INTRODUCTION
When addressing armed conflict and violence, it is also necessary to analyze how existing gender norms and patriarchal power structures shape the ways in which people engage with these issues. According to the Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom, gender-based violence (GBV) is a form of violence directed against an individual based on their sex, gender, or socially constructed gender roles assigned to them (WILPF, 2022). The primary targets of gender-based violence are women and members of the LGBTQIAP+ community, which does not preclude its potential impacts on cisgender heterosexual men, even though marginalized groups are disproportionately affected.
During wars (external link), gender-based violence can manifest in various forms, such as rape, sexual slavery, physical, emotional, and sexual assault, as well as genital mutilation (WILPF, 2022). Thus, GBV is a process resulting from unequal and hierarchical power relations in society, which disproportionately affect different social groups, especially in contexts of armed conflict. Within this scope, it is understood that sexual violence can be employed systematically as a weapon of war directed, in particular, against women.
In this context, this article seeks to contextualize rape in armed conflict as a historical and recurring phenomenon, understanding this process not as a collateral byproduct of war, but as a strategy that can be deliberately employed by belligerent parties. From this premise, the following research question arises: how do different forms of sexual violence in armed conflict reveal the strategic nature of rape as a weapon of war? It is argued that this strategic nature manifests when sexual violence is employed systematically and deliberately to produce effects that transcend individual violence, functioning as an instrument of terror, domination, population and territorial control, and, in certain contexts, the disruption or destruction of groups. Thus, rape is not understood as a practice that is necessarily homogeneous across different conflicts, but rather as a form of violence that can assume distinct functions depending on the political, military, and social dynamics of each context.
To address this question, this study analyzes academic literature on the conceptualizations of rape and sexual violence as systematic weapons of war, examining three historical cases: the sexual exploitation of women in the system known as “comfort women,” organized in the context of the Japanese Empire; the sexual violence committed during the Bosnian wars; and the use of rape during the Rwandan genocide. To this end, qualitative research of a bibliographic and documentary nature is conducted through a comparative analysis of the three selected cases. The analysis is guided by four dimensions: (1) the systematic and organized nature of sexual violence; (2) its use to generate terror and domination; (3) its relationship with population and territorial control; and (4) its contribution to the disruption or destruction of groups. These dimensions make it possible to identify recurring elements across the cases without assuming that sexual violence performs identical functions in different conflicts.
The first section following this introduction presents the theoretical framework on rape as a weapon of war, discussing the relationship between sexual violence, gender, power, and strategies of domination. Next, the three selected cases are analyzed according to the proposed dimensions, seeking to identify convergences and differences in their strategic deployment. Subsequently, advances in international accountability and remaining limitations in addressing sexual violence in armed conflicts are discussed. Finally, the article reviews the main findings of the analysis and their implications for understanding rape as a weapon of war.
RAPE AS A WEAPON OF WAR: THEORETICAL PERSPECTIVES
As Passos and Losurdo point out, “as ancient as war itself is the sexual violation that follows it, revealing itself as a veritable military strategy widely tolerated and encouraged, making women its primary victims” (2017, p. 154). From this perspective, it becomes clear that sexual violence in armed conflict is not a recent phenomenon, but rather a recurrent historical practice. Such an understanding breaks with the notion that rape is an inevitable byproduct of war by revealing its structural character and its integration into the power dynamics permeating conflict, disproportionately affecting women and children.
Azevedo (2025) characterizes rape as a weapon of war as the systematic use of sexual violence as a strategic instrument in contexts of armed conflict, whether international or non-international. In light of this, it is crucial to distinguish between opportunistic sexual violence—which occurs in an unplanned manner in contexts marked by impunity and a lack of control—and strategic sexual violence, which is encouraged, tolerated, or directly ordered by political and military leadership. According to Claudia Card (1996), in various contexts, rape was not only permitted but also encouraged by superiors as a means of fostering cohesion among soldiers, functioning as an instance of “camaraderie.” This distinction shows that the occurrence of sexual violence in an armed conflict does not, in itself, necessarily determine its strategic nature. Rather, it is the presence of elements such as systematicity, intentionality, organization, and embeddedness within broader relations of power and domination that allows it to be characterized as a strategic practice (Azevedo, 2025).
