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By Sydney Leigh Smith

Abstract

Conflict-related sexual violence (CRSV) has traditionally been understood as an inevitable byproduct of war, with rape framed as a biologically driven act of sexual gratification committed by men against women. This perception shifted following landmark rulings by the International Criminal Tribunals for former Yugoslavia (ICTY) and Rwanda (ICTR), which established sexual violence as a weapon of war. This article critically examines the "weapon of war" framework, which portrays militarized men as strategic perpetrators and women as symbolic victims, arguing that it reproduces harmful gendered identities and oversimplifies the complexities of sexual violence in conflict. The paper first traces the historical evolution of how CRSV has been conceptualized—from a natural consequence of war to a gendered and strategic tool of power—before analyzing the limitations of the weapon of war paradigm. It highlights the framework’s exclusion of male victims, female perpetrators, and diverse motivations for sexual violence—such as opportunism, material gain, and combatant bonding—as well as its failure to account for cases where armed groups refrain from using sexual violence altogether. Drawing on original analysis of over 4,000 redacted ICTR witness testimonies, the article demonstrates how the framework has constrained legal recognition, obscured lived experiences, and reproduced narrow narratives of ethnic hatred and gendered violence. It calls for a reframing of the gendered weapon of war concept to better account for the complexity of CRSV and to promote more inclusive approaches to justice, prevention, and survivor-centered redress.

Introduction

Conflict-related sexual violence (CRSV) has historically been understood as a biologically driven and inevitable side effect of war. Rape, specifically, was perceived as an individual act committed by heterosexual men against women for purposes of sexual gratification. This perception began to shift in response to the widespread sexual violence present during the conflicts in former Yugoslavia and Rwanda, as reflected in the landmark rulings of the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY)[1] and the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR).[2] In 1998, the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court (ICC)[3] declared sexual violence, and specifically rape, a war crime, marking the shift toward understanding rape as a weapon of war (UNGA 1998).

This paper begins by tracing the dominant ways rape during conflict has been conceptualized—from being understood as a natural byproduct of war, to a form of gendered violence, and ultimately as a strategic military tool. It proceeds to analyze the “weapon of war” framework, which has come to dominate media, policy, and academic discourse. Within this framework, the perpetrator is positioned as a militarized, heterosexual man who rationally and strategically commits sexual violence for politically motivated reasons, such as destroying the ethnic makeup of communities or reinforcing gender inequality. Women are positioned as the principal victims, serving as social, cultural, and biological symbols that are defiled through acts of sexual violence. 

Although this framing was essential to establishing legal recognition of rape as a war crime, it remains deeply gendered and ultimately reifies the very logic it aims to contest. This paper critically analyzes the limitations and dangers inherent in the weapon of war framework, particularly in its reproduction of narrow perpetrator/victim identities. It also highlights the framework’s failure to account for other potential motivations for sexual violence—such as opportunism, material gain, or combatant bonding—as well as its inattention to cases where armed groups refrain from using sexual violence altogether. It argues for a reframing of the gendered weapon of war concept to more effectively address the sexed bodies and the gendered harms that have been unintentionally perpetuated by feminist discourse. Original data collected from redacted ICTR witness testimonies will be utilized to emphasize the framework’s failures in assigning a specific meaning to rape in war, perpetrators, victims, and rape in war. These shortcomings hinder a full understanding of the complexities of wartime sexual violence, which are essential for effective prevention methods and interventions, punishment of perpetrators, and remedies for victims.

Rape as an Inevitable Side-Effect of Conflict

Violence during war takes many forms, including torture and murder, which have historically been condemned as war crimes. However, rape[4], sexual slavery[5], forced pregnancy[6], and other forms of sexual violence have often been overlooked as human rights abuses, in part due to the persistent framing of sexual violence as a natural and inevitable side effect of war. International attention was drawn to sexual violence in war during the conflicts in the former Yugoslavia and Rwanda, yet these cases are often presented as anomalies with a larger scale than historical conflicts. For example, the term "genocidal rape," coined by Catharine MacKinnon, situates rape on a "continuum of seriousness," with sexual violence in the former Yugoslavia and Rwanda among the worst atrocities women have faced (Chinkin 1994, 399). Nevertheless, widespread rape in war is not a new phenomenon, and its use beyond being an "unfortunate byproduct" of war is not confined to specific historical periods or places (Seifert 1994). For instance, the rapes of numerous Jewish women by Nazis during WWII occurred despite the Nazi ideology of "race defilement" (Brownmiller 1975, 48). Additionally, widespread rape took place during the Congo civil wars, the Kashmir conflict, and is currently occurring in the Russian invasion of Ukraine (Smith 2022).

Feminist scholars argue that rape in war has historically been obscured due to its gender-specific nature, its normalization within patriarchal structures, and the essentializing character of dominant narratives that reduce women to passive victims and men to biologically driven aggressors (Thomas and Ralph 1994). By treating wartime rape as a private, interpersonal issue rather than a political and structural one, these narratives erase the power dynamics that enable sexual violence in armed conflict.

This framing of rape as an inevitable feature of conflict is reinforced by the belief that war represents an exceptional context—one in which ordinary societal norms are suspended or no longer apply. During war, men are presumed to act "naturally," freed from the behavioral expectations of peacetime society (Stern and Zalewski 2009). In this view, the male libido is constructed as an uncontrollable, biological force that demands release. If men are unable to fulfill their sexual needs through acceptable means (such as consensual sex with a partner or a prostitute), they are believed to inevitably resort to sexual violence, including rape (Wood 2009). This logic positions rape as a predictable outcome of male biology rather than as a deliberate act of violence embedded in systems of power. As a result, sexual violence in war is often excused or minimized, dismissed as an unfortunate but natural consequence of masculinity and militarism. This perception reinforces biologically determined gender roles and depoliticizes sexual violence, framing it as a personalized act driven by sexual gratification rather than a weapon of control, domination, and terror.

