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Sexual violence frequently occurs in warfare. The focus here is on its perpetration
throughout history, beginning with ancient Greek, Roman and Israeli societies. Many
references to sexual violence in modern literature appear in studies on siege warfare.
Rape has also been discussed as a main topic. The current paper explores how violence is
described by ancient authors—Homer, Herodotus, Livy, Hebrew prophets and others—
and in which contexts it occurs. What contemporary attitudes to these actions are
conveyed by the sources? Did violations follow patterns as to how and when they were
executed or did they take place at random? Was individual, physical gratification the
sole motive? Ancient historiography and prose was researched and modern theories
applied for the purpose of interpreting cases in greater detail. This investigation showed
that ancient sources held multiple, often contradictory attitudes to sexual violence. In
addition, apparent chaos in the battlefield appears more structured than expected and
physical satisfaction offers only a partial explanation to the violence. In conjunction with
the second part where modern evidence is discussed, the current papers provide an
historical, cultural and psychological insight into the persistence of sexual violence and
its influences.
Wars provide difficulties for otherwise accepted social and moral norms. A society
at war or an army in battle forms new rules and understandings of behaviour. Widely
condemned in peacetime, sexual violence becomes rampant in warfare. This does not
imply that its occurrence is considered less abhorrent during war, even though it
may to some extent be expected. It carries powerful connotations in social settings
and is an atrocious, often lethal experience for its victims. Its perpetration during
conflicts creates and inflates hatred far beyond victim and violator.
The purpose of the following papers is first of all to identify influences acting on
perpetrators—individual and social. In order to detect factors particular to warfare
rather than specific societies, we need to consider different cases, both geographically
Correspondence to: Elisabeth Vikman, 49 Comeragh Road, London W14 9HT, UK. Tel.: +44 (0)20 7386 9878;
Email: elisabeth.vikman@zoom.co.uk
ISSN 1364-8470 (print)/ISSN 1469-2910 (online) ß 2005 Taylor & Francis Group Ltd
DOI: 10.1080/13648470500049826
22 E. Vikman
and historically. Secondly, my intention is to investigate how these influences are
relevant to sexual violence. What has made them cross borders and cultures to
appear in warfare worldwide from the beginning of Mediterranean civilisation until
today? Some features of war have changed beyond recognition—technology now
allows for wars being waged against people without any physical contact—others
have hardly changed at all, such as sexual violence committed against the enemy.
The current part is dedicated to ancient warfare. One difficulty in interpreting
available material lies in the limitations of our evidence. Ancient sources seldom
convey emotions held by perpetrators. They may exaggerate or underestimate
depending on their own attitudes regarding victims and violators. Some are legends,
reflecting ideals and norms rather than actual events. This does not make them less
important; the fact that they are created implies the significance of topics they
contain. Luise White demonstrated the historical worth of rumours in Colonial
Africa: ‘Vampires are a story but belief in vampires is a fact’ (2000, p. 308). We may
gain access to the minds of people through stories they tell.
Interpretation of data is thwarted by the discrepancy between modern and ancient
conceptual frameworks—preconceptions that influence our understanding and may
be misleading. On a basic level, there is a problem of translation. Sexual verbs
indicating aggression that are common in English may not be in other languages
(Davidson 2001, pp. 24–25). With these factors taken into account, ancient evidence
conveys how sexual violence in warfare was viewed and perpetrated. More generally,
the sources show how wars were waged and what influences prevailed in the armies.
Having established the historicity of sexual violence, the second paper treats
more recent data. Current warfare diverges in many ways from ancient battles,
which make themes held in common even more striking. Modern evidence is
available in greater detail. There are testimonies given by perpetrators—invaluable
in understanding motives. However, as in the ancient cases, sources cannot be
taken at face value. Violators’ attitudes to their actions inevitably influence their
stories. Interpretations by modern scholars will be conferred to widen the
perspective. There is a danger of victimising perpetrators—of denying them
agency and attributing their deeds to forces beyond their control. Pinpointing
external influences is therefore problematic, especially as they appear in general in
wildly divergent societies and settings. Are the perpetrators victims of a
pathological situation (war) or institution (the army)? Are all men inherent
rapists, unleashed in the chaos of war or does war facilitate certain individuals’
disposition for aggressive sexual behaviour? Is sexual violence due to individual
initiative or general policies and other external pressure? ‘Sexual violence’ here
denotes violence of a sexual nature such as rape or mutilations enacted upon
both genders (although an overwhelming majority of victims are female) that not
uncommonly leads to the victim’s death.
