Women have played a significant role in the development of Buddhism, yet their contributions remain largely unrecognized in the context of women’s spirituality. Among them, Mahāprajāpatī Gotamī, the Buddha’s aunt and teacher, stands out as the first woman admitted to the Buddhist monastic order. Her monastic engagement raises numerous questions about the role of women in Buddhist history: Who were the first Buddhist women? How did they shape monastic life? What traces of their legacy remain? How do women today contribute to shaping the spiritual landscape within Buddhist communities? This text explores the life and spiritual legacy of Mahāprajāpatī Gotamī and the first women who embarked on the Buddhist path, highlighting their enduring impact on the Buddhist tradition from its beginnings to the present day. Special attention is given to women’s contributions to spiritual practices, emphasizing the significance of their experiences in shaping Buddhist philosophy and spirituality.

Buddha and buddhism

Gautama Siddhartha, the enlightened teacher and founder of Buddhism, was born around 563 BCE in the region that now borders India and Nepal, into a Kshatriya family that had amassed wealth through the rice trade (Rahula, 2000). According to historical sources, Siddhartha was shielded from poverty and suffering due to his privileged status. However, upon encountering the harsh realities of the outside world, he was compelled to abandon his life of luxury and embark on a spiritual quest.

In his pursuit of true understanding, he withdrew to the forest, where he joined ascetics dedicated to fasting, purification, and meditation. By synthesizing insights from the Upanishads, Samkhya, Jainism, and Yoga, he formulated the fundamental principles of Buddhism, known as the Four Noble Truths (Zdravković, 2012: 23). These truths state that (1) life is characterized by suffering (dukkha); (2) the cause of suffering is craving and attachment (samudaya); (3) suffering can be overcome by extinguishing craving (nirodha); and (4) liberation from suffering is attained by following the Noble Eightfold Path (magga), which encompasses right understanding, right action, and meditation (Rahula, 2000). His teachings attracted numerous followers, leading to the formation of the first Buddhist monastic order. The Buddha passed away at the age of eighty, most likely due to food poisoning.

Buddhism can be described as a complex system of thought that functions as a philosophy, a spiritual practice, a way of life, and an institutionalized religion. Over the centuries, it evolved into three main branches: Theravāda, the oldest form of Buddhism, which is based on the Pali Canon and emphasizes monastic life and individual enlightenment; Mahāyāna, which promotes the ideal of the bodhisattva—a being who postpones personal enlightenment to assist others; and Vajrayāna, often associated with Tibetan Buddhism, which incorporates esoteric practices and highlights the role of spiritual teachers (Gombrich, 1988).

Obstacles Did Not Halt the Monastic Mission

Mahāprajāpatī Gotamī (Sanskrit: महाप्रजापति गौतमी; Pali: Mahāpajāpatī Gotamī), also known as Prajāpatī, was the first woman to request ordination directly from Gautama Buddha, making her the first formally ordained female monastic among the bhikkhunī—Buddhist nuns (Chodron, 2024). In addition to her role as the founder of the female monastic order, Mahāprajāpatī Gotamī also played a significant part in the Buddha’s early life as his caregiver. After the passing of his biological mother, Mahāmāyā (Maya), she assumed maternal responsibility for the young Siddhartha Gautama, providing him with a stable and secure family environment during his childhood and upbringing. As the sister of the Buddha’s biological mother, their familial bond was further deepened, leaving lasting spiritual implications (Zdravković, 2012: 23).

A study by Bhikkhu Anālayo, a professor at the Asia-Africa Institute of the University of Hamburg, provides a thorough examination of the founding history of the Buddhist nuns’ order. His book, The Foundation History of the Nuns’ Order (2021), published as part of the Hamburg Buddhist Studies series, builds upon his previous works, such as The Genesis of the Bodhisattva Ideal (2010) and The Dawn of Abhidharma (2014). Anālayo’s analysis of canonical sources in Chinese, Pali, Sanskrit, and Tibetan offers an in-depth exploration of Mahāprajāpatī Gotamī’s monastic journey, emphasizing her determination and commitment.

Mahāprajāpatī Gotamī played a crucial role in advocating for gender equality within monastic life. Despite the rigid norms of the time, which regarded women as less capable of spiritual progress, she did not waver in the face of obstacles but persisted in her request. After being denied three times, the Buddha eventually granted her request, leading to the establishment of the Buddhist nuns’ order. Together with a group of women from the royal family, Mahāprajāpatī Gotamī shaved her head, donned monastic robes, and adopted monastic customs, demonstrating her unwavering dedication to the Dhamma[1]—the Buddha’s teachings and the spiritual law (Anālayo, 2021).

Monastic Life

Despite the initial rejections, Gautamī did not waver. At that moment, the intervention of Ānanda, the Buddha’s most devoted disciple, became crucial. Ānanda presented two undeniable arguments: first, a personal one, reminding the Buddha of Gautamī’s vital role in his upbringing, and second, one based on the idea of spiritual equality, questioning whether a woman could attain enlightenment. The Buddha responded affirmatively. Based on these arguments, he ultimately agreed to the establishment of the nuns’ order, but on the condition that they accept the eight gurudharma rules. These rules imposed specific restrictions on women within the monastic community, ensuring their subordination to monks. Namely, nuns were not allowed to advise monks on matters of spiritual practice, nor could they introduce new customs or regulations without monastic approval. Additionally, they were required to respect senior monks, regardless of their own spiritual maturity, while their leadership within the community was limited, as they were not permitted to oversee monastic administration. Furthermore, nuns could not own personal property and were obligated to surrender their assets to the community. Special provisions were also made to ensure their protection from external threats, particularly those arising outside the monastic order. Although women were deemed spiritually capable of attaining enlightenment, their social standing remained inferior to that of monks, and they were required to strictly adhere to monastic discipline and customs, often under greater scrutiny than their male counterparts (Anālayo, 2021).

Nevertheless, the establishment of the nuns’ order marked a historical breakthrough, granting women active participation in the monastic community. Gautamī’s determination and Ānanda’s intervention were pivotal moments in Buddhist history, as they provided women with the opportunity to become spiritual transmitters of the Buddha’s teachings, laying the foundation for the spread of Buddhism among all people, regardless of gender. The Buddha’s approval represented a significant step in the evolution of Buddhism—not only as a religious tradition but also as a system that, despite obstacles, allowed women to engage in spiritual life. This decision undoubtedly provoked resistance in society, as well as unease within the male monastic communities (Sirimanne, 2016). Although the Buddha was not a social reformer in the modern sense, his decision to include women in monastic life had a profound impact on the religious and social dynamics of his time.

According to numerous traditions, Mahāpajāpatī Gotamī is attributed with performing supernatural feats, including multiplying and reintegrating her own image, vanishing and reappearing, and passing through walls and mountains. It is also said that she caused the simultaneous appearance of six suns, releasing immense thermal energy into the atmosphere. Following these events, tradition holds that the Buddha granted Mahāpajāpatī Gotamī and her nuns entry into Nirvana, accompanied by his blessing. The Buddha escorted Mahāpajāpatī Gotamī to the monastery gates, where she paid him her final respects by kissing his feet. Upon returning to the monastery, Mahāpajāpatī Gotamī and 500 nuns began their preparations for Nirvana. News of their impending departure attracted numerous local followers, who came to pay their last respects. After bidding farewell to those gathered, Mahāpajāpatī Gotamī and her followers withdrew into meditation, and, according to tradition, they attained Nirvana (Horner, 1975; Blackstone, 1998).

Spiritual motherhood

The scholar, Dharma teacher, and writer Wendy Garling has extensively explored key moments in the spiritual life of Mahāprajāpatī Gotamī. In her biography Women Who Raised Buddha (2021), Garling portrays her life journey through the roles of sister, queen, mother, and nun, drawing on fragments from legends, myths, and canonical texts.

Mahāprajāpatī Gotamī is also mentioned as one of the central figures in Women in the History of Philosophy and Sciences (2023), a work that explores the philosophical views of 22 women outside the Greco-Roman and Judeo-Christian cultural spheres.[2] Her life, devoted to spiritual freedom and inner balance, served as an example for Siddhartha Gotami, who later chose to leave his luxurious aristocratic life in search of spiritual meaning. According to K. R. Blackstone in Women in the Footsteps of the Buddha: Struggle for Liberation in the Therīgāthā (1998), Mahāprajāpatī Gotamī was not only a mother but also a stable moral figure who showed Siddhartha the importance of spiritual life and the “healing” of dependency on material goods.

Details from the lives of the first nuns

The Buddhist order of nuns (bhikkhunī-saṁgha) is one of the oldest monastic communities and movements for the emancipation of women. It is the central theme of the monograph Buddhist Nuns: The Birth and Development of a Women’s Monastic Order by Mohan Wijayaratne (2010). The history of this order dates back to the fifth century BCE, a period of intense spiritual changes in the Ganges Valley, when alternative traditions emerged that challenged Brahmanical clericalism. Based on Buddhist canonical sources, Wijayaratne explores the development of the nuns’ order and the broader context of female asceticism in ancient India. In this process, the author further emphasizes other female ascetic communities, which also played a role in shaping the spiritual life of that period. In addition to Buddhist nuns, the author also describes other female ascetic communities, such as the Paribbājikā (community of Paribbājakas), Ájīvikā (community of Ájīvikas, led by Makkhali Gosāla), and Jain nuns who followed Jina Mahāvīra (Nigaṁṭha Nāthaputta). The text also mentions ascetic women who lived outside formal communities, either independently, in smaller groups, or with ascetic husbands. These communities not only provide insight into the spiritual practices of women during this time but also illustrate the broader cultural and societal context in which women sought to find their life path in a patriarchal society.

Similarly, the story of Princess Sumedhā from the city of Mantāvatī describes the challenges women faced in patriarchal societies, as well as their resistance to these norms through spirituality. Her example is not just a historical anecdote but symbolizes a broader social phenomenon. When Sumedhā decided to become a nun, her parents, who had already arranged her marriage, opposed her wish. Although everyone around her considered family life the natural path, Sumedhā chose to persevere. To demonstrate the seriousness of her intention, she cut off her hair and threw it before her parents and fiancé. Only then did her parents allow her to become a nun. Sumedhā, along with other nuns (Cálā, Úpacálā, and Sisúpacálā), rejected a life based on the established tradition that denied women the right to make their own choices, especially in the context of arranged marriages (Wijayaratne, 2010: 27). The entry of these women into monastic life was not only an act of spiritual dedication but also an affirmation of their identity, through meditation and religious practice, which enabled them to gain autonomy and redefine their social roles. Nuns like Anopāmā, who left her family’s property, and Sele, who attained inner peace through meditation, demonstrate how spirituality became a path of resistance to patriarchal norms. Stories like Sumedhā’s clearly show how spiritual life provided women with space for personal freedom. By rejecting worldly pleasures, they preserved their spiritual identity.

The Buddhist nun, scholar, and activist Karma Lekshe Tsomo[3] highlights four areas in which Buddhist women faced obstacles on their spiritual path. The first area concerns religious practice, including life customs, opportunities for teaching, meditation practices, and institutional structures. Although many of these opportunities are regularly available to laypeople and monks, they are rarely accessible to nuns. The second issue relates to the disciplinary rules that regulate the monastic life of nuns, clearly placing them in an inferior position compared to monks. Third, although Buddhist doctrine recognizes women’s ability to achieve enlightenment, this achievement is often denied recognition in terms of titles and status (Tsomo, 1999). For example, the term arhat (a person who has achieved enlightenment and liberation from samsara, the cycle of birth and death) is rarely used for women, and in Mahayana Buddhism, the term bodhisattva (a being who seeks enlightenment but delays entering nirvana out of compassion to help all beings achieve enlightenment) is rarely bestowed upon women (Gross, 1993). The greatest contribution of Buddhism to ancient Indian civilization was the radical idea that all people, regardless of caste, origin, or status, have equal spiritual value (before the source or God, we are all the same). This principle holds particular significance for women, who were traditionally excluded from religious rituals and the study of the Vedas (Halkias, 2013: 494). Despite progress, many Buddhist communities still have institutional barriers that hinder the full inclusion of women in all aspects of Buddhism.

A look into the future toward achieving equality

Although certain improvements have been made in the status of Buddhist nuns in recent decades, many obstacles arising from patriarchal structures still guide their path toward spiritual equality. Despite the progress made, the status of women within the Buddhist hierarchy remains uncertain, and their full inclusion in all aspects of spiritual practice continues to face challenges. According to Gross (2013), systematic research on gender and Buddhism only began in the 1980s, and she highlights four key areas that require further investigation. The first and most important is the need for data collection about women within Buddhism, as many Western Buddhists are unaware of the deep male dominance within these traditions. The second challenge concerns the restoration of full dedication of women in certain parts of the Buddhist world. Third, Western Buddhists (who convert to Buddhism) face the question of how to live as Buddhists in a non-Buddhist culture, while the fourth challenge points to the historical lack of female teachers and leaders within Buddhist traditions (Gross, 2013: 667).

In this context, Mahāprajāpatī Gotamī, the historical figure who made it possible for women to enter the monastic life, serves as a powerful source of motivation and inspiration for women. Her work in establishing women’s monastic communities was revolutionary in its essence because it not only enabled women access to meditation and learning but also laid the foundations for spiritual seeking within the Buddhist tradition. Regardless of gender, Mahāprajāpatī Gotamī directed women toward spiritual transformation. Women around the world can draw inspiration from her life, especially in the context of spiritual aspirations, as she represents an example of perseverance and determination in overcoming gender and social barriers. This aspect of her legacy also points to the importance of gender balance and equality, which are crucial for building egalitarian communities.

Despite the progress made, numerous challenges within Buddhist communities, such as patriarchal prejudices and reduced opportunities for women in education and rituals, indicate the need for further institutional reforms. True progress toward egalitarianism in the Buddhist environment depends on reducing these prejudices and encouraging structural changes that provide women with greater opportunities to actively participate in all aspects of Buddhist life, including leading communities and performing rituals. Only through these changes can an environment be created in which women have the same opportunities as monks, thus enabling full equality in spiritual practices.

LITERATURE

Anālayo, B. (2010), The Genesis of the Bodhisattva Ideal, Hamburg: Hamburg Buddhist Studies.

Anālayo, B. (2014), The Dawn of Abhidharma, Hamburg: Hamburg Buddhist Studies.

Anālayo, B. (2021), The Foundation History of the Order of Buddhist Nuns, Hamburg: Hamburg Buddhist Studies.

Anālayo, B. (2011). “Mahāpajāpati’s Going Forth in the Madhyama Āgama,” Journal of Buddhist Ethics, 18, 268–317. https://doi.org/10.5840/jbe20111815 (accessed 19. 1. 2025).

Arai, P. (1999), Zen Women: Beyond the Feminist Critique. In K. L. Tsomo (Ed.), Buddhist Women Across Cultures: Realizations (pp. 277–289), State University of New York Press.

Blackstone, K. R. (1998). Women in the Footsteps of the Buddha: Struggle for Liberation in the Therīgāthā, Curzon Press. https://doi.org/10.4324/9781136805769

Chodron, B. T. (2024). A New Possibility: Introducing Full Ordination for Women into the Tibetan Buddhist Tradition, available at http://www.congress-on-buddhist-women.org/index.php?id=30 (accessed 19. 1. 2024).

Garling, W. (2021), The Woman Who Raised the Buddha: The Extraordinary Life of Mahāprajāpati, Foreword by H.H. the Fourteenth Dalai Lama.

Gethin, R. (1998), The Foundations of Buddhism, Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Gombrich, R. (1988), Theravāda Buddhism: A Social History from Ancient Benares to Modern Colombo, New York: Routledge.

Gross, R. (1999), Feminism, Lay Buddhism, and the Future of Buddhism. In K. L. Tsomo (Ed.), Buddhist Women Across Cultures: Realizations (pp. 277–289). Albany: State University of New York Press.

Gross, R. M. (2013), Buddhist Perspectives on Gender Issues. In S. M. Emmanuel (Ed.), A Companion to Buddhist Philosophy, John Wiley & Sons, Inc.

Halkias, G. T. (2013), The Enlightened Sovereign: Buddhism and Kingship in India and Tibet. In S. M. Emmanuel (Ed.), A Companion to Buddhist Philosophy, John Wiley & Sons, Inc.

Horner, I. B. (1975), Women under Primitive Buddhism: Laywomen and Almswomen, Motilal Banarsidass.

Monge Sanz, J. (2024), The Wheel of Dharma: Symbolism and Teaching in Buddhism, Postposm. https://www.postposm.com/budizam-kotac-dharme-simbolizam-i-ucenje-u-budizmu (accessed 25. 1. 2025).

Rahula, V. (2000), What the Buddha Taught (B. Kovačević, Trans.), Belgrade: Theravada Buddhist Society Middle Path, available at http://www.yu-budizam.com/srednjiput (accessed 20. 1. 2025).

Tsomo, K. L. (1999), Buddhist Women Across Cultures: Realizations, Albany: State University of New York Press.

Waithe, M. E., Dykeman, T. B. (Eds.). (2023), Women Philosophers from Non-Western Traditions: The First Four Thousand Years, Cleveland: Cleveland State University.

Wijayaratna, M. (Ed.). (2010), Buddhist Nuns: The Birth and Development of a Women’s Monastic Order, Kandy: Buddhist Publication Society Inc.

Zdravković, H. (2012), Buddhism, First edition, Belgrade. Available at https://www.academia.edu/91581341/BUDIZAM (accessed 20. 1. 2025).

[1] The Dharma Wheel symbolizes the path to enlightenment and liberation from suffering, representing the fundamental principles of Buddhist teachings. It consists of three key components: the rim, which symbolizes discipline, uniting all aspects of Buddhist practice into a coherent whole; the spokes, which represent the Noble Eightfold Path, a guide to an ethical, wise, and compassionate life; and the hub, which signifies concentration, essential for attaining enlightenment and liberation. As a whole, the Dharma Wheel reflects an integrated approach that connects discipline, ethical values, and concentration on the path of spiritual development (cf. Monge Sanz, 2024).

[2] The list of women philosophers includes figures from various parts of the world, including Mesopotamia, India, Tibet, China, Korea, Japan, Australia, America, the Philippines, and Nigeria. The book covers philosophical thought that has shaped philosophy from its very beginnings up to the mid-20th century, encompassing ideas from early and late historical periods, the Middle Ages, and the modern era. The women philosophers featured in the book belonged to diverse philosophical traditions, including Hinduism, Buddhism, Confucianism, Taoism, Zen Buddhism, and Sufism. The book’s authors, Mary Ellen Waithe and Therese Boos Dykeman, provide a detailed exploration of their philosophical perspectives, the foundations of their schools of thought, and accompany their analyses with translations of their writing.

[3] As a professor at San Diego University, the author has published works exploring the challenges women face in accessing religious practices, education, and leadership. Her research focuses on strengthening women’s rights, reforming institutional regulations, and promoting gender equality in Buddhist communities. She actively raises awareness of historical and cultural barriers with the goal of creating a more equitable space for women in Buddhism and contributes to reforms that ensure their greater autonomy and recognition in religious life.

The post The Legacy of Mahāprajāpatī Gotamī and the First Buddhist Nuns: The Foundation of Women’s Spirituality in Buddhism appeared first on FER ŠKOLA.

The narrative of Tamar’s rape, recorded in chapter 13 of the Second Book of Samuel, represents one of the earliest biblical depictions of sexual violence within familial relationships. Tamar, the daughter of King David, is a victim of rape by her half-brother Amnon. This act not only violates her personal integrity but also exposes the power dynamics within what was then the most prominent family. Following the trauma of sexual violence, Tamar becomes socially isolated, and her suffering remains unacknowledged and unprotected. This story provides a foundation for examining sexual violence, particularly within families, as well as the role of legal and social structures that permit such crimes. In this text, we analyze Tamar’s character and her experience through the biblical narrative, the lack of support she received, and a feminist perspective. We also explore the responses and protective mechanisms that religious communities offer to victims of sexual violence.

The Status of Women in the Old Testament

Women in biblical times, as portrayed in the Old Testament, were often treated as property and valued primarily for their reproductive roles. Their social status was tied to a man, whether their father or husband. In cases of rape, a woman was considered disgraced and would lose her social standing, which she could only restore if her rapist married her (Malul, 2009: 9). According to Deuteronomy: If a man rapes a virgin who is not betrothed, he must pay fifty shekels of silver to her father and marry her (Deut. 22:28–29) (Clements, 1994). This raises questions about why laws failed to prevent violence and why they were strict yet ineffective (Jones, 2013: 3). In practice, women were often placed in subordinate positions.

This relationship, rooted in women’s subjugated roles within the family, is evident in biblical depictions. Don Marinko Vidović, a Catholic priest and professor at the Faculty of Catholic Theology at the University of Split, has studied violence against women and their status in the Bible. In his article „Violence Against Women in the Bible“ (2007), he points out that women in biblical narratives appear only once they reach sexual maturity, implying their readiness for marriage and childbearing. This approach illustrates how women were valued in relation to men: a man could desire a woman, marry her, exploit her, and then discard her. Before reaching sexual maturity, women were portrayed solely as daughters, emphasizing their dependence on their fathers and confirming their subordinate status within the patriarchal system (Vidović, 2007: 109).