In this sense, it is necessary to deconstruct the notion that sexual crimes in wartime are committed by deviant or pathologically abnormal individuals, given that perpetrators are, for the most part, socially integrated subjects whose actions represent not individual deviations, but rather the expression of a broader symbolic order of power (Passos; Losurdo, 2017). As such, sexual violence reflects and reproduces social and cultural structures that naturalize domination and subjugation, especially in contexts shaped by gender hierarchies. As Susan Brownmiller (1975, p. 15) points out, rape can be understood as “a conscious process of intimidation” by which women are kept in a permanent state of vulnerability and fear. Thus, it is possible to observe how terror and domination constitute central dimensions of the strategic use of sexual violence.
Accordingly, rape in war is deeply linked to the social construction of masculinity and the exercise of power. The appropriation of the female body is not limited to physical violence; rather, it operates as a mechanism for reaffirming masculine identity and exerting control over the other. This is a form of violence that, beyond being instrumental, possesses an expressive character, functioning as a demonstration of absolute power. From this perspective, rape constitutes a public demonstration of power and domination, in which the female body is appropriated as a territory of control, as Segato illustrates when stating that:
In the shelter of the domestic space, the man abuses the women under his dependency because he can do so—that is, because they already form part of the territory he controls; the aggressor who appropriates the female body in an open, public space does so because he must, in order to show that he can. (Segato, 2005, p. 275)
From this perspective, rape as a weapon of war can, in certain contexts, also take the form of a genocidal practice, utilized as a mechanism for destroying groups—whether through public humiliation, family disruption, or forced pregnancy. As established by Article 2, paragraph 2, of the Statute of the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR), genocide encompasses acts such as killing and causing serious bodily or mental harm when “[...] committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group” (International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda, 1994, art. 2). In this sense, although legal protection is directed at the group, it necessarily extends to the individuals who comprise it, since “there can only be destruction of the group if the individual who is part of it is destroyed” (Lippi, 2014, p. 294).
Thus, insofar as women are socially constructed as the biological and social reproducers of the community, the violation of their bodies acquires a meaning that goes beyond individual violence, constituting a symbolic form of domination and collective annihilation. As Rita Segato (2016) points out, war transforms women's bodies into a territory for the inscription of patriarchal power and military sovereignty. In this context, sexual violence takes on a deeply strategic character, since, beyond direct violence, it involves practices such as forced pregnancies and mutilations, forming part of a broader project of group destruction.
Thus, by recognizing the systematic and deliberate nature of sexual violence in armed conflicts, it is possible to understand rape as a tool employed in war strategies to produce effects that transcend individual violence, affecting entire communities and groups. These functions may involve the production of terror and domination, population and territorial control, and, in certain contexts, the disruption or destruction of groups. As António Guterres, the 9th UN Secretary-General, highlights, this is a devastating form of violence that not only affects individuals, but “destroys the social fabric of communities” (Carloto e Amaral, 2025, p. 109), underscoring its long-lasting, structural, and intergenerational impacts.
THE STRATEGIC DIMENSION OF SEXUAL VIOLENCE IN ARMED CONFLICT: AN ANALYSIS OF THREE HISTORICAL CASES
In order to demonstrate the systematic and organized nature of rape in armed conflict and its diverse strategic functions, this section analyzes three historical cases that allow for observing sexual violence through the four analytical dimensions presented previously: (1) the systematicity and organization of sexual violence; (2) its use to produce terror and domination; (3) its relationship with population and territorial control; and (4) its contribution to the disruption or destruction of groups. While they do not represent the entirety of occurrences of sexual violence in conflict settings, these cases illustrate different objectives and dynamics attributed to rape as a weapon of war. Furthermore, an effort was made to encompass a degree of geographical diversity, bringing together examples from different continents, such as Africa, Europe, and Asia, in order to demonstrate the global nature of these practices.
