First published in French on 26 May 2026
This article is exceptional for the robustness of its arguments and the strength of the testimonies on which it is based. The author analyses the mechanisms of community reintegration for women survivors of sexual violence in the eastern part of the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and questions the attitudes of the Demonstrating that male empathy is shaped by the norms of hegemonic masculinity, Sylvie Bashizi Nabintu proposes moving beyond the concept of toxic masculinity in order to dismantle the patriarchal structures that dominate the emotional landscape in post-conflict situations.
The eastern part of the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) is notorious for the persistent and devastating problem of sexual violence that has been rampant there for decades.[1]Care, «RDC. Les survivantes de violences sexuelles n’ont plus accès aux soins de santé», 16 November 2023, … Continue reading Marked by conflict, instability and the presence of numerous armed groups, the region is still plagued by systemic violence with far-reaching consequences for civilians, particularly women and girls.[2]Ibid. Sexual violence has been used there as a weapon of war to terrorise populations and destabilise communities, with women’s bodies becoming pawns in the power strategies of the various warring factions.
These abuses, perpetrated by armed groups as well as members of the security forces or civilians, are indicative of the breakdown of social norms and protection mechanisms.[3]Véronique Moufflet, «Le paradigme du viol comme arme de guerre à l’Est de la République démocratique du Congo», Afrique contemporaine, vol. 3, no. 227, 2008, pp. 119–133, … Continue reading In addition to immediate psychological and physical trauma, women survivors face profound stigmatisation and social exclusion that hinder their recovery.[4]World Health Organization, Health care for women subjected to intimate partner violence or sexual violence: a clinical handbook, 2014, https://www.who.int/publications/i/item/WHO-RHR-14.26 ; Zina … Continue reading Despite the efforts of international organisations to provide holistic support,[5]Panzi Foundation and Dr Denis Mukwege Foundation, “Handbook: holistic care for survivors of sexual violence in conflict”, 2019, … Continue reading reintegration into the community remains precarious because of deep-rooted gender inequality and entrenched stereotypes.[6]International Federation for Human Rights, “DRC. Victims of sexual violence rarely obtain justice and never receive reparation. Major changes needed to fight impunity,” Report, 2013
To understand these barriers, academic literature has often stressed the need to take the links between sexual violence and masculinity seriously.[7]Ailbhe Smyth, «Résistance féministe à la violence masculine contre les femmes. Quelles perspectives?», Nouvelles questions féministes, 2002, vol. 21, no. 2, pp. 76–92, … Continue reading This work has shown how certain aspects of hegemonic or toxic masculinity contribute to a culture of aggression.[8]Michel Minder, Champs d’action pédagogique. Une encyclopédie des domaines de l’éducation, De Boeck, 2008 (2nd ed.). Ingrid Plivard, Mini manuel de psychologie sociale, Dunod, 2022 (2nd … Continue reading Even though this research has quite rightly analysed how masculinity facilitates the act of rape, it has paid less attention to how this same masculinity shapes the behaviour and attitudes of the male community in the aftermath of the tragic event. The literature has focused on educating men in order to change their “predatory” behaviour,[9]Étienne Krotky, Former l’homme. L’éducation selon Comenius, 1592–1670, Publications de la Sorbonne, 1997. while neglecting to analyse the outrage and empathy of close relatives (fathers, husbands, brothers). A key question therefore emerges: how does masculinity shape men’s perceptions of and empathy towards women and girls who have been raped?
My field research, involving interviews conducted in Mashi and Swahili in the Kaniola (Walungu Territory) and Luhago (Nindja territory) groupings, shows that the outrage felt by close relatives is inextricably linked to gender-based social relations. When these men express outrage, it is often from a patriarchal perspective: the loss of a girl’s “marriageable value”, an affront to the husband’s honour, or the tarnishing of the family name. These sentiments admittedly reflect real suffering in the face of social breakdown, but they also reveal what I call the “empathy of possession”. Focused on violated honour and the wounded male ego, this form of empathy paradoxically ends up taking precedence over the victims’ own feelings, hindering their agency and recovery. From a post-structuralist perspective, this empathy is part of a normative discourse which exerts harmful forms of power on women survivors.