The Israelites
The Old Testament establishes sexual violence as a major feature in ancient warfare.
Depictions suggest a deliberate ‘policy’ of rape, perhaps for reproductive but also
Anthropology & Medicine 23
symbolic reasons. The Israelites show how indiscriminate violence was appropriate
conduct against the ‘other’ during these early holy wars: ‘When you go out to war
against your enemies . . . and you see among the captives a beautiful woman, and you
desire to take her . . . you may go in to her and be her husband . . . But you shall not
sell her for money, nor shall you treat her as a slave, since you have humiliated her’
(Deuteronomy: 21.10–14). The victorious may do as they wish with defeated peoples.
Note that rape is perceived as humiliating, contradicting the reference to a
relationship between husband and wife mentioned in the same part. A distinction is
made in rape as opposed to enslavement of the victim—slavery was common in
ancient warfare. In addition to slaves being rightfully violated, this scenario is a
further situation where sexual violence is justified. Subjecting victims to enslavement
and/or sexual violence are ways of asserting power over the defeated. The above
policy was put into practice. In conducting warfare against the Midianites, Moses
orders the mass rape of 32 000 girls: ‘. . . all the young girls who have not known man
by lying with him keep alive for yourselves . . .’ (Numbers: 31). The institution of
slavery and the practice of enslaving defeated populations set conditions for
statements of this kind. Acquiring rather than violating slaves could be the main
intention. Nevertheless, slaves were objects of sexual violations as their bodies
belonged to their master. Additionally, the emphasis put on female virginity
indicates the importance of sexual access. As seen above, when defeated women were
not seen as slaves they were still targets of rape.
Rape and nakedness as symbols of defeat and humiliation are further illustrated in
Nahum: ‘The river gates are opened; the palace melts away; its mistress is stripped;
she is carried off . . .’ Nudity is put forward as a threat in the same part: ‘Behold, I am
against you, declares the LORD of hosts, and will lift up your skirts over your face;
and I will make the nations look at your nakedness and kingdoms at your shame’
(2.6–7, 3.5; see Ezekiel: 23.26–46). Sexual violations in prophecies are examples of
ultimate mayhem. The oracle of Babylon announces that ‘Their infants will be
dashed in pieces before their eyes; their houses will be plundered and their wives
ravished’ (Isaiah: 13.16). In Curses for Disobedience, rape is one punishment
delivered by conquerors (Deuteronomy: 28.25–30). Where rape is portrayed as an
actual event, it is referred to in conjunction with famine, slavery and other perishes
of defeat: ‘Women are raped in Zion, young women in the towns of Judah’
(Lamentations: 5.11).
Paul Bentley Kern believes that Hebrew prophets saw it as inevitable in warfare.
Breaking into a city is symbolically manifested and re-enacted by raping its citizens.
‘The defending soldiers were attempting to protect their sexual rights to their wives
as well as to protect the sexual integrity of their tribe or ethnic group. The raping
that frequently followed the fall of a city starkly symbolized total victory in a total
war’ (1999, p. 81). An immediate, real concern—reproduction—is combined with a
symbolisation of reality—defeat. Prophets are portraying the ultimate nightmare.
Rape, mutilations of pregnant women and killing babies ‘. . . seem to function in
our sources as images reflecting a vision of a world without limits or structure
or morality, in which men violated deep-seated taboos about sex, pregnancy,
and survival’ (1999, p. 85). This can explain the presence of sexual violence in
24 E. Vikman
prophecies, but how could the actual rape of the Midianites be understood?
John Hartung argues that rape was not only inevitable in warfare but also
defendable, if the perpetrators were Israelites (1992, p. 390). It was considered an
appropriate revenge as it avenged the wrong done to them by the Midianites.
