Does the death penalty afford meaningful redress in rape cases?

Tackling rape requires change, not retribution. Why the death penalty doesn't help rape victims.

Hundreds of women, young and old, continue to protest across India in silent marches, demanding justice for the 23-year-old who lost her life after being brutally assaulted and gang-raped in Delhi. Her brother has publicly called for the execution of those responsible, declaring “We want all the accused hanged, and we will fight for that, till the end.” Since the attack, hundreds of new articles have been written, both to heighten awareness about the pervasiveness of rape in India and to encourage legal reform to increase the number of prosecutions and convictions: many including government officials and victims are calling for the death penalty or chemical castration as punishment for sexual assault.

The collective outcry that this horrific case has provoked parallels that roused by a similar case in Pakistan: on 22 June 2002, Mukhtar Mai was gang-raped in her remote village by four men from a rival tribe. The involvement of the international media and human rights groups expedited the usually slow process of prosecution by encouraging the case to be tried through Pakistan’s anti-terrorism court: by 1 September, six men had been convicted and sentenced to death. In March 2005, before the sentence could be carried out, the Lahore High Court overturned the convictions of five of the men, and commuted the sixth’s sentence to life imprisonment, citing insufficient evidence and faulty investigation. In 2011, the Supreme Court (Special Shariat Branch) acquitted four of the men, also citing lack of evidence, despite the fact that many villagers had witnessed the assault.

Mukhtar has campaigned tirelessly for her rapists’ arrest. She continues to express anger towards her attackers and a desire for vengeance: “I could hire men to kill my attackers. How does one survive dishonour? How does one overcome despair? With anger, at first, with an instinct for revenge that resists the tempting solution of death, an instinct that allows one to recover, go forward, act.” Yet neither the death penalty nor chemical castration offers an answer to the problem of violence against women and girls. Indeed, in India these forms of retribution might well encourage perpetrators to silence victims and witnesses through murder or intimidation, worsening the situation for victims.

The nature of the penalties for rape and other forms of violence against women is not the core issue. The focus of debate should be on the fact that prosecution, let alone conviction, is rare and so penalties of any sort are rarely enforced. Many Indian women feel they have little or no recourse against violence and rape as legal action is not pursued in most cases. Indeed, marital rape still cannot be prosecuted as a stand-alone law in India, showing that the sanctity of marriage is still prioritised over preventing violence against women. Thus, at the root of India’s inability to deal with violence against women is the fact that patriarchal values that subordinate women to men are endemic in every aspect of society.

The problem is compounded in rural areas; for instance, upper caste men regularly use the gang rape of Dalit women for political purposes, often with impunity. In the rare cases when perpetrators are convicted in India, victims must still face the enormous challenges of surviving in a patriarchal society where they are considered to have been dishonoured by the crimes committed against them. This dishonour has major implications for marriage and even casual contact with other members of Indian society. For this reason, most victims remain silent about sexual violence.

Feminist groups in India argue that about 96 per cent of female victims are sexually assaulted by people known to them. Seeking legal redress under these circumstances often means being shunned not only by one’s family but also the wider community. Moreover, when assailants are in a position of power, as in Mukhtar’s case, influence is often exerted to prevent the registration, let alone investigation, of complaints.

India is at a crucial point in developing effective responses to violence against women. Feminists have made numerous submissions to the Justice Verma Committee about the urgent need for change. The committee has urged the public in general and particularly eminent jurists, legal professionals, NGOs, women’s groups and civil society to share “their views, knowledge and experience suggesting possible amendments in the criminal and other relevant laws to provide for quicker investigation, prosecution and trial, as also enhanced punishment for criminals accused of committing sexual assault of an extreme nature against women.” Awareness-raising is a start, but it is not enough. If change is to be meaningful – for victims and for wider society – it must address both the spectrum of violence against women and girls and the need for coordinated educational and legal reforms backed by coherent policy.