What Do We Know About Tamar and Her Background?

King David (circa 1040–970 BCE) was the second king of the united Israelite kingdom and one of the most significant historical figures in the traditions of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. As a military leader and politician, he united the Israelite tribes, established Jerusalem as the political, cultural, and religious center, and planned the construction of a temple dedicated to God. During his reign, Israel experienced a period of political stability and strength. The Bible describes David as a man after God’s own heart (1 Sam. 13:14), symbolizing his faith and repentance despite his flaws. He is traditionally regarded as the author of the Psalms, spiritual songs that express praise to God and a longing for His presence (Alter, 1999; Rusan, 2016). One of the most famous moments in David’s life is his victory over Goliath, which symbolizes the triumph of faith over seemingly insurmountable odds. David’s legacy includes political stability, spiritual influence through the Psalms, and his undisputed significance in the religious traditions of the three monotheistic faiths (Rusan, 2016).

Among his children, Tamar is the only daughter of King David explicitly mentioned in the Bible. Little is known about her. Her mother, Maacah, was the daughter of Talmai, king of Geshur, and Tamar’s brother was Absalom. The Bible describes Tamar as a young woman who wore a richly ornamented robe, typical of royal virgin daughters of the time (2 Sam. 13). Rabbinic literature states that Tamar was King David’s biological daughter, born to a captive woman who became his wife after converting from paganism. This woman later gave birth to Absalom as well (Adelman, 2021).

As the daughter of a king, Tamar likely enjoyed certain privileges associated with belonging to the royal family. She was raised according to Jewish laws, which emphasized preserving family honor and adhering to the strict social norms imposed on members of David’s dynasty (Frymer-Kensky, 2002; Adelman, 2021). However, her class status did not protect her from rape. Despite her high position, Tamar was not spared from sexual violence, and her status as the king’s daughter became irrelevant after she endured trauma and withdrew from public life. The story of Tamar’s rape reveals how social and familial hierarchies could not prevent her suffering, further highlighting the powerlessness of women within patriarchal society.

The Biblical Account of Tamar’s Rape

In 2 Samuel 13, the story of Amnon, King David’s son, falling in love with his half-sister Tamar is described. Amnon was so tormented that he made himself ill because of his sister Tamar (2 Sam. 13:2). Tamar was a virgin, and Amnon believed it was impossible to have any kind of relationship with her because she was unmarried (2 Sam. 13:2). Amnon’s friend Jonadab, the son of David’s brother Shimeah, suggested that he pretend to be ill so that he could ask his father, David, to send Tamar to prepare food for him (2 Sam. 13:5). Amnon followed this advice, and King David sent Tamar to visit Amnon and prepare a meal for him (2 Sam. 13:7–8). When Tamar arrived at Amnon’s house and prepared the meal, Amnon, after dismissing everyone else from the room, demanded that she bring the food to his bedroom (2 Sam. 13:10). When she brought it to him, he seized her and said, “Come, lie with me, my sister.” Tamar responded, „No, my brother! Do not violate me, for such a thing is not done in Israel; do not do this outrageous thing. As for me, where could I carry my shame? And as for you, you would be as one of the outrageous fools in Israel. Now therefore, please speak to the king, for he will not withhold me from you“ (2 Sam. 13:11–14). Despite her pleas, Amnon overpowered and assaulted her. After the assault, Amnon developed a deep hatred for Tamar (2 Sam. 13:15). He ordered his servants, Put this woman out of my presence and bolt the door after her! (2 Sam. 13:17). Tamar then put ashes on her head, tore the ornate robe she was wearing, placed her hand on her head, and went away, crying aloud as she went (2 Sam. 13:19). Her brother Absalom asked her, „Has your brother Amnon been with you? Be quiet now, my sister; he is your brother. Do not take this thing to heart“ (2 Sam. 13:20). Tamar remained desolate in her brother Absalom’s house, unmarried. This violent act led to further conflicts within King David’s family.

Tamar’s NO!

In the article „Rape in the House of David: The Biblical Story of Tamar as a Resource for Transformation“ (2004), African biblical scholar Gerald West and his collaborators analyze Tamar’s resistance to the violence she endured, highlighting her determination and the arguments she made in an attempt to prevent the crime. Tamar’s objections, expressed through a series of clear and morally powerful statements, serve as an example of resisting injustice within a patriarchal society. Tamar first loudly and decisively rejects Amnon’s intentions with the words, „No!“ (2 Sam. 13:12–13), which should, in itself, have been sufficient to halt any further attempt. She then reminds him that he is her brother, appealing to familial bonds and moral norms that make such an act even more reprehensible. She explicitly emphasizes her unwillingness to participate in the act, making it clear that she is being coerced. Tamar also invokes cultural heritage and laws that Amnon, as a member of the Israelite community, is obliged to respect, pointing out that his intentions are wicked and unjust.

As a final effort, Tamar suggests the possibility of marriage between them, which, though deeply undesirable, might at least mitigate her shame to some extent and provide her with social protection. Despite her clearly articulated opposition and rational arguments, Amnon disregards her voice and uses his physical superiority to commit violence. West and his collaborators emphasize that Tamar’s voice symbolizes resistance and an attempt to preserve personal dignity within power structures that systematically marginalize her (West et al., 2004). Through this analysis, Tamar’s story is recognized as a valuable biblical resource for promoting social transformation and raising awareness about the issue of sexual violence against women.

Causes and Consequences of Sexual Violence

The causes of sexual violence often include societal norms that support inequality, psychological factors such as lust and manipulation, and the inaction of institutions that should protect victims. The consequences of this violence are profound and long-lasting, affecting both the victims and society as a whole.

In the article „A Biblical, Psychological, and Moral Analysis of the Rape of Tamar in 2 Samuel 13: A Pastoral Response“ (2018), Noel Woodbridge and Callie Joubert analyze Tamar’s story. Amnon, who feels obsessive lust toward Tamar, mistakenly interprets it as love. Due to three obstacles—Tamar being a virgin under family supervision, the prohibition of incest, and the restrictions on her privacy imposed by societal rules—Amnon becomes frustrated. Following the advice of his friend Jonadab, he pretends to be ill, which leads to Tamar being brought to his home. Tamar’s moral principles force her to firmly reject Amnon’s demands, but despite this, he rapes her, showing indifference to the consequences. Afterward, he brutally throws her out of the house, further deepening her trauma. Although King David is enraged by the crime, he takes no concrete action against Amnon, thereby deepening the injustice Tamar experiences. Two years later, her brother Absalom avenges her by killing Amnon. The authors conclude that Tamar’s story exposes systemic injustice toward victims and points to the dangers of lust, manipulation, and passivity, as Tamar becomes a victim of both familial and structural violence, with no protection (Woodbridge & Joubert, 2018).

Isolation and Lack of Support

After the rape, Tamar goes to live with her brother Absalom, where she remains in seclusion, symbolically and literally losing her voice in the biblical text. Without support, her life is reduced to withdrawal from public life, further marginalizing her. The absence of societal and familial protection highlights the intertwined connection between female honor, family relationships, and the broader social context in which sexual violence is not only unpunished but often concealed.

Feminist theologian and professor of the Old Testament at the University of Graz, Irmtraud Fischer, in the article „Sexual Harassment in the Bible #ThemToo“ (2023), emphasizes that concealing sexual violence is not a solution, although it is often practiced in patriarchal societies to preserve family honor. Tamar portrays Amnon’s crime through symbolic gestures—placing ashes on her head, tearing her clothes, and loudly expressing her pain and despair. According to Fischer, these actions clearly demonstrate her determination not to conceal the violence, despite societal expectations. Fischer notes that this biblical narrative is often interpreted with a degree of understanding toward the men who conceal crimes to preserve family reputation. Tamar, on the other hand, acts within the framework of the laws and traditions of her time, knowing what is morally right and what is not. Although she understands that society considers her defiled, she refuses to remain silent and thus further sacrifices her own integrity to protect the family’s reputation (Fischer, 2023: 259–261).

In this context, biblical depictions of women often do not reflect their personal worth but raise questions about the strict rules that define honor and women’s roles within the family. Vidović emphasizes that although the Bible assigns the primary task of protecting a daughter’s honor and well-being before marriage to the father, biblical texts do not provide examples of such behavior. The author specifically notes that two significant biblical figures, Jacob and David, did not protect their daughters who survived sexual violence. Furthermore, Vidović points out that biblical storytellers do not present women, especially daughters, as individuals who deserve dignified treatment in society. They are portrayed exclusively as the property of their fathers or husbands (Vidović, 2007: 111). The author elaborates on the complexity of the issue of women’s honor, explaining that virginity is not only a physical integrity of a woman (virgo intacta) but also a symbol of her social status, belonging to her father, and potential for marriage. According to the author, men’s interests are projected onto women, and in Tamar’s case, a conflict between father and son arises. The interests of power and politics define the framework of sexual violence, while Tamar remains a pawn in the dynamics of intrusion into the father’s ownership and influence (Vidović, 2007: 123).

It is important to analyze the moment when Tamar loses her voice, or when she stops being mentioned in the Bible, as this moment marks dehumanization and stigmatization within the narrative. After being raped by her half-brother Amnon, Tamar is forced to live in isolation, and her life becomes a testament to the patriarchal structures that silence women’s voices. Gabrielle Isaac-Herzog, in her article „From Handmaids to Princesses: How Identity and Politics Impact Definitions of Biblical Rape“ (2022), emphasizes Tamar’s „privileged“ position compared to other women who were often cast out of their families or sold. Although she is an innocent victim, Tamar is silenced, and her silence becomes a tool of patriarchy, depriving her of justice and harming other women (Isaac-Herzog, 2022).

Feminist Reconstructions of Tamar and Women in the Bible

The theme of Tamar’s rape in 2 Samuel in the biblical text represents a significant emotional and social issue that surpasses its historical meaning, becoming a space for analyzing power, patriarchy, and trauma. In the context of biblical narratives, various contemporary feminist theologians and theorists use Tamar’s story as a framework for reinterpreting female suffering, suppression, and empowering the voices of victims within patriarchal structures. Juliana M. Claassens, a professor of biblical studies, in her chapter „Trauma and Recovery: A New Hermeneutical Framework for the Rape of Tamar (2 Samuel 13)“ (2016), applies trauma theory to emphasize the importance of Tamar’s voice, which was ignored during the rape. Claassens argues that her voice is crucial for acknowledging the reality of what happened to her, as it allows Tamar’s experience to emerge from the shadow of trauma. In this context, Tamar becomes the subject of her narrative, and her speech enables healing and recognition of her suffering. A similar approach is taken by Elizabeth Hands, a professor of theology, in her article „The Death of Amnon“ from the collection Nature’s Ban: Women’s Incest Literature (1996). Through the analysis of incestuous relationships, the author demonstrates how female characters are shaped within such norms, but she also seeks to amplify women’s voices, enabling them to fight for their dignity and justice. Both authors, Claassens and Hands, highlight the importance of recognizing and empowering female voices in patriarchal narratives, allowing victims to fight for their justice and integrity. This approach also recognizes trauma as a vital element in the process of liberation, where the victim’s voice acknowledges and names the abuse with the correct terminology.

Tracy Hansen, a professor of pastoral theology, in her work points out the similarities between Tamar’s story and contemporary cases of rape within family structures. Hansen highlights key connections, such as familiar perpetrators, the silence of authorities regarding rape reports, and the grieving process through which the victim passes. Her interpretation allows readers to identify with Tamar as a victim, drawing attention to contemporary challenges in understanding violence, with a focus on family dynamics and violence (Hansen, 1992). Her approach builds on the work of Cheryl Exum, a professor of biblical studies, who analyzes female rape victims in biblical narratives (Exum, 1993). In her book Fragmented Women: Feminist (Sub)versions of Biblical Narratives, she shows how biblical texts often do not focus on the voice of the victims but erase them, reflecting similar societal issues regarding the approach to violence victims, such as minimizing their experiences and undermining their voices.

Tiana Bosman, a scholar in the field of theology and biblical studies, in her article „Domestic Violence in the Old Testament and During the COVID-19 Pandemic: A Question of Identity“ (2021), expands the analysis, claiming that there are three abusers in Tamar’s story: Amnon, Absalom, and her father David. This approach connects the family framework with patriarchal principles, showing how power in the family mirrors a mechanism that allows the perpetuation of violence in both family and broader contexts. Rachelle Gilmour, a professor of theology and feminist studies, in her work „But He Would Not Listen to Her: Revisiting the Story of Tamar in 2 Samuel 13.5“(2016), also emphasizes the importance of the family structure from a feminist perspective. Gilmour argues that Tamar’s story does not attempt to break the patriarchal system, nor does it create the illusion of her safety within it. Tamar remains unprotected, and her story becomes a symbol of the cruel reality in which women are far from safe.

How Religious Communities Treat Victims

Today, religious communities are confronted with the challenge of interpreting sexual violence, especially in the context of its deep effects on victims and the influence religious authorities have in the recovery process. While churches theoretically condemn sexual violence as morally and religiously unacceptable, in practice, questions often arise regarding responsibility and reactions to violence within religious communities. Patriarchal hierarchies reflect entrenched views on the role of women and male dominance. This gives rise to various myths that enable and support sexual violence (Knickmeyer et al., 2010). This system often directs the response of religious communities toward shared responsibility between the victim and the perpetrator, which significantly complicates addressing abuse and hinders the recovery process.

Women who are victims of violence often seek help within church communities, as they look for understanding and support there. According to research findings, women prefer to seek help within their religious community, and this is often the first place where they acknowledge the violence and ask others to believe them (Damron & Johnson, 2015: 5). However, religious communities need to work on developing a sensitive approach. Reports of sexual violence are not attacks on religion or religious teachings but point to the need to question the causes of violence and confront trauma. If religious leaders react defensively or antagonistically, they unconsciously support myths about rape and further complicate the recovery process for victims. The culture of concealing violence within religious communities has not yet been fully overcome. Victims face additional problems, especially when they are not provided with emotional support or when their confessions are dismissed or minimized (Ames, 2015). Furthermore, it is necessary to analyze specific attitudes rooted in religious traditions, such as those related to penance, guilt, obedience, and sacrifice, as these can negatively impact the victims’ ability to free themselves from the emotional and psychological consequences of abuse.

Voices Found

The story of Tamar’s experience of rape can serve as a warning about sexual domestic violence, which, unfortunately, still affects many women and girls today. Numerous victims face violence from close family members—fathers, grandfathers, brothers, and even their own husbands. What should be a safe and warm family environment often turns into a cyclical hell of constant violence, where the feeling of shame paralyzes victims and prevents them from speaking out about their experiences.

Although Tamar did not directly speak about her trauma, her act of sprinkling ashes and tearing her dress becomes a symbolic message about how emotions and suffering can be expressed in other ways. This example can serve as inspiration for women who are facing violence, giving them the strength to recognize the importance of confronting their traumas instead of repressing them.

As members of society, we are responsible for building support networks for women who dare to report violence, as the path to reporting is far from easy. Confronting sexual abusers, especially when they are family members, can be incredibly difficult and emotionally draining. Nevertheless, it is important to motivate women not to remain silent about their wounds, but to focus on healing and justice. Shame and guilt should never be burdens that victims carry. It is crucial to point out the legal responsibility of institutions to bring rapists to justice and to direct the social discourse of condemnation toward them, rather than further stigmatizing the victims. Awareness must be raised about the importance of encouraging women to speak about their experiences and creating safe spaces where they will feel supported and protected. Additionally, efforts should be made to eliminate the shame and guilt that society often assigns to victims, focusing instead on education and prevention of sexual violence to create a safer and fairer community for all.

LITERATURE

Adelman, R. (2021), „Tamar 2“, Jewish Women’s Archive,

https://jwa.org/encyclopedia/article/tamar-2 – accessed 10.12.2024.

Alter, R. (1999), The David Story, New York: Sage Journal.

Ames, N., Ware, L. F. (2015), „Latino Protestants: Religion, Culture, and Violence Against Women“, A. J. Johnson (ed.), Religion and Men’s Violence Against Women (149–162), Springer Science: Business Media.

Bible (1972), Zagreb: Christian Present.

Bosman, T. (2021), “Domestic Violence in the Old Testament and During the COVID-19 Pandemic: A Question of Identity”, HTS Teologiese Studies/Theological Studies, 77(3), 67-92, https://doi.org/10.4102/hts.v77i3.6792 – accessed 11.12.2024.

Brenner, A. (2005), I Am… Biblical Women Tell Their Own Stories, Minneapolis: Fortress Press.

Casey, K. L. (2010), „What Part of ‘No’ Don’t You Understand? – Talking the Tough Stuff of the Bible: A Creative Reading of the Rape of Tamar – 2 Sam. 13:1–22“, Feminist Theology, 18(2), 160–174. https://doi.org/10.1177/0966735009348549 – accessed 12.12.2024.

Claassens, L. (2016), „Trauma and Recovery: A New Hermeneutical Framework for the Rape of Tamar (2 Samuel 13)“, The Bible Through the Lens of Trauma (177-192), SLB Press.

Clements, R. (1994), The Book of Deuteronomy: Introduction, Commentary, and Reflections, Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press.

Damron, J., Johnson, A. J. (2015), „Violence Against Women in Religious Communities: An Introduction“, A. J. Johnson (ed.), Religion and Men’s Violence Against Women (3–14), Springer Science: Business Media.

Exum, J. C. (1993), Fragmented Women: Feminist (Sub)versions of Biblical Narratives, Sheffield: JSOT Press.

Fisher, I. (2023), „Sexual Harassment in the Bible #ThemToo“, Obnovljeni život, 78(2), 257–265.

Frymer-Kensky, T. (2002), Reading the Women of the Bible, New York: Schocken.

Hansen, T. (1992), „My Name is Tamar“, Theology, 95, 370-377.

Gilmour, R. (2016), „But He Would Not Listen to Her: Revisiting the Story of Tamar in 2 Samuel 13:5“, M. J. Melanchthon & R. J. Whitaker (eds.), Terror in the Bible: Rhetoric, Gender, and Violence (55-67), Brill.

Hands, E. (1996), „The Death of Amnon“, K. J. McLennan (ed.), Nature’s Ban: Women’s Incest Literature (29-56), Northeastern University Press.

Isaac-Herzog, G. (2022), “From Handmaids to Princesses: How Identity and Politics Impact Definitions of Biblical Rape”, Spring 4-26, 4-49.

Jones, J. (2013), Pre-biblical and Old Testament Rape Law Parallels: Recurring Androcentric Themes in Historic Biblical Texts, doctoral dissertation, New Jersey: Master of Arts in Liberal Studies.

Joubert, C., Woodbridge, N. (2018), „A Biblical, Psychological, and Moral Analysis of the Rape of Tamar in 2 Samuel 13: A Pastoral Response“, Conspectus—The Journal of the South African Theological Seminary, 25, 106-123.

Knickmeyer, N. et al. (2010), „Putting on Sunday Best: The Silencing of Battered Women Within Christian Faith Communities“, Feminism & Psychology, 20(1), 94–113. https://doi.org/10.1177/0959353509347470 – accessed 14.12.2024.

Malul, M. (2009), „What is the Nature of the Crime of the Delinquent Daughter in Deuteronomy 22:13-21?“, Vetus Testamentum, 59, 446-459.

Rusan, S. (2016), The Influence and Significance of David in the First Book of Chronicles, doctoral dissertation, Zagreb: Catholic Theological Faculty of the University of Zagreb.

Vidović, M. (2007), „Violence Against Women in the Bible“, Proceedings: Violence Against Women, 98-158.

West, G. (2004), „Rape in the House of David: The Biblical Story of Tamar as a Resource for Transformation“, Agenda, 18(61), 36-41.

The post Tamar (2 Samuel 13): Confronting Sexual Violence and Trauma in the Biblical Narrative appeared first on FER ŠKOLA.

This analysis examines the character of Delilah, exploring various interpretations of her actions. It seeks to answer whether she is portrayed solely as a femme fatale who betrayed Samson’s trust or as a wise and pragmatic woman acting in accordance with the circumstances of her time. Through an examination of the biblical text, cultural aspects, and cinematic representations, the motives behind her actions will be discussed. Additionally, the impact of patriarchal interpretations on the collective memory of her character will be explored.