The victorious had a right to sexually violate their enemies just as they would kill
or enslave them.
The Greeks
‘The dominant theme in the representation of siege warfare in Greek literature is
rape’ (Kern 1999, p. 158). Rape figures continually, along with general plundering,
ravaging and mayhem. In the Iliad, Agamemnon promises Achilles women in
abundance if Troy is sacked: ‘. . . if the gods permit us to sack the great city of Priam,
let him . . . pick out twenty Trojan women for himself . . .’ (9.137–139). Trojan
women and men were to be punished for the rape of Helen. The expedition is urged,
‘Let there be no scramble to get home, then, till every man of you has slept with a
Trojan wife and been paid for the toil and groans that Helen caused him’ (2.389–
392). It is the suffering of Achaean warriors and not that of Helen which is
avenged. This may reflect uncertainty regarding Helen’s consent to her kidnapping.
It also indicates how sexual violence—particularly access to women—is regarded as
a violation not only of the immediate victim but of individuals associated with
him or her.
Rape could be considered highly inappropriate and dangerous when perpetrated
in sacred settings. Herodotus points out that intercourse is prohibited in sanctuaries.
This rule was reportedly broken by Ajax (the Locrian, or lesser) at the sack of Troy.
His infamous rape of Cassandra who sought refuge at Athena’s altar angered the
gods and eventually led to his death (2.64).1 Sexual acts appear so shocking in this
context that Hellenic deities were dangerously provoked. ‘Like the Hebrew prophets,
Homer revealed a prophetic vision of moral chaos so complete and frightening that
we can scarcely bear to look’ (Kern 1999, p. 162). Sexual violence had ability to shock
and disgust the contemporary audience.
Believed to have been written during the eighth century BC, the Iliad portrays the
Mycenaean period as Greeks imagined it at the time of Homer—at least 400 years
after the Trojan War. The story does not necessarily reflect how Greeks behaved in
practice, although it does reveal the importance attached to included ideals. With
this in mind, the link between warfare and sexuality can be evaluated. Emily
Vermeule argues that individual violence in war was associated with sexual relations
in early Greece. ‘A duel at close quarters may be treated formally as a love-struggle,
two bodies straining against each other in a match of death’ (1979, p. 101). This
symbolism is apparent in the clash between Hector and Achilles. Hector imposes
gender roles on himself and his opponent. ‘. . . [Achilles] will kill me out of hand like
a woman, naked and unarmed . . . I cannot see Achilles and myself as a pair of
trysting lovers . . .’ (22.126). Using feminine traits when insulting an opponent is
illustrated in the Iliad. Diomedes scorns Paris’ attack by referring to his ‘pretty
lovelocks’ and describing injury inflicted as a ‘scratch’; ‘And for that I care no more
Anthropology & Medicine 25
than if a woman or naughty boy had hit me’ (11.386). This imagery is significant for
the occurrence of rape as sexual violence becomes a vehicle for emphasising and
reconstituting masculinity.2 In addition to being effeminate the enemy is often
described as bestial, revealing a normalisation of brutal violence against
dehumanised individuals. Vermeule notes that hunting was another action often
made to represent warfare. The enemy is killed ‘. . . more easily if he is called an
animal—monkey, pig, dog, snake, rat, vermin . . .’ (1979, p. 85). Homer introduced
these symbols when describing warriors in the Iliad: Hector becomes a ‘timid dove’
chased by Achilles the ‘mountain hawk’ (22.142). Depicted through poetic prose, the
gruesome defeat of the Trojan hero is sanitised, even if this may not be Homer’s
intention.
The brutality of warfare in the Iliad indicates a lack of rules of conduct.
However, from a different point of view the unrestrained violence was not due to
the absence of rules. Hans van Wees believes that the underlying motive for
sacking Troy has to be considered. The object of destruction and annihilation of
Trojans was in effect served by the Achaeans’ indiscriminate violence. Van Wees
builds this conclusion on the distinction made between treatment of Trojan men
and women. The former were killed, whereas the latter where raped and
enslaved, indicating that warriors’ behaviour followed some form of rules. ‘The
destruction of Troy . . . is a deliberate act, executed to the requirements of the
Homeric ethics of vengeance’ (1992, p. 188).3 Homer imagined a clear code of
treatment that adhered to gendered principles.