To address this issue, this article argues that these forms of empathy do not necessarily stem from violent socialisation but from discursive practices rooted in patriarchal settings.[10]Yvan Turcotte, «L’empathie des pères incestueux et des mères non abuseures : impact de la présence d’une histoire d’abus sexuel au cours de leur enfance», Thesis, Université … Continue reading Taking an inductive approach based on thirty interviews, this study invites us to revisit the concept of male toxicity, not just in terms of the perpetration of violence, but in terms of the domination of the emotional space by those around us. Building on the work of bell hooks, I advocate for a shift towards “feminine empathy” or “feminist empathy” – a type of empathy capable of recognising the survivor as an autonomous individual and not as devalued property.
To illustrate this point, this article is divided into three parts: a review of current research on the links between sexual violence, masculinity and empathy; an analysis of the case study showing how male outrage reinforces patriarchal categories to the detriment of women’s feelings; and, finally, a theoretical reflection drawing on the work of bell hooks to develop the concept of feminine empathy as a tool of liberation.
Sexual violence, hegemonic masculinity and the challenges of empathy
The links between sexual violence and masculinity occupy a central place in contemporary social sciences. Long considered indirect, these links suggest that certain aspects of what is known as “toxic masculinity” actively contribute to the emergence of a culture in which sexual violence is not only more likely to occur, but also less likely to be addressed as effectively as it should be.[11]Marc Le Pape, “Male Rape. Masculinities and Armed Conflicts”, Cahiers d’études africaines, no. 209–210, 2013, pp. 201–215, https://journals.openedition.org/etudesafricaines/17290 This literature highlights the role of cultural and social norms in the production of traditional models of masculinity centred on domination, control and aggression. In some men, these sociological vectors feed a sense of “entitlement” and power over the bodies of women and girls, thus normalising unequal power dynamics within the sexual sphere.[12]Delphine Dulong, Erik Neveu and Christine Guionnet (eds.), Boys don’t cry! Les coûts de la domination masculine, Presses universitaires de Rennes, 2019.
The normalisation of these affects stems from a process of socialisation in which boys are taught to assert their domination as proof of their manhood. This mechanism makes the process of obtaining consent a complex matter, and in turn generates a structural lack of empathy towards victims.[13]Véronique Rouyer, Yoan Mieyaa and Alexis Le Blanc, «Socialisation de genre et construction des identités sexuées. Contextes sociétal et scientifique, acquis de la recherche et implications … Continue reading In this context, the act of violence is no longer perceived only as an expression of sexual desire but as a form of power aimed at reaffirming control over the other person.[14]Gabriel Moser, Psychologie environnementale. Les relations homme-environnement, De Boeck, 2009. In a society where male domination is a well-established norm, rape functions as a means of consolidating a faltering or contested power dynamic.[15]Randall Collins, Violence: A Micro-sociological Theory, Princeton University Press, 2009.
Masculinity is then analysed as a social construct, encompassing a set of attributes and roles that vary over time and cultural contexts.[16]Michael S. Kimmel, Manhood in America: a Cultural History, Oxford University Press, 2006 (2nd ed.). It promotes idealised behaviour such as strength and independence, whilst systematically excluding characteristics deemed “feminine”.[17]Christiane Vandenplas-Holper, Éducation et développement social de l’enfant, PUF, 1987. To explore this analysis in greater depth, it is essential to consider the concept of “hegemonic masculinity” as it allows us to grasp how certain forms of masculinity are favoured over marginalised or subordinate models.[18]Demetrakis Z. Demetriou, “Connell’s Concept of Hegemonic Masculinity: A Critique”, Theory and Society, 30, 3, June 2001, p. 337-361. … Continue reading As Raewyn Connell suggests,[19]Raewyn Connell, Masculinities, Polity, 1995. this hegemony is not a biological given, but a negotiated construct upheld by social institutions, which establishes toughness and aggressiveness as dominant models.