The first case dates back to the Second World War and concerns the practice of systematic sexual exploitation promoted by the Japanese Empire. The structuring of the system of the so-called “Comfort Women”, as Marcello points out:
This was a deliberate and organized practice since 1910, involving the displacement and confinement of women (the vast majority Korean, but also Chinese, Filipina, and, in smaller numbers, Japanese or Koreans residing in Japan due to colonization, among others) so that they would be targets of sexual abuse by Japanese soldiers. (Marcello, 2021, p. 39).
The characterization presented by the author highlights the first analytical dimension of this research: the systematicity and organization of sexual violence. The displacement and confinement of women were not isolated practices, but structured mechanisms to enable their sexual exploitation by Japanese soldiers. The existence of a structure specifically designed for this purpose allows us to understand that sexual violence was embedded in the dynamics of the conflict and relied on organized mechanisms for its maintenance.
According to Marcello (2021), the structuring of this practice was related to the need to prevent the spread of sexually transmitted diseases (STDs) among Japanese soldiers. In this sense, by imprisoning women and subjecting them to forced confinement, a control structure was created that, according to the author, sought to ensure that the men who had sexual intercourse with them were not infected, as well as to prevent soldiers from resorting to public and uncontrolled rapes that could spark revolt among the population. Sexual violence, therefore, was not only practiced systematically, but organized according to interests associated with the maintenance of the military structure. Yoshimi (2002) notes that the number of women violated by this system ranges between 50,000 and 200,000, with exact figures being difficult to determine due to Japanese lack of transparency and insufficient available documentation regarding the war crimes committed.
Most of the violated women, many of them very young, were captured through false advertisements promising pay for domestic work. The use of false promises, combined with the capture and confinement of the victims, demonstrates the presence of coercive mechanisms employed to ensure the functioning of the system. Furthermore, the justification that this practice aimed at the well-being of Japanese soldiers shows how female sexual exploitation was incorporated into a logic that prioritized the needs of the military structure and subordinated women's bodies to the interests of the men involved in the conflict. In this sense, the evidence presented indicates that authorities were not only aware of the practice, but also participated in its organization and enabled the systematic capture and exploitation of women. Sexual violence, therefore, assumed a structural dimension in this context, linked to military organization and the maintenance of its needs during the conflict.
The second case analyzes the rape camps established in the former Yugoslavia, a scenario triggered by the collapse of the state and struggles for self-determination. After Bosnia and Herzegovina declared independence in 1992, the conflict intensified, while the goal of ethnic cleansing manifested itself through massacres and expulsions of Bosnian Muslims and Croats. In this context, the practice of rape was characterized as
[…] a strategy used by Serbian forces against the population, resulting in the creation of camps targeted exclusively toward this practice. It is estimated that between 20,000 and 50,000 women suffered sexual assault in the conflict in the former Yugoslavia (Oliveira; Lima Júnior, 2019, p.108).
The existence of spaces specifically intended for the practice of sexual violence demonstrates, in this case, an even more explicit dimension of organized violence. Here, the systematicity of the violence appears articulated with a broader objective of persecution and ethnic cleansing, indicating that rape was not merely an act of violence directed individually at the victims, but could be integrated into strategies employed against a given population as a whole.
Schools, motels, sawmills, and private homes were transformed into organized rape camps and, as Peres (2011) points out, in these environments many women were intentionally impregnated, exposing a dimension of violence related to the control of reproduction and the lineage of groups. In this context, sexual violence was not restricted to assaults against individual victims, but could be employed as a mechanism of interference in reproduction and in the composition of populations affected by ethnic cleansing.
In a climate of desperation, many women underwent attempted terminations of pregnancy under precarious conditions, posing serious risks to the pregnant women's health. At the same time, children conceived through rape faced social exclusion, frequently being given up for adoption. Thus, the effects of violence went beyond the moment of the assault, reaching reproduction, community relations, and subsequent generations, also aligning this case with the fourth analytical dimension, related to the disruption or destruction of groups.
