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Title: Betrayal
Author: Words to Fire Press
Language: en
Topics: rape, accountability, rape culture, sexual assault, abuse, interpersonal violence, consent
Source: Retrieved on 4.30.17 from https://libcom.org/library/betrayal-critical-analysis-rape-culture-anarchist-subcultures

Words to Fire Press

Betrayal

Disclaimer:

We’re fucking sick of disclaimers. We resent having to provide apologies

and justifications for our words before we even speak them. We’re bitter

about how specialized discussions of rape, sexual assault, and abuse

have become. We feel insulted and embarrassed that we have to constantly

point out that we aren’t speaking on behalf of all survivors, as though

that were even possible. Sure, we appreciate a well placed trigger

warning. It’s just good etiquette. But when fanatical attempts to avoid

triggering each other serve as tools to relegate discussions of

interpersonal violence to the margins, to wrap the issue in a neat

little box which is only brought out on special occasions, when an

illusion of “safety” can be guaranteed, well
then we start to get

pissed. If we only speak of our oppression from the position of safety,

we’ll be forever silent. If we can’t learn to work through being

triggered amongst friends and comrades, we’ll be ill equipped to work

through it in their absence. An atmosphere of nervousness permeates the

discussion, and we confer to the advice of specialists partly out of

fear of saying the wrong thing. But all we’re talking about are our own

experiences, a topic on which we are all experts. So we long for the day

when we won’t need to place ourselves under disclaimers, or any other

banner for that matter.

But at the same time we recognize that we’re not there yet. These topics

are still so charged, and the support available still so sparse, that

our words hold the tremendous potential to do harm. So in the meantime

we must take care when we speak, so as to not become inadvertent allies

of the forces we mean to oppose. With that in mind, we offer a few

clarifications before we begin


Some of the authors of this piece are survivors, others are reflecting

on their own role as people who have been abusive in the past, but they

all share a commitment to the struggle against a Culture of Rape. When

we say “we”, we are not referring to “survivors”, or even to the

authors, but to everyone who agrees with the statement made, and perhaps

more broadly, to everyone who sees themselves a part of this struggle.

There are surely survivors whose experiences will seemingly contradict

the arguments made here. But of course the examples cited throughout

this text are not meant to be exhaustive or all encompassing. We do not

see our own experiences as exemplary of the experiences of all

survivors, or even most survivors. They do, however, provide examples of

how Rape Culture has materialized in our own lives, a point we thought

worth sharing.

We would be rightly criticized for focusing so heavily on the anarchist

milieu, which of course most survivors will not identify with. But we

saw little use in trying to extend ourselves beyond our own experiences

in the hopes of becoming more “relevant”. It is also our hope that an

anarchist analysis of both Power and struggle provide a useful framework

for deconstructing the functioning of Rape Culture, and could perhaps

provide insight even to those who are unfamiliar with the anarchist

subculture. It is our belief that the dynamics we described will be

echoed in other milieus as well.

Our gentle reader will also notice that we have chosen to use gender

neutral language throughout. Of course the majority of survivors are

women or people who don’t conform to patriarchal gender identities,

whereas the majority of perpetrators are cis gendered men. The

neutrality of our language obscures the systemic nature of not only

this, but also the way that interpersonal violence has consistently been

a tool of colonial invasion, imperialist occupation, and the maintenance

of white supremacy. It obscures the way in which organizing against

interpersonal violence has historically been co-opted by white

middleclass feminists, leaving women of colour, poor women, queer and

trans folk with less access to support resources. It was not our

intention to depoliticize the nature of interpersonal violence with

language that is gender neutral (certainly, when it comes to gender, we

are not neutral!). But having said that, we also wanted to recognize

that people of all identities, from all walks of life, can be both

survivors or perpetrators, or even both at the same time. We didn’t want

those whose experiences don’t fit neatly into oppressive binaries to

find themselves even further marginalized here.

Finally, we offer a few definitions, not so that we can dictate how

these words must be used, but so that it can be understood how their use

was intended here:

Rape Culture — A culture which seeks to excuse, condone, normalize and

encourage interpersonal violence.

Interpersonal Violence — A catch all term commonly used to describe

different forms of violence which are inflicted on an interpersonal

basis, yet have their roots in expansive systems of power. Rape, sexual

assault, sexual harassment, as well as sexual, physical and emotional

abuse within relationships are all examples of interpersonal violence.