To understand the effectiveness of this construct it must be considered in relation to the theory of performativity, inspired by the work of Judith Butler.[20]Notably Judith Butler, Gender Trouble. Feminism and the Subversion of Identity, Routledge, 1990. Masculinity is not an inherent trait possessed by the individual but a continuous staging, a “doing” reiterated by gestures, language and daily rituals.[21]Mcdowell, Linda. (2005). “Spaces of masculinity: The men and the boys at work.” Geographie et Cultures. 103-120. In fact, the literature stresses the urgent need to deconstruct this negative performativity in order to promote more inclusive gender identities.[22]International Action Network on small arms, “Ways to address hegemonic masculinity and gun violence”, IANSA Briefing Paper, 14 February 2022, … Continue reading This presupposes not only education about consent, but also the creation of spaces where male vulnerability ceases to be a taboo.[23]Health Communication and USAID, «Intégration du genre dans la communication pour le changement social et comportemental», 2016, … Continue reading
These analyses, however, still overlook one thing: it is often argued that unlearning violence is enough to transform masculinity. Yet, as cultural critic bell hooks points out in a seminal work,[24]bell hooks, The Will to Change: Men, Masculinity, and Love, Atria Books, 2004. toxic masculinity is not limited to the perpetration of violent acts: it also generates feelings that are seemingly “benevolent” but deeply rooted in a patriarchal and masculine structure. By exploring the links between gender, class and oppression, bell hooks demonstrates that patriarchy emotionally damages men by imposing rigid roles that cut them off from genuine intimacy.
With this in mind, hooks offers a radical critique of traditional notions of manhood, and argues for a more . This perspective allows us to take a critical look at the outrage expressed by the fathers, husbands and brothers of victims in the DRC. Even though these men may feel moved, their compassion often remains “selfish” because it is filtered by their own interests as symbolic owners of a woman’s body. By following bell hooks, we can imagine healthier forms of empathy, forms which are no longer the reaction of a wounded ego, but an authentic recognition of other people.
Case study: rape as a tool for social deconstruction in South Kivu
The recent history of the Democratic Republic of the Congo is marked by the shock waves of the 1994 genocide of the Tutsis in Rwanda. The presence of Interahamwe militia in the refugee camps of eastern Zaire triggered the wars of 1996 and 1998, radically disrupting social structures that were already fragile.[25]Filip Reyntjens, «L’araignée dans la toile. Le Rwanda au cœur des conflits des Grands Lacs», Hérodote, vol. 4, no. 179, 2020, pp. 73–90, … Continue reading In South Kivu province, women’s bodies became a battlefield: executions, sexual slavery and public rape were used to destroy the fabric of the community.[26]Réseau des Femmes pour un Développement Associatif, Réseau des Femmes pour la Défense des Droits et la Paix, and International Alert: Women’s bodies as a battleground: sexual violence … Continue reading
My aim is to understand how the male family members – fathers, husbands and brothers – are affected by these crimes. Through an inductive approach based on thirty interviews, I shall now analyse the discourse underpinning their empathy.
