Ending SA’s rape culture needs deep investment
• Changing the way women are viewed and providing support for abuse victims will not happen by magic
Over the past few weeks, Harvey Weinstein has become the face of sexual predation, taking up the mantle from Bill Cosby.
It is difficult to ignore the fact that Weinstein’s conduct has become a “global” story because those who are speaking out are seen as glamorous.
The violation of any woman is horrible, but in the eyes of media houses, sexual offences against white women and women deemed to be “beautiful” are especially horrid.
When a beautiful woman is killed, the media cannot seem to shake the horror.
We saw this in media coverage of the murder of Reeva Steenkamp and we see it in the frenzy of reporting about the actresses Weinstein bullied, harassed and assaulted.
If a woman’s worth is linked to her looks in life, in death this is even more the case.
In the wake of the murder of Karabo Mokoena earlier in 2017, Police Minister Fikile Mbalula implied that part of the tragedy of her death was that she was “such a beautiful yellowbone”.
There is, of course, no relationship between sexual violence and a woman’s looks.
Yet the persistence of naked and unsubtle sexism in South African public discourse is an indicator of the pervasiveness of the uphill battle women in this country face when it comes to claiming their most basic rights to dignity.
It is no accident that South African lesbians have been murdered at an alarming rate in the last decade, nor is it coincidental that SA has among the highest rates of rape and femicide in the world. SA is a deeply unequal society and that inequality is not simply on the basis of race, but starkly on the basis of gender.
SA’s democratic state has failed to provide the protections women expected after the end of apartheid. If 98 men were anally raped every single day for a year, a national state of crisis would be proclaimed.
Yet, as the recently released crime statistics for 2016-17 indicate, this is exactly how many women report rape in this country on a daily basis. The actual figure is almost certainly much higher, given how few survivors bother reporting to the police — and still there is no action to tackle the situation.
Because those whose bodies are violated are women, and because we live in a society in which violence against women is normalised, the government continues to simply report on rape — as the police minister does year after year — without doing much to stop it. Men who rape, and the culture that creates them, face few (if any) consequences for their behaviour.
The state is not alone in abrogating its responsibility. Social formations including churches, community-based organisations and the private sector, have failed to invest the energy and resources necessary for creating a society in which women are safe from sexual violence.
The state does not bear sole responsibility for tackling this problem. While about R8bn is available annually to support corporate social responsibility, the majority of these funds are channelled towards basic education projects.
Corporates are plugging a hole the government should be funding. They should not, in principle, be supporting the education sector and discharging the basic functions of the state. Yet they are – in part because so many corporates lack creativity and have been afraid to take bold new directions, even where there are pressing needs.
Funding for school children is crucial, but funding for preventing gender-based violence and supporting its survivors and victims is crucial and virtually nonexistent. Those who grouse about what the government is doing or who think President Jacob Zuma is not committed to women’s rights have a responsibility to act differently.
The failure of state agencies and private sector companies to put rands and cents on the table is telling. A society that respects women does not just magically appear. Such a society can only be created through deliberate activities and sustained funding for social programmes.
For years, activists have tried to open channels to discuss these matters with the Department of Women. The results have been abysmal. So we find ourselves in the regrettable situation in which we have some of the highest statistics for violence against women in the world and yet we do not have a national strategic plan aimed at preventing and tackling it.
SA is known around the world for having a dynamic civil society. This is one of the positive legacies of the United Democratic Front and the internal structures that fought against apartheid at community level.
We are also respected in many places for our work in the HIV sector. In the past decade, SA has managed to roll out the largest and farthest-reaching AIDS programme in the world.
When politicians finally agreed to a National Strategic Plan on AIDS in 2005, the results were evident almost immediately. HIV transmission rates fell and access to antiretroviral treatment expanded.
In addition, because funding from the government and private sources became reliable and consistent, community organisations were able to carry out their activities without worrying about keeping the lights on. Their efforts were more focused and more successful.
Organisations working to prevent violence and to support survivors of sexual abuse have had no such injection of support and so their work is piecemeal. They are doing the best they can under difficult circumstances.
Many who work in shelters are subjected to threats and abuse from men seeking to abduct their partners. Many who offer counselling services are burnt out because their clients are often killed or they disappear because their partners have scared them out of accessing services. The work is gruelling and often thankless.
Worse, there are very few organisations whose efforts are focused on preventing the violence and trauma, on changing the normative behaviour that makes it acceptable for politicians to make sexist jokes or to abuse women while remaining in their positions for unacceptably long periods of time, as was the case with former deputy minister for higher education and training Mduduzi Manana.
The real test for all South Africans – not only women or activists – is what happens three months from now, when Jennifer Ferguson and Danny Jordaan’s names are no longer on our lips.
After we have read and debated Redi Tlhabi’s excellent book and wrung our hands about Weinstein all the way in the US, will we still be prepared to tolerate the fact that our Department of Social Services is run by a minister who is best known for her incompetence rather than for her work to support women’s rights?
Why is it acceptable that the women’s minister appears totally uninterested in supporting women?
Real change — the kind that will make SA a genuine democracy in which we can all participate — will only come if the state and the private sector, churches and nongovernment organisations invest in changing the very fabric of our society.
We can end rape culture if we invest in ending it.
There is no shortage of funds in our unequal society – there is only a shortage of commitment. We have remarkable people and incredible mobilisation skills and many wealthy citizens of all colours and political affiliations.
These talents and assets must be brought to bear to resource a coherent and longterm strategy that will make SA safe for women and girls. Without money and time — and, most importantly, a national plan of action — South African women will drown in the crocodile tears of people who profess to care, but whose actions demonstrate the opposite to be true.
IF 98 MEN WERE ANALLY RAPED EVERY DAY FOR A YEAR, A NATIONAL STATE OF CRISIS WOULD BE PROCLAIMED
Msimang is the author of Always Another Country: a memoir of exile and home. She has worked on issues of gender equality for over 20 years.