Framing Rape as a Gendered Crime

Feminist scholars have challenged the framing of rape and sexual violence as acts driven solely by sexual desire or as inevitable byproducts of conflict. Instead, they have reconceptualized sexual violence, particularly during wartime, as an instrumental crime of power and violence, defined by "its gendered meaning and powerful associations" (McGlynn 2008, 71). Feminists argue that rape is predominantly perpetrated against women due to their societal position as subordinate. The feminist wave of the 1960s posited that women's subordinate status in society is the root cause of sexual violence, viewing it as a "mechanism for maintaining male control and domination" (Donat and D'Emilio 1992, 9). Moreover, feminists have framed wartime rape as an extension of the violence women endure in their everyday lives (Biehler 2002).

Building on this foundational understanding, gender inequality theories further explore how women's symbolic roles within society increase their vulnerability to sexual violence. As cultural, biological, and social symbols, women often carry meanings that extend beyond their individual identities. For instance, their role as mothers may be weaponized—rape may be used to forcibly impregnate women, thereby violating their reproductive capacity and "soiling the group's bloodlines" (Reid-Cunningham 2008, 281). In many societies, rape threatens a woman’s perceived purity, which can impact her marriageability and social value, rendering the violence not only personal but communal. In this context, rape functions as both a gendered and political act, intended to harm the woman and the collective she symbolizes. Susan Brownmiller reiterates this by famously describing rape as “a message passed between men—vivid proof of victory for one and loss and defeat for the other” (Brownmiller 1975, 13).

Extending this line of argument, feminist scholars emphasize the connection between sexual violence and nationalist imaginaries, where women’s bodies become stand-ins for the nation itself. Women are often portrayed as bearers of cultural values and reproducers of the national body, both literally and symbolically. In such gendered frameworks, the violation of a woman becomes a metaphor for the violation of the nation (Anand 2008; Mackenzie 2010; Yuval-Davis 1997). Their constructed passivity and symbolic purity—juxtaposed against male roles in combat—render them ‘worthy’ of protection while simultaneously making them targets. As such, sexual violence may be used not just to punish women, but to send a broader message: to suppress perceived social or political gains by women, or to erase the bloodlines of a targeted group through rape and forced impregnation, particularly in contexts of ethnic conflict (Sjoberg 2016, 9).

Understanding sexual violence as a gendered crime is crucial for framing the narrative of rape as a weapon of war, recognizing it as a systematic crime committed against women for strategic purposes. The feminist conceptualization of rape as rooted in structural gender inequality provides the foundation for the weapon of war framework by explaining why women’s bodies are targeted as sites of political violence and cultural erasure. At the same time, it allows us to critically assess how the framework itself reproduces essentialized portrayals of women as passive victims and men as strategic perpetrators. Introducing rape as a gendered crime is key not only to understanding the logic of sexual violence in war, but also to exposing the harmful gendered assumptions embedded within the very framework intended to address it.

Rape as a Weapon of War

The "weapon of war" framework began to dominate international discourse—within the community of scholars, media, and policy practitioners—following the Yugoslavia (ICTY) and Rwanda (ICTR) tribunals. Multiple UN Security Council resolutions[7] have since raised awareness about and increased the influence of conflict-related sexual violence (CRSV). The UN Action Against Sexual Violence in Conflict (2007), which involves 26 UN entities[8], works to enhance programming and advocacy, establish accountability mechanisms, and support national efforts to combat CRSV. Campaigns such as UNiTE to End Violence Against Women (2008)[9] aim to eradicate wartime sexual violence against women and girls. Annual Secretary-General reports[10] detail CRSV and identify the primary victims and perpetrators. These efforts have positioned CRSV as a critical global issue, emphasizing that it is preventable rather than inevitable.

Rape as a weapon of war is defined as widespread, systematic, strategic, and state-perpetrated. It is understood as an intentional and rational tactic employed by the state to achieve specific political outcomes, such as the destruction of an ethnic or religious group, or the punishment of political dissidents. The weapon of war framework conceptualizes rape as a gendered tool of power, with men's domination over women at its core. This framework typically casts perpetrators as militarized heterosexual men, and victims as women whose symbolic roles are exploited to achieve political ends. These acts are framed not as expressions of desire, but as calculated strategies—either carried out under direct state orders or in alignment with the state’s broader political objectives. The act of rape is positioned as a form of hard power, akin to traditional weaponry, with the perpetrator’s body—particularly the penis—conceptualized as a "weapon" (Carter 2010). As perpetrators are considered rational and in control of their actions, they can be held accountable under international law. Rape during war is thus framed as a crime against humanity[11], a war crime[12], and an act of genocide[13], all of which are punishable within international legal systems. Rape is not seen as an inevitable consequence of war but as an avoidable and preventable crime, particularly with the implementation of proper interventions, such as gender training and efforts to increase gender equality (UN Action 2007). Therefore, by considering rape a gendered weapon of war, these interventions acknowledge that gender is a socially constructed phenomenon (Baaz and Stern 2009).

