7 thoughts on “7 | Masculinity and Vulnerabilities”
Chaimae Chouiekh
When I was Reflecting on the CBC and Halifax Examiner articles, I tried to look at it from a Journalist lense. The first obvious conclusion was that the Halifax Examiner article felt personal like opening a diary while the CBC one was just trying to put out the facts. One is immediately drawn into the complex interplay of gender, justice, and societal response to allegations of sexual misconduct.
In the case of the murder of Desmond’s family and his suicide, I felt that one important thing that was not tackled in there was what he did in Afghanistan. I always find it interesting how everyone tackles how the soldier feels after having committed atrocities they make going to Afghanistan seem like going to fulfill a duty while this person might have taken the life of multiple Afghan citizens but with no repercussions whatsoever and no one talks about this angle of the story. As if it is normal and as if soldiers are entitled to do that ( we can even see that in film and TV )
The CBC article, which reports on the acquittal of a high-profile individual following allegations of sexual assault, serves as a potent reminder of the judicial system’s complexities and its often contentious relationship with gender and power dynamics. This scenario underscores a critical tension within feminist critiques of the legal system: the challenge of balancing the presumption of innocence with the imperative to support and believe survivors. I agree with El Jones, it is striking that no research was done on Desmond’s wife even though she is a victim.
El Jones article really resonates with me as I found a lot of parallels between what she describes of “being a black lady” and being an arab women. My dad’s mother always talked about marriage as the ultimate prize a women can get and that she should stick though thick and thin with her husband no matter how awful he is. Because it gives the wife status, importance and respect in society. I grew up fundamentally resenting this to the point where even now while I’m enjoying a very healthy relationship with my partner and would want to marry him out of love, a part of me still resents marriage and sees it as some sort of prison because how I saw women in my family suffer with it.
The discussion on sexual violence against men and boys in conflict situations sheds light on a critically underreported dimension of human rights abuses. It challenges prevailing stereotypes and societal norms that often render such violence invisible or inconsequential. This analysis contributes to a growing recognition of the need for comprehensive approaches to sexual violence that encompass all genders, recognizing the unique vulnerabilities and stigmatization faced by male survivors.
By highlighting the intersection of gender, power, and violence, this examination calls for a reevaluation of legal frameworks, support systems, and societal attitudes towards survivors of sexual violence. It advocates for inclusivity and sensitivity in addressing the traumas of conflict, underscoring the necessity of dismantling gender-based assumptions that hinder the path to justice and healing for all survivors.
It is interesting to me when it comes to gender normative perception, I always saw women being portrayed as fragile or capable of emotions as a strength that was underappreciated. My mom has showing more emotional intelligence than my dad my whole life which I think is one of the greatest signs of strength.
In light of these reflections, two questions emerge for further discussion:
1. How can our legal and societal systems be reformed to support survivors of sexual violence better while ensuring a fair and just process for all parties involved?
2. What role can feminist perspectives and practices play in challenging existing power dynamics and fostering a more inclusive and empathetic approach to dealing with allegations of sexual misconduct?
This week’s readings brought a diversity of perspectives on male vulnerabilities to gendered violence and the reassertion of patriarchal values. Perhaps most moving for me was the common thread of silencing survivors, regardless of gender. I found both of Schulz’s articles provided a fulsome picture of how silencing of men and people of diverse SOGIESC can take place. Reading Okwera’s testimony, paired with the theoretical framing of ‘ethical loneliness’ made me quite sad … It almost feels like the justice system has been built to silence survivors – and perhaps this is true. We see the systemic silencing through the gender-exclusive terms of legal definitions, claim rape is committed solely with ‘female victims and male perpetrators’. The definition reducing sexual violence to a narrow definition directly silences anyone who falls outside of the gendered roles – particularly men and people of diverse SOGIESC. Further silencing is demonstrated in a nuanced way when the type of sexual violence is deemed worse and more ‘worthy of attention’: violence committed by armed actors or by civilians.
With this context, I can (to some degree) understand why male survivors might struggle with male nostalgia. When power has been taken from you, the desire for a ‘return to normal’ is understandable – especially when the ‘norm’ is where men are seen as head of the household, decision-makers, sovereigns of the family. I thought Schulz and Myrttinen explored this well in their article. They emphasized the importance of intersectionality in restorative justice practices and the importance of transforming – not simply re-building.
Contrasting from the academic readings, El Jones’ piece was incredibly thought provoking on how an over fixation on men (in this case, PTSD, militarization, and access to services) silenced Shanna Desmond’s story, identity and right to safety. Instead of a focused discussion on domestic violence, the dominating narrative was the system failure for Lionel and lack of access to needed services.
Going back to the common thread of silencing… what would it look like to not silence survivors of sexual violence? Men, women, and people of diverse SOGIESC? What needs to transform in order to do so?
How can we (wider society) create caring spaces where ‘ethical loneliness’ is no longer?