The Biblical Account of Delilah

Delilah originated from the Valley of Sorek, situated between the territories of the Israelites and the Philistines. This valley, stretching from Jerusalem to the Mediterranean Sea, held strategic significance as the borderland between the warring nations (Exum, 2009; Brazell, 2015: 2). Delilah and Samson, the central figures of the biblical narrative, are known for their tragic relationship culminating in betrayal. Samson fell in love with Delilah, a woman from the Valley of Sorek. The Philistine lords offered her a reward of eleven hundred silver shekels if she uncovered the secret of Samson’s great strength (Judges 16:5). Delilah asked him, „Tell me the secret of your great strength and how you can be tied up and subdued“ (Judges 16:6). Samson replied that he could be weakened if bound with seven fresh bowstrings, which Delilah attempted, but he easily broke free. After multiple failed attempts to extract the truth, she pressed him again, saying, „You have made a fool of me; you lied to me. Come now, tell me how you can be tied“ (Judges 16:10). Samson then told her that if tied with new, unused ropes, he would become weak like any other man (Judges 16:11). Delilah bound him with ropes, but he again broke free, proving his strength (Judges 16:12). She persisted, and Samson told her his strength would be lost if the seven locks of his hair were woven into the fabric on a loom (Judges 16:13–14). After lulling him to sleep, Delilah followed his instructions, but Samson once again freed himself (Judges 16:14). Frustrated, Delilah confronted him: „How can you say, ‘I love you,’ when you won’t confide in me? This is the third time you have made a fool of me and haven’t told me the secret of your great strength“(Judges 16:15). She nagged him day after day until he was worn down and revealed his secret: „No razor has ever been used on my head because I have been a Nazirite dedicated to God from my mother’s womb. If my head were shaved, my strength would leave me, and I would become as weak as any other man“ (Judges 16:17). Realizing he had confided in her completely, Delilah summoned the Philistine lords (Judges 16:18). She put Samson to sleep on her lap, called for someone to shave off his seven locks of hair, and his strength left him (Judges 16:19). When she cried out, „Samson, the Philistines are upon you!“ he awoke but did not realize that the Lord had departed from him (Judges 16:20). The Philistines seized him, gouged out his eyes, and brought him to Gaza, where they bound him with bronze chains and forced him to grind grain in prison (Judges 16:21).

Stereotypes, Symbolism, and Interpretations

Delilah has become a figure whose name is deeply etched into the collective consciousness (Smith, 1999: 1). Chambers Dictionary defines Delilah as: „A Philistine woman who betrayed Samson; a courtesan; a seductress; an alluring object” (1983: 329). She is remembered as the woman who seduced Samson, deceived him, and made a fool of him. American writer and journalist Elizabeth Wurtzel argues that Delilah’s fame, as well as her status as a sex symbol in popular culture, became iconic because she succeeded in bringing down this powerful man (Wurtzel, 1999: 45). In various interpretations, Delilah is often depicted as a cunning trickster motivated by revenge, money, and social status. She has been described as a harlot, seductress, deceiver, and betrayer of Samson. However, the question arises: what lies behind this negative image?

According to Professor Dan Clanton, an expert in theological and religious studies, and his work „Trollops and Temptresses“ (2009), the negative portrayal of Delilah is deeply embedded in the cultural tradition of the biblical narrative. This tradition was subsequently carried into literature, film, and music. Clanton argues that such depictions have the power to reshape the biblical story, adapting it to various historical contexts, thus enabling contemporary identifications and interpretations (Clanton, 2009: 66). The author outlines several key characteristics that shape the stereotypes about Delilah: 1) Delilah is heterosexual and part of a heteronormative patriarchal sexual norm. 2)She has an intimate relationship with Samson, but they are not married, which is often interpreted as immoral and inappropriate behavior. 3) In some interpretations, Delilah is depicted as a prostitute because the Philistines paid her to uncover Samson’s secrets. 4) Delilah is a foreigner, associated with a hostile nation in relation to the Hebrews. 5) She is beautiful, sensual, and irresistible, which made Samson unable to resist her charm. 6) Although she might be in love with Samson, she ultimately betrays him (Clanton, 2009: 67).

Professor of Hebrew theology and early Judaism Mark Lackanovski, on the other hand, emphasizes that the biblical text does not specify whether Delilah was an Israelite, a Philistine, or of another ethnicity. Her placement in the Valley of Sorek, which divides Israel and Philistia, further accentuates her mysteriousness. In his study „Victim, Victor, or Villain? The Unfinalizability of Delilah“ (2019), Lackanovski argues that Delilah balances between two opposing identities, drawing advantages from both sides. After Samson, blind and shackled, is taken away, Delilah disappears from the story. The biblical text ceases to mention her name, suggesting that Delilah, like Samson, remains a liminal and complex figure representing transitional boundaries between two worlds—Israel and Philistia (Lackanovski, 2019: 214–215).

Why does Delilah continue to fascinate us?

The character traits of Delilah, such as beauty, sensuality, intelligence, confidence, cunning, and persistence, serve as weapons to bring down a man who had previously been considered invincible and unbreakable. The fundamental framework of the story juxtaposes female ingenuity with male physical strength, cunning strategies with brute force, and words with mute action. The story is rich with motifs that offer opportunities for deeper analysis, such as patriotism versus individualism, male strength versus female cunning, and the conflict between religious devotion and sensual temptation (Sölle, 1993: 138–141). Delilah is further intriguing due to questions without definitive answers, which open space for speculation. For example, was she a wife or a harlot? (Exum, 1993).

A major problem with female characters like Delilah lies in the fact that they are often surrounded by myths of fatality and seduction, leaving them trapped in collective imagination and speculation. The actual facts of their existence and actions are often overlooked. In the absence of their own voice, a vast space opens for the creation of various perceptions and myths, which, unfortunately, are often more appealing to people than reality.

The Demonization of Delilah’s Character

As an archetype of the femme fatale, Delilah embodies male fantasies about female sexuality portrayed as a threat and danger. Her undeniable allure lies in her ability to use charm and seductive skills, ensnaring a man in a web of desire and manipulation (Stocker, 1998; Bach, 1997). Once her victim, in this case, Samson, falls into her trap of deceit, Delilah acts cold-bloodedly and mercilessly, destroying him without any remorse. The manipulation of male desire, which enables the femme fatale to achieve her goals, symbolizes deeply rooted anxieties associated with women. On the one hand, this fear arises from autonomous and unfettered female sexuality that escapes male control. On the other hand, there is vulnerability caused by sexual intimacy, particularly at the moment of losing self-control.

The inclusion of numerous femme fatale archetypes in biblical narratives clearly indicates the deep presence of these fears in the consciousness of the ancient world (Stocker, 1998; Bach, 1997). Samson, a strong and invincible hero whose power was tied to his long hair, symbolizes divine chosenness. However, Delilah, the woman he loved, becomes the key factor in his downfall. While it is often assumed that Delilah was motivated by love or money, insufficient consideration is given to the fact that Samson had already had other women, nor is his inability to recognize the danger adequately questioned. This element, which neglects Samson’s responsibility and solely blames Delilah, requires broader analysis of the cultural and social circumstances shaping this story.

Delilah’s character is associated with narratives of harlotry and prostitution. In Babylonian and Canaanite cultures, prostitution was linked to religious rituals dedicated to fertility gods like Marduk and Astarte. According to the Code of Hammurabi, temple harlots were integrated into cultic rituals, making prostitution a ritual act. In the biblical context, however, harlotry became a symbol of spiritual apostasy and abandonment of God. Harlotry in the Bible often symbolizes Israel’s apostasy from God, portraying the nation as a harlot while Yahweh is depicted as the abandoned husband (Rebić, 1983: 89). Similarly, in biblical wisdom literature, harlots and adulterous women are often depicted as threats to moral order.

Dominican author Stipe Jurić, in his book Female Beauty – The Strongest Human Desire: Woman in Biblical Wisdom Literature (2012), emphasizes that biblical sages advised young men to avoid adulteresses and foreign women because such relationships threatened family stability and moral purity. Adultery was a serious sin as it endangered the very foundation of family life. Women who committed adultery, whether in reality or in societal perception, were often portrayed as disruptors of social balance and moral values, with their sexuality viewed as a danger to community stability (Jurić, 2012: 237).

Researcher, theorist, journalist, writer, and activist from Sarajevo, Belma Bećirbašić, in her analysis Body, Femininity, Power: Inscribing Patriarchal Discourse onto the Body (2011), notes that the philosophy of dualism throughout history has shaped the view of women as „bodily“ and „passionate“ beings, while men are represented as rational and logical. This personification of the female body had a profound impact on understanding marriage, sexuality, and morality. A woman labeled as a harlot, whether true or not, was placed in the lowest social stratum, while her promiscuity, even when not of her own choice, was portrayed as a societal evil threatening fundamental moral norms and family values (Bećirbašić, 2011: 15).

Combining these theoretical insights, we can see that Delilah’s narrative is deeply rooted in the cultural and societal norms of both her time and ours. Delilah is not only a deceiver as an individual but also a symbol of a broader issue in which a woman, labeled as a promiscuous harlot, becomes a figure of condemnation. This suggests that Delilah, as a character, is also a product of cultural stereotypes and societal expectations that shape the negative perception of women in biblical narratives. Maria Gertrudis Mieke Bal, a Dutch cultural theorist, video artist, and professor emeritus of literary theory at the University of Amsterdam, has studied Delilah’s character. In her work Death and Dissymmetry – The Politics of Coherence in the Book of Judges (1988), Bal argues that Delilah’s mission is not only to destroy Samson but also to enable his psychological transformation. According to Bal, Delilah frees Samson from his connection to his mother and the legacy of the hero, allowing him to turn to his own desires, liberated from patriarchal expectations (Bal, 1988: 225).

In the Book of Judges, Samson was born with divine strength tied to his dedication to God:„For behold, you shall conceive and bear a son. No razor shall come upon his head, for the child shall be a Nazirite to God from the womb; and he shall begin to deliver Israel out of the hand of the Philistines“ (Judges 13:5). This strength is symbolically linked to his vow; however, when Delilah reveals his secret, Samson loses divine protection, marking a turning point in his inner transformation and confrontation with life without protection.

While Bal emphasizes Delilah’s role in Samson’s transformation, feminist and biblical theorist Cheryl Exum, professor emeritus at the University of Sheffield, argues that Delilah is portrayed as a warning to Israelite men not to trust women, particularly those from other nations. According to Exum, Delilah, as a Philistine, represents a threat because her actions in the text symbolize how external enemies can break internal unity and strength in Israel (Exum, 1996: 80). By connecting these theoretical approaches, religious scholar and professor Carol Smith interprets Delilah as a woman who, despite patriarchal limitations, uses her position for personal gain. According to Smith, Delilah is not just a traitor but a figure who attempts to change her fate and achieve ambition, challenging the invincible hero who represents a threat to the Philistine people (Smith, 1997: 49).

Samson’s Relationship with Women

In Samson’s earlier romantic experiences, women are mostly portrayed as objects of desire or means to fulfill his goals. However, the relationship with Delilah introduces a new dimension. In this relationship, Samson shows emotional vulnerability and develops a deeper personal connection, signaling a change in his behavior and perception of women (Pietersen, 2022). Unlike the previous women in the story, Delilah has a name, which symbolically elevates her from the status of an object to that of a subject. Her ability to engage in dialogue with Samson, intellectually and emotionally challenging him, indicates her resourcefulness and skill in psychological manipulation. Delilah is not necessarily a negative figure; she uses the only form of power available to women in a patriarchal society that excludes them from political and social structures (Spronk, 2014). Despite her manipulation, Delilah can be seen as a woman who finds ways to survive in a system that imposes limitations on her. Samson, on the other hand, remains trapped in his need to prove himself, ignoring the emotional and intellectual depths of the woman he loves (Bowman, 2007; Pietersen, 2022).

Feminist Reconstruction of Prejudices About Delilah

The story of Samson and Delilah, viewed through a feminist lens, not only analyzes positions of power but also the problematic romantic dynamics that neglect emotional complexity and intellectual capability. Lillian Klein portrays Delilah as an independent woman who skillfully uses her sexuality and intellect to achieve personal goals. However, the biblical text presents her character negatively, especially due to her betrayal of Samson for money. In the biblical interpretation, Delilah is morally worse than prostitutes and represents the culmination of negative characters in the Book of Judges. This negative portrayal opens up the possibility of reinterpreting her character, as her ability to manipulate can be seen as a response to a patriarchal society (Klein, 1993).

In film depictions, such as Samson and Delilah (1949) and Samson (2018), Delilah is not just a seductress but also an excellent spy who uncovers Samson’s secret of strength, which the Philistines failed to do. These films emphasize her active role in political games, marking a certain advancement in relation to traditional portrayals of women of that time. These interpretations portray Delilah as a woman who, despite patriarchal limitations, enters political spheres reserved for the elite male society. Thus, her character becomes a symbol of a woman fighting for her own power and status.

Popular author Liz Curtis Higgs, in her book Bad Girls of the Bible and What We Can Learn About Them (2013), portrays Delilah as a woman who uses her beauty and intellect to achieve her own goals, disregarding the moral consequences. Higgs highlights the danger of deceit but also presents Delilah as a woman struggling to survive within the framework of societal and cultural pressures. Caroline Blyth, a religious studies lecturer at the Department of Humanities at the Faculty of Arts, University of Auckland, in Reimagining Delilah’s Afterlives as Femme Fatale (2017), challenges the portrayal of Delilah as the archetypal femme fatale, emphasizing that her character was shaped by patriarchal discourses. Blyth analyzes Delilah in the context of culture and history, suggesting that her “fatal” nature is a result of cultural prejudices against strong women. Blyth also highlights how contemporary feminist approaches can reinterpret Delilah as a victim of patriarchal norms that forced her to become a fatal woman. Delilah’s experience raises the question of how much her decision was her real choice and how much it was the result of pressures. Today, women continue to face challenges similar to those Delilah faced, such as societal pressures, stereotypes, and the disproportionate distribution of power, which force them to use all available resources to navigate life. This approach to Delilah as a woman who uses strategy and resourcefulness to cope with the limitations of society demonstrates how relevant her figure remains today, in the context of the struggle for women’s equality and recognition of their inner strength.

LITERATURE

Ackerman, S. (1998), Warrior, Dancer, Seductress, Queen – Women in Judges and Biblical Israel, New York: Anchor Bible Reference Library.

Bach, A. (1997), Women, seduction and betrayal in biblical narrative, Cambridge University Press.

Bal, M. (1988), Death and Dissymmetry – The Politics of Coherence in the Book of Judges, University of Chicago Press, Chicago.

Bećirbašić, B. (2011), Body, Femininity, Power: Inscribing Patriarchal Discourse into the Body, Zagreb- Sarajevo: Synopsis.

Bible (1974), Zagreb: Kršćanska sadašnjost.

Blyth, C. (2017), Reimagining Delilah’s Afterlives as Femme Fatale: The Lost Seduction, London: Bloomsbury Publishing.

Brazell, A. (2015), „Delilah: A Heartless Wrecker of a Mighty Man. Biography of Delilah from the Old Testament“, Old Testament Survey, https://www.academia.edu/14164484/Biography_of_Delilah_from_the_Old_Testament, 2. 12. 2024.

Bowman, R. G. (2007), „Narrative criticism of Judges“, (ed.), G. A. Yee Judges and Method: New Approaches in Biblical Studies ( 38–39). Fortress Press.

Clanton, D. (2009), „Trollops and Temptresses“, Disreputable and Devout: Interpreting the Hebrew Bible’s Women in the Arts and Music, (65–78). London: T&T Clark.

Exum, J. C. (1993) „ Samson’s women“, Fragmented women: Feminist subversions of biblical narratives ( 61–93). Sheffield: JSOT Press

Exum, C. (2009), „Delilah: Bible“, Jewish Women: A Comprehensive Historical Encyclopedia, https://jwa.org/encyclopedia/article/delilah-bible, 3. 12. 2024.

Higgs, L. (2013), The Bad Girls from the Bible and What We Can Learn About Them, Colorado Springs: WaterBrook Press.

Jurić, S. (2012), Female Beauty – The Strongest Human Desire: Women in Biblical Wisdom Literature, Zagreb: Verbum.

Kirkpatrick, E. M, (1983), Chambers 20th century dictionary, Edinburgh: W. & R. Chambers.

Klein, L. R. (1993), „The Book of Judges: Paradigm and Deviation in Images of Women“, A. Brenner (ur.), A Feminist Companion to Judges, Sheffield: JSOT Press.

Lackanowski, D. (2019), „Victim, Victor, or Villain? The Unfinalizability of Delilah“, Journal of the Bible and its Reception, 6(2): 197–225.

Pietersen, D. (2022), „A Dangerous and Powerful Woman? – A Feminist Reading of an Old Story with New Cultural Eyes“, Verbum et Ecclesia, 43(1), 2422. https://doi.org/10.4102/ve.v43i1.2422, 29. 11. 2024.

Rebić, A. (1983), Biblical antiquities, Zagreb: KS.

Sell, H. T. (1925), Studies of Famous Bible Women, New York: Fleming H. Revell.

Smith, C. (1999), „Delilah: A Suitable Case for (Feminist) Treatment?”, (ed.) Athalya Brenner Judges – A Feminist Companion to the Bible, (93–116), Sheffield,  Sheffield Academic.

Spronk, K. (2014), „The Looks of a Hero: Some Aspects of Samson in Fine Arts“, (ed),  E. Eynikel & T. Nicklas Samson: Hero or Fool? ( 197–209). Brill.

Stocker, M. (1998), Judith: Sexual warrior; Women and power in Western culture, Yale University Press.

Wurtzel, E. (1998), Bitch: In praise of difficult women, London: Quartet Books; New York: Doubleday.

[1] According to the Bible, Samson, a biblical judge and Nazirite, was dedicated to God from birth, and the symbol of his dedication was his unshorn hair, the source of his supernatural strength (cf. Judges 13:3-5; Numbers 6). Born according to God’s announcement, he had the task of beginning the deliverance of Israel from the hands of the Philistines (Judges 13:5). His character carries important lessons about faithfulness to God and the dangers of yielding to temptations, which form the foundation for understanding Delilah’s role. In addition to his physical strength, Samson was also known for his wise riddles that the Philistines could not interpret.

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In ancient Roman society, honor, family loyalty, and sacrifice were paramount values, especially for women. Lucretia’s public confession and decision to commit suicide were not merely expressions of her pain but also responses to societal pressures that expected women to preserve familial honor, often at the expense of their own rights and autonomy.

The story of Lucretia raises critical questions about the connection between sexual violence and societal norms. Why was societal renewal based on her death rather than the condemnation of the perpetrator? Why must women in such situations prove their innocence by sacrificing their freedom or even their lives? Analyzing the myth of Lucretia provides insight into how sexual violence functions as a tool of domination and control, not only in the past but also today.

The Status of Women in Rome and the Significance of Chastity

Unlike their Greek contemporaries, Roman women enjoyed a more favorable social position, with opportunities to participate actively in public life. Examples such as Agrippina, the mother of Emperor Nero, testify to the growing political influence of women. Nevertheless, their social status was closely tied to their familial roles, particularly in upholding chastity (pudicitia). Marriage, formalized in various ways, was crucial to a woman’s social standing. Considered guardians of moral values, Roman women were symbols of sexual purity, which was essential for maintaining stability and peace. Exemplary figures like Lucretia, renowned for their moral chastity, were highly respected and esteemed, with their behavior reflecting the standards of their time (Čirilov, 2011: 22–23).

Serena Witzke, in her article „Violence against Women in Ancient Rome: Ideology versus Reality“ (2016), analyzes how narratives of violence against women in Rome shaped ideological attitudes toward women’s bodies and societal roles. While these narratives often depict extreme forms of violence, they served as moral lessons reinforcing societal ideals of honor. Witzke emphasizes that these narratives reflected ideals of morality and political stability rather than the everyday realities of women in the Roman Empire (Witzke, 2016: 250).

It is important to emphasize that the politics of sexual morality in Rome was based on two key concepts: (1) honor and shame and (2) tolerated prostitution, where prostitutes occupied a marginal social status. According to the first concept, a man—whether as pater familias or as a husband in a cum manu marriage—was responsible for protecting the family’s honor, including the sexual purity of the woman. A respectable Roman woman, such as a matron or mater familias, was obligated to preserve her sexual purity (pudicitia). A woman’s honor was not merely a personal attribute but was closely tied to the honor of the family to which she belonged. In this context, the responsibility for defending honor and avenging its violation was entrusted to men, who were considered the protectors of family honor (Glendinning, 2013: 63–68). Rape, understood as sexual intercourse against a woman’s will, during the Republican period, was left to private revenge. The punishment, depending on the status of the perpetrator, could include castration or death. Although Augustus’s lex Iulia de adulteriis coercendis declared rape illegal and punishable, it was only in late classical legal elaborations that crimes such as vis, stuprum, and iniuria atrox were defined, revealing how rape was legally categorized under these terms. This development allowed rape to serve as grounds for accusations before the permanent jury courts (quaestiones perpetuae), which were responsible for criminal investigations (Miletić, Jaramaz Reskušić, 2022).

Livy’s historical narratives include numerous examples of sexual violence against women, such as the stories of Lucretia, Verginia, and Rhea Silvia. These accounts are not merely historical anecdotes but allegories illustrating social dangers and reinforcing the patriarchal order. According to Witzke, the bodies of these women became political symbols through which societal and political upheavals were articulated. Sexual violence against women, though extreme, was not depicted as a violation of human rights but as a moral lesson intended to reinforce norms of honor and family loyalty (Witzke, 2016: 252).

Rape and Suicide

The tragedy of Lucretia begins with a wager among young Roman nobles, including Sextus Tarquinius, the son of the reigning king of Rome. The wager aimed to test the virtue of their wives by catching them unawares to observe their behavior in their husbands’ absence. In this test, Lucretia, the wife of Collatinus, stood out for her exceptional virtue and dedication to her household duties, in stark contrast to the behavior of other noblewomen, who indulged in luxury and leisure, neglecting their marital responsibilities (Livy, 2006; Harris, 2008: 2). Ancient sources portray Lucretia as the epitome of feminine virtue—not only morally pure but also skilled in domestic tasks like spinning wool. This idealized image of a woman was not just a reflection of individual qualities but served as a political tool in the early Roman Republic, where women’s honor was crucial to upholding societal norms (Beard, 2015).