There is cause for hope. Recently, Indian rapper Honey Singh’s misogynistic lyrics glorifying rape were challenged through public protests. However, as Mukhtar’s case shows, without strong international pressure and public outcry, justice often has little chance to prevail in patriarchal societies where violence against women and girls is common: when the pressure ceases, the situation reverts to the status quo. The solution is to ensure that both domestic and international pressure to address violence against women and girls is on-going. Only wide-ranging, meaningful change – in Pakistan, India, and beyond – will ensure that redress is available to all victims. However, to be truly effective redress must ensure that it is perpetrators, and not victims, who are shamed and punished by society.

We must look beyond the natural human desire for retributive justice if we are to seek comprehensive solutions that provide a true and lasting legacy of change, development and, ultimately, the eradication of gender-based violence.

Dr Aisha K Gill is a Reader in Criminology at University of Roehampton

Mukhtar Mai and her son in 2011. She has campaigned tirelessly for her rapists’ arrest. Photograph: Getty Images

Dr Aisha K Gill is a Reader in Criminology at University of Roehampton.

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No, Donald Trump isn't starting World War Three in North Korea

The US president is living up to his promise to be "unpredictable". But is he using war as a sales pitch? 

“I plan on not dying,” Ian McCulloch of Echo and the Bunnymen told Spin magazine in 2008. “But if I have to, I want to die in Liverpool.” And so it was that nine years later, when war in the Asia-Pacific region suddenly seemed plausible, perhaps even likely, the musician pulled out of a solo show in Tokyo that was scheduled for 14 April and, according to Japan Today, left the country without even informing the event’s organisers. “We apologise for this significant inconvenience,” they later tweeted to ticketholders, blaming “news of an armed conflict between the US and North Korea” for the abrupt cancellation.

McCulloch isn’t the only one spooked by the heightened tensions between the two countries. Japan, America’s most strategically valuable ally in east Asia, lies within striking distance of Pyongyang’s weapons – military hardware that North Korea’s deputy foreign minister, Han Song-Ryol, recently insisted would continue to be tested “on a weekly, monthly and yearly basis”. On 8 April, three days before the North’s Supreme People’s Assembly was scheduled to convene, the 333-metre-long US aircraft carrier Carl Vinson left its home port of San Diego, accompanied by missile destroyers and a cruiser. The American president declared that he was sending an “armada” to the troublesome peninsula. If this was intended as a deterrence, however, North Korea was not deterred, and it fired a test missile from an eastern port on 16 April. The experiment ended in failure: the weapon exploded almost immediately after launch. Yet the message was clear. Don’t mess.

So the Korean War, which began in June 1950 but was never formally concluded with a peace treaty, has seemingly reached a crisis of a magnitude not felt since the armistice of 1953. Kim In-ryong, North Korea’s deputy UN ambassador, has accused the US of creating “a dangerous situation in which a thermonuclear war may break out at any moment”. If that’s true, McCulloch did well to take the first plane out of the area.

Such an apocalyptic scenario, however, remains unlikely to play out. It would serve no one’s interests, least of all North Korea’s, since the country could be wiped out almost immediately. Donald Trump demonstrated as much when he deployed the “mother of all bombs” – the Moab, the largest conventional explosive that the US has ever used in combat – on Isis bunkers in Afghanistan on 13 April. Perhaps more concerning to other heads of state than the damage done by the weapon was the apparent irrationality of the strike: Isis’s presence in the country is limited in comparison to that of the Taliban, and such an attack was unlikely to lead to any long-term resolution of the various crises there.

The US president, in effect, was signalling that he could match foes such as Kim Jong-un in terms of unpredictability – something that he had already underscored on 6 April with his surprise strike on a Syrian government airbase. It was a showbiz gesture.

On the campaign trail in January last year, Trump was asked whether he would consider bombing Iran’s nuclear facilities. “I’m gonna do what’s right,” he said. “I want to be unpredictable.” Since his inauguration, he has stuck to the latter part of that plan, from his on-again-off-again flirtation with Putin to his recent reversal on Chinese currency manipulation. Trump, it seems, is a president who wants to keep both enemies and allies on their toes. It’s a deal-making mentality – the sensibility of a salesman, not of a statesman. And it’s a dangerous one when applied to the global stage, where trust between nations is essential for any meaningful diplomacy.