Violence, actors and the economy of dishonour
The region has suffered systematic impoverishment combined with sexual terror. Starting with the rebellions of 1996 and 1998, the economy of Kaniola and Nindja has been devastated by the looting of livestock by the Rwandan and Ugandan militaries. After 2002, the so-called “FDLR” [Democratic Forces for the Liberation of Rwanda] and “Rasta” groups instituted a new form of warfare specifically targeting women in their place of work, such as the Mugaba forest. Night raids aimed to smash family intimacy, with rapes often committed in front of relatives to maximise humiliation. A village chief, aged 35 to 45, testified to this horror:
“During the war, my father was the village chief and I remember that not one day went by without at least three or four houses in my village being visited, and in the morning we had to go to the chief to report the incident. It was really sad because all that came out of it was desolation; they kidnapped my daughters, my father was tortured so much that he can’t even get up to come here, they looted my precious possessions (minerals), they took my cows, they killed my brother, they raped my wife, there were six of them and they all raped my sister. They raped my wife in a public place, in front of everyone in a chain, they raped my mother in front of the family’s children, they kidnapped my wife – she came back a few months later pregnant – they sodomised my neighbour’s boy, and my neighbour went back to her abusers in the bush of her own free will.” (Luhago, January 2024).[27]Semi-structured interview conducted in Mashi and Swahili. It was translated into French by the author in order to retain, as accurately as possible, the semantic nuances associated with the … Continue reading
This testimony illustrates the collapse of protection mechanisms. The difficulty of documenting these acts lies in the silence imposed by the fear of reprisals and the negative perception of victims within their community: to be a “proper woman”, a woman must be a virgin, or reserved exclusively for her husband.[28]Joelle Kabile, “Why don’t they leave?” Barriers to leaving an abusive relationship” Pouvoirs dans la Caraïbe, no. 17, 2012, pp. 161–198, https://journals.openedition.org/plc/867 A church leader explained the scale of the phenomenon:
“We have recorded a very large number of women who have been raped here. We can even say that almost every family has been visited at least once. When it comes to rape, women are dishonoured regardless of their age or state of health. Wives, lovers, fiancées, girlfriends, sisters, half-sisters, cousins, mothers, grandmothers, stepmothers, neighbours and even a few men.” (Kaniola, January 2024).
Male feelings and hegemonic empathy
In the face of this despair, rape generates a constant sense of insecurity and powerlessness in men.[29]Guy Trastour, «Violence latente et sentiment d’insécurité. Cliniques urbaines», Chimères, vol. 1, no. 85, 2015, pp. 85–94, https://shs.cairn.info/revue-chimeres-2015-1-page-85?lang=fr The interviews conducted reveal a whole range of feelings: hatred, regret, malice, refusal to take the wife back, or acceptance because of financial gain. The chief of a sub-village explained this complex situation:
“With a heavy heart, I would like to tell you about what happened in my village after the rape. With regard to the men, we sensed that they felt hatred for the Rwandans and regret at seeing their pride wounded. Distraught because they no longer knew which saint to pray to, they cursed Rwanda and its sons. They felt a deep sense of sorrow at seeing little girls deflowered, a situation that led some of them to become polygamous or categorically refuse to take their wives back. Others stayed in a relationship out of a sense of obligation to the family or the church, while some agreed to get back together for financial gain. With regard to the women, some who were admitted to rehabilitation centres returned to their families with a little money for their socio-economic reintegration. Among the other victims, some are disillusioned with marriage, some abandon the family, some come to terms with themselves, some accept one another and get together, and some even choose to remain single for the rest of their lives. Others marry but do not have children, or put their trust in traditional practices to purify themselves, or become mentally disturbed, (acts of fornication).” (Kaniola, January 2024).
These remarks confirm that male empathy is often expressed through notions of exclusive ownership and sullied honour. Rape is experienced as a “murder of love” or “spoliation”. In this respect, the testimony of a husband from Kaniola is crucial:
“I was a newlywed husband, I got married on 3 July 2010. On 10 July – so a week after my marriage – the Hutus came to my house around 7pm. They took all my basic necessities, my wife was taken from me and led into the bush. They killed my son (from a previous relationship) in front of my very eyes by shooting four bullets into his chest, leaving me in extreme poverty, with frequent seizures and in poor health. A month later, the other women who had been taken with mine returned to the village. They told me that mine had refused to be raped, so they killed her. I still remember that moment to this day. A year later, my family arranged for me to find a new partner, and I already have seven children. I often get angry for no reason. I become short-tempered. I curse the Rwandans, the Hutus. I lose control. I want to be alone, but after a while, I pull myself together and life goes on. Meanwhile, my little family suffers. I even have a boy who, when he is really angry, curses Rwanda, yet he wasn’t even born at the time of these atrocities.” (Kaniola, January 2024).