The weapon of war framework emphasizes state sovereignty, national security, and power, which are predicated on traditional understandings of masculinity and femininity. The state is perceived as an organized, militarized, hierarchical entity that weaponizes rape against women. The focus on power structures assumes a paradigm of male domination, where women's individual security threats are marginalized. Survivors of sexual violence may be treated primarily as symbols of national dishonor rather than individuals with specific needs for justice, care, and redress. The emphasis on national trauma often overshadows personal trauma. Rather than centering on survivors’ lived experiences and the diverse, often localized, forms of harm they endure, the focus is placed on holding perpetrators accountable within international jurisdictions and providing relief to the nation as a whole (Uchida 2018). 

This approach tends to essentialize men's experiences as perpetrators acting on behalf of the state and women's experiences as victims, presenting them as homogenous. Men are portrayed as protectors of the state’s political aims, using their bodies as instruments of hard power. This association between men’s bodies and hard power dehumanizes both the experiences of victims and the perpetrators. Women, in turn, are reduced to symbolic vessels—representations of family, community, and nation—whose bodies become battlegrounds for political struggle. While this framing has been effective in securing legal recognition and accountability, it also obscures the presence of female perpetrators and male victims of sexual violence, who are largely excluded from dominant narratives. This oversight limits understanding of the full scope and complexity of CRSV and reinforces narrow, binary constructions of gender, violence, and victimhood.

Limitations and Exclusions of the Weapon of War Framework

The weapon of war framework excludes the possibility of other motives for sexual violence during war, including opportunism/greed and combatant socialization. Additionally, the framework overlooks the varying military contexts of wartime, where restraint from utilizing sexual violence, even in otherwise violent wars, is often ignored.

Opportunism/Greed

Supporters of the opportunism/greed theory argue that the chaos and breakdown of the state during wartime provides men with an unprecedented opportunity to commit rape (Goldstein 2001). This theory suggests that men engage in sexual violence for sexual gratification rather than for a strategic military purpose. Expanding beyond traditional understandings of rape in war as an inevitable side effect, this theory does not assume that rape is inherent to men but rather that it is promoted and encouraged by the chaos of wartime. State actors, such as soldiers operating outside strict military command, are frequently cited within this framework. For example, soldiers in the Congolese national army (FARDC) engaged in widespread sexual violence, which was not ordered by commanders but instead tolerated as a form of compensation. Many soldiers linked their actions to deep frustration over unpaid wages and their inability to fulfill masculine ideals, rationalizing acts of rape as expressions of “lust” rather than “evil.” This case illustrates how in the absence of adequate institutional control and under conditions of deprivation, rape may emerge as an opportunistic practice facilitated by wartime disorder rather than military strategy (Baaz and Stern 2009).

Combatant Socialization

Combatant socialization, coined by Dara Kay Cohen, argues that armed groups use sexual violence as a recruitment and bonding tool (Cohen 2016). Groups that forcibly recruit personnel during war are more likely to perpetrate gang rape than other groups. Rape is not directly ordered by commanders, but it is also not condemned: this tacit permissiveness creates an environment where sexual violence becomes normalized within the group. While not all commanders may explicitly endorse rape, their failure to punish or prevent it signals implicit approval, enabling a culture in which perpetrators face no repercussions. Members fear ostracization from the group and submit to committing rape as a bonding activity (Henry et al., 2003). There is also a sense of collective responsibility that compels those who would not normally commit rape during peacetime to engage in rape during wartime (Hauffe and Porter 2009). The conflict in Sierra Leone (1991-2002), where the main rebel group, the Revolutionary United Front (RUF), forcibly recruited the majority of its fighters, is an example of this argument. The RUF’s heavy reliance on abduction resulted in low levels of preexisting trust and cohesion among fighters. In response, gang rape served as a mechanism to build bonds, enhance group loyalty, and increase solidarity among combatants. This recruitment was followed by an increase in gang rapes, despite a lack of evidence supporting a direct military strategy (Cohen 2016).

Varying Military Contexts and the Possibility for Restraint

The weapon of war framework assumes that state and military structures are organized, disciplined, hierarchical, and capable of enacting strategically planned political outcomes. However, military institutions rarely embody these ideals. In practice, they often suffer from internal fragmentation, limited command-and-control capacity, and weak accountability structures, which can make the coordinated execution of systematic rape difficult. Fragmented armed groups frequently struggle to control when and how violence is employed, including enforcing ceasefires or ensuring compliance with orders. They are even less able to prevent opportunistic acts of sexual violence (Worsnop 2013). The high prevalence of rape in war, even within the military, is therefore not always linked to a coherent strategic plan. Individual motives such as opportunism, greed, or group bonding (i.e., combatant socialization) are prevalent in many conflicts. Furthermore, even in contexts where greater military coordination exists, the framework overlooks the surge in sexual violence that can follow the breakdown of these structures. When leadership is absent and norms prohibiting sexual violence are not enforced, rape may increase—even in the absence of any direct political or strategic objective.

The weapon of war framework also excludes the possibility that armed groups may exercise restraint in committing sexual violence, even in highly violent conflicts. Many armed groups—including secessionist ethnic groups, state militias, and insurgent groups—do not engage in widespread sexual violence, even when in contact with civilians. Elisabeth Wood explains this restraint through a bottom-up and top-down theory. The bottom-up theory suggests that soldiers may adhere to norms against sexual violence, such as standards of professionalism, group codes, cultural norms, pollution taboos, or viewing themselves as liberators of civilians. Sexual violence is less prevalent when commanders prohibit it and when soldiers' units endorse norms against it. The top-down theory argues that leaders may see sexual violence as counterproductive, as it can damage relationships with civilians (who are often a key source of supplies), conflict with their ideology, damage legitimacy, deter female recruits, or spread disease. Restraint of sexual violence can be observed when leaders view it as counterproductive and there is a strong enough hierarchy to enforce a ban (Wood 2009).