This week’s readings, all talked about the dynamics of gender violence within societies, homes and conflicts zones, and how male as both victims and survivors are silenced when they experience sexual violence. This silencing perpetuates a cycle of suffering, leaving a legacy of unhealed trauma that echoes through generations.
Desmond’s narrative stands as a poignant testament to the enduring impact of unaddressed trauma, emphasizing the ripple effects that trauma can have on individuals, families, and communities. The bureaucratic hurdles of the situation through authorities and the military force described in the article mirror the stigma surrounding mental health, a stigma amplified within institutions such as the military. This reflects what lots of men face in communities, where they are often told to be strong, not to cry or show emotions because that diminish their “manhood.” El-Jones’ exploration of gender norms and cultural violence further underscores the pervasive nature of these issues, particularly within black communities where women are often expected to endure violence silently.
The articles by Schulz paint a harrowing picture of the silence and suffering endured by male survivors of sexual violence, a silence perpetuated by socially constructed notions of masculinity and vulnerability. Indeed, I agree with him that scholarly discourse, activism, and policy responses have predominantly focused on the experiences of women and girls, leaving male survivors marginalized and neglected. We see this exclusion even in current conflicts, where most reports and narrative around number of people who are suffering or have been killed, they always add including women and children. Or they would only mention women and children. I understand that when it comes to war and conflicts women and children suffer more, but the suffering of men is often overshadowed by the emphasis on the vulnerability of women and children. It is imperative that we challenge this narrative and acknowledge the suffering of all individuals affected by conflict-related sexual violence.
A few weeks ago, I attended the Women, Peace, and Security conference in Ottawa, which was exclusively attended by women. During the conference, there was a discussion about the inclusion of men. Some participants argued that men already possess sufficient power, platforms, and spaces to express themselves due to inherent privilege, suggesting that their inclusion is unnecessary. Others contended that men should be included as allies and to provide support for male survivors, enabling them to share their stories, heal, and learn from their experiences. Reflecting on these readings, I realized the extent to which male survivors are often overlooked in research, storytelling, and healing environments.
As we engage in discussions surrounding men, masculinities, and vulnerability, it is essential to create spaces where male survivors feel empowered to share their experiences and seek support. The continued silence and lack of support for male survivors perpetuate their isolation and hinder their healing journey. Only through amplifying their voices and challenging societal norms can we begin to dismantle the barriers that perpetuate their silence and neglect. In doing so, we move closer to achieving a more inclusive and compassionate society, one that recognizes and responds to the complex experiences of all individuals impacted by sexual violence.
It feels like a particularly poignant week to be discussing the topic of masculinities and war, due to the death by self-immolation of American soldier, Aaron Bushnell, in protest of the ongoing genocide in Palestine. His death by protest – much like the death by suicide of Lionel Desmond – is a stark reminder that systems of oppression and violence fail all of us (even those who land on the side of privilege or who are supposed to be “protected” by being on the inside).
Myrttinen & Schulz’s article brings up a fascinating and heartbreaking dichotomy: how can the legitimate concerns regarding experiences of sexual violence against men and boys (SVAMB) and legitimate harms against persons of diverse SOGIESC be addressed without “reinforcing misogyny and homophobia”? Their careful exploration of this normative dichotomy shows the lingering social default to categorize gender and gender-based violence, including conflict-related or wartime sexual violence, into binary categories of “hegemonic notions of masculinity”, though nothing about sexual or gender-based harm or about conflict or wartime is devoid of complicating layers of intersectionality.
In this dichotomy they further explore the language and idea of “emasculation” by way of “feminization” and/or “homosexualization”, where anything that devotes from heterosexual masculinities and the hetero-patriarchal status quo is seen as less than. To this, they write, “even the language of these classifications can in many ways be seen as normalizing the underpinning assumption that femininities and homosexualities are automatically associated with vulnerability, victimization, and devaluation. Such dynamics and assumptions partly rely upon (implicit and explicit) misogyny, gender essentialism, and homophobia.”
Parallel to this, Schulz’s work on the “ethical loneliness” of male sexual violence survivors in Northern Uganda was powerful and harrowing. Not only do many victims of SVAMB not only face the trauma of sexual violence and harm, but also must endure such violence under the structural violence of heteropatriarchy, which in turn “inflicts additional harms of abandonment, neglect, and loneliness.” This ethical loneliness, though specific here to war, reminds me of many of the concepts explored in Frederick Joseph’s Patriarchy Blues and its exploration of how patriarchal norms are not only fundamentally harmful to women and girls, but also to men, creating toxic and harmful norms under which no human can truly flourish without being dehumanized themselves.
And the harm rarely (if ever) stops with the person experiencing the harm. El Jones’ look at the social “erasure” of the murders of Shanna Desmond, Aaliyah Desmond, and Brenda Desmond show that even when compassion and empathy for PTSD and the harm of patriarchal militarism are noted, they erase the experiences of those who are harmed by the person who has been harmed by these oppressive systems (including the double-erasure of Black women, Indigenous women or women of colour). The forces creating a vicious and reinforcing cycle, making it hard for all to exist in any kind of wholeness, but especially for Black women and Indigenous women who are left trying – first and fundamentally – to survive.