Contemporary views of ‘the other’ help explain treatment of defeated enemies. In
stark contrast to depictions of honourable Greek soldiers stands the interpretation of
the opposite—‘barbarian’ warriors. When Greek historian Herodotus portrays rape
carried out by Persians it signifies savage behaviour. ‘A few Phocians were chased
and caught near the mountains, and some women were raped successively by so
many Persian soldiers that they died’ (8.33).4 Herodotus gives more examples of
Persian viciousness in war. Accounts of young boys being castrated and women
having their breasts cut off would have shocked Greek audiences (6.32, 4.202).
Herodotus incorporated these tales as part of a harrowing story which not only
portrays emotions associated with them, but also how sexual violence sometimes was
seen as barbaric. Sexual abuse and rape was perceived and depicted differently
according to context.
A moral division between Greeks and barbarians in war is further emphasised
by Isocrates. Experiencing the Peloponnesian war in latter part of fifth century BC,
Isocrates vehemently condemns warfare between Hellenic peoples. Instead, he
argues that battles should be fought against outsiders: ‘. . . that war is the most
necessary and the most righteous which we wage in alliance with the Hellenes
against the barbarians, who are by nature our foes . . .’ (Panath, pp. 163–164).
Isocrates calls for united efforts against these ‘foes’ (non-Greeks in general) which
he considers fundamentally inferior. With a claim that has been repeated
throughout history, he promotes the idea of a holy war. ‘For this war is the only
war which is better than peace; it will be more like a sacred mission than a military
expedition . . .’ (Paneg, pp. 181–182).5 Isocrates differentiated warfare amongst
26 E. Vikman
Hellenes from that against ‘barbarians’. The former was unjustified and wasteful,
the latter simply natural. Josiah Ober argues along these lines that rules governing
battlefield conduct, established after eighth century BC, did not apply to conflicts
between Greeks and non-Hellenes (1994, p. 13). This could indicate that brutality
displayed in the Iliad was not due to absence of rules. It may instead have resulted
from justification of excessive violence not only as revenge on enemies, but also
towards non-Hellenes, the barbarian ‘others’. It also explains unrestrained violence
executed during the Peloponnesian war, when Greeks started seeing each other
as ‘the other’.
At the time of Isocrates and, amongst other Greek historians, Thucydides,
bespoken rules of conduct broke down as the Peloponnesian war rippled through
the states. Battle behaviour previously deemed justified only against barbarian
outsiders became waged on other Greeks. Violence in the Iliad, portrayed 300 years
earlier, now appears in practice. Numerous accounts of cities being sacked reveal
the fate of defeated peoples. As Hans van Wees noted in the Iliad (see above),
there seems to be a deliberate policy acted out by victorious armies. Thucydides
describes a range of vanquished cities being taken by storm or capitulating, often
following a long period of agonising siege. A pattern forms in his narrative, strongly
resembling Homers’ gendered ideal; men are slaughtered whereas women and
children are enslaved. In 427 BC, the Lacedaemonians besieged Plataeae. After
surrendering, 200 Plataean men were executed and the women were sold as slaves.
Six years later, the same happened to Scione as Athenians overpowered them. All
males were slaughtered in Hysiae by Lacedaemonians in 417 BC; the following year,
Athenians executed all Melian men and enslaved the women and children. Another
historian, Diodorus, presents the same scenario often involving Dionysus of
Syracuse, a general orchestrating numerous sackings; Naxos and Rhegion were both
cities where populations were enslaved or massacred. In 364 BC, all the knights of
Orchomenus were executed by Thebans, whereas women and children were sold into
slavery.6 These are only a few examples of what awaited subjugated populations at
the time. We noted earlier that warriors in the Iliad were often given animal
characteristics, enriching the prose but also reducing them to something less than
humans. I would argue that slavery—widely portrayed in later sources (as seen
above)—served a similar purpose. Dehumanisation is here institutionalised in
reality, making victims justifiable targets of violence not normally deemed
appropriate against humans. Concluding the discussion of ancient Greek evidence
there are some main points to emphasise. Both Homeric legends and Greek
historiography portray a warfare that was governed by rules restraining and
encouraging violence depending on context. Rules were related to contemporary
views on masculinity, barbarism and revenge. Sexual violence may have been
individually initiated, but in many instances it appears to have served a general
objective. According to Homer’s ideal, it seemed logical that Greeks would
be instructed to rape Trojan women. Historiographers of the fifth and fourth
centuries give few specific details of actual fates of female victims during wars. They
convey the structure of battle and the divide in treatment of men and women. What
happened to the victims cannot be dismissed as random.