Sextus Tarquinius, captivated by Lucretia’s appearance and virtue, decided to exploit his power and position to disgrace her. Under the guise of hospitality, he visited her household with sinister intentions. After everyone in the house had fallen asleep, Tarquinius entered Lucretia’s chamber, brandished a sword, and demanded she submit to him. Lucretia displayed great courage, refusing his advances despite threats to her life. Tarquinius escalated his threats by declaring that he would kill her and place her naked body next to that of her servant, thereby publicly disgracing her and falsely accusing her of adultery with someone of lower social status (Livy, 2006).

Within the patriarchal framework of Roman society, Lucretia believed her family’s honor was irreparably tarnished. Although she was the victim of violence, Lucretia felt that the only way to erase the shame was through her death. She summoned her father, husband, and uncle, confessing what had happened with the words, I have lost my honor. Despite their assurances that her honor remained intact, Lucretia insisted that death was the only way to restore her family’s dignity and took her own life (Ovid, 2000). Her death became a catalyst for political change in Rome. Her sacrifice sparked a revolution: Brutus and Collatinus expelled King Tarquin and his family from Rome, laying the foundation for the Roman Republic. Lucretia’s exposed body became a symbol of resistance against monarchy and a reminder of the royal family’s cruelty. This moment of political catharsis marked the beginning of a new form of governance, with Brutus and Collatinus becoming the Republic’s first consuls, ushering in a new political era (Aeschylus, 2009).

In ancient Rome, raped women were not deemed guilty of a crime because it was believed that „where there was no consent, there was no guilt“ However, a romanticized view of this story perpetuated the idea that raped women had to be broken by sorrow but also strong enough to preserve their family’s honor, which sometimes entailed suicide, as in Lucretia’s case. Livy records that her death incited an uprising among Romans, the expulsion of the royal family, and the establishment of the Republic (Livy, 2006). Lucretia’s story symbolizes the sacrifice of honor and political transformation. Despite her innocence, the burden of preserving family dignity fell upon her, and for Lucretia, suicide was the ultimate act of loyalty and responsibility.

Artistic and Cultural Representation of Lucretia’s Suffering

Konstantin Tanev, in his analysis The Case of Lucretia – Symbolizing the Political Reality (2022), emphasizes how Lucretia’s story reflects the societal values and political context of the Roman Republic. He particularly highlights the role of paternal authority within the family and the importance of chastity (castitas) as a fundamental moral principle. These values were crucial for maintaining social stability in Roman society, especially during the Punic Wars (Tanev, 2022). Lucretia’s tragic fate evolved into a symbol of abstract ideals such as patriotism, the fight for freedom, loyalty, and, above all, female chastity. While early Christian authors often condemned her suicide as a mortal sin, Lucretia’s story remained deeply embedded in Roman culture, which revered women’s moral and sexual purity (Noura, 2021).

Lucretia’s choice of death over a life of dishonor represented an expression of integrity and responsibility to society, making her a symbol of moral rectitude. In 16th-century art, artists like Albrecht Dürer and Lucas Cranach depicted Lucretia as an isolated figure, emphasizing her suffering and sacrifice. In this way, she became a symbol of the struggle for honor and freedom, inspiring artists and fostering moral debates. The motif of Lucretia’s rape became a central theme in numerous artistic and literary works. In Renaissance art, scenes like Titian’s and Gossaert’s The Rape of Lucretia vividly portray the dramatic moment of violence, while writers such as William Shakespeare in The Rape of Lucrece and Giovanni Boccaccio in Lucrezia explore the moral and political consequences of her fate. Shakespeare focuses on the moral dilemma surrounding her suicide and the political upheaval it provokes, while Boccaccio emphasizes Lucretia’s chastity and her fight for social justice (Klindiest, 2018).

Pizan: There Is No Justification for Rape!

In her book The City of Ladies (2003), Christine de Pizan expresses her outrage at claims that still resonate in society today, such as the belief that women allegedly enjoy rape or that they don’t mind being forced, even when they loudly resist. She argues that such statements are not only incorrect but deeply dangerous, as they justify violence against women. She strongly opposes any relativization of violence, emphasizing that it stems from patriarchal beliefs that depict women as objects rather than subjects of their rights. For Pizan, rape is a crime that cannot have any justification. Through the story of Lucretia, Pizan portrays this woman as a tragic symbol of the victim of male violence. Lucretia, known for her innocence, becomes the target of Tarquinius Superbus, who abuses his power to control her body. After his attempts at manipulation and bribing with gifts fail, he resorts to threats and violence. Lucretia, aware that society would disregard her claim of innocence, decides that death is the only way to preserve her honor. Her statement, “Even if it is true that I could be forgiven for a mistake and prove my innocence, I still could not escape shame and punishment,” speaks to the inner struggle caused by societal pressure that imposes a value based solely on purity (Pizan, 2003: 136).

Pizan sharply criticizes societal norms that equate women with their purity, pointing out that society even rejects an innocent victim. She opposes any attempt to justify rape, viewing it as violence that must be strictly punished. She highlights the need for changes that will establish a society based on respect for women’s rights and dignity, rather than justifying violence against them. Pizan believes that the death penalty for rapists would be an act of social responsibility to protect a woman’s honor, not an act of revenge (Pizan, 2003, pp. 136-137). Pizan’s critique goes beyond condemning rape; she calls for profound social transformation. The integrity of a woman’s body and her personal freedom, in her view, must become fundamental societal values.

How to Break the Myths?

The term „rape culture“ which emerged during the second wave of American feminism in the 1970s, describes a society in which violence against women, including sexual violence, is normative and accepted behavior. This culture implies social tolerance for sexual violence against women and children, where sexual violence becomes a daily occurrence that does not provoke condemnation (Rasmusson, 2004: 39). Rape culture also includes myths that justify violence, such as the belief that women want to be sexually possessed or that they provoke rape (Field, 2004: 175; Radačić, 2014: 205). Such myths minimize the seriousness of violence and perpetuate the belief that it results from women’s behavior, not male domination. In patriarchal social structures, where sexism shapes everyday behavior, sexual violence is often justified as a necessary evil or a consequence of women’s actions. Research shows that rape victims experience deep emotional and psychological trauma that lasts for months or years, but it is often minimized or ignored due to societal myths that blame women for the violence they have suffered (Burgess, Holmstrom, 1979: 360).

Feminist critique emphasizes that Lucretia is not portrayed as a person with her own desires and rights, but as a symbol of moral values that society must preserve. Her death, caused by the act of rape, becomes a binding call to restore honor and societal virtues. The female body, in this context, serves as a political instrument, and the woman is portrayed solely as a guardian of purity, whose behavior determines the social order. This view reflects the patriarchal dynamic in which a woman’s value lies not in her personal rights, but in the roles she plays within the rigid structures of family and community. Feminist theory seeks to find answers and criticizes such narratives within the context of patriarchal norms, calling for their reconstruction.

The social renewal in the context of Lucretia’s case is based on her death after the rape, not on the condemnation of the perpetrator, because society often places the victim in a position where she must prove her „innocence“ Instead of punishing the perpetrator, the victim is forced to sacrifice her own freedom or life to satisfy societal norms that impose great responsibility on her for her own honor and morality. This approach perpetuates inequality between men and women and denies women the right to justice. Lucretia’s story also reveals how societies shape the concepts of female honor, often minimizing the seriousness of violence against women. Rape culture, which shifts the responsibility for violence from the perpetrator to the victim, is still prevalent. Susan Brownmiller, in her work Against Our Will: Men, Women, and Rape (1975), analyzes how societies often treat rape as an acceptable act and blame the victims for „provocation“ This pattern is present in Lucretia’s story, where victims become symbols of the fight for honor, while perpetrators remain unpunished. Myths about women as provocateurs of violence, who fabricate accusations to gain attention, are deeply rooted and diminish the seriousness of sexual violence. They normalize violence as a means of control and domination over women. Women who survive rape are often stigmatized, considered „unclean“ and many are emotionally drained from the constant blaming.

As a society, we must provide a safe environment in which victims can openly speak about their experiences without fear of judgment. Legal and psychological support, as well as support from family and the community, are crucial in the healing process. It is important to educate the community about what rape is and how society can fight against rape culture. Additionally, programs need to be developed that help victims overcome feelings of shame and guilt through therapy, group support, and empowering women to recognize their inner strength and value.

LITERATURE

Aeschylus M. (2009), Prometheus Bound and Other Plays ( P. Vellacott , trans.) New York: Penguin Classics.

Beard, M. (2015), SPQR: A History of Ancient Rome, New York: Liveright Publishing.

Brownmiller, S. (1975), Against Our Will: Men, Women, and Rape, New York: Bantam Books.

Burgess, A. Holmstrom, L. (1979), „Adaptive Strategies and Recovery from Rape. Violence and Terrorism“, The American Journal of Psychiatry, 139(9), 353–365.

Ćirilov, J. (2011), Mothers of famous people, Beograd: Laguna.

Donaldson, I. (1982), The Rapes of Lucretia: A Myth and Its Transformations, Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Field, R. E. (2004), „Rape Culture“, u M. D. Smith (ur.), Encyclopedia of Rape (174–175). Westport, CT: Greenwood Press.

Harris, J. (2008), „Tarquin and Lucretia (Rape of Lucretia)“, Archives of General Psychiatry, 65(3): 250–251.

Glendinning, E. (2013), „Reinventing Lucretia: Rape, Suicide and Redemption from Classical Antiquity to the Medieval Era“, International Journal of the Classical Tradition, 20(1/2), 1-22.

Jaffe, M., Goren, K. (1987), „Titian’s Tarquin and Lucretia in the Fitzwilliam“, Burlington Magazine, 129, 162–172.

Klindiest, P. (2018), „Ritual Work on Human Flesh: Livy’s Lucretia and the Rape of the Body Politic“, Helios, 17(1), 14–32.

Livy (2006), The History of Rome (B. O. Foster, trans.), Boston: Harvard University Press..

Milotić, I., Jaramaz Reskušić, I. (2022), „Crimes Against Sexual Morality in the Vrsar Legal Collection: Canonical Nature and Roman Models (Ideological Foundations in Roman Law)“, Hrvatski ljetopis za kaznene znanosti i praksu, 29(1), 59–87.

Noura, N. (2021), „Lucretia“, Women’n Art, https://womennart.com/2021/02/10/lucretia/ ( 13. 11. 2024).

Ovid. (2000), Metamorphoses (A. D. Melville, trans..), Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Pizan, C. de (2003), The Book of City of Women, Suzana Parlov(transI, Beograd: Feministička.

Radočić, I. (2014), Sexual Violence: Myths, Stereotypes, and the Legal System, Zagreb: TIM press.

Rasmusson, S. L. (2004), „Celebrity Rapists“, u M. D. Smith (ed.), Encyclopedia of Rape (36–39). Westport, CT, London: Greenwood Press.

Tanev, K. (2022), „The Case of Lucretia – Symbolizing the Political Reality“, Právněhistorické studie, 52(3), 11–23.

Witzke, S. (2016), „Violence Against Women in Ancient Rome: Ideology Versus Reality“, Topographies of Ancient Greek and Roman Violence, 2(26), 248–274.

[1][1] Modern historians highlight several key authors who shaped this legend, including the poet Quintus Ennius (239 – around 169 BCE), the historian Fabius Pictor (270 – 215/200 BCE), and the poet Lucius Accius (170 – around 86 BCE). Later, the story was further shaped by Marcus Tullius Cicero (106 – 46 BCE) and historians of the late Republic, such as Titus Livius (64/59 BCE – 17 CE), Dionysius of Halicarnassus (60 BCE – after 7 BCE), and Diodorus Siculus (died around 30 BCE). The most important sources for the story of Lucretia come from Livy (27 and 25 BCE), Dionysius (7 BCE), Ovid (a few years later), Diodorus (1st century BCE/ between 60 and 30 BCE), and Plutarch (after a century). These versions were created almost simultaneously, while later authors like Valerius Maximus, Florus, and Cassius Dio developed various versions of the same story during the first, second, and third centuries CE (cf. Donaldson, 1996; Tanev, 2022)

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Philosopher Aspasia defied strict societal norms through her life and actions. As a woman known for her intellectual sharpness, pedagogical skills, philosophy, rhetoric, and oratory, she faced obstacles that rarely allowed women the right to have a voice and express themselves. Her position as the esteemed companion of Pericles and a recognized intellectual—remarkable in Athens, where silence and invisibility were considered the greatest virtues for women—was undoubtedly linked to her status as a metoike (a foreigner with permanent residency). This status deprived her of the right to marry Pericles but allowed her the freedom to be seen, think, and express herself (Loraux, 2021: 9).

This text explores Aspasia’s philosophical journey, including her role in Plato’s Menexenus (2001) and her position within the community as a hetaera. We will examine how prejudices against her as a lover and a woman with allegedly immoral behavior shaped her legacy in philosophy and oratory. The focus will be on the reasons for the suppression of her role as a rhetorician and the consequences for the perception of her contributions to philosophy. The lack of sources about women in philosophy inspires the search for answers to important questions: How did Aspasia, despite these limitations, manage to contribute to the development of rhetoric and philosophical thought and become a teacher of rhetoric in a male-dominated world? What price did Aspasia have to pay for her engagement, and can her work be seen as a precursor to the struggle for women’s right to public oratory?

The Position of Women in Ancient Greek Philosophy

In ancient Greece, philosophy represented the pinnacle of intellectual and cognitive achievements, yet women were almost entirely excluded from this discipline. The democracy of ancient Greece, which is still considered a model of democratic governance, did not include all social classes; the right to political participation was reserved for free male citizens, while slaves, foreigners, and women were excluded. Aristotle justified this exclusion with the „natural order“ establishing deeply rooted rules that aimed to prevent women’s involvement in philosophy and science (Karapetrović, 2007). Despite these obstacles, some women still managed to make an impact in philosophical discourse. Aspasia, for example, distinguished herself as a thinker and orator who shaped the political and philosophical ideas of her time. She participated in the highest Athenian circles and gained great renown. In addition to Aspasia, women such as the Cynic philosopher Hipparchia and the Neoplatonist Hypatia also made significant contributions to philosophy. Hipparchia, known for questioning traditional roles, lived by the moral principles she advocated, making her philosophy an act of personal resistance. Hypatia, recognized for her exceptional work in mathematics and philosophy, symbolizes the intolerance towards female intellectual autonomy—her tragic death illustrates how women were subjected to patriarchal oppression (Atanasijević, 2009: 112).

Professor Milena Karapetrović, in her books Ona ima ime  (She has an name) (2007) and Filozofkinje: Ogledi iz feminističke filozofije i ontologije roda (“Philosophers: Essays on Feminist Philosophy and the Ontology of Gender) (2020), investigates the causes and consequences of the historical marginalization of women in philosophy. Analyzing how women, despite long exclusion from philosophical literature, shaped philosophical traditions, Karapetrović emphasizes their courage and persistence in fighting for recognition of their intellectual voices and contributions. Her works reveal numerous layers of misogynistic prejudice, buried in dust, that limited women’s access to education and philosophical discussions. Contributions from female philosophers like Diotima, Aspasia, Hipparchia, and Hypatia prove that philosophy is not exclusively a male domain but a universal heritage for the common good of humanity. Through feminist philosophy, Karapetrović calls for a reevaluation of the role of women in this discipline, the affirmation of their voices, and the reinterpretation of the history of philosophy, thus expanding space for female perspectives in contemporary philosophical discourse.

From Hetaera to Philosopher

Aspasia, known as the intellectual partner and life companion of Pericles, remains an exceptionally important and fascinating figure of classical Greece. During Pericles’ era (around 460–430 BCE), when Athens flourished under his leadership, Aspasia, as a free-thinking philosopher, managed to secure a unique position in this dynamic environment. Born in Miletus, in Asia Minor, Aspasia was considered a foreigner in Athens, which legally prevented her from marrying Pericles, but at the same time, it granted her the freedom rarely enjoyed by Athenian women (Lauroux, 2021).

Aspasia’s name, which means „she who welcomes“ was associated with the Athenian class of „companions“ or hetaerae, a social class that included educated women. The Greek word for „welcoming“ was used as a euphemism for closeness and intimacy, further complicating her role (Blöndal, 1990). While information about her family is scarce, it is believed that they belonged to the wealthy class, as only wealthy families could afford the education that Aspasia received. Little is known about the circumstances of her arrival in Athens; Plutarch notes that Pericles fell in love with her due to her wisdom and political insight (Plutarch, 1963: 142). Eshin highlights that Lisicles, a cattle merchant, became one of the more prominent Athenian citizens after Pericles’ death, thanks to her influence.

To understand Aspasia’s position, it is essential to comprehend the specific status of hetaerae in ancient Greece. Although they enjoyed certain privileges, hetaerae were subject to contempt and moral stigmatization due to their social roles. Their position was ambivalent—they had freedoms unattainable for ordinary women, but they were simultaneously subject to social mistrust, suspicion, and condemnation. Authors such as Marilyn B. Skinner (2005) in Sexuality in Greek and Roman Culture (2013) and James Davidson in Courtesans and Fishcakes: The Consuming Passions of Classical Athens (1998) point out the complexity of societal attitudes towards hetaerae. Unlike most women in Greece, hetaerae were educated and knowledgeable in the arts, music, literature, and philosophy, which allowed them to participate in various symposia, where men gathered for conversation and entertainment. Additionally, some hetaerae earned economic profits from their services, granting them a certain form of freedom. However, despite the apparent sexual freedom and social skills, hetaerae were often stigmatized because their reputation was ambiguous. While they were valued as lovers and companions, they were excluded from the institution of marriage, and their reputation depended on the men with whom they were associated (Davidson, 1998; Škuljević, 2020). This paradoxical position of hetaerae reflects the complexity and contradictions of that time, offering women an opportunity to express themselves outside traditional frameworks but also exposing them to dangerous obstacles arising from the patriarchal society, which frequently subjected women to open contempt.

In such an environment that strongly marginalized and abused women, Aspasia used her position to engage in political discussions, despite prejudices about her moral value and the legitimacy of her influence (Davidson, 1998). Her determination to prove that women could be educated and intellectually equal to men permanently marked the history of women’s intellectual contributions.

Rhetorical Skills in Plato’s Dialogue Menexenus

In the dialogue Menexenus (2001), Plato mentions Aspasia, who, in Socrates’ speech, offers an emotionally and morally binding vow for the fallen warriors. In Aspasia’s oration, it is emphasized that the highest expression of respect that the state can offer to the fallen heroes is the continuous care for their families. According to her, the state should provide special protection to the parents and children of those who gave their lives in battle, ensuring their well-being through legal frameworks and protecting them from any possible injustice (Karapetrović, 2007: 17). At the beginning of the Menexenus dialogue, the main theme is the content and form of the funeral oration, which Menexenus and Socrates ironically discuss. In such a speech, not only the heroism of the fallen is celebrated but also the power of the state. Socrates points out the rulers’ need to emphasize their victories by using the sacrifices as symbols of success (Karapetrović, 2020; Henry, 1995).

However, this type of speech requires a special skill. Therefore, Socrates emphasizes that the speakers must be those who can be trusted on their word. He cites Aspasia as an example. Aspasia stood out as an exceptionally gifted orator, known for her communication and persuasive skills. Her ability to convey complex ideas clearly and convincingly allowed her to influence various social groups and gain respect even among male intellectual and moral authorities. Moreover, her improvisational skill was crucial for her success at symposia, where she had the opportunity to participate in debates and shape public opinion. Through her skillfully argued speeches, Aspasia not only expressed her own views but also stimulated dialogue on important issues, significantly contributing to the social and political atmosphere of her time. Socrates affirms: She learned the same as you said just now—that the Athenians intend to choose a speaker; then she told me what should be said, partly improvising on the spot, partly delivering what she had already prepared, and it seems to me that she combined some remaining parts of the funeral oration that Pericles had delivered (Plato, 2001).

However, in the continuation of the text, an ironic attitude towards Aspasia’s role appears. Menexenus, almost disbelieving, asks Socrates: “Do you claim, Socrates, that Aspasia is blessed? Is it possible that, although a woman, she composed such a powerful speech?” (Plato, 2001). This remark reflects the deeply ingrained doubt about the intellectual and mental capacity of women, especially in the domains of philosophy and public speaking. The criticism Aspasia faces is not due to any lack in her argumentation but because of the very act of presenting public and persuasive arguments, which was considered an exclusive male right. This example highlights a key issue in feminist discourse: why is it that a society, led by male intellectual and moral authorities, cannot accept and respect a woman who enters the public sphere as an equal? Aspasia’s voice, though strong and well-founded, is silenced by society because it challenges traditional paradigms. The refusal to acknowledge her equality points to a fear that a woman might articulate her thoughts just as clearly, logically, and bravely as men, presenting them to the public.