Survivor — A person who has experienced or is experiencing interpersonal

violence, as defined by the survivor themselves.

Perpetrator — A person who has inflicted interpersonal violence onto

another person or persons, as defined by the survivor(s).

Survivor Autonomy — The theoretical foundation upon which most radical

support work is based. Survivor Autonomy is the concept that a survivor

should be given the power and autonomy to decide for themselves how to

deal with their own trauma, and that the role of supporters is to

empower and encourage this autonomy. This stands in contrast to other

approaches which do not see the survivor as having the best

understanding of their own needs or recognize each survivors needs as

truly unique and different, but instead seek to impose the “proper” way

to heal upon them.

Apologist — Those who, through action or inaction, seek to uphold either

the power of a perpetrator(s) and/or the disempowerment of a

survivor(s), thus reproducing Rape Culture.

Accountability process — A process through which a perpetrator attempts

to be accountable to the people they’ve hurt, and engages in self

reflection with the ultimate goal of making long term changes in

behaviour.

It would seem that throughout the anarchist milieu, wherever you turn,

there is a community being ravaged by rape, by sexual assault, and by

abuse. These cycles are neither new nor unique to anarchists. At first

glance it seems surprising that our communities find themselves at least

as vulnerable as any other to interpersonal violence. After all, don’t

we begin from the starting point of opposition to domination, without

which interpersonal violence could not exist? And yet, the one thing

that ties these communities together, a supposed shared politics or

political analysis, is often the weakest point in anarchist responses to

interpersonal violence. Despite being a community which is explicitly

political in nature, anarchists often depoliticize interpersonal

violence and divorce it from its roots in systemic power. For instance,

the need for good consent practices becomes confused with the belief

that informing people about consent will transform our communities, as

though rape were the result of ignorance and misinformation, rather than

deeply entrenched structures of power. Strategies that anarchists have

adopted, such as the accountability process, more often than not fail to

address the interpersonal violence in our midst.

The apparent failure of the accountability process to transform our

communities is usually viewed outside the context of that failure,

without examining the broader social forces that contributed to it. This

oversight is a result of the accountability process and also a precursor

to it. The accountability process narrows our focus; it both confronts

us with expansive systems of power while reassuring us that dealing with

individual instances will deconstruct them. We speak of patriarchy,

colonialism, heterosexism, but we deal only with a perpetrator. In our

casual conversations, we agree “power concedes nothing without the

threat of force”, yet our attempts at accountability usually take the

form of moral suasion, relying on liberal-bourgeois notions of choice.

As if our choices were more than a calculated reaction to the material

conditions we find ourselves in. Of course a perpetrator chooses to

pursue or reject accountability, but what makes this choice possible?

What conditions fostered their feelings of entitlement over another

person? It is these conditions that, when viewed from the terrain of

struggle, must be recognized as what they are: enemy territory. It is

from this realization that we attempt to launch our attack.

The insistence that interpersonal violence is perpetuated by more than

just the actual perpetrators is not meant to shift accountability away

from those perpetrators. On the contrary, it’s a recognition of the many

factors that entitle them to sidestep accountability. Just as the

suburban yuppie requires a vast and complex social system to mask the

negative consequences of their destructive lifestyle, a perpetrator who

refuses accountability is often enabled by a similar social network.

Such networks aren’t only comprised of those who explicitly defend a

perpetrator, but of all those who ensure the balance of power remains

tipped in their favour. What this looks like in practical terms will

vary. Silencing, repression, recuperation, or most often combinations of

several of these methods are used against survivors and their struggle.

The defining factor will always be what most effectively reproduces Rape

Culture.

SILENCING THE STRUGGLE

“In the end, it won’t be the words of our enemies we remember, but the

silence of our friends.”

The term “silencing” has been popularized in our communities, but only

with a limited definition. Calling a survivor a liar, conjuring their

sexual experiences, deviancies, or style of dress to shift blame, or

otherwise insinuating that they were “asking for it”, are all behaviours

most anarchists would frown on, though they rarely bother confronting

them. This hypocrisy hints at a larger problem, revealed by a closer

look at our conception of what is “silencing”. The aforementioned

examples only apply to the survivor who has called out their

perpetrator, or else talked openly about their experiences. But of

course many survivors never get even this far.