Question(s):
– How might a more expansive understanding of the “relationalities of gender” lead us into more effective understandings of and strategies to address a variety of gender-based violences, including VAWG, SVAMB, or violence against persons of diverse SOGIESC?
– Does the current language of progressive ideologies make it harder or easier to create safe spaces around ethical loneliness? If so, how can we remedy that?
I overheard a relative commenting about my divorce to my mother, shortly after it happened. “Divorce has become so common now. Marriage has become a joke,” she had said.
While her comment could have pierced through my heart at a time when my world was crashing down on me, it was my mother’s response to that woman that gave me strength.
“Because women now recognize their worth. They know they don’t have to stay with men who abuse, them or try to clip their wings. They can stand on their own feet and thrive,” my mother responded to the dumbfounded, nosy relative.
Reading El Jones piece, ‘Remember, You are a Lady,’ reminded me of this incident. That article was painful yet empowering in so many ways. But this quote is what stood out to me: “This is what our elders knew about survival, and what they taught us. They never dreamed of leaving marriages, whether there was infidelity, whether there was abuse, whether he disappeared.” All my life, this is what I had seen all around me. So, when I realized I was stuck in a marriage with a violent man towering over me, I knew my life was over. Thankfully, I got an escape, and that is perhaps, a story for another time.
This is why I love this course so much. And this is why it weighs heavily on me more than any other classes I am taking. Every week’s readings are not just insightful but they also give me a chance to untangle and make sense of the labyrinth of my own complex experiences too, as a woman and a survivor of domestic abuse. And perhaps someone who has been viewing the world through a one-dimensional lens, as this week’s readings on masculinity made me realise.
The stories of Shanna, Aaliyah and Brenda Desmond were something I was already all too familiar with. But it was Lionel Desmond’s story that made me question everything. Are we just casualties of violent individuals, or are we collectively ensnared by a system that fosters such violence? And when violence occurs, can it simply be dismissed as a manifestation of mental illness?
According to the CBC article, PTSD is cited as a reason for Desmond’s actions. While it’s true that societal norms of toxic masculinity contribute to the cultivation of violence in men, the issue is more complex. Countless ‘ordinary’ men perpetrate violence in private. Maybe this is linked to the cultural restrictions on men expressing their emotions, suggesting a deeper systemic problem. Or maybe somewhere deep inside, the parts of me that have been maimed by men, refuse to find justifications for their actions.
I have so much to say about this but I don’t know how to say it or if any of this even makes sense. Maybe I am mixing very different things together or maybe all of it is interconnected.
That being said, patriarchy not only oppresses women but also harms men, trapping them in cycles of violence. The issue of sexual violence against men is largely ignored, leaving many silent for fear of undermining their masculinity. The neglect of men and individuals with diverse sexual orientations is a significant concern, as noted by Henri Myrttinen and Philipp Schulz, as well as R. Charli Carpenter.
A key insight from the readings was the notion of “masculinity nostalgia,” where male survivors of GBV seek to return to traditional masculine roles and patriarchal structures. While it is understandable that it is a response to trauma and a desire for normalcy, this longing potentially undermines efforts towards gender equality and the dismantling of patriarchal systems.
And I may be getting all my thoughts and concepts tangled up, but after the readings, I have only one conclusion: as a society, we must confront the uncomfortable truth that our own structures and norms may be responsible for cultivating violence among men. This violence is a self-destructive force that extends its harm beyond the individual, affecting all gender identities. We are faced with the urgent task of dismantling this destructive cycle that we have, perhaps unwittingly, perpetuated.
Question:
– How can we balance the need to address violence perpetrated by men with the necessity of understanding the societal pressures they face?
– How can we reconcile the need for justice for survivors of domestic abuse with the understanding of the systemic issues that may contribute to an abuser’s behaviour?
This is a topic I have been looking forward to. I suppose for various reasons. For one, in the context of life in Pakistan, men and women alike contribute to toxic ideal of what masculinity ought or ought not be. Over time I learned masculinity is not a fixed concept and it does not need to be defined by dominance and control. Growing up it has been alien to see men cry or express emotions other than anger and disappointment expect with other men. Even our women, I must admit are by and large guilty of vaporizing hyper masculine traits thus perpetuating harmful stereotypes that hurt the women and girls around such men and also the young boys pushed to embrace such attitudes and demeanours.
Growing up in Pakistan, societal norms often dictate rigid gender roles, where boys are taught from a young age that showing vulnerability or expressing emotions is a sign of weakness. Boys are told not to cry, as it may invite ridicule or mockery from people. This ingrained expectation perpetuates the notion that men should be stoic/emotionless and unyielding in the face of pain or hardship. As a result, boys and men internalize these beliefs, suppress their emotions and suffering in silence to conform to societal expectations of masculinity. I remember a particular conversation I had with my little brother many years ago when I advised him not to cry in front of others, warning him that people would laugh at him if he did in an attempt to comfort him. I told him we can’t always trust people with our feelings and now I often think of what harm I must have caused. I wonder how strongly they actually believe these?
