Accountability, Transparency, Objectivity—and Victim Shaming

When the Epstein victims told their stories of sexual violence—publicly, forcefully, and with documentation—they were met with skepticism, character attacks, and efforts to rewrite their narratives. High-level officials, including President Trump, disparaged the survivors, calling their campaign for justice a “hoax.” Long before Epstein’s 2019 indictment, victims such as Maria Farmer reported her abuse and reported that authorities had ignored and failed to act on their allegations. Representatives for Epstein’s victims have suggested that politically driven decisions marginalized the survivors’ voices and reframed their stories to preserve the reputations of men and institutions who hold far more power than they do.  

Classic victim shaming?  Of course, and in its most familiar—and tedious—form, and it’s been used by patriarchal culture as a tool to maintain good governance for millennia. 

Millennia? Yes.

Take the story of Dinah, for example. As recorded in the Book of Genesis, twelve-year-old Dinah sets out by herself to watch some local women preparing for a special occasion. The powerful Canaanite ruler, Prince Shechem, spots her, rapes her, and rides off into the rest of the narrative to engage in high-level mediations about law and governance. But that’s about it for Dinah. She’s never given a voice—no woman in Genesis is—and after the prince sexually attacks her, she is only referred to as a utility to consolidate male power. 

But what is especially noteworthy about this telling is the use of the Hebrew word innah to represent the rape.  Beyond its literal meaning, innah conveys status degradation, a lowering of rank. In other words, Shechem’s act doesn’t just violate Dinah physically; it also marks her as socially compromised. After he rapes her, she becomes an outsider, a shamed and silenced less than—at least according to the socially and institutionally accepted ideological values and practices of masculinist culture. The smut’s all his, but the blameless target of his violence is tainted with the prince’s shame and dishonor. As later commentators noted, Dinah lived the rest of her life in a state of “corruption, a state of harlotry [translation: she was a sex worker, she called it on herself, she asked for it, she should have known better, and on and on and on…].” Once masculinist language cements her new status, things can get back to normal. Prince Shechem gallops off to form valuable political alliances; she disappears into degradation and silence.

*

Today’s victim-shaming operates no differently than in the past. Just as in ancient times, victim-shaming serves as a form of governance, governance by degradation. By discrediting and shaming the victim, casting her as unreliable, contaminated, or morally suspect—or totally ignoring her—the rape is no longer destabilizing. Governance, law, and reputation management can continue uninterrupted. 

In other words, victim-shaming is one of patriarchy’s management tools. It is embedded into its infrastructure through language, law, and social norms. Once the victim is marked as compromised, governance can proceed uninterrupted, reputations can be preserved, alliances maintained, authority secured, power restored and preserved.

Image source: Pixabay

Note to Readers: The strategic use of shame as a governing technology within patriarchal systems is examined in depth in Such’s Such a Liar: Incest, Power & Knowledge – Manifesto, where its role in producing silence, compliance, and epistemic control is more fully developed.