So what silences them? Is it the other members of their affinity group,

who maintain a false separation between the struggle against the state

and the struggle against other systems of Power (especially the ones

they benefit from)? Is it the roommates who never acknowledge fucked up

dynamics for fear of “triggering” someone, as if an offer of support

would be more triggering than total isolation? Is it the other show

goers who write off the struggle as petty, too personal, or mere

“drama,” as if a survivor who struggles against their oppression is

being dramatic? Is it the fellow collective member who regrets that they

are “not in the place” to offer support, while still being in the place

to hang out with a perpetrator on a regular basis? Is it the

acquaintance who claims to be in no position to confront a perpetrator

because they are not even friends, or is it the acquaintance who claims

the same because they are? Is it the people who organized that event,

the ones who say they know nothing about the situation, while doing

everything in their power to make sure they never do? Is it the band

mate who claims they can see “both sides”, or eschews sides altogether,

as if this wasn’t a fucking war? We’ve even seen rape apologists turn

survivor autonomy on its head, claiming that they’d received no explicit

instructions from a survivor, so of course they had no choice but to

carry on a completely uncritical friendship with their attacker! Perhaps

it is not the silence of survivors, but of those around them, which is

truly revealing. With no one to say otherwise, a survivor can only

assume that they will be given the same treatment as every other

survivor before them.

If we broaden our definition of what is “silencing” to mean everything

that works to maintain silence, then we aren’t merely defining a few

grossly insensitive remarks. Instead, what we’ve implicated is the

totality of our culture.

So what then, of accountability? Abuse, assault, a total lack of

accountability; all are business as usual in the world as we know it.

But normalcy is more effectively maintained through the complacency of

masses than through the brutality of their masters. While violence

provides the foundation upon which Rape Culture reproduces itself, it

also poses certain risks; that it’s shared experience can create bonds

of solidarity, that lines of conflict will be drawn more clearly, that

people will fight back. The process of normalization seeks to undermine

these risks by making violence invisible. The obvious apologists, the

goons who say “slut” like it’s a bad thing and think the perpetrator is

the victim, don’t do nearly as much to further normalization as their

more subtle accomplices, the ones who maintain complete silence on the

subject. These more sophisticated apologists share space with the

perpetrator; they march alongside them at demonstrations and dance

alongside them at parties, without ever uttering even a single word

about interpersonal violence. When forced to speak on the subject, they

sigh and say “it’s complicated
” They may even claim to be disgusted by

the violence, though mostly they’re sad that you had to disrupt their

event to confront it. They lament, “If only I had known!”, while keeping

their heads planted purposefully in the sand.

UNLEASHING REPRESSION

This conspiracy of silence seeks not only to end a survivors struggle

before it even begins, but also to provide the back drop for what will

happen to the few survivors who refuse to be muzzled. For a survivor to

speak openly of their experiences in such a climate can only be

understood as an act of resistance, and as with all acts of resistance,

repression is a likely outcome. This repression is more nuanced than the

clubs of police officers or the guns of soldiers, though these too have

been turned on survivors. The repressive forces are more likely to be

mentally and emotionally devastating. The agents of such repression are

not familiar to us through uniforms or badges, but as our supposed

comrades and former friends. Many of us are accustomed to seeing only

the police in this repressive role[1], and of course they have their

part to play in the reproduction of Rape Culture as well. But in our own

radical communities, the state’s role in this reproduction seems

downplayed. After all, there’s little point in the state expending the

resources while so many self-described anarchists are willing to do the

job for free.

Those who doubt the brutality of this internal repressive apparatus have

likely never been on the receiving end. The “communities” that are so

often turned to with the expectation of support are more often mobilized

against the survivors on behalf of their perpetrators in a stunning

counter attack. It’s difficult to properly illustrate what so many

survivors have had to endure at the hands of their supposed anarchist

comrades. To call it a smear campaign hardly does it justice. Of course

speaking generally will never fully encompass all the complexities of a

person’s experiences, but there are many patterns we can identify within

the anarchist milieu, all of which faithfully reproduce the patterns of

the broader culture.

One glaring example is the character assassination of the survivor. No

aspect of their life is spared from scrutiny, all in search of any

detail that can be used against them. These details, whether genuine or

fabricated when necessary, are often used towards invalidating their

experiences of violence and valorizing the perpetrator. Few will be so

clumsy as to blatantly accuse a survivor of lying, though there are more

self described anarchists willing to do this than even we care to admit.