More recently, Aaron Bushnell, a US airforce officer, only 25, who set himself on fire in front of the Israeli embassy in Washington is unfortunately another victim it appears of the profound despair and desperation men and boys experience in response to pressures with no outlet until it all comes too fast. His suffering is being downplayed by the media. Carpenter’s reading talks about ethical loneliness they experience as survivors. I also think of Schulz’s work and how male survivors albeit in that case of sexual assault are silenced or referred to as mentally ill as in the case of Aaron Bushnell, a low blow. The voices of men suffering I firmly believe need to be used to challenge dominant narratives and foster healing.
Masculinity is also multidimensional. It comprises of complexities of masculinity, violence, and power dynamics such as shown through the portrayal of Palestinian men in the media. Palestinian men often find themselves marginalized and dehumanized, their lives reduced to mere statistics. In places like Palestine, the idea of being a strong and dominant man is highly valued, especially in conflict situations where militarized masculinity is glorified. However, for many Palestinian men, achieving this idealized version of masculinity is nearly impossible due to the systemic oppression, violence, and displacement they face here in the West. Why does hegemonic masculinity take on a distinct character in the context of Palestinian/Muslim men?
I met a loved one this reading week shortly after having learned of how she was pushed into a marriage as she wanted a partner when she was only barely of legal age then subjected to domestic abuse, whereas men in the family have no difficulty having girlfriends which is normalized. It upsets me to see how my life turned out and how hers has, when she was so much more pious and gentle than I was at her age. It is disheartening to witness how women are often denied agency over their lives and decisions, while men are afforded freedoms and opportunities without question. My circle was the last place I expected such a draconian decision to be made.
Societal conditioning can lead men to feel compelled to assert control over their partners and families, resorting to abusive behaviors to maintain their sense of power and authority as best explained in the El Jones article. The normalization of abuse and silence within relationships speaks to a broader cultural acceptance of toxic masculinity, where expressions of vulnerability or emotional distress are dismissed as passing thoughts. I know the big ones but I wonder what subtle yet pervasive societal messages contribute to the perpetuation of toxic masculinity?
This week’s readings highlighted the critical human security issue of gender-based violence.
It underscored that gender-based violence is not confined to a single gender. The readings illuminated for me the harsh reality that men and boys are also vulnerable to the horrors of gender-based violence, and in the context of the readings in conflict zones. This challenged my preconceptions and made me reflect on how societal norms can perpetuate harmful behaviours and attitudes.
During an interview for the Gp2 project, one of the interviewees from Global Affairs made a profound point: gender advisors need not be limited to women; men have a crucial role to play in challenging gender norms and dismantling structures of violence. This resonated deeply with me, highlighting the importance of collective action in addressing this pervasive issue.
The Carpenter reading allowed me to consider masculinity and its intersection with forced conscription. It allowed me to reckon with the ways in which societal expectations can strip away autonomy and humanity that can perpetuate cycles of violence. The readings underscore gender-violence within mass atrocities and the mechanisms by which gender inequalities endure and are perpetuated across different contexts and structures. Carpenter also addresses the lack of comprehensive data on sexual crimes further underscored the challenges in addressing gender-based violence effectively. Without accurate data, it’s often difficult to fully comprehend the extent of the problem and implement targeted interventions.
The Schulz et al. reading challenged me to broaden my perspective on gender, urging me to embrace a more inclusive understanding that transcends binary frameworks. The readings this week also alluded to the prevalence of intimate partner violence that is an issue that persists. The story of the Desmond family served as a stark reminder of the urgent need for action to prevent such tragedies in the future. It left me grappling with questions about the role of gender stereotypes in fueling violence and the importance of creating stigma-free support systems for survivors. This societal expectation, ingrained from a young age, may lead men to believe that showing emotions goes against traditional notions of masculinity. Consequently, many men internalize these beliefs, feeling pressured to adhere to these norms and consequently refrain from sharing their feelings or seeking support when necessary. The readings also got me wondering how we can decrease the bureaucratic hurdles to ensure that individuals get accessible support when needed.
It is interesting to read the El Jones article, who notes the media coverage overwhelmingly focused on Lionel Desmond and the reasons behind his actions. Conversely, there has been minimal attention given to Shanna Desmond—her identity, life, achievements, and challenges. This made me think of the #SayHerName campaign, aiming to spotlight the often-overlooked reality that Black men are not the sole victims of police violence at disproportionately high rates. This campaign shines a light on the frequently overlooked names and narratives of Black women and girls who have suffered from racialized police violence. Overall, this week’s readings prompted helped me reflect on the urgent need for a more inclusive approach to understanding gender dynamics in conflict and security.