The third and final case concerns the 1994 Rwandan Genocide, marked by the persecution of the Tutsi group, which resulted in more than 800,000 deaths (Treis; Vicente Morais, 2021). In this context, as Treis and Vicente Morais (2021) point out, between 250,000 and 500,000 women were raped in a systematic and often spectacularized manner, with the aim of demoralizing, humiliating, and inflicting terror upon an entire community through sexual violation. This formulation highlights the second analytical dimension of this research: the use of sexual violence to produce terror and domination, situated within a broader structure of persecution and extermination and contributing to the subjugation and disruption of social relations.
The organized dimension of genocide is also highlighted by Pinto (2012), who states that the genocide “[...] was not the result of a weak or failed state, but rather of a strong state and extremely well organized in administrative terms” (Pinto, 2012, p. 10). This characteristic allows for an understanding of sexual violence within a broader structure of persecution, in which the authorities and the media, especially radio, played an important role in mobilizing violence against the Tutsi population.
The social and intergenerational effects observed in the case of Rwanda allow for the identification of the third and fourth analytical dimensions: the dimension of population and territorial control and that of the contribution of sexual violence to the disruption or destruction of groups. As the Rwandan writer Scholastique Mukasonga describes in her autobiographical book “Baratas” (2018):
[…] mothers trembled with anguish at bringing into the world a child who would become an inyenzi, who would be subject to humiliation, persecution, to being murdered with impunity. We were tired and, at times, gave ourselves over to the desire to die. Yes, we were ready to accept death, but not the one dealt to us. We were inyenzis; it was enough to step on us as one did with cockroaches, all at once. But they took pleasure in our agony. It was prolonged by unbearable tortures, for pleasure. There was pleasure in cutting victims alive, disemboweling women, ripping out the fetus.” (Mukasonga, 2018, p. 99)
The consequences of mass rapes included physical symptoms, such as back pain and gynecological injuries, and psychological implications, such as depression, post-traumatic stress, and constant fear of further persecution and violations. When addressing the case of Rwanda, it is also necessary to emphasize the social and cultural factor linked to virginity, which represents, in Rwandan patriarchal society, the distinction between being a girl belonging to her father and a woman belonging to a man. In this context, “the fact that these young women were no longer virgins meant that they were not good candidates for wives, which represents a very important aspect of women’s lives in Rwanda” (Treis; Vicente Morais, 2021, p. 120), often resulting in the isolation of the assaulted women and a lack of acceptance by the community. It is also noteworthy that children born of rape were considered impure and identified as children of the enemy, demonstrating that the effects of violence could reach community relations and endure across generations.
Thus, the comparative analysis of the three cases shows that the four proposed dimensions do not manifest uniformly, but may overlap depending on the context of the conflict. The systematic nature and organization of sexual violence appear particularly evident in the “Comfort Women” system and in the structuring of rape camps in the former Yugoslavia, although they are also present in Rwanda. The use of sexual violence to produce terror and domination takes on particular relevance in the Rwandan case, in which rapes were employed in conjunction with practices of humiliation and persecution of the Tutsi population, but it can also be observed in the other cases through the subordination and coercion exerted over the victims. Meanwhile, the relationship between sexual violence and population and territorial control is especially observed in the former Yugoslavia, given the link between rape, forced pregnancy, ethnic cleansing, and the expulsion of populations, but it is also visible in the case of Rwanda. Finally, the effects on community relations, reproduction, and subsequent generations demonstrate the contribution of sexual violence to the disruption or destruction of groups, a dimension particularly pronounced in the case of Rwanda, but also in the former Yugoslavia.
Thus, the analyzed cases do not indicate a single function of sexual violence in armed conflicts, but rather reveal its capacity to be incorporated into different projects of power. The analyzed cases reveal that its strategic use depends on the characteristics and objectives present in each conflict, potentially involving organization, domination, terror, population control, and the disruption of groups simultaneously. The common element among the cases lies, therefore, in the incorporation of sexual violence into broader dynamics of power, causing rape to transcend the dimension of individual violence and assume a strategic function within the conflict. Identifying these different forms of strategic use of sexual violence also allows for an understanding of the need for legal and institutional responses aimed at holding its perpetrators accountable. The next section will address the international responses that sought to mitigate the consequences of these practices, as well as their limitations and contemporary challenges.