Instead, most will utilize any number of slight variations as a way of

saying the same thing. Perhaps a survivor gave no clue of abuse as they

endured it, perhaps they consented to certain sexual activity but not

all of it, perhaps they felt the need to disclose certain experiences

and withhold others, perhaps they needed time to process their trauma

and only revealed it gradually, perhaps they have their own issues with

power or boundaries. We could go on, but of course what’s important is

not the details themselves, but how they can be twisted, taken out of

context, or else used to undermine a survivors credibility. Past

histories, addictions, coping mechanisms, debts, insecurities, even a

survivor’s political identity, all are fair game[2]. When this strategy

is successful, survivors are villainized and their attackers are recast

as the victims of lies and manipulation. But even if the apparent

objective of discrediting a survivor in the eyes of community fails, the

process itself can still be effective at forcing survivors out of that

community. Knowing that simply walking into an anarchist space means

that nearly everyone there has discussed your personal life at length

creates a tremendous barrier, regardless of the conclusions people may

have reached. Survivors may feel compelled to pre-empt this dynamic by

engaging their critics. Often, this plays into demands for “proof” or

details of assaults or abuse. The retraumatizing aspect of this is yet

another further attack on the survivor, and often feeds rather than

undermines the conflict.

As tensions grow, it begins to spill over into new arenas. Previously

uninvolved parties who may not even know the survivor or perpetrator

become caught up in the mounting bedlam, and organizing becomes

disrupted. Of course, at this point normalization has been broken, and

the repressive apparatus no longer has anything to lose by not holding

back. Anarchists who would otherwise scorn the politics of liberals now

turn to their ideology for reinforcement. “These divisions are hurting

us!” they cry. Of course, such divisions are never blamed on the

perpetrator or their actions, but on the survivor for insisting that the

trauma they’ve experienced cannot go unanswered. They are blamed for

tearing the community apart and ultimately for undermining “the

struggle”. The importance of this last point cannot be overemphasized.

The previous dismissals of the broader community, which hinted that “the

struggle” merely excludes survivors and their needs, are now clarified

to reveal that in fact these struggles are diametrically opposed. To be

perfectly clear, anarchists who feel their struggle is undermined by a

survivor are in fact engaged in a struggle against survivors, they are

active defenders of a Culture of Rape. They will often liken the

survivor’s struggle to a “witch hunt”, when they themselves share more

in common with the executioners than with those who burn at the stake.

As mentioned earlier, if a survivor can be silenced, and their

experiences normalized into a culture of Rape, repression will become

redundant. It follows that the lack of such outright repression, when

paired with a lack of support for survivors and a lack of accountability

for perpetrators, is not indicative of an absence of Rape Culture, but

the opposite; it reveals a Culture of Rape that is totally ingrained,

like an occupation that has become so entrenched as to render the tanks

and soldiers unnecessary.

IF YOU CAN’T BEAT ‘EM

As alluded to earlier, these repressive measures can actually split the

ranks of the more moderate rape apologists, undermining the common front

against the survivor. At the same time, repressive measures are deemed

necessary at the very least when the usual process of normalisation is

broken. This points to one of the biggest contradictions within Rape

Culture: that the very violence it relies on to reproduce itself also

reveals its true nature for all to see. This contradiction is resolved

by recuperative forces within radical communities which seek to co-opt

support for survivors and redirect it against them. Many will claim to

support a survivor while actually undermining their autonomy. This is

usually done by limiting the possible scope of a survivor’s response to

exclude anything that might further upset the social peace. These false

supporters work to uphold the image of a supportive community, and in

the process prevent any truly critical engagement with community. Their

tools are the language and organizing frameworks which were forged by

survivors and their supporters, appropriated for the purpose of

disempowerment and twisted to usurp the survivors’ struggle.

