and reductionist approaches to integrating men and boys in GBV work and programming, and avoiding hierarchies of pitching SVAMB against VAWG or violence against persons of diverse SOGIESC, we highlight the relationalities of gender. As such, analyses of masculinities cannot be decoupled from examinations of femininities as well as other non-binary gender identities and patriarchal gender hierarchies, and must instead be situated in relation to and complement examinations of gendered experiences more broadly (Sjoberg 2013). To ultimately understand and address the complexities of gender and violence during and in the wake of conflict, it is important to emphasize that the experiences of men, women, and persons of diverse SOGIESC cannot exist but in relation to each other (Schulz 2019). Importantly, such a relational perspective “draws attention to the wider web of social entanglements through which power circulates and is contested” (Aijazi and Baines 2017, 468).

Taking this into account, then, programming with and for survivors of SVAMB, as well as work with men and masculinities more broadly, must actively promote the transformation of gender hierarchies, rather than a reassertion of heteropatriarchy and men’s sense of entitlement. As we have indicated above, some of this can take shape in the context of support groups for male survivors, in which members can be aided in developing more egalitarian forms of masculinity, rather than adhering to the masculinity nostalgia that often accompanies this work and survivors’ quests.

Debates that pitch VAWG against SVAMB or violence against persons of diverse SOGIESC simultaneously touch upon and miss an important point: while competition over limited resources is real, the more salient issue is that significant gaps exist in funding and in services for survivors more broadly regardless of their gender identity. Despite increased international attention to CRSV, this has not yet resulted in improved service delivery for all survivors (Casey et al. 2015; Touquet et al. 2020). This lack of funding and services “is a global issue affecting survivors of all genders and sexualities” (Touquet et al. 2020, 30), and is to date particularly pronounced for men and boys and persons of diverse SOGIESC. Improvements in this area, however, cannot come at the expense of work on VAWG, which is already inadequately resourced.

Work on SVAMB and diverse SOGIESC therefore needs to be cognizant of the multiple potential pitfalls of reasserting male privilege, invisibilizing certain categories of survivors, and perpetuating misogynist, homophobic, and transphobic language, dynamics, and exclusions. Acknowledging these risks can constitute the first step in developing more careful, inclusive, and holistic programs and forms of assistance in response to GBV in general, and for survivors of SVAMB in particular. As such, our critique does not equate existing work on SVAMB with homophobia or misogyny; instead, it serves to point out gaps and potential sites of friction, with a view toward improving programs, assistance, and interventions for sexual violence survivors of all genders. These, we argue, must be based on intersectional, fluid, and relational understandings of gender in general, and of masculinities in particular, and must be designed toward the transformation of gender hierarchies, in line with feminist principles.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the authors.

Additional information

Funding

This work was supported by Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft: [Grant Number SCHU 3391/1-1].

Notes on contributors

Henri Myrttinen

Henri Myrttinen is a Visiting Research Fellow at the University of Bremen, Germany, and has been working on issues of gender, peace, and security for two decades, including with a focus on masculinities and diverse SOGIESC in conflicts and post-conflict.

Philipp Schulz

Philipp Schulz is a Postdoctoral Researcher at the Institute for Intercultural and International Studies (InIIS) at the University of Bremen, Germany. His work engages with the gender dynamics of armed conflict, political violence, and (post-)conflict transitions.

Notes

1 An analysis of funding for sexual and reproductive health services, including post-rape care, in humanitarian appeals found that between 2009 and 2013, only 37 percent of the total number of GBV-related funding requests were financed (Tanabe et al. 2015). Between 2016 and 2018, only 0.1 percent of humanitarian response funding was allocated to GBV programs, while two-thirds of GBV-related funding requests were unfunded (Voice and International Rescue Committee 2019).

2 We use the term “diverse SOGIESC” here rather than “LGBTIQ+” (lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, intersex, queer, and others) as we see “SOGIESC” as being a more comprehensive term.

3 The Resolution “not[es] with concern that sexual violence in armed conflict and post-conflict situations … also affect[s] men and boys.”

4 Ward (2016, 297) does also emphasize that “it is a positive development that the needs of male survivors and LGBTI populations … have been brought into focus.”

5 Summarizing the nuances of this debate goes beyond the scope of this article; thus, we focus on the most salient points for our argument here.

6 This was an opinion openly expressed by a high-level representative of an international financial institution when discussing SVAMB in the context of the Syrian War.

7 While GBV always strikes at the gendered identities of victims/survivors and is thus able to be more “effective” in causing immense short-, medium- and long-term harms, the acts in and of themselves would still cause serious damage and trauma even if the gendered dimensions were not present.

8 Some of these dynamics are also intentionally or unintentionally present in masculinities work in development practice more broadly (see for example Duriesmith 2019; Gibbs et al. 2020; Wright 2020).

9 It should be noted that the notion of “return” often relies on a mischaracterization both of the past as being a harmonious patriarchy that was beneficial to all and of the present as not being patriarchal.