In his article „Why Is Aspasia a Woman? Reflections on Plato’s Menexenus“ (2016), Peter Adamson portrays Aspasia as a controversial figure who sparked extreme reactions: political opponents of Pericles hated her, calling her a prostitute, while on the other hand, Socrates’ and Plato’s disciples valued her wisdom and talent for speaking (Adamson, 2016). However, through a feminist critique, as noted by Sara Protasi, Adamson’s interpretation can be problematic because he portrays Aspasia solely as Plato’s mouthpiece, thereby perpetuating the idea that women in philosophy are merely pale reflections of men (Protasi, 2020). While Adamson points out that Plato uses Aspasia’s voice to present equal views, he does not acknowledge her original contribution. Adamson states: „If Plato was a man of his time in associating women with familial roles, he may have been unique in giving these women’s concerns broader philosophical significance“ (Adamson, 2016). Adamson does not consider the possibility that Aspasia, as a real person who communicated with Socrates and Plato, may have been the source of some of the views and ideas that Plato attributes to her (Protasi, 2020). The subsequent dialogue shows Aspasia as she could have been in Athenian society—respecting the highest values of that society and glorifying the role of war and male figures, which, after all, will be present throughout history. Karapetrović highlights that the example of Aspasia is one of those that best illustrates the complexity of the research endeavor when trying to answer the question of what role women played in certain periods of history and how their historical contributions should be represented appropriately (Karapetrović, 2020: 99).

Mary Ellen Waithe, in her book A History of Women Philosophers. Volume 1: Ancient Women Philosophers 600 B.C. – 500 A.D. (1987), notes that there are two main approaches to interpreting Plato’s Menexenus. The first approach dismisses this work as philosophically insignificant, although its proponents acknowledge that it puzzles them that Plato wrote a work that, according to their criticism, lacks philosophical depth. This approach suggests that Menexenus is more rhetorical than philosophical, as critics doubt the authenticity of the views presented. The second approach starts from the idea that Plato in Menexenus presents authentic views of Aspasia, recognizing her reputation as a distinguished philosopher and rhetorician. This perspective emphasizes that Aspasia, although a woman, is capable of contributing to philosophical discussions equally, perhaps even better than men (Waithe, 1987).

Feminist Analysis of Aspasia: Re-examining the Biographical Tradition

Feminist analysis of women in philosophy is crucial for understanding the historical development of women’s biographical narratives. Carolyn Heilbrun, in Writing a Woman’s Life (1998), emphasizes that women have historically been denied records that would allow them to take control of their own lives. Such biographies often contribute to the discrimination of women, which is intensified by the creation of false portraits. By analyzing Aspasia’s life through feminist and philological methods, we can explore how her biography and historical representations have been misinterpreted. Madaline Henry, in Prisoner of History: Aspasia of Miletus and Her Biographical Tradition, warns that data from ancient sources are often transmitted without further interpretation: “Biographical notes on Aspasia, created in antiquity, are vivid and sometimes hard to verify, but they are as such present even in the 20th century” (Henry, 1995: 3). This statement highlights the problem that arises when sources are not critically analyzed, especially when it concerns women. The lack of interpretation in transmitting biographical data can lead to the perpetuation of myths and stereotypes that further diminish the significance of a woman like Aspasia.

While ancient authors often emphasize her attractive appearance or her connections to powerful men like Socrates, they simultaneously overlook her contribution to philosophy and public discourse. This phenomenon suggests that female identity is often constructed through a male perspective, thereby reducing the true impact they had. Henry further analyzes how these biographical narratives have shaped the perception of Aspasia through the ages. These portrayals often serve to reinforce patriarchal biases, where women are presented as objects of sexual desire or assistants to powerful men, rather than as independent figures. As a result, Aspasia, who was an important figure in ancient Athens, often remains a „prisoner“ of her biographical traditions, which diminishes her ability to be seen as a serious philosopher.

Woven Path in Rhetoric

As an influential philosopher, Aspasia had a profound insight into the political potential of public argumentation and rhetoric. Her presence in Athenian politics did not go unnoticed; both Plato and Aeschines considered her a threat, criticizing her rhetorical skill and accusing her of deceiving the public about Greek history. This fear of her influence is further confirmed by her trial for impiety, which demonstrates how her contemporaries perceived her as a danger to moral standards (Waithe, 1987). Sofia Jansen, in her article The Reception of Aspasia in Classical Athens (2007), explores the complexity of Aspasia’s identity. Jansen analyzes how social and cultural contexts shaped her reputation, often depicting her as seductive and fatal, rather than as a serious woman, citizen, and politician. Through an analysis of comedies and philosophical texts, Jansen calls for feminist approaches to researching Aspasia’s life, emphasizing the need to reassess established narratives.

Aspasia, whom Socrates refers to as „the teacher of rhetoric“, symbolizes the female contribution to rhetoric and public speaking, yet her significance often remains unrecognized in academic debates. In literature concerning the art of delivering messages and motivational speeches, the lack of references to Aspasia and similar women raises the question of the systemic marginalization of women’s voices. This omission is not just an academic injustice; it is part of a broader educational issue that implies that women, despite their knowledge and skills, were not considered authoritative enough in the fields of rhetoric, speech, and articulation. The historical context in which Aspasia operated also underscores the importance of her legacy.

The results of various studies show that men in groups are 75% more likely to speak than women, indicating deeply ingrained gender differences in communication and power dynamics. When a woman speaks, she often faces interruptions or simultaneous speaking by men, suggesting that male voices are perceived as more authoritative. This phenomenon not only diminishes the significance of female voices but also creates pressure on women to withdraw or adjust, which can lead to a silence that “kills” their voice (Latinus, Taylor, 2011). According to research findings, the female voice is harder to register in the context of male attention and memory, further complicating the recognition and valuation of female opinions (Latinus, Taylor, 2011). In a society that often favors male dominance and speed in communication, women find themselves in a much more challenging position, where they must not only express their views but also fight against prejudices and stereotypes. Overcoming these challenges requires empowering women through education and the development of communication skills, as well as changing cultural norms that favor men. Actively involving women in public discourse and creating an inclusive environment is crucial for reducing disparities and increasing the recognition of female voices. Only in this way can we overcome the silence that discourages women and ensure that their voices are present and valued in public speech.

LITERATURA

Adamson, P., (2016.), „Why Is Aspasia a Woman? Reflections on Plato’s Menexenus“ https://www.academia.edu/35587971/Why_is_Aspasia_a_Woman_Reflections_on_Platos_Menexenus 27. 10. 2024.

Atanasijević, K., (2009.), The Ethics of Feminism ed.Ljiljana Vuletić, Beograd: Helsinški odbor za ljudska prava u Srbiji.

Blöndal, S., (1990.), A History of the Hellenistic World, New York: Viking Press.

Davidson, J., (1998.), Courtesans and Fishcakes: The consuming passions of classical Athens, London: Fontana.

Heilbrun, C., (1988.), Writing a Woman’s Life, New York:Ballantine Books.

Henry, M., (1995.), Prisoner of History. Aspasia of Miletus and Her Biographical Tradition, New York, Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Jansen, S., (2007.), „The reception of Aspasia in classical Athens: A case study in gender and the construction of reputation“, L. Foxhall , J. B. Wilkins (ed.), Producing women: The roles of women in the cultural life of ancient Greece ( 17-35), Classical Press of Wales.

Karapetrović, M., (2007.), She Has a Name: On Philosophy and Feminism, Banja Luka, Bijeljina: Organizacija žena „Lara.“

Karapetrović, M., (2021.), Women Philosophers: Essays on Feminist Philosophy and the Ontology of Gender, Banja Luka: Filozofski fakultet Univerziteta u Banja Luci.

Latinus, M., Taylor,M., (2011.), „Discriminating Male and Female Voices: Differentiating Pitch and Gender“, Brain Topography 25(2):194-204.

Loarux, N., (2021.), „Aspasia, Foreigner, Intellectual“, Journal of Continental Philosoph, 1 (2), 9-32.

Platon, (2001.), Meneksen, Beograd: Rad.

Plutarh, (1963.), Athenian and Roman Statesmen (Selection from the Parallel Lives), Beograd: Prosveta.

Protasi, S., (2020.). „Teaching Ancient Women Philosophers: A Case Study“, Feminist Philosophy Quarterly 6(3), 1- 26.

Skinner, M. (2013.), Sexuality in Greek and Roman Culture, New Jersey: Wiley-Blackwell Publishing.

Škuljević. Ž., (2010.) „The Saga of Aspasia and Pericles. Heterosexuality and (Im)morality of the Greek Marriage” „Arhe VII. 14(149), http://arhe.ff.uns.ac.rs/index.php/arhe/article/view/1251 25. 10. 2024

The post Aspasia’s Thought: How Patriarchal Prejudices Attempted to Erase Her Talent and Potential? appeared first on FER ŠKOLA.

The Sabine women, as central figures in one of the most famous episodes of ancient Roman history (Bauman, 1992; Bauman, 1994), stand as a positive example of women’s peace initiatives in the face of injustice. Their story transcends historical boundaries and emerges as a powerful symbol of women’s involvement in the pursuit of peace and social stability. Despite being subjected to kidnapping, forced marriages, and patriarchal norms, these women managed to reshape their fate and become agents of peaceful change in a society that initially viewed them merely as objects (Beard, 2015; Beard, 2017). Today, their example can be viewed through the lens of several important themes that this text will explore, including the abuse of women’s bodies during conflicts and the role of women in peace negotiations, framed within the ethics of care, responsibility, and non-violent communication.

What is the historical significance of the Sabine women, and what made them famous? What provoked their reaction, and how did they manage to secure peace? How courageous was their act given the context of their times, and what risks did they face in their struggle? What were the concrete outcomes of their actions, and how can their poise and empathy inspire today’s efforts by women resisting oppression? Lastly, what lessons can contemporary society draw from their actions, particularly in the realm of non-violent resistance? These questions aim not only to deepen the understanding of the historical context and influence of the Sabine women but also to highlight their lasting significance in contemporary struggles for women’s rights and freedoms.

Sources on the Sabine Women

From the very founding of one of the most renowned cities in history, women’s hands  have shaped the destinies of its people. The eternal city of Rome is enveloped in numerous legends about its origins, the most famous being the story of the brothers Romulus and Remus. The first accounts of the Sabine women come from Roman historical and literary works, which not only document events but also shape how these events were perceived across centuries. These early writings serve as both historical records and valuable literary sources for understanding the social, moral, and political implications of the story within Roman culture and its broader cultural legacy (Dench, 2005).

The Sabine tribe is believed to have been one of the Italic peoples of ancient Italy. Many scholars speculate that their language was originally Greek, as they may have migrated from what is now Turkey. The Sabines inhabited the Apennine Peninsula, including the region of Abruzzo, known as Latin Sabina, located northeast of Rome (Forsythe, 2005; Brown, 2005).

The most important early historical accounts of the abduction of the Sabine women come from Roman and Greek historians such as Titus Livius, Plutarch, and Dionysius of Halicarnassus. Each of these authors offers both similarities and differences in their interpretations of the event, which played a crucial role in the development of early Rome and its societal fabric. In what follows, we will present their versions of the event and analyze how the abduction of the Sabine women impacted Roman society and politics, as well as Rome’s relations with other nations. By studying their approaches, we can understand the complexity and layered nature of this event, which, according to legend, marked the beginning of Rome’s emergence as a dominant power, showcasing its ability to integrate, assimilate, and transform under the influence of other cultures.

The most comprehensive version of the story is provided by the Roman historian Titus Livius (59 BC – 17 AD) in his work From the Foundation of the City (1.9-13). Livy’s account is one of the most detailed and complete historical records of early Roman history, and his narrative of the abduction of the Sabine women plays a crucial role in shaping the Romans’ collective consciousness of their past. The story is inextricably linked with the founding of Rome by Romulus, who established the city on the Palatine Hill after killing his brother Remus. The city grew rapidly, creating a demand for a larger population. To address this need, Romulus began attracting people from surrounding regions, including fugitives, positioning Rome as a haven for those seeking a fresh start. Despite Rome’s rapid rise in power and influence, it faced a critical shortage of women. According to Livy, Romulus initially sent envoys to neighboring communities to propose alliances and arrange marriages, but his overtures were rejected. Faced with the failure of diplomacy, Romulus devised a different plan: he organized a festival in honor of the god Neptune and invited neighboring tribes, including the Sabines and their families. During the festivities, Roman men seized the opportunity to abduct the unmarried women, while their families, in shock, fled in terror. The tribes whose daughters had been taken soon launched retaliatory attacks on Rome, but the Roman forces successfully repelled each assault, expanding their territory in the process. The final and most significant battle was waged against the Sabines, led by their king, Titus Tatius. Tatius managed to infiltrate Rome by bribing the daughter of the commander of the Roman fort, Tarpeia persuading her to allow the Romans to enter the city. After the Sabines by trick  entered Rome and seized control of the Roman fort, the conflict between the Romans and the Sabines reached its peak. However, the Sabine women intervened, pleading with both sides to end the hostilities. They acknowledged that they were the cause of the conflict and implored the warring parties to direct their anger at them, rather than destroy each other (Livy, 2002).

Ancient sources offer differing motivations for the abduction. According to Livy, the primary aim was to increase the population of Rome, without any intent of sexual violence. Livy asserts that the women were given freedom of choice and were granted civil and property rights, as Romulus framed the abduction as a response to the pride of fathers who refused to allow marriages between their daughters and their neighbors. In contrast, Ovid describes the abduction as an act meant to satisfy the sexual desires of Roman men, rather than an attempt to form families (McIntosh, 2022).

Plutarch, in his Life of Romulus, focuses on Romulus, the legendary founder of Rome. According to Plutarch, Romulus faced a critical issue: the lack of women in the new city, which threatened its survival and growth. To resolve this, Romulus organized a festival in honor of the god Neptune, during which the Sabine women were kidnapped while their male relatives were distracted. Plutarch emphasizes that the abduction served two purposes: to secure offspring for the Romans and to establish alliances with neighboring peoples. After the abduction, Romulus promised the women certain community rights, including property shares and Roman citizenship, thus ensuring their integration into Roman society. Confronted with war, the Sabine women chose to mediate and halt the conflict, facilitating the creation of a unified Roman-Sabine community (Plutarch, 2007).

Dionysius of Halicarnassus, in his Roman Antiquities (1937), provides a more detailed examination of the historical and cultural context. He describes Romulus’s plan to deceive neighboring peoples and force them into marriages with Romans, using the festival as a pretext for the abduction. Dionysius highlights Romulus’s use of surprise to execute the plan, as well as his ability to turn the Sabine women’s initial hostility into loyalty by offering them respect and Roman citizenship. This version sheds light on the pragmatic approach of the Romans and the social dynamics that facilitated the stabilization and expansion of the city (1937).

The abduction of the Sabine women blends mythological and historical elements. Fundamentally, this event belongs to the realm of mythological history, as it forms part of Roman mythology, which contains various stories the Romans used to explain and legitimize their social institutions and norms. While Plutarch emphasizes the moral and philosophical aspects of the tale, Dionysius focuses on the historical context and the analysis of its social implications.

Gary Miles’s Reconstructing Early Rome: The Regal Period (1995) offers insights into the historical narratives surrounding the Sabine women. Within this context, the role of women was largely passive, as they were treated as possessions transferred from fathers to husbands. The Romans viewed marriage as the primary means of establishing political and social ties, which in turn strengthened their influence. Thus, the proper implementation of the ritual of acquiring a wife was essential for respecting social norms and laws (Tuttle, 2014; Bush & McHugh, 1975). The Sabine women served a dual function: first, within institutionalized marriage, they ensured legitimate offspring for families and the state, and second, they acted as a bridge between the two peoples, enabling political and social connections. The abduction itself was a strategic prelude to a series of carefully orchestrated events. Although women were seen as lacking individual value, they became essential instruments in achieving Rome’s goals of expansion and consolidation (Miles, 1995).

According to Roman legends and historical sources, Romulus is often credited with initiating certain aspects of the institution of marriage in Rome, though he was not solely responsible for its development. As Livy recounts, Romulus instigated the abduction of the Sabine women to secure marriages between Romans and Sabines, thus laying the foundation for the integration of the two peoples and ensuring the survival of the Roman community. This event marked the beginning of the formalization of relations between men and women in Roman society (Livy, 2002). Romulus, according to legend, enacted some of the first marriage laws, including regulations defining the rights and duties of spouses, and is believed to have established rules regarding the sanctity of marriage and its indissolubility, except in cases of adultery or poisoning of the husband. In doing so, Romulus positioned himself as a moral authority in shaping marriage norms, which would later influence Roman society. However, the institution of marriage in Rome evolved under the influence of various cultural, legal, and political factors over the centuries, making Romulus’s contribution one of the first steps in a long process of developing marital customs and laws in Roman civilization. (Milnor, 2010.).

Abduction of the Sabine Women in a Feminist Context

The abduction of the Sabine women, viewed through a feminist lens, is critiqued as an act of violent conquest over both the female body and space, as well as a symbolic gesture of revenge. This event underscores a fundamental premise of patriarchal society: male control over the female body and its functions, with women’s roles reduced to biological tasks and subordination to men (Čaušević, Gavrić, 2011: 304). The Sabine women were “selected” to fulfill this purpose.

In “Woman and Early Rome as Exempla in Livy, Ab Urbe Condita Book 1”, Tom Stevenson (2011) explores the role of women in shaping Roman history up to the end of the monarchy. He criticizes Livy’s portrayal, arguing that Roman women are expected to conform to societal expectations, particularly the assumption that wives should offer unconditional support to their husbands. Livy, Stevenson notes, downplays women’s contributions, presenting them solely within a patriarchal framework. For instance, the interventions and counsel of women, such as the Sabine women, are often underrepresented. Stevenson argues that this creates a narrative of inherent instability in women’s contributions, leading men to be cautious of women’s influence in public life, even when these women advocate for peace and dialogue (Stevenson, 2011).

In her article “The Familiar Other: The Pivotal Role of Women in Livy’s Narrative of Political Development in Early Rome”, Jo Marie Claasen (1998) analyzes the status of the Sabine women and Livy’s recounting of their abduction. She points out that Livy’s narrative swiftly shifts from the violent abduction to a focus on the discipline and propriety of the would-be husbands. Romulus attempts to alleviate the fears of the kidnapped women by promising them full civil rights and a respected status as wives, emphasizing that each woman will stand to her husband “as her mother stood to her father” (1.9.9-16). This passage is critical because it grants the Sabine women civic status through their marriages to Romans, with Romulus using the opportunity to introduce the first laws, including iustum connubium (a Roman legal term for a marriage valid under all legal regulations). However, Claasen notes that Livy’s depiction of the Sabine women as legal wives reflects a later historical period, as ius connubii—the right to marry citizens of other cities—did not exist in Rome before the fifth century BCE (Claasen, 1998). In this context, the treatment of the Sabine women can be compared to other forms of sexual violence and exploitation of women. Although they are integrated into Roman society as legal wives with certain rights and social status, their abduction and forced marriages result in enduring traumas that cannot be fully mitigated by legal recognition or social standing.

The portrayal of the Sabine women as legitimate wives can be interpreted as an attempt to justify the violent act of abduction while emphasizing their contribution to the building of Rome. In contrast, women subjected to sexual violence and enslavement during wartime generally received no legal or social recognition. In such cases, women were treated solely as property, stripped of any rights or status. Although the Sabine women, despite the violence, were formally integrated into Roman society and granted a level of protection and rights, their personal integrity remained violated, and the psychological and emotional scars of the abduction were not healed or compensated by their legal or social status as wives. A feminist perspective enables a deeper critique of historical and cultural attitudes toward women, who were often treated as instruments in carefully planned political strategies, rather than as autonomous individuals with rights and dignity.In her comparative analysis “Marriage Customs of the Roman Republic and Livy’s Rape of the Sabine Women”, Kathleen Tuttle (2014) argues that Livy’s interpretation of the abduction reflects deeper political motives, which remain relevant today. Livy presents the abduction as a relatively smooth process that is eventually reconciled, a portrayal that can be misused to justify or normalize violence against women. This interpretation transcends its historical context, raising questions about how societies shape narratives that conceal or excuse injustices against women. Tuttle contends that Livy frames the marriage customs of the Roman Republic as a means of rationalizing the abduction, portraying it as an acceptable procedure within the political context of the time. This practice parallels contemporary, traditionally entrenched ways in which sexual violence is often romanticized or minimized (Tuttle, 2014).

Feminist theorists frequently argue that historical and cultural power structures shape perceptions of women’s bodies according to patriarchal norms (Brownmiller, 1995). In her work The Archive and the Repertoire: Performing Cultural Memory in the Americas, Diana Taylor observes that women’s bodies are often treated as “symbolic nationalperipheries“ in genocidal situations, indigenous women’s bodies and sexualities become targets due to what they represent—land, territory, reproduction, sovereignty, and the potential for an indigenous future (Taylor, 2003). Taylor’s analysis reveals a profound connection between violence against women and the broader political, cultural, and territorial contexts. In these circumstances, women’s bodies come to symbolize national and cultural values, and violence against them signifies an assault on the sovereignty and future of their people.