If Trump is applying his “art of the deal” to America’s recent international ventures, it’s worth asking what the deal – or deals – in question might be. North Korea has long been a proxy for other problems in east Asia. The winding down of its nuclear weapons programme for its own sake looks, to me, unlikely to be the president’s principal objective (the US had a chance to pursue this in 1994 when it signed the Agreed Framework with North Korea, but political enthusiasm for it cooled almost before the ink had dried). But for a Third World War, even a thermonuclear one, to be put on the table as a potential reality, surely the stakes must be high?

I have my doubts. Trump’s foreign policy seems nowhere near as coherent or developed as, say, that of Barack Obama (imperfect though his doctrine of “patience” turned out to be). America’s recent actions have seemed opportunistic, rather than strategic. Brinkmanship from either side won't achieve anything, as both are reluctant to make concessions. So what could the US be up to?

Maybe the supposedly impending nuclear apocalypse is, at least in part, a ruse to sell stuff. Among the policy areas closest to Trump’s heart during his presidential campaign was trade. Last month, Peter Navarro, the director of the White House’s national trade council, told the Wall Street Journal: “Any country we have a significant trade deficit with needs to work with us on a product-by-product and sector-by-sector level to reduce that deficit over a specified period of time… That can be achieved, if they buy more of our products than they now are buying from the rest of the world, whether it’s chemicals or corn or whether, from a national security perspective, it’s submarines or aircraft.”

The countries with the largest trade imbalances with the US are China, Japan and Germany. China denies that it is deliberately pursuing a surplus in its dealings with US (and, frankly, what could America do about it anyway?), while Germany’s trade relations are handled by the European Union and so are difficult for the US to reset on a nation-to-nation basis. But Japan – which the US vice-president, Mike Pence, visited on a trade tour this week – has a pliable leader in Prime Minister Shinzo Abe.

Abe, a nationalist by instinct who has long struggled to remilitarise Japan and has incrementally reinterpreted his country’s pacifist constitution to permit increased military engagement, signed a significant arms trade pact with the US last year. Resistance to his agenda has been vocal in Japan at every step. However, fears of a rising threat from North Korea would give him more wriggle room. A Japanese commission is considering the potential benefits of deploying the US Terminal High Altitude Area Defense (THAAD) system on its territory. This system will soon be in use in South Korea – much to the annoyance of China, which suspects that it would be capable of tracking and countering its nuclear programme.

Trump’s insistence that trade imbalances be remedied is unrealistic in many sectors, not least in the auto sector, since Japan already allows US cars into its market tariff-free and they still don’t sell. Upping trade and collaboration in arms, however, would help Abe appease Trump while getting closer to fulfilling his own goal of a militarily robust Japan. The threat of war could also allow him to establish a more active role for the nation’s “self-defence forces”. The US president, meanwhile, would have succeeded in getting one of America’s supposed “free-rider” allies to contribute something closer to what he deems its fair share, while strengthening his hand against the real adversary: Beijing.

While US arms dealers are doubtless readying their wares for sale, war with North Korea will probably be averted by pressure from China, without whose oil, airports, trade and access to financial markets the rogue nation could not function. (Some 80 per cent of North Korean exports and imports are with China.) From this perspective, the recent tensions between the US and North Korea represent an admittedly melodramatic episode of the US “pivot” to the east, more than the beginning of the end of the world.

It’s an unstable stability, but stable enough to allow for shallow political game-playing – and I suspect Trump is gaming it (as the revelation that the Carl Vinson flotilla was 3,500 miles away from North Korea and heading the wrong way at the time of Trump’s “armada” threat suggests). So McCulloch needn’t have denied Japanese fans a rendition of “Killing Moon”. The bombs aren’t likely to fall yet.

Yo Zushi is a contributing writer for the New Statesman. His latest album, It Never Entered My Mind, is out now on Eidola Records and is on Spotify here.

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