CHALLENGES AND LIMITS OF INTERNATIONAL ACCOUNTABILITY
The analyzed cases demonstrated that sexual violence in armed conflicts can be incorporated into broader strategies of terror, domination, population and territorial control, and, in certain contexts, the disruption or destruction of groups. In this sense, the progressive recognition of these practices by International Law represents not only a normative advance, but also a transformation in the way sexual violence is legally understood in wartime contexts. Whereas rape was previously often treated as a secondary consequence of conflicts, its incorporation into International Criminal Law began to recognize that these practices can constitute instruments of persecution and systematic violence. From the ad hoc Tribunals for the former Yugoslavia and Rwanda, important efforts were undertaken by the international community to hold individuals criminally accountable for violations committed on a large scale, contributing to
the formal recognition of rape and other forms of sexual violence as autonomous international crimes, capable of constituting, depending on the context, a war crime, a crime against humanity, and, under certain circumstances, an act of genocide. (Azevedo, 2025, p. 71).
Thus, the experience of the International Tribunals highlights an important shift in the understanding of sexual violence, as accountability came to consider not only the violence committed against the individual victim, but also its potential inclusion in broader projects of persecution, domination, and group destruction.
However, legal recognition did not translate, in a proportionate manner, into effective accountability. Both the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY) of 1993 and the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR) of 1994 faced severe practical limitations in holding perpetrators accountable for sexual crimes, as evidenced by the discrepancy between the extent of documented violations and the number of convictions actually secured. In this context, international justice demonstrates systemic limitations in preventing, investigating, and prosecuting these crimes. Such limitations stem, to a large extent, from the very political nature of international institutions, which depend on the cooperation of sovereign states—often directly or indirectly involved in the violations—in addition to facing difficulties related to the gathering of evidence in cases of sexual violence, especially due to its often invisible nature.
This gap between legal recognition and effective accountability is particularly significant when considering the strategic nature of sexual violence itself. If rape can be deliberately employed to produce terror, domination, or the disruption of communities, the absence of accountability does not constitute merely a failure subsequent to the violence, but can contribute to maintaining the conditions that allow for its continuity. Thus, impunity represents one of the main contemporary challenges in addressing sexual violence in wartime contexts.
As the United Nations recognizes, “it is estimated that for every reported case, 10 to 20 cases go unreported” (ONU, 2024). This reality is sustained by structural and cultural factors, as underreporting—often marked by shame, fear, and distrust of institutions—compromises the gathering of evidence and the progress of proceedings, while the fragility of national judicial systems and the absence of adequate reparation policies limit access to justice.
Underreporting also demonstrates that the scale of sexual violence exceeds what can be measured through judicial proceedings. As Pramila Patten, Special Representative of the UN Secretary-General on Sexual Violence in Conflict, pointed out in a report presented to the Security Council in 2024, “wartime sexual violence is chronically underreported and historically hidden” (Andi, 2024). The difficulty of reporting is related not only to the absence of institutional mechanisms, but also to the social conditions in which survivors find themselves. According to Patten, “for every survivor who comes forward, many others are silenced by social pressures, stigma, insecurity, scarce services, and limited prospects for justice” (UN, 2024). Thus, the very difficulty of making such violence visible constitutes an obstacle to accountability and contributes to the persistence of its effects.
Impunity produces consequences that extend beyond the legal realm. It undermines trust in institutions, perpetuates the stigmatization of victims, hinders collective reconstruction processes, and can contribute to maintaining the hierarchies of gender and power that permeate armed conflicts. In this sense, the absence of accountability should not be understood merely as a failure to punish perpetrators, but also in relation to the effects it produces on victims, their communities, and post-conflict reconstruction processes. As stated by the United Nations in the 2023 Conflict-Related Sexual Violence Report of the United Nations Secretary-General, “Impunity for conflict-related sexual violence remained the norm” (UN, 2023, p. 13, our translation).