Initially, the creation of words and new frameworks to use them was

necessary, as the language for survivors to even talk about their

experiences did not exist. Unfortunately, words are easily recuperated,

and we can now see the inevitable limitations of relying on them so

heavily. Once upon a time, radicals championed the use of the word

“perpetrator” as an attempt to sidestep the stigma of harsher words. The

once prevalent framework of Restorative Justice emphasised a person‘s

ability to change. “Rapist” or “abuser” hardly underlined these values,

and many felt it kept the rapists and abusers locked in those roles,

just as referring to survivors as “victims” potentially kept them locked

in a moment of subjugation rather than underlying their strength and

perseverance. Of course now we are faced with a new wave of

anti-violence activists, who lament the stigmatized nature of the word

perpetrator, and now advocate the even more watered down term “person

who causes harm”. Perhaps it’s time to realize that if a perpetrators

capacity to change is not broadly recognized, that is a result of their

own actions more so than the words we use to describe them. This is not

to say that we should not choose our words strategically, or that we

should not use them with strong intention, but only that our apparent

obsession with language has serious drawbacks. At best, it leaves us

caught in a never ending loop to find the right words rather than

addressing our more meaningful shortcomings. At worst, it preserves the

power dynamics of Rape Culture by attributing fault to survivors and

their supporters rather than perpetrators and their apologists.

This bizarre reversal, where a perpetrators refusal of accountability is

viewed at least partially as a result of flaws in a survivor’s response,

is a common pattern seized upon by the recuperative forces of Rape

Culture. Zines and pamphlets list strategies towards accountability

which seek to avoid making a perpetrator defensive, which are perhaps

better understood as strategies towards accountability which seek to

accommodate a perpetrators defensiveness. The only thing such an

approach avoids is a recognition that being defensive is not something

forced on a person by others, but a reactionary response which must be

realized and worked through for any genuine accountability to be

possible. Many will use the term defensive without ever asking, “in

defence of what?”

Of course many survivors who anticipate defensiveness and the repressive

apparatus activated by it have made good use of such strategies in the

short term to initiate dialogue, or else to make demands concerning

immediate safety without the goal of transforming a perpetrator. We have

no interest in questioning the choices survivors make or discouraging

the dissemination of potentially useful strategies (because, of course,

how useful any given approach might be can only be decided by survivors

themselves). Our concern is when the accommodation of defensiveness or

the strategies implied by it become a tool of false supporters to limit

the possible choices available to survivors, or to criticize those

choices they disapprove of after a survivor has made them. Discussions

of how to call out a perpetrator rarely centre on the survivor’s needs.

“Avoiding defensiveness” provides the pretence to shift the discussion

back to the needs of the perpetrator. Once a perpetrator has been called

out, a similar framework is used to undermine support for a survivor.

The false supporters endlessly reassure us that they are not angry that

a perpetrator was called out, it’s only the way they were called out.

The fact that a survivor would speak openly about their experiences is

seemingly taken as more violent and controversial than the violence of

those experiences themselves, which warrant very little discussion by

comparison. How a survivor’s public response might reflect their needs

does not seem to occur to the false supporters as they are so

preoccupied with their need to preserve an artificial social peace.

Again we see liberal tendencies rearing their head, as the false

supporters’ insistence on denouncing the resistance of survivors, on

claiming to also despise the Culture of Rape while simultaneously

diminishing any fight against it, is reminiscent of liberals who claim

to agree with the grievances of protesters and yet condemn any actions

they might take to address them. The liberal complains that intensity

and ferocity sabotages the struggle, but of course the anarchist knows

the real problem is that we haven’t gone far enough.

As mentioned earlier, this is all part of a larger pattern to maintain

the power dynamics that Rape Culture relies upon. There are countless

other examples. The accountability process itself can be a double edged

sword. Radical communities often divorce the accountability process from

its place within the broader Restorative Justice framework, offering it

as the sole response to intimate violence while simultaneously avoiding

any further attempts at pre-empting violence before it happens. This

false support places the needs of the survivor secondary to the question

of how to deal with a perpetrator, once again prioritizing the needs of

the perpetrator and maintaining the pattern of domination. What little

support is offered survivors often replicates this same dynamic. One of

the most common models of support used, that of making demands of the

perpetrator[3], once again leaves all agency in the perpetrator’s hands,

especially when there is no contingency plan if the perpetrator should

refuse. Survivors who become emotionally invested in such models as a

path for healing are often devastated when the demands yield nothing, or

worse, when they incite a new barrage from the perpetrator and the

repressive forces. In the anarchist milieu, where it is widely

recognized that demands are mostly useless when not accompanied with the

threat of force, it is quite revealing that such models prevail.