When I was Reflecting on the CBC and Halifax Examiner articles, I tried to look at it from a Journalist lense. The first obvious conclusion was that the Halifax Examiner article felt personal like opening a diary while the CBC one was just trying to put out the facts. One is immediately drawn into the complex interplay of gender, justice, and societal response to allegations of sexual misconduct.
In the case of the murder of Desmond’s family and his suicide, I felt that one important thing that was not tackled in there was what he did in Afghanistan. I always find it interesting how everyone tackles how the soldier feels after having committed atrocities they make going to Afghanistan seem like going to fulfill a duty while this person might have taken the life of multiple Afghan citizens but with no repercussions whatsoever and no one talks about this angle of the story. As if it is normal and as if soldiers are entitled to do that ( we can even see that in film and TV )
The CBC article, which reports on the acquittal of a high-profile individual following allegations of sexual assault, serves as a potent reminder of the judicial system’s complexities and its often contentious relationship with gender and power dynamics. This scenario underscores a critical tension within feminist critiques of the legal system: the challenge of balancing the presumption of innocence with the imperative to support and believe survivors. I agree with El Jones, it is striking that no research was done on Desmond’s wife even though she is a victim.
El Jones article really resonates with me as I found a lot of parallels between what she describes of “being a black lady” and being an arab women. My dad’s mother always talked about marriage as the ultimate prize a women can get and that she should stick though thick and thin with her husband no matter how awful he is. Because it gives the wife status, importance and respect in society. I grew up fundamentally resenting this to the point where even now while I’m enjoying a very healthy relationship with my partner and would want to marry him out of love, a part of me still resents marriage and sees it as some sort of prison because how I saw women in my family suffer with it.
The discussion on sexual violence against men and boys in conflict situations sheds light on a critically underreported dimension of human rights abuses. It challenges prevailing stereotypes and societal norms that often render such violence invisible or inconsequential. This analysis contributes to a growing recognition of the need for comprehensive approaches to sexual violence that encompass all genders, recognizing the unique vulnerabilities and stigmatization faced by male survivors.
By highlighting the intersection of gender, power, and violence, this examination calls for a reevaluation of legal frameworks, support systems, and societal attitudes towards survivors of sexual violence. It advocates for inclusivity and sensitivity in addressing the traumas of conflict, underscoring the necessity of dismantling gender-based assumptions that hinder the path to justice and healing for all survivors.
It is interesting to me when it comes to gender normative perception, I always saw women being portrayed as fragile or capable of emotions as a strength that was underappreciated. My mom has showing more emotional intelligence than my dad my whole life which I think is one of the greatest signs of strength.
In light of these reflections, two questions emerge for further discussion:
1. How can our legal and societal systems be reformed to support survivors of sexual violence better while ensuring a fair and just process for all parties involved?
2. What role can feminist perspectives and practices play in challenging existing power dynamics and fostering a more inclusive and empathetic approach to dealing with allegations of sexual misconduct?
This week’s readings brought a diversity of perspectives on male vulnerabilities to gendered violence and the reassertion of patriarchal values. Perhaps most moving for me was the common thread of silencing survivors, regardless of gender. I found both of Schulz’s articles provided a fulsome picture of how silencing of men and people of diverse SOGIESC can take place. Reading Okwera’s testimony, paired with the theoretical framing of ‘ethical loneliness’ made me quite sad … It almost feels like the justice system has been built to silence survivors – and perhaps this is true. We see the systemic silencing through the gender-exclusive terms of legal definitions, claim rape is committed solely with ‘female victims and male perpetrators’. The definition reducing sexual violence to a narrow definition directly silences anyone who falls outside of the gendered roles – particularly men and people of diverse SOGIESC. Further silencing is demonstrated in a nuanced way when the type of sexual violence is deemed worse and more ‘worthy of attention’: violence committed by armed actors or by civilians.
With this context, I can (to some degree) understand why male survivors might struggle with male nostalgia. When power has been taken from you, the desire for a ‘return to normal’ is understandable – especially when the ‘norm’ is where men are seen as head of the household, decision-makers, sovereigns of the family. I thought Schulz and Myrttinen explored this well in their article. They emphasized the importance of intersectionality in restorative justice practices and the importance of transforming – not simply re-building.
Contrasting from the academic readings, El Jones’ piece was incredibly thought provoking on how an over fixation on men (in this case, PTSD, militarization, and access to services) silenced Shanna Desmond’s story, identity and right to safety. Instead of a focused discussion on domestic violence, the dominating narrative was the system failure for Lionel and lack of access to needed services.
Going back to the common thread of silencing… what would it look like to not silence survivors of sexual violence? Men, women, and people of diverse SOGIESC? What needs to transform in order to do so?
How can we (wider society) create caring spaces where ‘ethical loneliness’ is no longer?