In the context of Livy’s depiction, Claasen notes that the Sabine “brides,” who are now mothers, are portrayed as creating a barrier between warring ancestors and wives with their bodies and children. This reflects the ideological use of women’s bodies as sites of conflict. Claasen highlights Livy’s ideological portrayal of women as a boundary between opposing men, suggesting that women are expected to endure blows from both sides, even though they did not actually suffer such violence. A key insight is that women possessed the power to halt inter-tribal conflicts by mediating family issues. Livy demonstrates how the Sabine grandfathers and grandmothers, through their daughters’ mediation, were integrated into Rome (I.13.1-6). The women were then honored by having parts of the city named after them (I.13.7,8) as a civic reward for their matrimonial loyalty (Claasen, 1998). This perspective uncovers how historical narratives can obscure real traumas and abuses while simultaneously using the female body as a tool for political stabilization and social recognition, leaving unresolved questions about women’s autonomy and rights in both historical and contemporary contexts.

Women’s Role in Building Peace

The question arises: how much progress has society made from the time of the Sabine women’s abduction to today? Despite some legislative advances, deeply entrenched patriarchal patterns continue to perpetuate violence against women. The use of women’s bodies for revenge and power, as well as their subjugation by men and conquerors, persists in both individual and collective relations. However, the story of the Sabine women has a more hopeful aspect. Analysis reveals that these women were crucial in reconciling the conflicting sides of the Sabines and the Romans. Driven by love and responsibility towards their families and communities, they undertook a courageous act of reconciliation, risking violence and defying the norms of their time that relegated them to passive roles.

In “City of Women” by Christine de Pizan^[1], one of the first theorists to seriously challenge the position and role of women in history and analyze misogyny, there is a recorded quote from Queen of Sabine women. Gathering all the women, including the pregnant and those with small children, she addressed them: “Dear ladies of the Sabinian kingdom, dear sisters and friends, I do not need to remind you how our husbands appropriated us. Therefore, our fathers and relatives have invited our husbands to the feast today. Regardless of the outcome of today’s bloody conflict, the result will be unfavorable to us. If our husbands are defeated, it will be a painful loss for us who love them, and our children will be left orphans. If, on the other hand, our husbands win and our fathers are executed, we will still be in despair over the calamity we have caused. What is done is done and cannot be undone. Therefore, we need to find a way to stop the war and establish peace” (de Pizan, 2003: 125). Moved by this plea, the men looked at each other and made peace. Thus, the queen’s prudence triumphed over egoism and the desire for revenge, as recorded in historical sources (Pizan, 2003: 125, 126).

Their attempt at reconciliation facilitated the integration of their families into the new community, ending the conflict and laying the groundwork for future unity among the tribes. This act became a symbol of nonviolent resistance and peacebuilding, demonstrating that women, despite being marginalized in public life, can significantly impact peace processes. The story of the Sabine women can inspire contemporary struggles against oppression, showing that nonviolent resistance and solidarity can bridge deep divisions. In today’s world, where many women face oppression, the experience of the Sabine women serves as a reminder of the power individuals, especially women, can wield in creating a more just society through nonviolent means. Their actions symbolize ethics, care, and responsibility towards future generations.

The theory of care, which has feminist origins, emphasizes the dynamics of power and privilege in society (Hamington & Flower, 2022: 14). Women in many societies play a crucial but often under-recognized role in peace negotiations, leveraging emotional intelligence and community concern to facilitate reconciliation and reconstruction. They often act as counselors, fostering dialogue and employing nonviolent communication and empathy to build trust. This approach, grounded in respect and understanding, can be pivotal in achieving sustainable peace and finding diplomatic solutions to conflicts.

LITERATURE

Bauman, Richard, (1992.), Women and politics in ancient Rome, Routledge, London.

Bauman, Richard, (1994.), „Tanaquil-Livia and the death of Augustus“, Historia 43(2), str.177-188.

Beard, Mary, (2015.), SPQR: A History of Ancient Rome. Liveright Publishing Corporation, London.

Beard, Mary, (2017.), Woman and Power a Manifesto, Profile Books. London.

Brown, Robert, (2005.), Livy;s Sabine Women and the Ideal of Concordia, The Johns Hopkins University Press.

Brownmiller, Susan, (1995.), Protiv naše volje, Zagorka, Zagreb.

Bush Archie,  McHugh, Joseph (1975.) „Patterns of Roman Marriage“, Ethnology 14(.1), str. 346-360.    

Claasen, Jo Marie (1998.), „The Familiar Other: The Pivotal Role of Women in Livy’s Narrative ‘Of Political Development in Early Rome“, Acta Classica XLI, str. 71-103.

Čaušević, Jasmina, Gavrić, Saša, (2011.), Pojmovnik LGBT kulture, Sarajevski otvoreni centar i Heinrich Böll Stiftung, Sarajevo.

Dench, Emma, (2015.), Romulus’ Asylum: Roman Identities from the Age of Alexander to the Age of Hadrian, Oxford University Press, Oxford.

Dionysius of Halicarnassus, (1937.), Roman Antiquities, pr. E. Cary, Loeb Classical Library, Harvard University Press, Boston.

Forsythe, Gary, (2005.), A Critical History of Early Rome: From Prehistory to the First Punic War, University of California Press, Berkley.

Hamington,Maurice, Flower, Michael, (2022.), Etika brige u doba prekarnosti, pr. Aida Spahić, TPO fondacija, Sarajevo.

Livy, (2002.), The Early History of Rome: Books I-V of the History of Rome from Its Foundation, pr. Aubrey de Sélincourt. Penguin Classics, New York.

Mclntosh, Mattnew, (2022.), „Sabines: A Story of Women, Assault, Subjugation, and the Birth of Ancient Rome“, Rewminate A Bold Blend of News and Ideas, https://brewminate.com/sabines-a-story-of-women-assault-subjugation-and-the-birth-of-ancient-rome/ posjećeno 26. 8. 2024.

Miles, Gary (1995), Livy – Reconstructing Early Rome, Cornell University Press, London.

Milnor, Kristina, (2010.), Women, The Oxford Handbook of Roman Studies, Oxford.

Pizan, de Christine, (2003.), La Cité des Dames (Grad žena), s francuskog jezika na srpski pr. Suzana Parlov, Feministička, Beograd.

Plutarch, (2007.), The Life of Romulus,Plutarch’s Lives, Harvard University Press, Boston.

Stevenson, Tom, (2011.), „Woman an Early Rome as Exempia in Livy, AB Urbe Condita Book 1“, Classical World 104(2), str.175-189.

Tuttle, Katleen, (2014.), „Marriage Customs of the Roman Republic and Livy’s Rape of the Sabine Women A Comparative Analysis“, Latin 323: Livy, str. 1- 12, https://www.academia.edu/7896235/Marriage_Customs_of_the_Roman_Republic_and_Livys_Rape_of_the_Sabine_Women – posjećeno 23. 8. 2024.

^[1] In a series of her texts, including *The City of Women* (La Cité des dames) and *The Book of the Three Virtues* (Le livre des trois vertus), Christine de Pizan examines the lives of women, critically assesses their social status, and challenges prevailing stereotypes. Through her works, she advocates for the acknowledgment and respect of female virtues and highlights the injustices and marginalization faced by women of her time.

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Sappho (Greek Σαπφώ, Sapphṓ; Latin Sappho) is considered the mother of lyric poetry in Western literature, and her influence remains evident even after several thousand years. Although her biography remains shrouded in mystery, it is believed that she was a priestess, a teacher of music and poetry, and a choir leader. Her songs were performed both independently and with the accompaniment of the lyre, which was the primary instrument for her compositions (Matojani, 2014:9; Pešić, 2020:60). She is also remembered for being the head of the first women’s club in the world, known as a thiasos (a type of female sisterhood bound by special relationships and rules). According to Milivoj Sironić and Damir Salopek, Sappho’s position as a teacher was based on her personal reputation, poetic and musical talent, and higher education. The mutual affection that connected Sappho with women in a circle closed to men but rich in spiritual freedom and a sense of beauty revealed a form of eros without restraint or barriers (Sironić, Salopek, 1977:67). Although many of her works have been lost over the centuries, the remaining fragments continue to captivate poetry lovers with their vivid imagery and evocative language, ensuring Sappho’s enduring status as an icon of Greek and world poetry.

The purpose of this essay is to highlight the importance of Sappho, present her rich literary heritage through the interpretations of the artists she inspired, and attempt to answer the following questions: How was her poetry transmitted and shared among people, and what insights does it provide into the cultural life of ancient Greek civilization? What role did poetry play in the education and social circles of that era? How did political and social circumstances influence her creativity? What kind of impact did Sappho have as an inspiration to writers and feminists?

The Rights and Position of Women in Ancient Greece

Regarding the position and rights of women in ancient Greece, it is important to note that each polis had its own approach to the rights, obligations, and freedoms of its inhabitants. In recent decades, numerous academic works have focused on understanding the position of women in the ancient world. These works span various fields, including archaeology, anthropology, philosophy, history, law, cultural studies, art, religion, and mythology. Notable examples include Women in Ancient Greece (1995) by Sue Blundell and Women’s Life in Greece and Rome: A Source Book in Translation (1992), edited by Mary Lefkowitz and Maureen Fant. This sourcebook offers a collection of texts that analyze the daily life of women in the ancient world, including their depiction in mythology. Another significant work is Women and Religion in the First Centuries of Christianity (2022), edited by John and Deborah Sawyer, which examines the role of women and concepts of femininity in ancient religions and explores the diversity of beliefs and contributions related to women.

The Island of Lesbos

According to Homer’s Iliad (2003), Lesbos was part of the kingdom of Priam, located in Anatolia. The island is best known as the home of the ancient Greek poetess Sappho, whose name became synonymous with lesbianism and influenced the modern perception of the term. It is also known as the “Island of Poets.” The etymology of the island’s name comes from the ancient Greek (Λέσβος, Lésbos, meaning “wooded” or “woody”), possibly borrowed from the Hittite language, given that the original Hittite name of the island was Lazpa. The older name of the island in Aeolian Greek was (Ίσσα, Íssa) (Mason, 2000). The inhabitants of Lesbos were historically noted for their distinctive sexuality. During the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, the island was associated with strong erotic connotations. The island gained a reputation for its liberal lifestyle, scandals, and sexual passion, partly due to the erotic nature of Sappho’s poetry and that of her contemporaries (Obradović, 2017). The term “lesbian” is one of the oldest to describe women who experience sexual attraction to other women. In lesbian feminist theory, this term signifies not only sexual orientation but also a complex social and political identity that challenges the strict norms of patriarchy, heterosexism, and phallocentrism (Hasanagić, 2014:27).

As Adrienne Rich notes, records of female same-sex relationships date back to antiquity. The historical dimension of women’s experiences, particularly their choices of female partners for love and sexual relationships, supports the thesis of the lesbian continuum (Rich, 1980). According to the European Union’s Glossary of Gender Terminology (2007), lesbianism is “a sexual orientation in which women are sexually and emotionally attracted to other women and represents a relationship in which a woman has emotional, sexual, and partner relationships with another woman/other women” (Borić, 2007:38). The concept of the lesbian continuum and lesbian existence is crucial for lesbian activism, which aims to challenge (hetero)patriarchal oppression and fight against lesbian invisibility (Borić, 2007:38).

The history of Sappho and lesbians in antiquity is thoroughly documented in the works of Nicole Albert, particularly in Lesbian Decadence: Representations in Art and Literature of Fin-de-Siècle France (2016). According to Albert, Sappho’s poetic involvement during that period reflects how the historical figure of a woman became central to a political struggle over her own sexuality and influenced contemporary notions of lesbian identity in Western discourse. Albert details historical depictions of lesbian relationships in art and literature, contrasting them with moralistic condemnations and former psychiatric classifications such as “inversion” and “perversion” (Albert, 2016).

Two Periods of Sappho’s Glory

Historical sources indicate two periods of significant impact for the Greek poet Sappho. Her first period of fame began during her lifetime when she composed and recited verses accompanied by the lyre. She is credited with innovating the pick, a new style of lyre, and the Mixolydian mode of music. The ancient Greeks and later the Romans admired her verses, and the Library of Alexandria compiled her works into nine books according to their metrical form. Her popularity endured for a millennium, with her poetry performed throughout the Mediterranean. However, over time, possibly due to intellectual or artistic decline or active censorship of her sensual lyrics, Sappho’s poems gradually fell into collective oblivion (Donne, 1992; Dollittle, 1982).

The second wave of her fame began with the European Renaissance and continues to this day. During this period, her verses were translated, and efforts were made to remember, read, and interpret the preserved fragments of her poetry. Some translators sought to fill in the gaps left by time precisely, while others freely renewed the texts, adapting them to different literary styles according to their own preferences (Rac, 1981:38; Lesky, 2001:144-146)

Sappho’s suicide and the stigmatization of “different women”

Unfortunately, the renowned poet was forced to leave her home due to societal pressure. People gossiped extensively about her private life and accused her of immoral behavior. She ultimately ended her life by jumping from the cliffs of Leukadia (Rac, 1981: 38; Lesky, 2001: 144–146). Denys Page, in his book Sappho and Alcaeus: An Introduction to the Studies of Ancient Lesbian Poetry (1955), notes that the lifestyle described in her poems led to various myths and stereotypes about her life. Allegedly, the poet decided to take her own life because the handsome Phaon rejected her love (Page, 1955).

The tragic story of Sappho is not merely a historical and mythological anecdote but a serious testament to the ongoing degradation of women throughout history. Women have often been the targets of accusations, leading to dangerous consequences such as discrimination, marginalization, and various forms of violence. The stigmatization of women due to their behavior or expression of free will is not a new phenomenon. History is replete with examples of women persecuted and punished for deviating from strictly defined norms. Sappho’s suicide invites us to reflect on our treatment of women who challenge societal expectations. It is crucial to work towards breaking stereotypes and prejudices and to create safe spaces where women are not labeled for their individuality and free expression. Only through education, awareness, and structural changes can we achieve fairer treatment for all.

Sappho’s Literary Legacy

Paraphrasing the anthology of the Alexandrian canon of lyric poetry in the Greek Anthology (1916), William Paton lists poems by “nine divinely inspired” (θεογλώσσους) female poets: Praxilla, Moero, Anita, Sappho, Erinna, Telesilla, Corinna, Nossida, and Myrtis, according to Antipater’s order. Sappho is particularly notable in the literary tradition of antiquity due to the preserved fragments of her writings, which were often quoted in later works and included in the canon of lyric poets (Campbell, 1983; Snyder, 1989). Along with Alcaeus and Anacreon, Sappho was a prominent representative of monodic lyrics. Greek lyric poetry includes three main types: melic, elegy, and iambic. According to Šimun Šonja (2015: 8), melic is considered “the fundamental type of lyrical poetry because it encompasses all lyrical forms performed with musical accompaniment. It is divided into monodic (for a solo voice) and choral (for multiple voices) melic” (Šonja, 2015: 9).

Only two of Sappho’s songs have survived, although she composed as many as nine collections, which were destroyed due to their perceived impropriety, along with several epigrams and fragments. Sappho wrote love songs, hymns, and epithalamia. Albin Lesky (2001: 147) suggests that she intended the epithalamia for choral performance and often composed wedding songs in dactylic meter, employing epic language resources. Edmonds’ 1922 edition of Lyra Graeca lists a total of 120 known songs or fragments by Sappho (Pešić, 2020). It is assumed that Sappho had her own collection of works, but it is not confirmed that they were published widely, as sometimes claimed. There is a possibility that the opening poem was preserved in an ancient collection, but this assumption remains unconfirmed.

One of her most famous fragments is Fragment 31: “My heart leaps in my chest every time I look at you for a moment: I am speechless, my tongue stumbles. A pleasant flame creeps under my skin, I can’t see anything in front of my eyes, my ears ring, cold sweat pours down me. I’m shivering, I’m wet as green grass” (Edmonds, 1922: 180). As Aleksandar Pešić notes in his doctoral dissertation Beautiful and Good in Plato’s Philosophy (2020), this fragment reflects erotic love and represents, in his opinion, the most authentic record of lesbian desire ever documented. This fragment has also been the subject of numerous debates and was often included in the cycle of wedding songs to avoid reflecting on Sappho’s sexual preferences towards women. As Pešić observes, the elements in this fragment affirm the existence of lesbian love in ancient Greece and provide insight into Sappho’s intimate life.

Another verse, “Stars around the moon bright. They hide their sparkling appearance. Whenever he shines the Earth [all]…with silver…” (Edmonds, 1922: 188), shows the poetess’s admiration for female beauty. Just as the silver moon eclipses all other stars with its brilliance, Sappho portrays the girl’s beauty as surpassing all others. The moon, illuminated by a silver glow, symbolizes overwhelming beauty that overshadows all other celestial bodies. It shines and radiates its beauty, and Sappho’s depiction embodies both inner and outer beauty. For Sappho, beauty includes a perfectly shaped body, a pleasant voice (frg. 30), a seductive laugh (frg. 31), beautiful eyes (frg. 44), a slender figure (frg. 82), and delicate feet (frg. S/A 16), highlighting physical attractiveness. Simultaneously, Sappho also considers certain objects beautiful, such as a dress (frg. 22), a golden wreath (frg. 33), a red robe (frg. 44), bright jewelry (frg. 44), a golden cup (frg. 44), ivory (frg. 44), and golden sandals (frg. 123) (Pešić, 2020: 66).

The dominant themes in her works are love and nature, often infused with humor and irony. She wrote with great enthusiasm about both joyful, sweet moments of love and the suffering caused by unhappy love. Due to her creative prowess, she earned the titles “tenth Muse” and “female Homer,” which were bestowed upon her in antiquity (Rac, 1981: 38; Lesky, 2001: 147).

Review of the literature on Sappho’s poetry

Her poetry has long been the subject of intense analysis and speculation, from antiquity to the present day. Various theories about her role, poetic voice, and sexual orientation have been presented by classical experts, poets, and feminist theorists, but Sappho remains a figure of great mystery. Much still needs to be discovered and communicated, especially since many of her works embody post-classical concepts.

The earliest literary document that may reflect the reception of Sappho’s poems is the collection Testimonia (2002) by the Greek poet Anacreon. This collection includes reports, facts, and assumptions from antiquity about Sappho. Among the preserved verses of Sappho, there is only one complete poem (the “Ode to Aphrodite”), approximately twelve significant fragments containing more than half of the original number of verses, a hundred short quotations from the works of other ancient authors, and about fifty pieces of papyrus (Anacreon, 2002). Satirical poems criticize women who left Sappho against her wishes or those who later turned their backs on her, such as Andromeda and Gorga. Contemporary literature on Sappho includes four dominant interpretations: Sappho as choir organizer, teacher, priestess, and banquet participant (Lardinois, 2022).

The English writer Algernon Charles Swinburne published his collection Poems and Ballads in 1866. Swinburne’s poetry was considered highly controversial due to its subversive and erotic references to Greek figures, including Sappho. In his popular poem “Saffics,” he refers to Sappho and her lover Anaktoria as lesbians and imagines their kiss. While Swinburne’s poems are expressions of his own creativity, they sought to emulate Sappho’s style. Although the term “lesbian” to refer to same-sex female relationships was first documented in 1870, four years after Swinburne’s collection was published, he is considered one of the first to popularize the term for female same-sex love (Swinburne, 2008).

One of the most significant books on Sappho’s literary legacy is Sappho: Memoir, Text, Selected Renderings, and a Literal Translation (1920), edited and translated from Greek into English by Henry Thornton Wharton, with paraphrased versions by Anne Burner. The author notes that the Greek poetess, admired for her unparalleled poetic expression by over eighty generations, was never fully accessible to English readers. As stated in the book’s introduction, the aim was to familiarize English readers—whether or not they understood Greek—with every word Sappho wrote, by translating all one hundred and seventy fragments (Wharton, 1920: 5).

In her book To Beauty: Erotological Reading of Sapphic Poetry (2016), Jelena Pilipović, a professor at the Department of General Literature and Literary Theory at the Faculty of Philology, University of Belgrade, explores the harmony in Sappho’s poetic expressions, which are imbued with fiery descriptions. She emphasizes that the same flame embraces Sappho’s eyes, spirit, and words, thus eroticizing and radiating refined aesthetics. Pilipović’s approach to Sappho’s poetry is guided by the Empedoclean principle of understanding the same with the same (Pilipović, 2016).

Feminist Criticism of Sappho’s Poetry

Sappho’s literary heritage provides a valuable framework for exploring important questions. How widespread were relationships between women in her time, and were they considered sexual or merely strong friendships? How did the social norms of the period affect the perception of such relationships?

Deborah and John Sawyer, in Women and Religion: Women in the First Centuries of Christianity (2022), argue that Sappho’s work represents a unique female voice that speaks to unrealized rights, longing for freedom, and the fight against oppression, implicitly addressing the concerns and interests of women. Particularly valuable are the descriptions of physical, psychological, and emotional development from girlhood to womanhood. An important aspect of this development, according to the Sawyers, is the emphasis on individual relationships between young women preparing for marriage and older women who mentored them, imparting skills such as singing, dancing, and performing religious ceremonies (Sawyer and Sawyer, 2022: 69). The older partner would initiate the younger one in sexual activities that could later be adapted for married life. Such same-sex relationships between mentor and student provided a safe space for acquiring and practicing these experiences (Fantham, 1984: 12-17).