In addition to its role in the wider context, the internal workings of

the accountability process itself have the potential to be hijacked and

used against a survivor. The concept of Survivor Autonomy, which once

formed the theoretical foundation of the accountability process, is

often discarded, transforming the process into a toothless form of

liberal conflict resolution. Without being informed by a clear analysis

of the power dynamics at work, of course the default power of the

perpetrator is upheld. The goal is still the rehabilitation of the

perpetrator, and most likely their continued participation in the

community, but the false supporters who have hijacked the accountability

process can now do so at the expense of the survivor, selfishly defining

the perpetrators “rehabilitation” in any way that is convenient for

them. In the most extreme cases, accountability processes will be

initiated against the explicit wishes of survivors, as an attempt to

legitimize the perpetrator in the eyes of others. The pretence of making

it a “community issue”[4] allows the false supporters to not only take

control out of the survivors hands, but also to portray survivors who

refuse to cooperate with their own disempowerment as a barrier to

accountability. The embarrassingly common farce of false supporters

informing a survivor that actually, their perpetrator has “worked on

their shit” stems from this or similar dynamics.

In less extreme cases, the survivor’s participation will be permitted

but only so long as it falls within parameters set by their false

supporters. Reprisals against a perpetrator, physical or otherwise, are

completely off limits. Even questions of immediate safety, such as

sharing space with a perpetrator, are subject to the discretion of false

supporters. Again we see radical language turned against survivors, as

their demands for space within their community are twisted by false

supporters and likened to the prison system (for not making

rehabilitation the only goal, or “punishing” a perpetrator) or openly

referred to as an attempt to “banish” the perpetrator.

Of course the insincerity of these concerns are revealed as they provide

the pretext to banish the survivor from the community instead.

The perpetrator’s role in the hijacked accountability process[5] also

reproduces their power. In some cases they are allowed to make demands

of the survivor or else place criteria on their own participation.

Perpetrators, or their apologists, all too commonly respond to being

called out by making defensive “callouts” of their own. As discussed

earlier, they will accuse the survivor of any wrongdoing they can think

of, or else make some up when actual misdeeds are not forthcoming.

Rather than recognize these pathetic attempts at slander as the

manipulative transgressions they are, the false supporters usually join

the perpetrator in absurd calls for “accountability” from the

survivor[6]. From this newfound position of righteousness, and with the

complicity of the false supporters, the perpetrator is free to alter the

very character of the accountability process. What began as a callout

becomes more like a negotiation, as a perpetrator’s cooperation becomes

contingent on the survivor addressing their concerns. Perhaps some of

these concerns might even be valid, but of course what’s important is

not their validity but their role in undermining the survivor’s

struggle. The survivor must now earn not only the accountability they

get from the perpetrator, but also the support they get from the

community. Those survivors who are unwilling or unable to jump through

all the hoops will be written off. In a final perversion of the

accountability process, the survivor will be the one blamed for its

failure, the one who was unwilling to “work things out”. By this point

the so-called “Restorative Justice” framework has been so distorted that

it succeeds only in “restoring” the power dynamics of a Rape Culture

which had been otherwise compromised by the survivors’ struggle.

BAD APPLES

In radical communities especially, apologists will not always rally

behind a perpetrator. In certain cases the contradiction of doing so

would be so blatant that even their own self image as “anarchists” would

not survive it. Once again, liberal ideology comes to the rescue. Just

as apologists for police brutality will insist that it results only from

a “few bad apples” as a plea to avoid any structural analysis of the

police or their role in society, the Rape apologist will attempt to

scapegoat the individual perpetrator, sacrificing them to the altar of

Rape Culture. They may reference their own disgust with a perpetrator,

or brag that they no longer talk to them, as though these things were

proof of how “supportive” they are. Of course, disapproval of a

perpetrator’s actions does not automatically equal support of a

survivor. In some instances vilifying the perpetrator will contradict

the survivor’s wishes, while in others the perpetrator and survivor can

be ostracized simultaneously, as the repressive apparatus carries on the

patterns of domination in the perpetrators absence[7]. The mere

ostracization of perpetrators as the only response has been heavily

critiqued elsewhere, but we’d like to emphasize that such an approach

serves to protect Rape Culture by avoiding direct confrontations with

it. In doing so, apologists can externalize the negative aspects of Rape

Culture as something separate from themselves. By projecting everything

onto a lone perpetrator (or perhaps all perpetrators) the apologist can

deflect any analysis of the social relations that produce perpetrators,

especially their own role. By singling out a few bad apples, they

distract from the fact that the whole bunch is rotten.