This week’s readings, all talked about the dynamics of gender violence within societies, homes and conflicts zones, and how male as both victims and survivors are silenced when they experience sexual violence. This silencing perpetuates a cycle of suffering, leaving a legacy of unhealed trauma that echoes through generations.
Desmond’s narrative stands as a poignant testament to the enduring impact of unaddressed trauma, emphasizing the ripple effects that trauma can have on individuals, families, and communities. The bureaucratic hurdles of the situation through authorities and the military force described in the article mirror the stigma surrounding mental health, a stigma amplified within institutions such as the military. This reflects what lots of men face in communities, where they are often told to be strong, not to cry or show emotions because that diminish their “manhood.” El-Jones’ exploration of gender norms and cultural violence further underscores the pervasive nature of these issues, particularly within black communities where women are often expected to endure violence silently.
The articles by Schulz paint a harrowing picture of the silence and suffering endured by male survivors of sexual violence, a silence perpetuated by socially constructed notions of masculinity and vulnerability. Indeed, I agree with him that scholarly discourse, activism, and policy responses have predominantly focused on the experiences of women and girls, leaving male survivors marginalized and neglected. We see this exclusion even in current conflicts, where most reports and narrative around number of people who are suffering or have been killed, they always add including women and children. Or they would only mention women and children. I understand that when it comes to war and conflicts women and children suffer more, but the suffering of men is often overshadowed by the emphasis on the vulnerability of women and children. It is imperative that we challenge this narrative and acknowledge the suffering of all individuals affected by conflict-related sexual violence.
A few weeks ago, I attended the Women, Peace, and Security conference in Ottawa, which was exclusively attended by women. During the conference, there was a discussion about the inclusion of men. Some participants argued that men already possess sufficient power, platforms, and spaces to express themselves due to inherent privilege, suggesting that their inclusion is unnecessary. Others contended that men should be included as allies and to provide support for male survivors, enabling them to share their stories, heal, and learn from their experiences. Reflecting on these readings, I realized the extent to which male survivors are often overlooked in research, storytelling, and healing environments.
As we engage in discussions surrounding men, masculinities, and vulnerability, it is essential to create spaces where male survivors feel empowered to share their experiences and seek support. The continued silence and lack of support for male survivors perpetuate their isolation and hinder their healing journey. Only through amplifying their voices and challenging societal norms can we begin to dismantle the barriers that perpetuate their silence and neglect. In doing so, we move closer to achieving a more inclusive and compassionate society, one that recognizes and responds to the complex experiences of all individuals impacted by sexual violence.
It feels like a particularly poignant week to be discussing the topic of masculinities and war, due to the death by self-immolation of American soldier, Aaron Bushnell, in protest of the ongoing genocide in Palestine. His death by protest – much like the death by suicide of Lionel Desmond – is a stark reminder that systems of oppression and violence fail all of us (even those who land on the side of privilege or who are supposed to be “protected” by being on the inside).
Myrttinen & Schulz’s article brings up a fascinating and heartbreaking dichotomy: how can the legitimate concerns regarding experiences of sexual violence against men and boys (SVAMB) and legitimate harms against persons of diverse SOGIESC be addressed without “reinforcing misogyny and homophobia”? Their careful exploration of this normative dichotomy shows the lingering social default to categorize gender and gender-based violence, including conflict-related or wartime sexual violence, into binary categories of “hegemonic notions of masculinity”, though nothing about sexual or gender-based harm or about conflict or wartime is devoid of complicating layers of intersectionality.
In this dichotomy they further explore the language and idea of “emasculation” by way of “feminization” and/or “homosexualization”, where anything that devotes from heterosexual masculinities and the hetero-patriarchal status quo is seen as less than. To this, they write, “even the language of these classifications can in many ways be seen as normalizing the underpinning assumption that femininities and homosexualities are automatically associated with vulnerability, victimization, and devaluation. Such dynamics and assumptions partly rely upon (implicit and explicit) misogyny, gender essentialism, and homophobia.”
Parallel to this, Schulz’s work on the “ethical loneliness” of male sexual violence survivors in Northern Uganda was powerful and harrowing. Not only do many victims of SVAMB not only face the trauma of sexual violence and harm, but also must endure such violence under the structural violence of heteropatriarchy, which in turn “inflicts additional harms of abandonment, neglect, and loneliness.” This ethical loneliness, though specific here to war, reminds me of many of the concepts explored in Frederick Joseph’s Patriarchy Blues and its exploration of how patriarchal norms are not only fundamentally harmful to women and girls, but also to men, creating toxic and harmful norms under which no human can truly flourish without being dehumanized themselves.
And the harm rarely (if ever) stops with the person experiencing the harm. El Jones’ look at the social “erasure” of the murders of Shanna Desmond, Aaliyah Desmond, and Brenda Desmond show that even when compassion and empathy for PTSD and the harm of patriarchal militarism are noted, they erase the experiences of those who are harmed by the person who has been harmed by these oppressive systems (including the double-erasure of Black women, Indigenous women or women of colour). The forces creating a vicious and reinforcing cycle, making it hard for all to exist in any kind of wholeness, but especially for Black women and Indigenous women who are left trying – first and fundamentally – to survive.