An example of restraint can be seen in the Sri Lankan conflict (1983-2009), in which the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE), despite engaging in other forms of violence such as civilian killings and forced displacement, did not utilize sexual violence strategically. The LTTE's leadership banned sexual violence, and the group maintained strict internal discipline to enforce this prohibition (Wood 2009). Such examples illustrate how restraint is not only possible but can be deliberately institutionalized.

By assuming that sexual violence is by default strategic tool of war, the weapon of war framework ignores these instances of conscious restraint, and thereby limits its explanatory power. A reframed approach would move beyond binary assumptions of either strategic use or chaotic breakdown, instead recognizing that sexual violence—and its absence—results from complex organizational, ideological, and normative factors. Accounting for both perpetration and restraint would allow for a more accurate and gender-sensitive understanding of how armed groups operate, and would better support prevention and accountability efforts across diverse conflict settings.

The Birth of the Weapon of War Framework

The International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR) provides one of the most prominent examples of the weapon of war phenomenon and plays a central role in institutionalizing the framework as it is understood today. Established in the aftermath of the 1994 genocide, the ICTR was groundbreaking in its recognition of sexual violence as a tool of genocide. However, the way it constructed, interpreted, and prosecuted rape has shaped a rigid understanding of conflict-related sexual violence (CRSV) that centers militarized men as strategic perpetrators and women as symbolic victims. This section examines how the ICTR's approach advanced international legal recognition of sexual violence and simultaneously constrained the complexity of survivors’ experiences by reinforcing ethnic and gender binaries.

Historical and Legal Context

The Rwandan genocide, which spanned 100 days of mass violence between April and July 1994, is widely understood as a systematic and calculated effort by extremist Hutu groups—including the Rwanda Armed Forces (FAR), the national police, the Presidential Guard, and pro-government militias such as the Interahamwe and Impuzamugambi—to eliminate the Tutsi ethnic group.[14] Various scholars also recognize that “moderate” Hutus were victims of politicide, wherein opposition to the government was eradicated (Harrf and Gurr 1998). The number of Tutsi deaths during the genocide remains debated among scholars, with some sources citing an overwhelming Tutsi majority. Others argue that the death toll includes approximately 300,000–500,000 Tutsi and 500,000–700,000 Hutu deaths. Additionally, there are records of both Hutu and Tutsi citizens participating in violence, with combatants and noncombatants engaging in killings motivated by ethnic hatred, political revenge, or personal gain. The Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF) has also been reported to have engaged in acts of retaliation as they entered Rwanda, which is linked to state consolidation efforts (Davenport and Stam 2009).

How the ICTR constructed the weapon of war narrative

Established in November 1994 by United Nations Security Council Resolution 955, the ICTR aimed to facilitate national reconciliation and peace in Rwanda. Since its establishment, the tribunal has indicted 93 individuals and sentenced 62 (ICTR 2021). The ICTR was the first international criminal tribunal to deliver verdicts against individuals responsible for genocide, most notably in the case of Jean-Paul Akayesu, the former mayor of Taba Commune in Butare Prefecture. It was also the first tribunal to recognize rape as a means of perpetrating genocide. Moreover, the ICTR was groundbreaking in indicting a woman, Pauline Nyiramasuhuko, for committing rape as a form of genocide and a crime against humanity.

The weapon of war framework presented at the ICTR centers on proving that rape was used as a form of genocide. Genocide is a particularly grave crime because it targets a group for destruction based on who they are, rather than for political or other reasons. Proving genocide is a difficult legal task, as it must be shown that rape was used strategically and systematically by militarized perpetrators, in this case, Hutu men, to commit widespread sexual violence with the intent to destroy a particular group. Genocide is defined by three key elements: (1) it is enacted against members of a protected group (i.e., national, ethnic, racial, religious, etc.), (2) it causes serious bodily or mental harm (i.e., killing, preventing births, transferring children, etc.), and (3) it is committed with a specific intent—to destroy, in whole or in part, the specific group (Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide, art. II). To support this legal threshold, the ICTR constructed a narrative that clearly delineated victims and perpetrators along ethnic and gendered lines—Tutsi victims and Hutu perpetrators, female victims and male perpetrators—with rape positioned as a gendered crime.

The limitations and contradictions of this approach

At the ICTR, both ethnic and gender binaries were used to prove that rape constituted genocide. The only accepted victims of rape were Tutsi women, reflecting a narrow understanding of who could be harmed and how. Yet rape is only one form of sexual violence, which can also include sexual slavery, forced prostitution, forced pregnancy, forced sterilization, sexual mutilation, and sexual torture. The focus on rape, as opposed to other forms of sexual violence, was due to its perceived brutality and because it is more often enacted on women's bodies, a consequence of societal constructions of women and the norms of heteronormativity. This framework excluded male victims, non-Tutsi victims, and other acts of sexual violence, narrowing the scope of justice and reinforcing essentialist assumptions about who suffers and how.

The ICTR meticulously constructed evidence that shaped a particular pattern of violence, almost exclusively including testimonies from Tutsi women regarding sexual violence. Investigators, interviewers, and translators, many of whom were not Rwandan or women, faced significant cultural barriers, making the collection of testimonies particularly challenging. Moreover, the testimonies were translated immediately into English and French, introducing a large margin of error, and were collected in a way that prioritized facts—such as dates, places, and names—over victims’ experiences. As a result, the narratives were heavily mediated to meet the tribunal's needs (Koomen 2013).