Of course this also avoids the whole question of support for a survivor,

and seeks a resolution (for example, getting rid of the perpetrator)

that does not address the needs of the survivor. This is revealing of

Rape Culture’s true priority, as scapegoating a few perpetrators will

still leave oppressive social structures intact, whereas survivors who

are able to struggle successfully against those structures threaten

their very foundation. The Culture of Rape values the perpetrator about

as much as any imperialist army values its foot soldiers. It will

happily sacrifice them if necessary, because of course it is the

subjugation of the survivors, their perpetual state of victimhood, which

must be maintained at all costs. Just as with Empire, it is only through

this subjugation that the Culture of Rape can reproduce itself.

WAGING WAR ON CULTURE

The functioning and reproduction of Rape Culture is too complex to be

fully explained or documented. The crude generalizations and caricatures

we’ve laid out here are too simple to faithfully recreate the dynamics

we experience in our daily lives. While we’ve tried to categorize and

define for the sake of clarity, to assign shape to oppressive structures

with the hope of making them recognizable, in reality most individuals

will oscillate between roles. Even those who at times may step outside

social confines to provide genuine support may in other instances serve

as Rape Culture’s most brutal shock troops. Even survivors themselves

can take on repressive roles towards each other, seduced by the prospect

of being one rung higher on the social hierarchy rather than offering

solidarity to their peers. People’s roles are not static and systems of

oppression are not congealed. The interplay between the silencing,

repressive and recuperative forces of Rape Culture is not

conspiratorial. These sometimes separate but always collaborative

elements do not meet to strategize or divvy up the tasks. But of course,

collaboration is not so contingent on actual associations as it is on a

shared interest. Those with shared interests will reach similar

conclusions or else work towards similar goals without ever having to

interact. Through this Rape Culture is revealed as being not merely a

vague concept, but the concrete material conditions which lead people to

conclude, consciously or not, that their interest lies in silencing a

survivor, in being complicit in their continued subjugation, or in

actively countering a survivors struggle.

The complaint that people “just do the easy thing” partially articulates

this problem, but also attributes it only to moments of moral weakness

amongst individuals. This sidesteps the more obvious question; why are

our radical communities still structured in such a way that supporting a

survivor is not “the easy thing”? What makes it difficult? A more

materialistic view of our responses to interpersonal violence, one that

looks not to someone’s politics or sense of decency, but instead to

material conditions such as their social dependencies (for example, who

are they close with, who do they live with, who do they organize with,

what are their support networks, what do they depend on and how would

these things be affected by genuinely supporting a survivor?) could

provide more insight into how our own interests are controlled and

shaped by a Culture of Rape.

Perhaps the most significant mitigating factor of these conditions is

Power. Both the power a survivor holds in the community as well as the

corresponding power of a perpetrator are key to shaping that community’s

response. When a perpetrator holds very little power in comparison to a

survivor, or when the perpetrator is not even part of the community, a

token show of support costs little and helps maintain the benevolent

veneer of Rape Culture. Of course, this is rarely the case. It has

commonly been urged that support of a survivor should not be hindered by

a perpetrator’s position of power in the community, but the position of

power itself receives little scrutiny, as does any possible correlation

between that position of power and interpersonal violence (which is

itself a brutal expression of power). The failure to establish this link

is like asking what came first, the chicken or the egg, and then

insisting that the chicken and the egg have nothing to do with each

other. This blind spot is especially curious amongst anarchists, who

claim to oppose all forms of hierarchical power.

It follows that a genuine analysis of the functioning of Rape Culture

must also include an analysis of the relationships of Power that govern

our lives. This implicates not only the hierarchies, formal or

otherwise, which persist even in anarchist spaces, but also the larger

systems of power which inform them, such as Patriarchy, White Supremacy,

Colonialism, Ableism and so on. We must acknowledge Rape Culture’s

rightful place within Capitalist society. Through this we can recognize

Rape Culture as a mechanism for social control, as it reinforces these

systems of Power and domination which in turn reproduce it as well. It

then becomes necessary to undermine the hierarchical divisions which

serve to both facilitate interpersonal violence itself as well as shape

the interests of those in a position to respond to it. Many anarchists

rightly reject the navel gazing of identity politics, but a sharp

analysis of systems of Power, the ways in which these systems offer

privilege to some of us, yet oppression to others, and the ways in which

our experiences of these systems of Power influence the ways we fight

against them, is crucial to genuine resistance. To successfully attack a

Culture of Rape, we must strike at the roots of this Power.