Question(s):
– How might a more expansive understanding of the “relationalities of gender” lead us into more effective understandings of and strategies to address a variety of gender-based violences, including VAWG, SVAMB, or violence against persons of diverse SOGIESC?
– Does the current language of progressive ideologies make it harder or easier to create safe spaces around ethical loneliness? If so, how can we remedy that?
I overheard a relative commenting about my divorce to my mother, shortly after it happened. “Divorce has become so common now. Marriage has become a joke,” she had said.
While her comment could have pierced through my heart at a time when my world was crashing down on me, it was my mother’s response to that woman that gave me strength.
“Because women now recognize their worth. They know they don’t have to stay with men who abuse, them or try to clip their wings. They can stand on their own feet and thrive,” my mother responded to the dumbfounded, nosy relative.
Reading El Jones piece, ‘Remember, You are a Lady,’ reminded me of this incident. That article was painful yet empowering in so many ways. But this quote is what stood out to me: “This is what our elders knew about survival, and what they taught us. They never dreamed of leaving marriages, whether there was infidelity, whether there was abuse, whether he disappeared.” All my life, this is what I had seen all around me. So, when I realized I was stuck in a marriage with a violent man towering over me, I knew my life was over. Thankfully, I got an escape, and that is perhaps, a story for another time.
This is why I love this course so much. And this is why it weighs heavily on me more than any other classes I am taking. Every week’s readings are not just insightful but they also give me a chance to untangle and make sense of the labyrinth of my own complex experiences too, as a woman and a survivor of domestic abuse. And perhaps someone who has been viewing the world through a one-dimensional lens, as this week’s readings on masculinity made me realise.
The stories of Shanna, Aaliyah and Brenda Desmond were something I was already all too familiar with. But it was Lionel Desmond’s story that made me question everything. Are we just casualties of violent individuals, or are we collectively ensnared by a system that fosters such violence? And when violence occurs, can it simply be dismissed as a manifestation of mental illness?
According to the CBC article, PTSD is cited as a reason for Desmond’s actions. While it’s true that societal norms of toxic masculinity contribute to the cultivation of violence in men, the issue is more complex. Countless ‘ordinary’ men perpetrate violence in private. Maybe this is linked to the cultural restrictions on men expressing their emotions, suggesting a deeper systemic problem. Or maybe somewhere deep inside, the parts of me that have been maimed by men, refuse to find justifications for their actions.
I have so much to say about this but I don’t know how to say it or if any of this even makes sense. Maybe I am mixing very different things together or maybe all of it is interconnected.
That being said, patriarchy not only oppresses women but also harms men, trapping them in cycles of violence. The issue of sexual violence against men is largely ignored, leaving many silent for fear of undermining their masculinity. The neglect of men and individuals with diverse sexual orientations is a significant concern, as noted by Henri Myrttinen and Philipp Schulz, as well as R. Charli Carpenter.
A key insight from the readings was the notion of “masculinity nostalgia,” where male survivors of GBV seek to return to traditional masculine roles and patriarchal structures. While it is understandable that it is a response to trauma and a desire for normalcy, this longing potentially undermines efforts towards gender equality and the dismantling of patriarchal systems.
And I may be getting all my thoughts and concepts tangled up, but after the readings, I have only one conclusion: as a society, we must confront the uncomfortable truth that our own structures and norms may be responsible for cultivating violence among men. This violence is a self-destructive force that extends its harm beyond the individual, affecting all gender identities. We are faced with the urgent task of dismantling this destructive cycle that we have, perhaps unwittingly, perpetuated.
Question:
– How can we balance the need to address violence perpetrated by men with the necessity of understanding the societal pressures they face?
– How can we reconcile the need for justice for survivors of domestic abuse with the understanding of the systemic issues that may contribute to an abuser’s behaviour?
This is a topic I have been looking forward to. I suppose for various reasons. For one, in the context of life in Pakistan, men and women alike contribute to toxic ideal of what masculinity ought or ought not be. Over time I learned masculinity is not a fixed concept and it does not need to be defined by dominance and control. Growing up it has been alien to see men cry or express emotions other than anger and disappointment expect with other men. Even our women, I must admit are by and large guilty of vaporizing hyper masculine traits thus perpetuating harmful stereotypes that hurt the women and girls around such men and also the young boys pushed to embrace such attitudes and demeanours.
Growing up in Pakistan, societal norms often dictate rigid gender roles, where boys are taught from a young age that showing vulnerability or expressing emotions is a sign of weakness. Boys are told not to cry, as it may invite ridicule or mockery from people. This ingrained expectation perpetuates the notion that men should be stoic/emotionless and unyielding in the face of pain or hardship. As a result, boys and men internalize these beliefs, suppress their emotions and suffering in silence to conform to societal expectations of masculinity. I remember a particular conversation I had with my little brother many years ago when I advised him not to cry in front of others, warning him that people would laugh at him if he did in an attempt to comfort him. I told him we can’t always trust people with our feelings and now I often think of what harm I must have caused. I wonder how strongly they actually believe these?