The process of testimony collection, cross-examination, and translation shaped how sexual violence was understood and who was believed. The tribunal process positioned Tutsi women witnesses in a vulnerable situation, particularly during cross-examination, where victim-blaming and retraumatization occurred. For instance, during the Butare trial, a witness who had been raped by Shalom Ntahobali and infected with HIV was told by the defense that she could not have been raped because she had not showered before the assault (Forges and Longman 2004). Such inappropriate questioning was compounded by the behavior of trial judges, who reportedly mocked the severity of the situation. Testimonies were often inaccurately translated to emphasize brutality, and women were frequently forced to use explicit language against their wishes. Stories that included personal details, such as witnessing the death of a child, were frequently edited to focus solely on the rape, diminishing the full scope of victims' experiences. While these narratives were instrumental in securing convictions, they also flattened survivors’ experiences into a narrow legal script.

The case of Pauline Nyiramasuhuko and the illusion of gender progress

The case of Pauline Nyiramasuhuko is often hailed as a groundbreaking moment for the prosecution of female perpetrators. However, this trial was not as revolutionary as it may seem. While Nyiramasuhuko was the first—and only—woman indicted by the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR), her portrayal in both the court and media did not deviate from established gendered norms. Her actions—ordering male soldiers to sexually violate women—were framed as "femininity gone wrong," despite her exercising authority typically associated with men in powerful positions (Sjoberg 2016). In this sense, the case appears to challenge the weapon of war framework—which assumes male perpetrators and female victims—but ultimately reinforces its gendered foundations by treating Nyiramasuhuko as an exceptional aberration rather than a disruption of the norm.

Nyiramasuhuko’s defense relied on gender essentialism, with claims that women are inherently pacifist and victimized. Outside the ICTR, statistics from the Rwandan justice system further reflect gendered assumptions about culpability. As of 2004, approximately 3,000 women—about 3.4% of the prison population—were incarcerated for genocide-related crimes, primarily for acting as accomplices (such as denouncing victims or joining attack groups) or for looting. Only six women (0.2%) were sentenced to death, and only one was executed. The acquittal rate for women charged with genocide-related crimes was 40%. In contrast, in 2002 alone, 1,909 Rwandan men were adjudicated for genocide-related crimes; 70 (3.6%) received the death penalty, and 528 (27.6%) were acquitted (Adler, Loyle, and Globerman 2007, 212). These disparities underscore how gendered perceptions shape the adjudication of violence: women are more likely to be viewed as passive bystanders or coerced accomplices, while men are assumed to be the primary architects and agents of atrocity. Despite her status as a female perpetrator, Nyiramasuhuko’s case and broader patterns of accountability ultimately reinforced the gendered hierarchies that shape the perception and prosecution of sexual and political violence. 

A Contradictory Legacy

While the ICTR set legal precedents that advanced accountability for sexual violence, its approach also created a rigid legal narrative that rendered many victims and perpetrators invisible. The tribunal’s reliance on gender and ethnic binaries to prove that rape was systematically utilized by Hutu actors against Tutsi women raises significant concerns. The ethnic hatred theory posits that ethnic wars, particularly genocidal conflicts, are more likely to involve sexual violence. By heavily mediating witness testimonies and shaping narratives to fit a clear ethnic hatred framework, the tribunal minimized the complexity of the violence. In privileging this narrative, the ICTR prioritized certain forms of violence—namely, those that could be clearly framed as strategic, ethnically motivated acts—over others. As a result, many victims were left without proper recognition, and the tribunal reinforced the very binaries that underpinned the violence it sought to redress.

Insights from ICTR Witness Testimonies

Data and Methodology

This article draws on a custom-built database of over 4,000 redacted witness testimonies from the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR). The testimonies were obtained through GenoDynamics and are not publicly available in order to protect the privacy and safety of those named in the testimonies. These materials have not been previously analyzed in academic literature and were likely excluded from the tribunal’s primary evidentiary framework due to their disruption of established victim/perpetrator binaries.

The focus of this study is on state-perpetrated sexual violence, committed by a range of armed actors—including government or state military forces, rebel or insurgent groups, and pro-government militias (PGMs)—during the Rwandan genocide from April to July 1994. The dataset also includes instances of sexual violence committed by armed groups against individuals within their own organizations.

To systematically analyze these testimonies[15], a comprehensive coding scheme was developed, capturing eight key variables: (1) testimony[16], (2) time[17], (3) instance(s)[18], (4) location[19], (5) perpetrator(s)[20], (6) victim(s)[21], (7) targeting[22], and (8) form of sexual violence[23]. This framework was informed by international legal definitions, particularly those of the ICC, but was expanded to include underreported categories such as sexual violence by proxy[24] and both pre- and post-mortem sexual violence[25]. 

Insights from the Dataset

The coding scheme uncovered previously invisible victims and perpetrators along gendered and ethnic lines. Most notably, the dataset documents the existence of male victims of state-perpetrated sexual violence. These cases—often involving sexual torture, sodomy, and genital mutilation—are rarely acknowledged in formal legal processes. Without the inclusion of categories such as pre- and post-mortem violence, these testimonies may have been entirely excluded. The dataset revealed that 7% of witness testimonies involved male victims, a significant finding given the barriers to data collection in such cases. Male victims were frequently mentioned incidentally by witnesses, but rarely centered in testimonies. The stigma faced by male victims—including ostracism, identity conflict, victim-blaming, and fear of being labeled homosexual—further hindered disclosure, particularly in legal systems where male experiences are classified as torture or abuse rather than sexual crimes.

Despite these challenges, the dataset provides clear evidence of male victimhood, challenging the weapon of war framework, which often assumes that men are militarized, heterosexual perpetrators rather than potential victims. The coding scheme also identified sexual violence by proxy, with Pauline Nyiramasuhuko as a key example. While not a direct perpetrator, Nyiramasuhuko repeatedly ordered others to commit sexual violence, making her the only individual in the dataset associated with multiple incidents of proxy-perpetrated sexual violence, despite nearly 2,000 women being convicted of genocide-related crimes in Rwanda (Hogg 2010, 70).