THE IMAGE OF COMMUNITY

Many anti-violence activists begin from the precarious presumption of

community; that a survivor has a social base they can turn to for

support, or else a support network that escapes the influence of the

Power we just discussed. Here community is defined rather nebulously or

not at all. Is your community a geographic space, such as the

neighbourhood you live in? Is it a shared identity or experience, such

as being queer or black? Is it the people you spend your time with, such

as your family, coworkers or friends? A community may be a combination

of all these things, yet none of these things point to an inherent

position of support.

What is often referred to as “the anarchist community” is perhaps more

accurately described as a youth subculture[8]. It’s transient and

temporal nature make it ill equipped for the long term project of

healing from trauma. Furthermore, both the reliance and the

reinforcement of Rape Culture by other systems of Power pose a

particular challenge to the predominantly white, middleclass and often

male dominated anarchist communities of North America. It’s not uncommon

for such communities to be so compromised by their own positions of

privilege that they end up far too subservient to various systems of

Power to risk any meaningful attack against them. In such cases, the

anarchist “community” is revealed not as a radical space from which to

attack, but as a reactionary body meant to squash these attacks. It is

“anarchist” and a “community” in image only.

Many anarchists do not even realize the importance and interconnections

between building community and attacking systems of oppression, and

those of us who do rarely make use of this realization beyond our

rhetoric. And, perhaps more to the point, we often make the mistake of

assuming that the targets of our “attack” only lie outside ourselves.

Here, attack is not understood as the near militaristic approach that

relies solely on the destruction of property and physical battles, a

position put forth by many anarchists. Rather, attack is the process

through which we recognize the forces which oppress us and seek to

destroy them. The question of violence, of what it will take to destroy

systems of Power, is largely out of our hands. Capitalism, with its

standing armies and myriads of prisons, has made its own position on the

matter perfectly clear. Those comrades amongst us who inevitably carry

the baggage of white supremacy, patriarchy, and colonialism, those who

find themselves in the position of the apologist, can hopefully exercise

a wider range of choice. They can choose to join with us. They can

choose, as we have, to attack those aspects of themselves which recreate

the old world, and to bolster the attack against those who choose

otherwise. It should be this choice that defines the anarchist, which

sets us apart from our enemies and guides us to our comrades. It is from

this choice that all genuine struggle becomes possible.

“Damaged people are dangerous. They know they can survive”

wordstofire@riseup.net

[1] Amongst most anarchists, at least, the police are a faceless enemy.

We don’t have to see them tuck their kids in at night, they don’t tell

us jokes over beers, they do not confront us with the contradiction of

their own humanity. This is not the case for those who are called out

for assault or abuse within anarchist circles, a reality which many

perpetrators use to their full advantage.

[2] This same process is often extended to a survivor’s support network

as well. In fact, focusing mainly on supporters sometimes allows the

agents of repression to continue posturing as being supportive of the

survivor, while at the same time sabotaging any genuine support. Such

thinly veiled attacks, though possibly devastating to supporters, must

still be understood primarily as attacks on the survivor, however

indirect. In worst case scenarios, such attacks result in a degenerated

conflict between the accomplices of Rape Culture and a support network,

once again leaving the survivor sidelined and disempowered.

[3] In some instances demands are made of the broader community as well,

often to the same effect.

[4] This is not to say that issues of intimate violence are not

community issues, but that a genuine community will seek to empower its

survivors and encourage their autonomy. Aspects of a community that find

their own interests in conflict with that of survivors are revealed to

not be part of an anarchist community at all, but of an enemy garrison

in our midst.

[5] Of course once hijacked it is no longer a process towards

accountability, and whatever words the false supporters use to describe

it, whether it’s a mediation, a conflict resolution, or a healing

circle, the result will not be accountability.

[6] Meanwhile, the repressive forces are not so conciliatory, and

instead use the defensive allegations solely to attack the survivor.

Perhaps this explains why so many survivors engage with the charade of

the false supporters, if only because they don’t seem so bad by

comparison.

[7] That being said, sometimes survivors will want their perpetrators

ostracized. This is both a valid and understandable response and should

be respected. There’s nothing mutually exclusive about analyzing power

systems and rejecting perpetrators.

[8] That is, if we are willing to describe it as it actually exists,

rather than defining it according to our fantasies.