Between idealisation and abandonment: the burden of the male point of view
Sometimes, male empathy is also expressed as an idealisation of the victim before the act, making the harsh reality of rape even more brutal for the victim’s close circle. The following testimony shows how the dreams of social success projected onto girls can be shattered, transforming the affection of this father, who raised his daughters alone, into a feeling of inner death:
“I fed my daughters what I milked myself from the cow every morning, they grew up and I nicknamed them Igera, which means ‘pearl’, because they were so pretty. I never remarried, but I worked hard to make sure my daughters had everything they needed, and luckily my mother was always there for us all. On their sixteenth birthday, I nicknamed them again: murima alika, which means ‘my heart is at home’. Wherever my daughters were, they were there, and I used to say that my daughters were going to marry the ministers of this country to , and that I too might marry again. War arrived, I was in the mining area of Kamituga, the I came and raped my old mother and my two daughters in public. I think this was the day I was meant to die, because I could never accept that this could happen whilst I was still alive. My dream vanished and my nightmare began.” (Kaniola, January 2024).[30]The term Igera (pearl) and the expression murima alika (my heart is at home) are common terms of affection in rural South Kivu. Here, they emphasise the father’s narcissistic interest in the social … Continue reading
In other instances, the man’s inability to overcome the visual and social shock of rape makes him run away or abandon the woman, especially when she becomes pregnant. A man in his 40s said:
“At the time, I was courting a girl from my neighbourhood, we were already engaged and I was friends with her brother. She had been raped in the yard in front of all her family and a few other neighbours; it was a huge shock for me too, one that I couldn’t get over. I didn’t leave right away, I stayed to reassure her and all her family during this difficult time, but every time I pulled myself together, I felt that I couldn’t continue with this relationship. It was a difficult time in my life, and I ended up leaving her a few months later when her brother came to tell me that his sister was pregnant.” (Nindja, January 2024).
Women’s voices: bearing the trauma of others
In contrast to these male narratives, women witness a reality in which they have to deal not only with their own trauma, but also that of their husbands, who sometimes perceive them as guilty parties or a burden. During my research in Nindja in January 2024, I heard the following:[31]These interviews were conducted individually at the respondents’ place of work (market, fields). This context of speaking “on the move” explains the brevity and striking power of the comments … Continue reading
“I am the wife of a husband whose first wife was raped in his presence and didn’t survive. They had two children and I also have two children with this man. I bear the burden of this man’s trauma, and sometimes he treats me badly as if I were to blame for her death or even the one who raped his late wife. If only the mother of those children had survived, I would have given up and let her take up the fight. Sometimes I look at his children and think ‘if they were mine…’ One day God Himself will pay me for my sacrifices.” Albertine (35–40 years old).[32]In accordance with the ethical principles governing research in sensitive environments, all the names cited in this article have been changed. Participants were informed of the academic use of their … Continue reading
“I got married after the rape, but my husband forced me to leave the child born of the rape behind. We’re a good couple, but I would like to have had my child with me. Now I have to work hard to send money to my mother every month.” Collette (30–40 years old).
