Over the past two years, I have been invited to speak at several virtual events on domestic violence. This has partly been as a reaction to the collective trauma experienced whenever we are overwhelmed by such unfortunate incidents. It is also partly because of the prevalence of the issue. For example, in 2020 in Trinidad and Tobago, 41 women lost their lives to violence with 19 of them being at the hands of men who were supposed to love them. So, there is no surprise that more and more people want to discuss the issue.
While some people cynically rubbish these events as useless talk shops, I believe that it is necessary for us to carve out spaces for reflection and discourse, especially as COVID-19 has aggravated conditions precedent to domestic violence. I also agree that it should not end there, and these conversations should spark further action, on the personal and institutional levels. They are essential checkpoints in a broader process of change.
Nevertheless, the caveat attached to the invitations has often been “to hear the male’s perspective” or “to get a man’s view” while the justification has always been “to bring balance” to the conversation. These presentations have taken several formats such as roundtables, panel discussions, interviews and lectures, and some target pre-determined categories such as youth, men, and faith groups, and others are open to the public. And while these conversations have been taking place for decades, hosted by women and women’s rights organisations, there is an air of novelty when a man takes the podium. With bated breath and exaggerated appreciation, the audience waits for the balance that the male perspective is anticipated to bring.
Spoiler alert!!! There is no such thing as a male perspective on domestic violence. Any perspective that does not analyse domestic violence from a human rights standpoint should not be given credence nor publicity, regardless of the gender of the person offering it. Indeed, violence against women is a violation of human rights and should be acknowledged as such from the onset. Any man who has done the legwork will articulate that domestic violence is both a cause and consequence of gender inequality. He will speak of patriarchy as a system of male domination both in public and private spheres. Connections will be made between how boys are socialised and how violence or the threat of violence is used to establish and maintain male identities centred on power and control. There will be an uncompromising reliance on data from credible sources without flinching when patchy counterarguments, such as men being equal victims, are thrown into the pot. The male perspective will clarify that while domestic violence against men is a relevant topic, it cannot be compared to the systemic experience of violence and aggression that women face daily.
Depending on the speaker, you may encounter an overflowing of academic jargon, or you may hear simpler language conveying that domestic violence is any behaviour meant to gain power and control over one’s partner. The male perspective will be quick to debunk the myth that domestic violence is caused when men cannot control their anger. Instead, there will be the unequivocal assertion that domestic violence is learned behaviour and is intentional. In essence, the credible male perspective will be feminist informed, gender transformative, human rights-based, intersectional and accountable to women and girls.
When we seek out the male perspective, there is an inherent assumption, whether conscious or not, that men have something different or better to offer than what women have been saying for decades. A wealth of research can be found, spanning centuries and stretching across every corner of the earth. Even across the Caribbean, for donkey years, women have been speaking and writing and researching and organising and protesting and doing the painstaking work to advance social justice. This is not to say that men cannot be allies. But allyship begins with our realisation that the music did not only start playing when we joined the party.
From early, patriarchy indoctrinates us with the notion of the superiority of masculinity over femininity. And this is constantly reinforced by the men and women in our lives, in religion, at school, in music, in movies and practically everywhere we turn. And it is not like we are passive recipients either. We also bargain and accept the costs and benefits of a system that privileges men over women. Without a second thought, we can easily see ourselves as a saviour, our actions as heroic and our opinions as prime expertise. But, in contrast, the credible male perspective must be humble enough to be accountable yet substantial enough to be countable. By so doing, we can add our voices in true solidarity to end domestic violence.
And then there are those men who are eager to speak from the top of their heads with little or no knowledge, only capable of rehashing personal experiences, just louder and louder each time. But that is a single topic for another time.
Kevin Liverpool is the administrator of the Caribbean Male Action Network (CariMAN), a regional network of individuals and organisations working to transform masculinities and engage men and boys to promote gender equality and end violence against women and girls. He can be reached at carimansecretariat@gmail.com