

In a recent op-ed, Sylviane Agacinski rightly wrote that the trial of the rapes on Gisèle Pelitcot while she was drugged is not the trial of "men," and that not every man is a potential rapist. I'd be happy to agree with that conclusion if her entire demonstration didn't aim to describe this trial by dismissing #MeToo, as if to, in a way, go back to "before" this vast social movement. On the contrary, I believe that we can only understand this trial's major social issue, and particularly what it reveals about the persistence of a culture of everyday machismo, by setting it within the context of #MeToo, for which it represents a major step forward.
Hélène Devynck, journalist: "The defense is a chemically pure sample of patriarchal violence"
Noémie Renard, essayist: "The trial shows the extent to which sexual violence is integrated in our society"
Camille Froidevaux-Metterie, philosopher: "Yes, all men are guilty, guilty of remaining indifferent"
Nathalie Heinich, sociologist: 'No, not all women think all men are guilty!'
Sylviane Agacinski, philosopher: 'Rape is not a result of masculinity but of its perversion'
Katie Ebner-Landy, historian: 'The Pelicot case fractures our sense of reality: We do not know who to trust, we cannot be sure of anyone's identity'
Irène Théry, sociologist: 'Opportunity-based rape is at the heart of the social issue at stake in the French rape trial'
One sentence [from Agacinski's article] is central to the debate: "Blaming 'masculinity' in this case diverts attention from the real problem of unspeakable sexual violence, associating it with the murky waters of non-consensual sex, which can sometimes be difficult to prove, such as marital rape." If we understand correctly, on the one hand, there would be cases of real, terrible rape, and, on the other, a whole range of questionable relationships, in which the absence of consent would not be enough to be characterized as rape. To make a connection between the two would be something that "diverts attention." Yet we all know that it is precisely by venturing into the "murky waters of non-consensual sex" and rapes that are "difficult to prove" – those so long relegated to the shadowy recesses of private life – and by enabling hundreds of thousands of victims to brave their shame and dare to speak out, that #MeToo made it possible to reveal a whole mass of hidden acts of sexual violence for all to see.
The discrepancy becomes clearer when we discover that her presentation of the trial focuses solely on Dominique Pelicot, "the main defendant." Not a word about the 50 others, who have been totally erased from the discussion. A surprising choice, given that the current debate about this trial in society does not focus on the husband, who everyone readily acknowledges committed exceptionally serious crimes, but on his 50 co-defendants. Over the past month, a whole debate about them has been developing, one focusing on social and sexual relations, toxic masculinity, and the mechanisms and denials of rape.
The hidden mass of sexual violence
Here, once again, we come back to #MeToo. Seven years ago, a new generation of feminists took over from the anti-rape movement of the 1980s, making a decisive step forward for the cause. Whereas we used to say "when a woman says no, it means no," #MeToo has advanced our collective awareness on two major fronts. Firstly, by showing that by far the most frequent form of rape is not rape committed by a stranger in a dark forest (as in the famous 1978 Aix trial, which led to a new legal definition of rape), but what can be called "mutual recognition rape," committed by a person known to the victim, which has led to a broad discussion about male behavior in general. Not all men are rapists, but rapists are ordinary men, in the sense that they are your fathers, your brothers, your husbands, your priests, your bosses, your colleagues, your sports coaches and so on.
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