More recently, Aaron Bushnell, a US airforce officer, only 25, who set himself on fire in front of the Israeli embassy in Washington is unfortunately another victim it appears of the profound despair and desperation men and boys experience in response to pressures with no outlet until it all comes too fast. His suffering is being downplayed by the media. Carpenter’s reading talks about ethical loneliness they experience as survivors. I also think of Schulz’s work and how male survivors albeit in that case of sexual assault are silenced or referred to as mentally ill as in the case of Aaron Bushnell, a low blow. The voices of men suffering I firmly believe need to be used to challenge dominant narratives and foster healing.
Masculinity is also multidimensional. It comprises of complexities of masculinity, violence, and power dynamics such as shown through the portrayal of Palestinian men in the media. Palestinian men often find themselves marginalized and dehumanized, their lives reduced to mere statistics. In places like Palestine, the idea of being a strong and dominant man is highly valued, especially in conflict situations where militarized masculinity is glorified. However, for many Palestinian men, achieving this idealized version of masculinity is nearly impossible due to the systemic oppression, violence, and displacement they face here in the West. Why does hegemonic masculinity take on a distinct character in the context of Palestinian/Muslim men?
I met a loved one this reading week shortly after having learned of how she was pushed into a marriage as she wanted a partner when she was only barely of legal age then subjected to domestic abuse, whereas men in the family have no difficulty having girlfriends which is normalized. It upsets me to see how my life turned out and how hers has, when she was so much more pious and gentle than I was at her age. It is disheartening to witness how women are often denied agency over their lives and decisions, while men are afforded freedoms and opportunities without question. My circle was the last place I expected such a draconian decision to be made.
Societal conditioning can lead men to feel compelled to assert control over their partners and families, resorting to abusive behaviors to maintain their sense of power and authority as best explained in the El Jones article. The normalization of abuse and silence within relationships speaks to a broader cultural acceptance of toxic masculinity, where expressions of vulnerability or emotional distress are dismissed as passing thoughts. I know the big ones but I wonder what subtle yet pervasive societal messages contribute to the perpetuation of toxic masculinity?
This week’s readings highlighted the critical human security issue of gender-based violence.
It underscored that gender-based violence is not confined to a single gender. The readings illuminated for me the harsh reality that men and boys are also vulnerable to the horrors of gender-based violence, and in the context of the readings in conflict zones. This challenged my preconceptions and made me reflect on how societal norms can perpetuate harmful behaviours and attitudes.
During an interview for the Gp2 project, one of the interviewees from Global Affairs made a profound point: gender advisors need not be limited to women; men have a crucial role to play in challenging gender norms and dismantling structures of violence. This resonated deeply with me, highlighting the importance of collective action in addressing this pervasive issue.
The Carpenter reading allowed me to consider masculinity and its intersection with forced conscription. It allowed me to reckon with the ways in which societal expectations can strip away autonomy and humanity that can perpetuate cycles of violence. The readings underscore gender-violence within mass atrocities and the mechanisms by which gender inequalities endure and are perpetuated across different contexts and structures. Carpenter also addresses the lack of comprehensive data on sexual crimes further underscored the challenges in addressing gender-based violence effectively. Without accurate data, it’s often difficult to fully comprehend the extent of the problem and implement targeted interventions.
The Schulz et al. reading challenged me to broaden my perspective on gender, urging me to embrace a more inclusive understanding that transcends binary frameworks. The readings this week also alluded to the prevalence of intimate partner violence that is an issue that persists. The story of the Desmond family served as a stark reminder of the urgent need for action to prevent such tragedies in the future. It left me grappling with questions about the role of gender stereotypes in fueling violence and the importance of creating stigma-free support systems for survivors. This societal expectation, ingrained from a young age, may lead men to believe that showing emotions goes against traditional notions of masculinity. Consequently, many men internalize these beliefs, feeling pressured to adhere to these norms and consequently refrain from sharing their feelings or seeking support when necessary. The readings also got me wondering how we can decrease the bureaucratic hurdles to ensure that individuals get accessible support when needed.
It is interesting to read the El Jones article, who notes the media coverage overwhelmingly focused on Lionel Desmond and the reasons behind his actions. Conversely, there has been minimal attention given to Shanna Desmond—her identity, life, achievements, and challenges. This made me think of the #SayHerName campaign, aiming to spotlight the often-overlooked reality that Black men are not the sole victims of police violence at disproportionately high rates. This campaign shines a light on the frequently overlooked names and narratives of Black women and girls who have suffered from racialized police violence. Overall, this week’s readings prompted helped me reflect on the urgent need for a more inclusive approach to understanding gender dynamics in conflict and security.