Escaping the Patriarchy

SEXUAL ABUSE is not about sex: It’s about power.

At least that’s what Ona, the female protagonist of Miriam Toews’ novel Women Talking, insists in the aftermath of one of the most horrifying incidents of sexual abuse in recent history. Toews’ book is based on true events: Between 2005 and 2009, more than 100 Mennonite women and girls in a remote community in Bolivia were raped at night by what they believed were demons punishing them for their sins. These attacks were perpetrated by men in the community who used modified animal anesthetics to drug and rape the women in their own homes. The victims’ ages ranged from 3 to 65.

Toews’ novel is a fictional account of a conversation between eight of these women. As Toews’ story develops, the rapists are imprisoned, other men of the community have gone to bail them out, and the women—illiterate and unaware of what lies beyond the boundaries of their community—gather to decide between three courses of action: do nothing, stay and fight, or leave. As they debate, their dialogue is infused with theological discussions and surprisingly dark humor. These conversations give insight into the community’s culture, religiosity, and the ways that each woman copes with her personal grief.

Oddly, the voice of August Epp, the meeting’s minutes taker and the only man present, dominates Toews’ narrative. This story about women resisting a patriarchy gives an unexpected amount of attention to a man.

Despite this, the novel is a raw, riveting portrait of a society where authority lacks accountability. The women discuss how the community’s leaders dismissed the attacks as products of the “wild female imagination” and how the leaders referred to the rapists only as “unwelcome visitors” even after the truth was uncovered. The leaders also denied the women counseling because they were unconscious during the attacks.

“The entire colony of Molotschna is built on the foundation of patriarchy,” a woman named Salome says. “[T]he women live out their days as mute, submissive and obedient servants. Animals. Fourteen-year-old boys are expected to give us orders, to determine our fates, to vote on our excommunications, to speak at the burials of our own babies while we remain silent, to interpret the Bible for us, to lead us in worship, to punish us! We are not members ... we are commodities.”

Even more disturbing is the way the community uses religion as a vehicle of oppression. From the outset of their conversation, the women wrestle with having to ask their rapists for forgiveness to ensure their salvation: Will they be damned if they do not reconcile with the men who violated them and their mothers, sisters, and daughters?

“The twin pillars that guard the entrance to the shrine of religion are storytelling and cruelty,” Epp observes while the women offer supplications. For the women, faith denies freedom and requires obedience.

Even so, eight women courageously decide to show up, speak up, and resist a patriarchal system inextricably tied to their faith. Women Talking is a poignant and timely reminder of what happens when religion is corrupted, patriarchy is the status quo, and those in power are not held in check.

“It’s the quest for power ... that is responsible for these attacks,” says Ona, Salome’s sister, “because in their quest for power, they needed to have those they’d have power over, and those people are us.”