Anthropology & Medicine 27
The Romans
Republican and imperial Roman armies provide further portrayals of sexual violence
in ancient warfare. Roman society was claimed to be founded on the legendary rape
of the Sabine women. When war broke out between angered fathers, brothers and
abductors it was ended by the violated women with sexual undertones. ‘. . . with
loosened hair and torn garments, their woman’s timidity lost in a sense of their
misfortune, dared to go amongst the flying missiles, . . . to part the hostile forces’
(Livy, 1.13.1–2). These diplomatic maidens hence became the foundation for Roman
society. As in Homeric epics, the rape is a legend and more symbolic than factual.
The violation of could be justified precisely because it occurred in a mythical rather
than real setting. It nevertheless illustrates one contemporary (positive) attitude
towards sexual violence and its association with warfare.
Continuing along these lines, Rome’s army is surrounded by tales of rape and
abuse in practice, particularly in sacking cities. This reflects ancient Greek evidence
discussed above. Livy tells of cities being ‘given’ to soldiers after victory, implying an
organised pattern where fighting was logically followed by plunder and rape.
Descriptions of soldiers’ behaviour seem to depend partly on Livy’s own attitude. A
passing comment sometimes turns considerably more detailed. He strongly criticises
a Roman general and his savage soldiers as they seize the town of Locri from the
Carthaginians: ‘They defile matrons, maidens and free-born boys . . . there remains
no kind of crime, lust, avarice that has been overlooked in the case of any possible
victim’ (25.31.8–9 as opposed to 29.17.15–19).
Generals’ responsibility for their troops’ behaviour is later emphasised by Cicero
when he describes abuse of virgins and boys: ‘As for that myrmillo [a sort of
gladiator] turned general, what havoc he has made wherever he set his foot . . . Fields
are laid waste, farmhouses ransacked, mothers of families and unmarried girls and
boys of free birth torn away and handed over to the soldiery’ (3.31). Roman generals
appear incapable of stopping their forces from raiding cities. Polybius’ account of
Scipio’s well-ordered sacking in 190 BC (10.15) would suggest the opposite, but
there are instances where commanders seem unable to control their troops. The
praetor Aemilius’ attempt to spare surrendered Phocians ends in disaster: ‘With such
shouts, as if they had received a signal from the praetor, they rushed off in every
direction to plunder the city . . . wrath and greed proved stronger than authority . . .’
(Livy, 37.32.12–13). Livy presents the rampage of Hannibal’s forces in a similar
manner, illustrating the savageness of Carthaginians. Their outrageous behaviour is
emphasised by the city’s surrender whereupon modesty should be observed by the
victorious. ‘. . . a signal was suddenly given to the victors to sack the town, as if they
had taken it by storm . . . every species of lust and outrage and inhuman insolence
was visited upon the wretched inhabitants’ (21.57.13–14). Note how the mayhem
seemed ordered, with troops appearing to obey their commander. It is also
significant that excessive violence would be less controversial if the city had been
‘taken by storm’ instead of capitulating; resistance—not surrender—should be
punished. Commanders’ responsibility when sexual violence is executed by their
troops poses a returning problem and will be discussed further later in this paper.
28 E. Vikman
So far it should be noted that regardless of whether the general was able to restrain
his troops, he was held accountable for their actions. Conversely, when commanders
found it suitable to terrorise and humiliate a subjugated population, Roman soldiers
were happy to carry out this wish.