Hannah Grover asserts that Aphrodite plays a key role in Sappho’s poetry, where she is depicted through romantic and feminine symbolism. Aphrodite’s presence strongly emphasizes the exclusivity of female experience and emotions (Grover, 2023). Sappho was associated with the cult of Aphrodite, possibly even as a priestess, while the older and younger women surrounding her on Lesbos participated in rituals dedicated to the goddess. Many of Sappho’s poems are filled with tender and loving descriptions of relationships, evoking natural imagery and illustrating intense emotional states. For example, “Come here, come to me from Crete, to this holy temple where you have a beautiful apple grove and the top of the altar from which incense is smoked. Where the sound of a cold stream caresses among the apple branches, a rose hides the whole place in shadow, and an enchanted dream descends from trembling petals. Where the meadow, on which the horses graze, flourishes in spring blossoms, and the wind gently blows… Where you, Aphrodite of Cyprus, taking (wreaths), harmoniously pour the nectar mixed with joy into the golden goblets” (Fragmentary Poem 32).

Ellen Greene points out that the reinterpretation of Sappho’s poetry is a compelling project for feminists because Sappho is the first writer to address the “forbidden lesbian subject,” focusing on female experience and love (Greene, 1996). Conversely, Julia de Milliano argues that studying Sappho’s literary works within their social and cultural context is necessary. This approach helps us understand how her poetry was received in her time and how it upheld values in social relationships. Instead of focusing primarily on her sexuality based on entrenched biases, it is crucial to explore the language and style used in her poems to understand Sappho in her own context (Milliano, 2021: 1).

Sappho’s Influence on the Artistic Expression of Famous Women Writers

Despite the fragmentary nature of her surviving works, Sappho remains a lasting symbol of lesbian love framed in the art of written expression, particularly evident in the works of poets and visual artists during the second wave of feminism. The resonance of her poetry is demonstrated in various ways during this period—from the periodical Echo of Sappho, dedicated to her memory, to the column “Dear Sappho” in The Lesbian Tide, and through numerous literary and artistic works inspired by her poetry. Her impact continues to be evident in works by authors after the 1970s, such as the song “Hubble Photographs: After Sappho” (2005) by the renowned feminist poet Adrienne Rich (Delgado, 2019).

By the late twentieth century, Sappho had become a symbol of the growing movement for LGBTQ rights. Queer women found representation in her poetry, idolizing Sappho and her contemporaries. Radclyffe Hall, an English writer known for her novel The Well of Loneliness (1928), dealt with themes of lesbian love and identity. Her controversial work, despite facing resistance and censorship, reflects the impact of Sappho’s courage in articulating same-sex love and fighting for acceptance in conservative environments. Sidney Abbott and Barbara Love, in Sappho Was a Right-On Woman (1972), demonstrate how Sappho is an integral part of lesbian history, from ancient Greece to the contemporary rights movement in the United States. The first part of their book analyzes the feelings of guilt, shame, and duplicity in societies that condemn lesbians, while the second part depicts societal changes, the women’s movement, and the lesbians themselves, allowing them to stop making excuses and begin acting as complete individuals. Confronting modern society is challenging, but it is far better than the self-humiliation to which lesbians were systematically subjected, the authors conclude (Abbott and Love, 1972).

This approach provides a deeper understanding of Sappho’s role in the history of poetry and her contribution to the development of women’s poetry and lyricism throughout history. Her legacy remains a valuable resource for studying the ancient world and exploring how women experienced and shaped their artistic and cultural identities in the past. Her writing technique and style serve as a model for all artists, especially women seeking a path in free literary expression. Sappho was a virtuoso in conveying deep and authentic emotions through poetry, inspiring women to write about their own feelings, emotions, inclinations, and urges without hesitation or self-censorship.

The post Poet Sapfa – cultural contribution through love poetry and a feminist perspective appeared first on FER ŠKOLA.

Rape is one of the most severe forms of violence against women.[1] Rape can devastate a woman’s integrity, self-esteem, and sense of self-worth, while also leading to various forms of anxiety, depression, panic attacks, and post-traumatic stress disorder. Women who survive rape are often subjected to societal condemnation, marked with the metaphorical „scarlet letter“ of stigma and shame. Sexual violence stems exclusively from the perpetrator’s power dynamics over the survivor, who is unable to resist. Nevertheless, society frequently sides with the rapist and condemns the survivor.[2] For beliefs, adopted positions, claims, or teachings—patterns about phenomena not based on verified facts but providing simplified explanations for violence—the term myths about violence is commonly used in the literature (Anić, 2010: 195). As Marina Ajduković notes, when myths are repeated frequently enough, they become widely accepted „wisdom“ and take on the semblance of well-founded facts (Ajduković, 2000: 43).

Throughout history, sexual violence has been used as a means of asserting power, control, and dominance over women. Despite advancements in laws related to sexual violence, it remains a pervasive and deeply entrenched issue in societies worldwide. In sacred scriptures such as the Bible, we encounter this complex and sensitive issue. The Bible contains several explicit examples of sexual violence that reflect the societal and cultural norms of the time when these events were written (Vidović, 2006). These examples include: Dina (Genesis 34), Tamar (2 Samuel 13), and the unnamed woman (Judges 19). This essay will focus on the case of Dina (Genesis 34). The primary themes of the essay include Dina’s narrative silence in the text, reconstructing interpretative traditions of Genesis 34, and restoring Dina’s voice along with that of all survivors of rape. The story of Dina’s rape and its consequences raises complex moral and ethical questions, including issues of consent, honor, revenge, the use of violence, and prompts deep reflection on challenging established patterns. Although Dina’s experience of rape is central to the narrative development of this biblical text, she remains a marginal figure throughout the story, overshadowed by the conflict between two families fighting to preserve their honor. Through her example, this essay aims to dismantle several myths about sexual violence and highlight her experience as a foundation for religious leaders’ discourse, which could support survivors of rape.

Who was Dina?

Dinah was the daughter of Leah and Jacob, the granddaughter of Rebekah and Isaac, the great-granddaughter of Sarah and Abraham, and the sister of Jacob’s twelve sons, who would become the leaders of the twelve tribes of Israel. According to the biblical account in the Book of Genesis, Leah, Jacob’s wife, gave birth to a daughter named Dinah (Genesis 30:21). Before Dinah, Leah had borne six sons to Jacob. „Then Leah said, ‘God has endowed me with a precious gift; this time my husband will honor me, because I have borne him six sons.’“ (Genesis 30:20). This statement suggests that sons were valued far more highly than daughters.[3] Marinko Vidović notes that women in the Bible are mentioned only when they are sexually mature, meaning capable of marriage and childbearing. This fact alone, according to the author, points to a perception of women primarily in relation to men, who could desire them, exploit them, marry them, or discard them (Vidović, 2006:126). In the Bible, Dinah is not portrayed as a fully developed character; nothing is revealed about her personality, desires, dreams, or aspirations. Instead, her story revolves around events that dramatically affected her life: her rape, negotiations between Hamor and Jacob about a potential marriage, and finally, her brothers’ violent revenge to restore the family’s honor. „When Shechem, son of Hamor the Hivite, the ruler of that area, saw her, he took her and raped her.“ (Genesis 34:2). Shechem then asked Dinah’s father, Jacob, for permission to marry her. When Jacob learned what had happened, he met with Hamor, Shechem’s father, who not only requested Jacob’s consent for the marriage but also proposed broader intermarriage between their families. „Hamor said to them, ‘My son Shechem has his heart set on your daughter. Please give her to him as his wife. Intermarry with us: Give us your daughters and take our daughters for yourselves. You can settle among us; the land is open to you. Live in it, trade in it, and acquire property in it.’“ (Genesis 34:8–10). However, when Dinah’s brothers heard about the incident, they called it „a disgrace in Israel“ (Genesis 34:7) and plotted revenge. They deceitfully told Hamor and Shechem that they could agree to the marriage only if all the males in Shechem’s city were circumcised. „They said, ‘We cannot give our sister to a man who is not circumcised. That would be a disgrace to us. We will enter into an agreement with you on one condition only: that you become like us by circumcising all your males’“ (Genesis 34:14–16).

A Bloody Revenge in the Name of Honor

Vidović notes that Shechem’s rape of Dinah was the direct cause of the brutal revenge carried out by Simeon and Levi, her brothers. The retaliation also reflected the Israelites’ prohibition of intermarriage with foreigners (Vidović, 2006:132). „Three days later, while all of them were still in pain [from circumcision], two of Jacob’s sons, Simeon and Levi, Dinah’s brothers, took their swords and attacked the unsuspecting city, killing every male. They put Hamor and his son Shechem to the sword and took Dinah from Shechem’s house and left. The sons of Jacob came upon the dead bodies and looted the city where their sister had been defiled.“ (Genesis 34:25–27). This act of vengeance tragically escalated the cycle of violence, leading to murders, the abduction and potential rape of women, and the obliteration of an entire community through forced assimilation. As Vidović suggests, such patterns of violence, where women’s bodies are used as battlegrounds for sending messages to enemies, are evident in modern wartime conflicts. Susan Brownmiller, in her book Against Our Will (1995), emphasizes that war uniquely legitimizes acts like rape, wherein “in the name of victory and power, war grants men implicit permission to commit rape while opportunity creates the perpetrator.” (Brownmiller, 1995:35).

The Silenced Voices of Women in the Bible

Dinah’s story has become a focus of numerous studies and debates within religious, literary, and feminist contexts. Scholars such as Phyllis Bird and Susanne Scholz have highlighted the absence of women’s direct voices in biblical texts. Bird, in Missing Persons and Mistaken Identities: Women and Gender in Ancient Israel (1997), asserts that the Old Testament rarely provides an unmediated view of women’s lives and thoughts (Bird, 1997:52). Scholz, in Introducing the Women’s Hebrew Bible: Feminism, Gender Justice, and the Study of the Old Testament (1997), notes that despite the prevalence of narratives involving sexual violence, discussions about rape are rarely addressed in ways that are empathetic or justice-oriented in contemporary theological discourse. Carolina Blyth contextualizes Dinah’s experience within a strictly patriarchal ideological framework, pointing out that biblical interpretations often align with the narrator’s perspective, implicitly endorsing Dinah’s silence and absence. In The Dinah Monologues (2009), Blyth examines the ethical implications of Dinah’s suppressed emotions, comparing her plight to the trauma of modern survivors of sexual violence. Ilona Rashkow, in The Phallacy of Genesis: A Feminist-Psychoanalytic Approach (1993), critiques Dinah’s brothers, Simeon and Levi, for their actions, suggesting they were more concerned with restoring family honor than with Dinah’s well-being (Rashkow, 1993). The voices of women in the Bible, though often subdued, resonate through their actions, faith, and influence on the events surrounding them. Dinah’s story serves as a stark reminder of the ongoing struggle to amplify silenced voices and challenge cycles of violence and injustice.

Humiliated Dinah

It is important to note that in ancient times, a virgin who engaged in sexual relations outside marriage—whether seduced or raped—was devalued in terms of her social status, bringing shame to her family (Adelman, 2021). Her virginity was crucial in negotiations over the bride price and in forging family alliances through marriage. According to the laws of Deuteronomy regarding sexual relations with a virgin outside of marriage, regardless of whether she was betrothed to another man, it was assumed that the woman had consented to the sexual act unless she cried out in protest in a city or town, or if she was taken to an open field where her cries could not be heard (Deut. 22:23–29). In their discussion of the biblical emphasis on female virginity, Gender and Law in the Hebrew Bible and the Ancient Near East (1998), Tikva Frymer-Kensky and colleagues argue that the central duty of protecting family honor was exclusively the responsibility of the men in the family (Frymer-Kensky et al., 1998: 84). This male responsibility for maintaining family honor included ensuring that the young women in the family remained chaste (virgins). Consequently, the preservation of female chastity fostered respect within the community, while any form of promiscuity by a woman tarnished the family’s reputation (Frymer-Kensky et al., 1998: 85). A promiscuous woman and her partner challenged the authority of her father and brought shame upon the family. Beyond promiscuity, the issue of rape was irrelevant regarding the imposed stigma, as the entire family was blamed for failing to properly protect the woman’s chastity. Since Dinah was outside in the open, it is plausible that her father and brothers assumed she was raped, as indicated by terms such as “defiled” (Gen. 34:5, 13, 27), treated „like a prostitute“ (v. 31), and considered an „offense“ (Deut. 22:21, Judges 20:6 and 10, 2 Sam. 13:12).

Why Did She Go Visiting?

Because Dinah went out to visit women who were not part of her tribe, her very visit raises questions often posed in misogynistic discourse. These questions become „stronger“ than us, as Esther Oluwafunmilayo (2017) explains. We ask: Why did Dinah feel the need to visit strangers? Why did she go alone? Why didn’t she scream for help, and so on? We repeatedly pose such questions in daily conversations and social media posts whenever we learn of sexual violence. In rabbinic tradition, it is often interpreted that if Dinah had not gone out, Shechem would not have seen her, and the entire city would have been spared trouble (Wolde, 2002). Vidović emphasizes that women in biblical accounts were in danger when they left home. They were exposed to sexual violence, underscoring the notion that a man was the master of a woman’s sexuality. Outside her father’s (Jacob’s) protection, a woman’s chastity was secure, while outside, it was endangered (Vidović, 2006: 112). In other words, Dinah is blamed for the rape, the loss of Jacob’s honor, and the massacre of Shechem’s clan. In patriarchal societies, women are categorized by promiscuity, including unwanted sexual encounters, meaning even raped women are labeled as prostitutes.

Rape is a heinous crime and a profound violation of personal integrity. This event is deeply troubling and reflects the reality of sexual violence against women in ancient times. It highlights issues of power, consent, and women’s vulnerability in patriarchal societies. The biblical narrative does not delve into Dinah’s feelings or perspective on the matter but focuses on her family’s reactions and the consequences. However, as Ellen van Wolde notes, Genesis 34 does not address the issue of sexual violence but presents a traditional view of women, who were not allowed to have their own perspective or decide about their lives. Social, cognitive, and legal institutions create cultural codes that profile the denial of female integrity—producing a patriarchal environment that renders it invisible and, therefore, inevitable for both women and men. The author points out that the aftermath of rape includes even worse consequences, such as the loss of freedom, restriction of movement, loss of personal perspective, and deprivation of voice. All this is devastating as it renders people, especially women, invisible, leaving them out of our memory (Wolde, 2002).

In patriarchal discourse, the family status of Jacob and Hamor matters much more than Dinah’s trampled dignity. Frances Klopper argues that contemporary readers of Genesis 34 face challenging questions: How should we respond to a text about rape that risks justifying sexual violence? How can we explain the story’s significance in light of modern women’s experiences? What are the readers’ attitudes, and how much are these attitudes influenced by deeply rooted stereotypes that emphasize a woman’s responsibility for rape? How should the text be interpreted to respect the integrity of female characters like Dinah, Tamar, and other raped women in the Bible? (Klopper, 2010). The case of Dinah in the biblical narrative should serve as a lesson emphasizing the importance of respecting women’s autonomy and dignity. Irmtraud Fischer observes that the most dangerous place for a woman is her home and family (Fischer, 2023: 261). In Dinah’s case, the escalation of revenge by Jacob’s sons affected the entire settlement’s inhabitants, forcing Jacob to leave the region. „Then Jacob said to Simeon and Levi, ‘You have brought trouble on me by making me obnoxious to the Canaanites and Perizzites, the people living in this land. We are few in number, and if they join forces against me and attack me, I and my household will be destroyed’“ (Gen. 34:30). The brothers insisted they were justified because the family’s honor had been sullied and was evidently restored by their revenge (Gen. 34:27–31). Fischer notes that the narrator focuses on the men’s emotions. Jacob is cautious about the numerous inhabitants, while his sons are angry about the tarnished family reputation. On the other hand, Shechem feels affection for Dinah, and his father is willing to rectify the crime through certain concessions.[4] Fischer observes that family reputation takes precedence, while Dinah’s feelings are entirely ignored. By the end of the account, no one addresses her, which Fischer interprets to mean that Dinah is and remains an object for men with very controlled emotions. The narrator does not allow Dinah to speak, rendering her will entirely irrelevant in the story (Fischer, 2023: 262). Biblical stories about sexual violence provide an opportunity for modern readers to engage in discussions about ethics, justice, and the treatment of vulnerable women. While it is crucial to approach these stories with sensitivity and critical thought, considering their cultural and historical context, it is equally important to advocate for the rights of women who have experienced sexual violence and are marginalized compared to men.

Believe Women!

Matthew Ansety notes that Dina has no voice. Many women who have survived sexual violence, lost their voices, or are still not ready to speak about their traumas can relate to her. The author asserts that we are called to action and consistency—because this is how we help survivors reclaim the integrity unjustly taken from them (Ansety, 2004). Her silence is loud enough to resonate through generations. We hear it in the accounts of other fathers who perceive the rape of their daughters as their own shame and punishment. They feel disgraced before a society that accuses them of failing to teach their daughters not to wink and provoke. According to the harsh judgment of patriarchy, they were not strict enough, and as a result of this perceived lack of discipline, the rape occurred. Dina’s voice has been erased, just as we may never hear the voices of the women of our generation who have experienced sexual violence and cry into their pillows because of their trauma. Silence implies resignation, and denial, according to traditional interpretations of rape narratives, implies voluntary participation. Feminist educator Nelle Morton calls on women to listen to the speech embedded in Dina’s story and motivates us to go even deeper—to become the voices of all our sisters (Cohn & Weiss, 2008). Dina’s case can prompt us to ask what we are doing in our religious communities to support women who have been raped. How do we treat survivors? Do we show understanding, respect, sensitivity, and empathy, or do we point fingers of condemnation at them? How sensitive are we to cases of sexual abuse within religious institutions? How often do we talk about this issue? Do religious representatives warn about the rise of sexual violence, and do they address the traumas of women in sermons and public and media spaces? Dina’s experience can be read and interpreted in ways that restore her lost integrity and defend, in her name, the girls and women who have been raped. Instead of traditional interpretations and seeking justification in tradition, circumstances, or the era, we can choose a feminist approach that primarily aims to expose androcentric bias and portrays Dina as an object in male power games (Klopper, 2010). By using our voices, we interrupt Dina’s silence and create the potential for every woman to speak without fear.[5] In addition to providing a space for free speech, it is essential to build trust and offer survivors safety and support. Dina did not have support; her father, brothers, and the family of her rapist thought only of their interests and saving their reputations. There is no record of how she felt, whether she could confide in anyone, or how she perceived the family negotiations, her brothers’ revenge, and the escalation of violence.

Rehabilitation After Rape

How do women who have been raped feel? Dirty, humiliated, ashamed, guilty. They might want to scrub away the feeling of disgust left behind by the cruel act. They might feel fear, mistrust, or both. Thanks to the #MeToo movement, many American actresses, singers, and other women shared their testimonies of sexual violence. Actress Milena Radulović spoke out about being raped by director Mika Aleksić, and after her, many women shared their emotions on the platforms #nisamtražila (#Ididntaskforit) and #nisamprijavila (#Ididntreport). They spoke about uncomfortable police interrogations, societal condemnation, and an insufficiently sensitive system that still believes women provoke men, leaving men unable to resist their desires. Discourse about rape requires a serious and interdisciplinary approach involving representatives of religious communities. They should not denounce women or label them as flirtatious seductresses but should instead declare that rape is a sin against God and humanity. Sexual abuse is a grave sin and crime and should be represented as such in religious communities. Religious representatives (priests, pastors, imams, rabbis) can reach a large audience and influence individual and collective awareness of sexual violence against women as both a crime and a sin. Society relies on religious representatives for moral guidance, trusting in their reputation, credibility, and authenticity. However, the presence of rape myths, traditional views, stereotypes, and the direct and indirect blaming of victims can contribute to the spread of misinformation about sexual violence. In such a society, we will continue to blame survivors, seek reasons for sexual violence, and justify rapists. Dina’s case serves as an example of how not to treat survivors. We need to hear their voices, be patient, and believe them when they speak. Sermons at mass have a significant impact. They are often retold at family Sunday lunches. It is common to hear grandparents, parents, or other family members say, „The priest said this or that.“ The priest’s word carries weight and shapes the opinions of a family that attends church every Sunday. Imagine if a priest preached about Dina’s case and told women they are not to blame! They are not at fault for walking freely, socializing, or laughing. Imagine a priest encouraging women to be free in their expression. On the other hand, imagine if the priest also told fathers and mothers to believe their children when they confide in them about sexual harassment. Such a sermon, retold at a family lunch, could change narratives and break stereotypes. Grandparents might stop believing that their granddaughters provoke with floral dresses, and conversations about the real causes of violence—with an emphasis on respect, mutual understanding, listening, and empathy—might begin. One sermon, one lunch—it could lead to significant changes.

LITERATURE

Ajduković, M. (2000), „Myths and facts about violence against women in Croatia“, In B. Juras (Ed.), The Position of Women in the Republic of Croatia (pp. 101–108). Zagreb: State Institute for the Protection of the Family, Maternity and Youth.

Anić, R. (2010), „Demythologization of the incompatibility of love and violence in the family context: A theological approach“, Church in the World, 45(2), 193–217.

Ansety, M. (2004), „The rape of Dinah (Genesis 34): Reading Scripture in the contemporary church“, St. Mark’s Review, 3, 30–40.

The Bible (1968), Zagreb: Christian Today.

Bird, P. (1997), Missing Persons and Mistaken Identities: Women and Gender in Ancient Israel (Overtures to Biblical Theology), Minneapolis: Fortress Press.