Ethnicity-based assumptions were also destabilized by the dataset. While 70% of victims were identified as Tutsi, 30% were either not identified by the perpetrator or were explicitly identified as Hutu. This indicates that sexual violence was not exclusively driven by ethnic targeting. Both Hutu and Tutsi men experienced mutilative forms of violence, while women from both groups were subject to gang rape and public assaults—often committed in front of family members. The data suggests that the mode of violence varied more along gendered lines than ethnic ones, complicating the narrative of strategic ethnic targeting advanced by the tribunal.

Finally, the dataset documented instances of sexual violence committed by Tutsi actors, including Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF) members. While the ICTR could not prosecute these individuals—since legal constraints required proving genocidal intent—the testimonies suggest these acts were opportunistic rather than systematic or strategic, and thus fell outside the scope of the tribunal’s mandate. This legal threshold clarifies why the ICTR could prosecute only sexual violence that met the criteria for genocide: namely, violence committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a protected group. Acts committed outside this framework—whether committed by RPF actors, against male victims, or without ethnic motivation—were legally invisible, despite their real and enduring harm.

In sum, this dataset complicates the gendered and ethnic binaries embedded in the weapon of war framework by exposing underrecognized forms of victimhood and perpetration. It suggests the need for an expanded, survivor-centered approach to conflict-related sexual violence that captures its full scope, including those acts and actors omitted from international legal frameworks.

Legacy of the ICTR

The ICTR has significantly influenced the weapon of war framework, positioning it as the predominant form of sexual violence during conflict.[26] Rwanda is often cited as an example of how rape is strategically weaponized against vulnerable women to destroy an ethnic group. Within this narrative, alternative victim and perpetrator identities are not considered. Furthermore, the motives for sexual violence during war are minimized to the destruction of women's bodies for political ends, erasing the existence of variation in motives, perpetrators, and victims. This understanding of the Rwandan genocide continues to foster animosity between ethnic groups, and even between women and men. Tutsi women are the only ones receiving recognition, although this recognition rarely comes with "justice," as women are often ostracized from their communities or even killed for speaking out. Additionally, international tribunals focus more on securing convictions and issuing sentences than on providing remedies for victims and their communities. The weapon of war framework centers on the perpetrator, their power, and their potential punishment as the ultimate goal. Even recognized victims are left retraumatized and punished socially, emotionally, and materially—through stigma, exclusion, and the lack of long-term support or reparations.

As of December 2008, only five men have been convicted of rape (Akayesu, Bagasora, Gacumbitsi, Muhimana, and Semanza) at the ICTR. Eight men pleaded guilty before the ICTR, five of whom were charged with sexual violence crimes, but these charges were dropped in exchange for guilty pleas on other counts. This suggests that sexual violence was treated as secondary to other crimes, revealing how it was deprioritized in the hierarchy of criminal behavior—even when formally acknowledged in indictments. The prosecution and conviction rate for sexual violence at the ICTR remains low, even though references to rape and other sexual violence appear in many judgments and indictments. Doris E. Buss highlights the paradox of the "hyper-visibility" and "invisibility" of sexual violence. While numerous judgments acknowledge the systematic rape of Tutsi women as fact, individual cases of rape remain absent from the record of convictions (Buss 2009). Rape as an instrumental weapon of war became globally recognized, but it is only associated with the discourse surrounding the "bestiality of the Hutu extremists who masterminded and committed the genocide" (Mibenge 2008, 147). Individual stories of rape, remedies, and justice for victims have been ignored. Furthermore, the tribunal, in defining and prosecuting crimes such as genocide, has created a record of the Rwandan genocide that depicts one side (Hutu men) using their bodies (their penis) as instruments against their enemy (Tutsi women). This construction reinforces the idea of women as "inherently rapable" and confined to polarized sides (Marcus 1992, 338).

Conclusion: A New Gendered Lens to Understanding Rape during War

​​Conflicts are multilayered and complex, and no single framework can fully explain their dynamics. In this case study of Rwanda, a review of over 4,000 ICTR witness testimonies revealed that multiple explanatory theories were necessary to understand the diverse ways sexual violence manifested. Ethnic hatred was supported by the majority of victims being Tutsi. Opportunism and greed were evidenced by the presence of Tutsi perpetrators and civilian actors, as well as the existence of Hutu victims. Combatant socialization was supported by the predominance of gang rapes over single-perpetrator rapes, in conjunction with instances of forced recruitment. Sexual violence during war should be viewed as the product of multiple theories and explanations, with recognition of the possibility of its absence in some cases. The prevailing "weapon of war" framework, which positions sexual violence as a gendered crime, should be reconceptualized to better understand how and why sexual violence is inflicted on specific bodies for particular purposes.

Rather than relying on reductive binaries, a more expansive understanding of gendered violence is needed—one that analyzes how patriarchal norms structure the enactment of violence across all sexed bodies. This approach draws on the concept of gender performativity (Butler 2016). Social constructions of gender and their connection to sexed bodies are maintained by the narrow focus of the weapon of war framework. A more nuanced understanding is necessary to explain why sexual violence is carried out differently across bodies, driven by the same patriarchal gender norms. For example, men are more likely to experience mutilative forms of sexual violence that do not involve penetration by a male perpetrator, due to societal standards that would label the perpetrator and victim as homosexual if penetration occurred. Consequently, the violence is enacted in what the perpetrator perceives as the "only acceptable way." Sexual violence against men can achieve the same objectives as violence against women. In the dataset, there were multiple instances of male victims being castrated and their genitalia displayed publicly. This act not only destroyed the victims’ manhood and masculinity but also instilled fear within the community by showcasing the humiliation of a "protector," furthering the political goals of ethnic cleansing. Similarly, it is crucial to recognize female perpetrators as operating in a masculinized fashion, potentially driven by the same motivations as male perpetrators.