Sources dating from the Roman Empire paint a similar picture of battlefield
behaviour. Tacitus describes 40 000 Roman soldiers arriving at Cremona in 69 AD:
‘Whenever a young woman or handsome youth fell into their hands, they were
torn to pieces by the violent struggles of those who tried to secure them’ (3.33).
Abuse did not end with the battles. Arriving Roman legions put tremendous pressure
on local populations. Soldiers were free to abuse and violate people, regardless of
political status. According to Tacitus, Roman public opinion condemned this
behaviour and boycotted slaves generated by the raid at Cremona (3.34). A contrast
in outlook on the rape of the Sabine women as opposed to rampaging Roman troops
in the field is apparent. The first is seen as an acceptable and indeed, commendable
social act, whereas the latter is condemned as barbaric. What was tolerated as a
legend becomes despicable in reality.
How consistent was sexual violence in Roman warfare? Adam Ziolowski argues
that Livy’s passages presents direptio (to tear apart) as a well-known concept with
images and connotations recognised by Roman peoples. He believes Tacitus’
reference to rape emphasises this: ‘. . . the only derivative of diripio employed in
Tacitus’ account of the sack of Cremona, direptores, is used in the sense of
‘‘ravishers’’, ‘‘violators’’’. He claims that sexual violence was as ‘normal’ during the
direptio as looting (1993, p. 72). This could be proof of the individual freedom
enjoyed by soldiers when sacking cities since the ‘pleasure of raping are the
ravisher’s alone’ (1993, p. 73). Ziolowski builds this argument on incidences
where commanders gave cities to soldiers to plunder and on the apparent survival
of fair women: ‘. . . sexual attractiveness was surely the victims’ best chance of
survival’ (1993, p. 78). However, it is important to remember the subsequent
enslavement of enemy women common in ancient warfare. Attractive women
would then hold a higher economical value and this may be an additional motive
to spare their lives.
Incapability of commanders in controlling their troops, as seen above in the case
of Aemilius, could imply that sexual violence was due to individual initiative rather
than overriding policy. Cities were disorderedly sacked by Roman troops in most
cases, but then of course war is a disorderly business. Rather than being ordered to
violate the defeated, soldiers were allowed, or invited, to do so. It was a reward that
they had fought for which seemed justified to them. The fate of the defeated was
positioned on a scale with the soldier’s lust/greed at one end and rage/hatred at the
other end. Moral implications followed regarding resistance or surrender, where
Roman public view called for greater mercy in the latter. This would come
secondary to the soldiers’ intention, which is illustrated by commanders’ inability to
stop the troops when moderation was desirable. One main problem with this
interpretation is in determining which intentions and emotions that trigger sexual
violence. Sexual gratification may be an objective for rape but the same could be said
for rage and revenge. To complicate it further, all these factors may be present when
Anthropology & Medicine 29
sexual violence occurs. Deliberately or not, rape could serve an individual (instant
sexual gratification, relief of anger) as well as a common (revenge, subjugation of
population) purpose. Furthermore, rape may be an individual act but so is slaying
people, the latter being ordered by commanders. The sheer magnitude of brutality
and apparent structure of mayhem—fighting first, plunder and rape second—
implies some type of overarching policy.
William V. Harris argues that Roman warfare was malignant: ‘. . . almost every
year the legions went out and did massive violence to someone—and this regularity
gives the phenomenon a pathological character’ (1985, p. 53). The otherwise
abnormal behaviour adopted by soldiers surrounding battle must have been
normalised, as war turns into everyday experience. Killed, violated and mutilated
people must eventually become a regular feature for the soldiers. Harris claims
that the Roman army had a particular taste for savage behaviour: ‘. . . the regular
harshness of Roman war-methods sprang from an unusually pronounced willing-
ness to use violence against alien peoples . . .’ He believes Romans were worse in
this respect than other, contemporary societies (1985, p. 50). It must be noted
that the soldiers held a position where they were able to act in this way. Belonging
to the strongest military force at the time equalled possibility of mutilating and
killing people without repercussions—a ‘privilege’ seldom enjoyed in any social
setting. They exploited this situation as far as they could. Roman warfare was
so ferocious that it gave rise to its own terminology adopted by later theorists.