With regard to victims, the challenges become even more evident. The legal recognition of sexual violence as an international crime has not been accompanied by effective reparation mechanisms, contributing to the perpetuation of forms of revictimization. In many cases, survivors face invasive processes in which they are forced to recount their stories repeatedly and have their credibility questioned, revealing what is known as “institutional violence.” When seeking justice, victims may encounter institutional structures that reproduce power relations and practices of victim-blaming, neglect, or suspicion regarding the violence suffered. Special Representative Patten asserts that sexual violence is “the only crime for which society is more prone to blame the victims than the perpetrators themselves” (UN, 2024).
Furthermore, reparation measures frequently fail to address the specificities of sexual violence, falling short of restoring women’s autonomy and remedying the harm endured. As observed in the analyzed cases, the effects of sexual violence can transcend individual experience and reach familial and community relations, producing social and intergenerational consequences. Thus, when these consequences are not accompanied by adequate reparation mechanisms, the post-conflict period may become a continuation of violence, insofar as the victims' suffering is constantly re-enacted by the absence of institutional responses sensitive to gender specificities.
In this sense, it becomes evident that legal recognition alone is not sufficient. As Christine Chinkin (1999, p. 333, cited in Azevedo, 2025, p. 84) points out, “international justice was conceived to punish the men who wage war, not to restore the women who survive it.” Addressing sexual violence in armed conflicts therefore requires not only holding perpetrators accountable, but also establishing reparation mechanisms capable of considering the individual, social, and collective effects produced by these practices. Beyond responding to violence after it occurs, it is necessary to confront the power structures that allow its use and reproduction.
In this regard, it also becomes necessary to advance the formulation of international prevention and peacebuilding policies that integrate a gender perspective into peace and security agendas. The “Women, Peace, and Security” agenda, established by United Nations Security Council Resolution 1325, represents an important step forward in this process, even though its implementation remains limited, primarily due to its reliance on states’ political will and the lack of mechanisms to ensure its enforcement. Thus, a gap persists between the normative commitments made at the international level and their translation into concrete actions domestically.
FINAL CONSIDERATIONS
The analysis developed throughout this article sought to understand how different forms of sexual violence in armed conflicts reveal the strategic nature of rape as a weapon of war. Considering the power relations and gender hierarchies that cut across armed conflicts, it highlights the instrumentalization of female bodies as a mechanism of domination over women and, through them, over their families, communities, and groups. Based on the comparative analysis of the sexual exploitation system of Japan’s so-called “Comfort Women,” the former Yugoslavia, and the Rwandan Genocide, it was possible to demonstrate that rape does not necessarily constitute collateral damage or a spontaneous manifestation of violence in conflicts, but can be systematically incorporated into broader political and military dynamics.
In this sense, the four dimensions employed in the analysis—(1) systematicity and organization, (2) the production of terror and domination, (3) population and territorial control, and (4) contribution to the disruption or destruction of groups—made it possible to identify recurring elements across distinct historical contexts without assuming a single function for rape in situations of war.
In the international arena, the progressive recognition of sexual violence represented a significant transformation in how these practices are understood and held accountable. However, the analysis of international responses demonstrated that legal recognition was not proportionately accompanied by effective mechanisms of accountability, reparation, and prevention. Underreporting, impunity, difficulties in investigation and evidence gathering, and institutional limitations remain obstacles to the realization of justice, while survivors continue to face stigmatization and forms of revictimization.
Thus, the analysis of international responses reinforced the argument developed throughout this article: understanding rape as a weapon of war requires recognizing it not merely as an individual violation, but as a practice that can be incorporated into broader political, military, and social dynamics. It is precisely this strategic dimension that makes accountability particularly complex, since its effects extend beyond the relationship between perpetrator and victim to affect communities, groups, and post-conflict reconstruction processes. Addressing this violence therefore demands the coordination of accountability, reparation, and prevention, in order to bridge the existing gap between the legal recognition of sexual violence and its effective eradication.
It is concluded, therefore, that rape must be understood as a practice whose strategic dimension is linked not to the existence of a universal function across all conflicts, but to its capacity to be deliberately incorporated into different dynamics of power and violence. In this sense, addressing sexual violence in armed conflicts requires articulating accountability, reparation, and prevention, effectively incorporating a gender perspective into peace and security agendas, and placing survivors at the center of justice and reconstruction policies.