In other situations, a complete reversal occurs, giving the impression that it is the man who is the victim rather than the woman who has been raped. In some cases, the mothers whose daughters have been raped are deemed by their husbands to be responsible for the rape. Mapendo, from Kaniola, whose age varies between 55 and 60, testified to this complex situation and the radical decision of her daughter:
“…I wasn’t raped, but my daughter was. When she was engaged, she was raped, and when she came back, her husband was told about it by a member of the church community, and they got married. Immediately after the rape, she was placed in the Cité de la joie rehabilitation centre. Six months later, she knew how to sew and received a $100 reintegration grant. One day, while we were asleep, the Interahamwe entered the village, raped me and took my daughter into the bush. After three months, she managed to escape but came back pregnant, although there were still no signs of the pregnancy. Relatives and other people came to the house to comfort her, and she said that she was upset by this situation, that she would have preferred to keep a low profile. Given our vulnerable state, we barely had anything to eat, so she had to go out and help me work in the fields. She was so troubled that even on her way home, she’d bump into her friends but would send them on their way and looked at them with a mocking expression. She couldn’t bear seeing the other girls laugh without thinking it was her they were laughing at. One day, she left a letter asking her mother to forgive her for reacting like that, but she had to leave because where she had been held she was the wife of a colonel, she was well treated, had more than enough to eat, could choose her own clothes and at least her child would have a father and would want for nothing. She loves me and will never forget me.” (Kaniola, January 2024).[33]The Cité de la joie [City of Joy] mentioned by the interviewee is a well-known rehabilitation centre in Bukavu. The girl’s decision to return to her abuser highlights the failure of community … Continue reading
This field study shows that while the men in these communities suffer from genuine trauma and a feeling of helplessness, their outrage remains inextricably linked to specific ways of viewing women. Shaped by forms of hegemonic masculinity, these expressions of empathy tend to ignore the feelings of the women survivors themselves. In this regard, the example of Mapendo’s daughter is striking: faced with community and family empathy that “upsets” her and stigmatises her, she prefers to return to her abuser to regain a sense of material dignity and protection that the local patriarchal framework – now broken – could no longer offer her.
From the empathy of possession to feminine empathy
The literature on caring for women survivors of sexual violence in the DRC highlights many persistent obstacles: stigmatisation, social rejection, health consequences (sexually transmitted infections, unwanted pregnancies) and economic precariousness.[34]World Health Organization, Health care for women subjected to intimate partner violence …, op. cit. Even though holistic approaches advocate a transformation of social norms,[35]United Nations, International Day for the Elimination of Sexual Violence in Conflict, 19 June, https://www.un.org/en/observances/end-sexual-violence-in-conflict-day" target="_blank" rel="noopener">https://www.un.org/en/observances/end-sexual-violence-in-conflict-day this article has sought to demonstrate that one key obstacle is still to be overcome: the nature of the empathy shown by men who live around women survivors.
My fieldwork in Kaniola and Nindja shows that, although genuine, the outrage expressed by fathers, husbands and brothers is part of the discursive practices that rekindle patriarchal domination. By perceiving rape as a spoliation of their own honour or “property”, these men practice what I have called the “empathy of possession”.
It is here that the writings of bell hooks offer a crucial insight; hooks reminds us that patriarchy socialises men so that they suppress their emotions in favour of control. This kind of socialisation not only produces “predators” but also hinders the ability of men to establish a genuine rapport with the suffering of others. The hegemonic empathy we have observed is the product of this “emotional amputation”: the man is moved by his own loss (his honour, his lineage) rather than by the pain of the woman.
I therefore advocate for the emergence of “feminine empathy” or “feminist empathy”. Inspired by hooks, this approach does not seek to appropriate trauma in order to turn it into a lever of male-centric revenge. It requires men to embrace their vulnerability and emotional intelligence so that they can finally consider the feelings of others as their top priority.
This process of change, however, cannot ignore the class variables that shape masculinity in the eastern part of the DRC. Female solidarity is still the main driver of this struggle for gender justice. It is the women who, first and foremost, challenge patriarchal structures and demand empathy that liberates rather than possesses. Looking to the future, we must think in terms of masculine alliances that are capable of dismantling these systems of oppression which, as bell hooks points out, harm both women and the humanity of men themselves.
For further information, and to learn more about the author’s approach and work, please see Sylvie Bashizi Nabintu, «Maternité et guerre : quand la veille devient posture épistémique», Governance in Conflict, 14 January 2026, https://www.gicnetwork.be/maternite-et-guerre-quand-la-veille-devient-posture-epistemique. Note the following sentence in particular: “…women are not merely figures of care or courage. They are the theorists of everyday life. They think whilst walking, shopping, keeping watch. They generate knowledge in the margins and the silences.”
Picture credit: Lamine Keita/MSF