There must be a focus on how social constructions of masculinity and femininity are upheld by the weapon of war framework, which narrowly centers on state sovereignty, security, and power. Furthermore, the scope of rape in war should be expanded to include the private sphere, allowing for an individual-level analysis that emphasizes victims' agency—particularly women’s—to understand the long-term consequences of systematic rape and the threats to individual security following conflict resolution, rather than solely focusing on state security. Mainstream conceptualizations of rape in war often essentialize men's and women's experiences, failing to capture the complexities and layers of sexual violence. Additionally, men's experiences as perpetrators and women's experiences as victims are often universalized, overlooking the various intersections of identity. This narrow framing reinforces gendered assumptions and limits the capacity of legal and humanitarian responses to adequately recognize all victims and forms of harm.

As demonstrated in the ICTR’s approach to prosecuting sexual violence, reliance on rigid gender and ethnic binaries excluded male victims, overlooked female perpetrators, and erased incidents that fell outside of a strategic ethnic violence narrative. Reframing conflict-related sexual violence to account for this complexity is not only analytically necessary—it is essential for ensuring that international tribunals deliver justice to all survivors.

Moreover, shifting away from the weapon of war framework creates new possibilities for prevention. By understanding sexual violence as shaped by opportunism, group dynamics, gender norms, and context-specific motives—not only as a strategic military tool—interventions can be better tailored to disrupt the conditions that allow such violence to occur. This includes strengthening accountability within armed groups, addressing stigma that silences male and non-binary victims, and incorporating survivor-centered approaches into peacebuilding, demobilization, and post-conflict reconstruction efforts. Prevention begins with recognition—and recognition requires a more inclusive framework.

*This article was edited by Caroline Sager (Princeton University) and Pallavi Baraya (Geneva Graduate Institute).

About the Author

Sydney Leigh Smith (she/her) is a PhD student in Security Studies at Princeton University, co-advised by Kim Lane Scheppele and Barbara Buckinx. Her research focuses on Conflict-Related Sexual Violence (CRSV), international human rights, and humanitarian law. She holds a B.A. in International Studies and Women’s and Gender Studies from the University of Michigan and an M.A. in Human Rights Studies from Columbia University. Sydney has served as Lead Researcher at the Clooney Foundation for Justice and as a Legal Researcher and Advisor at the African Court on Human and Peoples’ Rights. She is currently a Legal and Policy Consultant with the Democratic Governance and Rights Unit at the University of Cape Town and holds fellowships at Princeton’s Liechtenstein Institute on Self-Determination. Outside of academia, she volunteers with Planned Parenthood of Greater New York, The Sato Project, and Liberty in North Korea, and lives with her two rescue dogs, Baby and Barnaby.

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AI Statement

No generative AI tools were used in the research, analysis, or drafting of this article. The content is based on original research, independent analysis, and scholarly engagement with existing literature. Any digital tools used were limited to standard word processing, citation management, and grammar-checking software.

February 19, 2025
Sydney Leigh Smith

Notes

1. The International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yogoslavia was established in 1993 and has indicted 161 individuals and sentenced 91 for serious violations of international humanitarian law committed in the territory of the former Yugoslavia. This tribunal was the first in international criminal law to convict rape as a form of torture and for sexual enslavement as a crime against humanity (ICTY 2021).

2. The International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda was established in 1994 and has indicted 93 individuals and sentenced 62 for serious violations of international humanitarian law committed in the territory of Rwanda (ICTR 2021). This tribunal was the first to recognize rape as a means of perpetrating genocide. Additionally, the case of Pauline Nyiramasuhuko is the first time in international criminal law that a woman was indicted for rape as a crime against humanity (ICTR 2021). 

3. Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court, July 17, 1998, U.N. Doc. A/CONF.183/9, https://www.icc-cpi.int/sites/default/files/RS-Eng.pdf. 

4. As defined by the International Criminal Court (ICC), the perpetrator invaded the body of a person by conduct resulting in penetration, however slight, of any part of the body of the victim or of the perpetrator with a sexual organ, or of the anal or genital opening of the victim with any object or any other part of the body. The invasion was committed by force, or by threat of force or coercion, such as that caused by fear of violence, duress, detention, psychological oppression, or abuse of power, against such person or another person, or by taking advantage of a coercive environment, or the invasion was committed against a person incapable of giving genuine consent. See International Criminal Court, Elements of Crimes, U.N. Doc. PCNICC/2000/1/Add.2 (2000). Article 8 (2)(e).) 

5. As defined by the International Criminal Court (ICC), the perpetrator exercised any or all of the powers attaching to the right of ownership over one or more persons, such as by purchasing, selling, lending or bartering such a person or persons, or by imposing on them a similar deprivation of liberty. The perpetrator caused such person or persons to engage in one or more acts of a sexual nature. See International Criminal Court, Elements of Crimes, U.N. Doc. PCNICC/2000/1/Add.2 (2000). Article 8 (2)(e).) 

6. As defined by the International Criminal Court (ICC), the perpetrator confined one or more women forcibly made pregnant, with the intent of affecting the ethnic composition of any population or carrying out other grave violations of international law. See International Criminal Court, Elements of Crimes, U.N. Doc. PCNICC/2000/1/Add.2 (2000). Article 8 (2)(e).) 