Robert C. Stacey proposes that medieval thinkers ‘. . . erected bellum Romanum . . .
into a category of warfare which permitted indiscriminate slaughter or enslavement
of entire populations without distinction between combatant and non-combatant
status’. Here was warfare on a total level. Stacey believes that in the medieval
world it became interpreted as appropriate against ‘the other’: ‘. . . Christians ought
to employ it only against [what they consider to be] pagans, like the Muslims
in the Holy Land or, in the sixteenth century, the aboriginal peoples of the
New World’ (1994, p. 28). This is mirrored in the Old Testament discussed above
and in ancient Greek evidence, notably by Isocrates, who strongly encouraged
brutality against non-Hellenes. As Romans conquered new territory and non-
Roman peoples, ruthless behaviour became justified. It is significant that Roman
citizens protested against excessive violence when it concerned Cremona, which
was situated in Italy. Perhaps they cared less when more distant societies were
targeted.
Conclusion
Evidence considered so far confirms the historical occurrence of sexual violence
which was widely associated with chaos, mayhem and breakdown of social order—
conditions prevalent in warfare. As raping was generally feared in conflict it may
have been seen as ultimately inevitable, expected behaviour by conquering troops.
Nevertheless, to the same extent that rape was feared it was also seen as justified
when committed against enemies. Here it becomes a commendable, rewarding act.
Within the contemporary symbolical framework, sexual violence denotes revenge
30 E. Vikman
and triumph for the winning side and conversely, humiliation and defeat for the
conquered. Rape of bodies comes to symbolise rape of cities, of a population as a
whole.7 What can be concluded so far is that individual, physical gratification alone
does not give a satisfactory answer to why sexual violence was perpetrated in warfare.
A range of other elements played an important part in determining when, where and
against whom the violence was directed. Legend and reality complement each other.
This is warfare of the ancient world, in many ways distant to battles fought in
modern times. Certain features, however, remain remarkably similar. To follow in
the second part of this paper is an evaluation of modern evidence, revealing
a brutality that has defied progress of civilisation.
Notes
[1] See Parker (2001).
[2] Masculinity here denotes maleness—basic biological attributes such as physical power.
Its countless definitions cannot be discussed in depth here due to space restrictions. What
I would claim is that masculinity is intrinsically linked with femininity. This correlation stays
the same, regardless of how they are portrayed at any given place and time, as they constantly
influence and transform each other. The current paper will show how sexual violence has
constituted a brutal embodiment of this relationship throughout history. See Gutmann
(1997) for further discussion of female influence on masculinity.
[3] See Lendon (2000).
[4] See Harrison (1997).
[5] See Karavites (1982, Chapter 4).
[6] Thucydides; Plataeae: III.68.1–3, Scione: V.32.1, Hysiae: V.83.2, Melos: V.84–116, Diodorus
Sicilus; Naxos: XIV.15.2–4, Rhegion: XIV.111.4, Orchomenos: XV.79.6.
[7] Conversely, the conquest of cities may symbolise a violation of bodies. Victims’ experiences
have not been treated in this paper due to limited space. Research into how people in the
ancient world dealt with their trauma would be valuable.
References
Ancient Sources
Cicero (1986) Philippics, trans. D. R. S. Bailey, University of North Carolina Press, Chapel Hill, NC.
Diodorus Sicilus (1954) Books XV & XVI, trans. C. H. Oldfather, Loeb Classical Library,
Heinemann, London.
Herodotus (1954) The Histories, trans. A. de Selincourt, Penguin Books, Harmondsworth.
Homer (1950) The Iliad, trans. E. V. Rieu, Penguin Books, Harmondsworth.
Isocrates (1928–1945) Panathenaicus & Panegyricus, trans. G. Norlin, Loeb Classical Library,
Heinemann, London.
Livy (1919/1929) Books I & XXI, trans. B. O. Foster, Loeb Classical Library, Heinemann, London.
Livy (1935) Book XXXVII, trans. E. T. Sage, Loeb Classical Library, Heinemann, London.
Livy (1940) Books XXV & XXIX, trans. F. G. Moore, Loeb Classical Library, Heinemann, London.
The Old Testament (2002) English Standard Version, Collins, London.
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