7. Security Council resolution 1325 (2000); Security Council resolution 1820 (2008); Security Council resolution 1888 (2009); Security Council resolution 1889 (2009); Security Council resolution 1960 (2010); Security Council resolution 2106 (2013); Security Council resolution 2122 (2013).

8. See UN Action Against Sexual Violence in Conflict, a UN system-wide initiative established in 2007 to prevent and respond to conflict-related sexual violence through joint advocacy, coordination, and survivor-centered programming. https://www.un.org/sexualviolenceinconflict/about-us/un-action/. 

9. See UN Women, “UNiTE to End Violence against Women,” https://www.unwomen.org/en/what-we-do/ending-violence-against-women/unite.

10. See United Nations, “Reports of the Secretary-General on Conflict-Related Sexual Violence,” https://www.un.org/sexualviolenceinconflict/digital-library/reports/sg-reports/. 

11. Sexual violence constitutes a crime against humanity when it is committed as part of a widespread or systematic attack directed against any civilian population, with knowledge of the attack. This includes rape, sexual slavery, enforced prostitution, forced pregnancy, enforced sterilization, and any other form of sexual violence of comparable gravity. See International Criminal Court, Elements of Crimes, U.N. Doc. PCNICC/2000/1/Add.2 (2000), Article 7(1)(g).  

12. Sexual violence constitutes a war crime when committed in the context of and associated with an armed conflict. This includes acts such as rape, sexual slavery, enforced prostitution, forced pregnancy, enforced sterilization, and any other form of sexual violence of comparable gravity, targeting civilians or those hors de combat (out of the fight), and committed as part of the conduct of hostilities. See U.N. Doc. PCNICC/2000/1/Add.2 (2000), Article 8(2)(e)(vi). 

13. Sexual violence can constitute an act of genocide when committed with the specific intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnic, racial, or religious group. This includes acts such as causing serious bodily or mental harm through rape, sexual mutilation, forced impregnation, or other forms of sexual violence that contribute to the group’s destruction. See International Criminal Court, Elements of Crimes, U.N. Doc. PCNICC/2000/1/Add.2 (2000), Article 6(b).

14. See United Nations International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda, The Genocide, https://unictr.irmct.org/en/genocide.

15. To enhance accuracy and efficiency in coding, testimonies were analyzed using targeted keyword searches—such as “rap,” “castra,” “prostit*,” and “breast”—along with close reading to understand contextual meaning. Each testimony was reviewed for both direct and indirect witness accounts, and care was taken to document the political, temporal, and geographic specificity of each incident.*

16. This study categorizes testimony as (1) direct witness, referring to an eyewitness account of an event, and (2) indirect witness, referring to accounts of events the witness did not personally observe. Witnesses include family members, members of armed groups, other victims, and other individuals.

17. Time was coded according to four dimensions: (1) year, (2) start date/end date (day-month-year), (3) significance of timing (e.g., political context), and (4) whether the act occurred pre- or post-mortem.

18. Each event was coded as either (1) a single occurrence, referring to one act or a series of related acts within a narrow time frame, or (2) multiple occurrences, referring to acts of sexual violence that took place over an extended period. Multiple victims do not necessarily indicate multiple occurrences.

19. Location was coded at two levels: (1) specific location (e.g., detention center) and (2) broader location (e.g., Kigali).

20. Perpetrators were coded as members of organized armed groups, including state forces (e.g., Rwandan Armed Forces), rebel groups (e.g., Rwandan Patriotic Front), and pro-government militias (e.g., Impuzamugambi, Interahamwe, Local Defense Force, and the Zero Network). Both direct and indirect perpetration were included, with indirect perpetrators defined as those who ordered or facilitated acts of sexual violence without committing them physically. Actor variables were coded for both perpetrators and victims, including quantity, age, sex, sexuality, ethnicity, religion, and political affiliation. Special status actors (e.g., presidential guards, border police, interrogators) and named organizations were also recorded.

21. Victim-specific variables included refugee status, where identifiable, in addition to broader actor variables such as age, sex, ethnicity, and political affiliation.

22. Targeting was inferred based on coded variables such as ethnicity, sex, political affiliation, and organizational status of the victim. These variables helped determine whether sexual violence was directed at individuals due to group identity, perceived allegiance, or other markers of vulnerability.

23. This study includes the following nine forms of sexual violence: (1) rape, (2) sexual slavery, (3) forced prostitution, (4) forced pregnancy, (5) forced sterilization/abortion, (6) sexual mutilation, (7) sexual torture, (8) gang rape, and (9) sexual violence by proxy. 

24. Sexual violence is defined as: an act of a sexual nature against one or more persons or caused such person or persons to engage in an act of a sexual nature by force, or by threat of force or oppression or advantage of a coercion, such as that caused by fear of violence, duress, detention, psychological abuse of power, against such person or persons or another person, or by taking coercive environment or such person’s or persons’ incapacity to give genuine consent. Proxy is defined as: a person authorized to act on behalf of another. See International Criminal Court, Elements of Crimes, U.N. Doc. PCNICC/2000/1/Add.2 (2000). Article 8 (2)(e). 

25. Pre-mortem sexual violence refers to acts committed immediately before death (e.g., rape prior to execution), while post-mortem violence includes acts committed on the body after death (e.g., mutilation of genitals).

26. The weapon of war framework is frequently referenced in a variety of modern conflicts, including in Ukraine, Sudan, the Democratic Republic of Congo, the Central African Republic, and the Israel-Gaza conflict. 

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