Blyth, C. (2009), „Terrible silence, eternal silence: A feminist re-reading of Dinah’s voicelessness in Genesis 34“, Biblical Interpretation, 17(5), 483–506.

Brownmiller, S. (1995), Against Our Will (Trans. N. Hewitt). Zagreb: Zagorka.

Cohn, T., & Weiss, A. (2008), The Torah: A Women’s Commentary, New York: CAR Press.

Diamant, A. (1997), The Red Tent (Trans. A. Gotovac). Zagreb: Znanje.

Fischer, I. (2023), „Sexual harassment in the Bible #ThemToo“, Renewed Life: Journal for Philosophy and Religious Sciences, 78(2), 257–265.

Frymer-Kensky, T., et al. (1998), Gender and Law in the Hebrew Bible and the Ancient Near East, Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press.

Jurič, S. (1996), The Genealogy of Jesus Christ Church in the World, Split: Church in the World.

Catechism of the Catholic Church (2016). Zagreb: Croatian Bishops’ Conference, Glas Koncila.

Klopper, F. (2010), „Rape and the case of Dinah: Ethical responsibilities for reading Genesis 34“, Old Testament Essays, 23(3), 652–665.

Mamula, M. (2011), Sexual Violence in Croatia 2000–2010, Zagreb: Women’s Room – Center for Sexual Rights.

Oluwafunmilayo, E. (2017), „Dinah and her experience of sexual assault in Genesis 34: Lessons for the girl-child in contemporary society“, International Journal of Scientific and Research Publications, 7(5), 381–387.

Rashkow, I. (1993), The Phallacy of Genesis: A Feminist–Psychoanalytic Approach Literary Currents in Biblical Interpretation,Louisville: Westminster and Knox Press.

Scholz, S. (1997), Introducing the Women’s Hebrew Bible: Feminism, Gender Justice, and the Study of the Old Testament, London: Bloomsbury.

Vidović, M. (2006), „Violence against women in the Bible“ In Violence Against Women: Theological-Pastoral Challenge (pp. 98–158). Split: Franciscan Institute for the Culture of Peace.

Wolde, E. (2002), „The Dinah story: Rape or worse?“, Old Testament Essays, 15(1), 225–239.

[1]Sexual violence is any sexual act against the will of the survivor, an attempt to commit a sexual act, an unwanted sexual comment or proposal directed at a person and their sexuality, which can be committed by another person regardless of the relationship with the survivor or the situation in which they find themselves. It is characterized by the use of force, threats, or coercion to endanger the well-being and life of the survivor or those close to them. Forms of sexual violence are numerous and are most often recognized as sexual harassment, various forms of sexual abuse, marital rape, rape in intimate relationships, rape by an unknown person, gang rape, systematic rape in armed conflicts, sexual abuse of persons with developmental and intellectual disabilities, persons with disabilities, sexual abuse of children, forced prostitution, and the trafficking of women and children for sexual exploitation ( Mamula, 2011). Article 2356 of the Catechism of the Catholic Church defines rape as the violent entry, through brute force, into the sexual intimacy of a person, which violates justice and love. Rape deeply offends everyone’s right to respect, freedom, physical and moral integrity, and causes severe damage and pain that may mark the victim for life. It is always an evil act. Rape is even more severe when committed by close relatives (see incest) or by caregivers over children entrusted to their care (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2016: 602).

[2]Since readers often base their interpretations on tradition and customs, such interpretations become „dangerous“ because they reflect the cultural assumptions of the time, which is a rape culture—a culture that minimizes rape, sympathizes with rapists, and blames survivors. Such interpretations continue to perpetuate myths about rape and spread stereotypes about survivors of sexual violence (Klopper, 2010)

[3]The male offspring is at the center of attention, while the female offspring is marginalized. This is confirmed by biblical genealogies as a significant factor in determining the identity of individuals, tribes, and nations. Daughters in the Bible are often silenced or left unnamed. In the Old Testament, there are 29 depictions in which women/daughters are described, but not as the main actors in the events, rather as objects of actions and interests of men ( Jurič, 1996).

[4]Prof. Dr. Irmtraud Fischer, Institute of Catholic Theology, Karl-Franzens University, Graz. The article was published in June 2018 in Études, 4250, pp. 77–88. The article was translated into French by Erwan Chauty and François Euvé. The translation from French to Croatian was done by Tvrtko Barun SJ, and the editing of the Croatian translation was done by Vladimir Horvat SJ.

[5] In 1997, the writer Anita Diamant re-imagined Dinah’s story in her book The Red Tent. In this novel, Dinah is the first-person narrator, and her encounter with Shechem is not a rape, but a romantic relationship in anticipation of marriage. Dinah willingly marries the Canaanite prince and is horrified and saddened by the vengeful actions of her brothers. She escapes to Egypt to give birth to a son and reunites with her brother Joseph, now Egypt’s prime minister. The Red Tent became a global phenomenon embraced by women who wanted a different view of women in the Bible. Although entirely fictional, Diamant wrote the novel after studying history and anthropology around 1600 BCE, especially in terms of what could be learned about the lives of ancient women. The Red Tent is a symbolic title, referring to a ritual practice common among tribes of the ancient Near East, where women lived in such tents with their sisters, daughters, and mothers, and celebrated the cult of menstruation ( Diamant, 1997).

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In recent decades, women have been increasingly called to return to traditional values. Messages about women’s worth are propagated by various anti-gender movements emphasizing the importance of female chastity, modesty, and submission to the spiritual authority of men[1]. These messages center on the notion that a woman’s value lies solely in her virginity, purity, and passivity, while any behavior that deviates from these norms is labeled as sinful and unacceptable. Society is saturated with an idealized image of female sexuality deeply rooted in tradition, religion, and culture. Female sexuality is imbued with stereotypes and prejudices that permeate culture, art, and media, prompting a need for serious discourse. We must ask critical questions: What is the significance of female virginity? Is a woman’s worth defined by her hymen? Who created the cult of virginity? In which societies and religions is this narrative most pronounced? How much harm has the promotion of virginity caused women by glorifying some as paragons of virtue while condemning others as promiscuous? Is there balance in this discourse? Can a woman be respected if she is sexually active? What determines her dignity? As a society, where do we err in assigning the labels „virgin“ and „sinner“? Why is the narrative of virginity far more emphasized for women than for men?This essay explores the role of the Vestal Virgins in ancient Rome, examining their treatment in the society they lived in, what they symbolized, their significance for the spiritual life of Rome, how they were perceived then, what has changed, and how the narrative of virginity holds value in contemporary society.

Patriarchal Ideas of Female Chastity

According to Webster’s Dictionary, chastity in a sexual sense is defined as „abstention from unlawful sexual intercourse,“ particularly in reference to women (Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary, 1989). The discourse on male and female sexuality reveals significant disparities, raising the question of whether women will ever achieve sexual autonomy or if their sexuality will forever be dictated by male standards projected onto societal gender roles. Deborah and John Sawyer observe that perceptions of femininity have been shaped by specific religious beliefs and subsequently reinforced through rituals, ceremonies, and prayers. When questioning the construction of femininity, it is essential to also interrogate its counterpart—masculinity. According to the Sawyers, patriarchal religion develops definitive notions of femininity, which then gain cultural significance as the essence of being a woman (Sawyer & Sawyer, 2022: 139). In other words, femininity becomes „the Other“ affirming the dominance and normative standards of masculinity (De Beauvoir, 2016: 18). In this context, the concept of virginity takes on dimensions of passive submission, obedience, and control over female sexuality. The double standards, alongside society’s obsession with both virginity and pornography, place immense pressure on young girls, who experience a split between the roles of the chaste, obedient virgin and the promiscuous woman whose body serves male desire. Historian Elizabeth Abbott, in her book A History of Celibacy (2007), highlights the double standards that have justified prostitution in the name of chastity for centuries. She cites St. Augustine, who stated that If we were to eliminate prostitutes from human society, the world would be tainted with lust (Abbott, 2007: 137). Inspired by Augustine’s views, medieval theologians compiled extensive lists of forbidden erotic acts. Prostitution and related behaviors were deemed sinful, and sexual relations were framed solely in terms of procreation[2]. Chastity, as a testament to a pure and untouched body, was regarded as the most important quality of a bride, who was seen as property. Abbott (2007) identifies several key assumptions underpinning the obsession with virginity:1)A bride’s chastity guaranteed her husband that the children she bore, particularly the firstborn, were his. 2) She had not dishonored him by allowing another man to take her virginity and intimately know her body 3) By abstaining from sexual activity, she demonstrated a predisposition to marital fidelity.4) By adhering to the commands of her guardians, culture, and religion, she proved her understanding of her duties and likelihood of submitting to her husband’s authority.5) Arriving at marriage without children ensured that her dowry and future earnings would benefit only the new family she formed with her husband. 6) The bride’s family also reaped benefits from her virginity 7) Her chastity allowed her family to negotiate favorable terms for the marriage. 8) Her reputation preserved the honor of both her and her husband’s families. She complied with religious rules prohibiting premarital sex, avoiding the wrath of offended deities on her family (Abbott, 2007: 140).

The narrative of virginity becomes dangerous and destructive when it demands that women suppress all forms of sexual desire and romantic emotions, thereby controlling their thoughts, feelings, and behavior. This represents a form of patriarchal programming of women’s subconscious, pressuring them to restrain themselves while granting men the power to control and oppress their bodies and psyches. The constructs of male dominance and female passivity in romantic relationships dictate that men take initiative while women exhibit modesty. Such elements of patriarchal discourse perpetuate the subordination and passive roles of women in emotional expression, with feelings of shame fostering introverted behavior (Tubonjić, 2023: 76). In traditional patriarchal discourse, women’s bodies and sexuality are perceived as collective property of the family and community, denying women autonomy. This destructive pattern of behavior alienates women from their own bodies and beings. David Ghanim (2015: 65) explains that women are perceived solely as objects of the male gaze. When their bodies are regulated and culturally controlled, they are stripped of their subjectivity, identity, and sensuality, remaining trapped within the confines of patriarchy (Ghanim, 2015: 66).

The Connection Between Ancient Traditions and the Cult of Virginity

Antiquity was a period in which women’s emancipation and struggle for rights were virtually nonexistent. In ancient times, women were excluded from the public sphere and confined to societal roles that denied them access to political leadership, governance, and the privileges enjoyed by men. Women were subordinate to their husbands, with their influence limited to household duties and child-rearing. In ancient Greece, premarital purity was an essential prerequisite for brides. Abbott notes that girls were required to marry immediately after puberty to eliminate the possibility of „sexual error“ (Abbott, 2007: 24). The importance placed on female virginity is evident in the ancient custom where young couples used a bag of pig’s blood to stain the snow-white linen of the marriage bed as proof of a ruptured hymen (Abbott, 2007: 47). The term „hymen“, meaning „membrane“, is of Greek origin and refers to a thin membrane at the vaginal opening. While it serves no apparent anatomical function, David Ghanim highlights how the hymen’s uniqueness fueled male imaginations, leading to its association with female sexuality. In The Virginity Trap in the Middle East (2015), Ghanim explains that patriarchal discourse equates female virginity with an intact hymen. Virginity remains a significant social category in Islamic countries of the Middle East and North Africa, where preserving an intact hymen until the wedding night is seen as a woman’s most valuable trait and a prized commodity in arranged marriages. Because hymeneal blood was considered the sole proof of virginity, detailed defloration rituals were tied to the wedding night. Ghanim states that vaginal penetration without hymeneal bleeding was a societal issue linked to honor, making the proof of sexual purity essential in this context. This obsession with hymeneal blood creates a violent association between blood and sexuality, resulting in a societal system that terrorizes women’s lives (Ghanim, 2015). Men socially construct the hymen’s significance through concepts of sexual purity, honor, and virginity. As a symbol of virginity, the hymen carries various meanings across cultures. British art historian Mark Gisbourne notes that Just as the walls of monasteries or caves shield from the outside world and transform the inner world of monasteries and prayer into the outer expanse, so too does the hymen symbolize the protection of spiritual freedom from the suffering of desires, or samsara, as expressed in Buddhist terms (Zanki, 2012: 74).

Virgins and Priestesses

During antiquity, throughout their upbringing and maturation, as well as later in life, girls and women assumed various religious roles. Particularly significant was female priesthood in different cults. Joan Breton Connelly, in her book Portrait of a Priestess: Women and Ritual in Ancient Greece (2007), writes that two young girls, selected in the cult of Athena[3], entered the service of the goddess at the age of 7. As they reached puberty, they donned yellow clothing and participated in rituals dedicated to Artemis Brauronia, a goddess especially protective of young girls on their path to maidenhood. After menarche, or the first menstrual bleeding, they became parthenoi (maidens ready for marriage). During their full youth and virginity, they took on the role of kanephoroi, basket-bearers in sacred processions. Connelly describes how the girls would parade and present themselves to the citizens, adorned with necklaces made of figs symbolizing their fertility (Connelly, 2007: 4). Priestesses in ancient Greece played important roles as advisors, prophetesses, and were also significant figures in the political life of many city-states. For example, in the cult of Athena, priestesses wielded considerable influence over the political life of Athens. The position of high priestess in the temple of Athena was a prominent political and religious role reserved for women from Athenian aristocracy. As priestesses of Athena, they had the freedom to move within the male political elite, unlike other women whose place was in the household and who were restrained from interacting with men. In the Greco-Roman world, a priestess was seen as a woman chosen by a deity to serve and was under that deity’s protection. While serving in the priesthood, priestesses did not fulfill maternal roles (Blundell, 1998: 24). Age, sexual status, and ritual purity were inseparably linked concepts in the Greek religious system. Greek priestesses can be divided into three age groups—girls and adolescents, mature adult women, and elderly women—each with appropriate „means“ for achieving ritual purity. Girls and adolescents aimed to achieve ritual purity through their physical virginity until marriage, while adult women aspired to remain virgins for life (Blundell, 1998: 25). According to Kristen Gentile, each method was unique to the social and sexual status of the age group and helped to explain why different cults chose priestesses of various ages. Girls and adolescents were grouped together because their sexual status was essentially the same; both were young physical virgins (Gentile, 2009: 17). Additionally, as Gentile highlights, these groups shared social circumstances in that they were unmarried and still under the control of their fathers or guardians. Virginity was simply presumed due to the young age of the women serving in the priesthood, as was the case with the arrhêphoroi in Athens (pre-menstrual girls typically aged between seven and eleven years). Other cults explicitly required that parthenoi (maidens) serve as priestesses until marriage. For instance, both the priestesses of Poseidon in Kalaureia and Artemis in Achaea were described as parthenoi (Gentile, 2009: 28). Initially, only pure, chaste, and innocent girls could serve as intermediaries between the human world and the divine realm. However, as young maidens were often victims of sexual violence, the role of prophetesses began to be entrusted to women over the age of 50, such as the Pythian priestesses. Ancient texts often describe the Pythia as an older woman who, seated on a tripod above a fissure in the rock, inhaled vapors emanating from the earth and, in a trance, uttered disconnected words and thoughts. Priests would record these words and thoughts, transforming them into „prophecies.“ Given the widespread belief in the divine origin of these prophecies, they held significant influence, especially when responding to rulers’ inquiries. During the Hellenistic period, the political influence of prophecies waned, and inquiries to the Pythia were posed exclusively by people of lower social classes who still trusted the Pythia. The Pythian priestesses lived in the ruins of Apollo’s temple as impoverished elderly women. The last record of a Pythia dates to the reign of Emperor Theodosius I, who ordered the closure of temples in 392 CE, thereby ending the history of the Delphic Oracle. Before assuming the role of prophetess, every new Pythia was required to sever all worldly ties and ultimately renounce her identity.[4] Connelly explains that female religious figures were accorded state funerals and were even consulted on political matters of the time. Consequently, in many important aspects, they were treated as equals to men. Other privileges enjoyed by priestesses included tax exemptions, the right to have bodyguards, reserved front-row seats at competitions, and legal privileges rarely afforded to women of that era (Connelly, 2007: 9). Among the priestesses, it is important to mention the prophetess Hippo and the first Delphic priestess Phemonoe, who, along with Thales and Chilon, is attributed the famous saying, „Know thyself“ (Šestak, Šimunković, 2012: 5). One of the most notable priestesses, who enjoyed various privileges, was Athena’s priestess Chrysis. She held the status of a special representative of Athens in Delphi, had the right to consult the oracle, priority in trials, inviolability, tax exemption, front-row seating at all competitions, the right to own a house and land, and other honors customary for proxenos—benefactors of the city. She was one of the few women to be granted this honor by decree, and a monument was erected for her on the Acropolis, ensuring that her status as a priestess would be remembered in history (Connelly, 2007: 12).

The Vestal Virgins

The story of virginity and its importance to patriarchal societies brings us to an intriguing cult that particularly emphasized female chastity—the Vestal Virgins. The Vestal Virgins were a significant part of ancient Roman religion, which consisted of various beliefs and rituals adopted from many conquered peoples and earlier civilizations that profoundly influenced Roman society. The most widespread legend about the founding of Rome is the story of Romulus and Remus, whose mother was a Vestal Virgin. This illustrates how the Romans regarded the Vestal Virgin as the mother of the nation—a woman who gave them life and raised them, leading some to consider her the nurturer of Rome (Plu. Rom.: 2). The Vestal Virgins were dedicated to the goddess Vesta. Vesta was the goddess of the hearth and, as such, never left the „sublime dwelling of the eternal gods“ and always remained the central point, the meeting place, and the heart of the Roman Empire (Novak, 2008: 37). Joshua Mark notes that Vesta was the goddess of the hearth, home, and family life in Roman religion (identified with the Greek goddess Hestia). She was the firstborn daughter of the Titans Cronus and Rhea and, like the others, was swallowed by her father. When her brother Jupiter (Greek Zeus), who had escaped their father’s appetite, freed his siblings, Vesta was the last to be released (as she was the first swallowed). Thus, she is considered both the oldest and the youngest of all goddesses. She was exceptionally beautiful and attracted the attention of both Apollo and Neptune, who vied for her hand. However, Vesta rejected them both and pleaded with Jupiter to allow her to remain a virgin forever. When he agreed, Vesta was greatly pleased and took care of his home and hearth. Because of this symbolism and related rituals, the goddess Vesta is associated with domestic life and, more importantly for the family, with domestic peace (Mark, 2009). The Vestal Virgins were priestesses, and their priestly order consisted of six Vestals chosen in early childhood, specifically between the ages of six and ten. They were required to remain in their service for thirty years, after which they were given the opportunity to leave the priesthood (Mark, 2009: 129). The historian Livy, in his book The History of Rome from Its Foundation, writes about the establishment of the Vestal cult, noting that Numa founded the cult of the virgins during the existence of the city Alba Longa. Numa instituted a state stipend to ensure the temple could continually support the priestesses and was responsible for their societal status. Vestal Virgins were considered sacred because of their virginity and their practice of religious rituals. However, the establishment of the Vestal Virgins in Rome is attributed to Rome’s second king, Numa Pompilius. Plutarch describes how Numa established the order of high priests known as pontifices, claiming that he was allegedly the first among them (Plu. Rom.: 22). To understand the position of Roman women, and by extension other women living within the empire’s direct influence, we must look back to the earliest times, particularly to the days of the early Republic and the Law of the Twelve Tables (451–450 BCE). According to this law, the position of women throughout their lives was under the control of another. A female child’s life, like that of her brothers, was always subject to the will of her father, who had the legal right known as ius vitae et necis, meaning the „right of life and death“ over his children (Wildfang, 2006: 82). In practice, this legal right was typically exercised only in relation to the selection of children (usually daughters) who would be left to die at birth. However, it formally applied throughout a child’s life (Sawyer & Sawyer, 2022: 28–29).

Criteria and Initiation

The Vestal Virgins had to meet specific criteria. Aulus Gellius lists some of the required qualities, such as the prohibition of selecting a girl who is younger than six or older than ten years, or whose one of her parents has passed away. A girl who shows a defect in speech, hearing, or any other physical defect also does not meet the requirements, nor does a girl whose parents were slaves or of a lower financial status. A girl whose sister was already a Vestal Virgin, or whose father was one of the priests or senators, could also be excluded from the selection. Additionally, the father had to be a Roman citizen, that is, have Italian citizenship, and families with fewer than three children were not allowed to send their daughter to become a Vestal Virgin (Aulus Gellius, Noctes Atticae, 1. 12).

The initiation process involved the transition from the family community to the sphere of state religion. As a member of the state’s public cult, a Vestal Virgin did not belong to just one family but to the entire community, meaning that the Vestal Virgins were treated as an institution. In other words, they were not viewed individually but as a collective. Traditionally, the Pontifex Maximus would take the girl from her family and utter the following words: „I take you, Amata, as a Vestal Virgin—a priestess who will fulfill her duties on behalf of the Quirites (the citizens of Rome), as every Vestal Virgin does by law in the best way“ (Aulus Gellius, Noctes Atticae 1. 12. 14). The Vestal Virgin, the moment she was introduced into the atrium of the Temple of the Vestals and handed over to the supreme priest, would leave her father’s authority and jurisdiction but retain the right to make a will.

Virginity – Blessing and Curse

The symbolism of fire represents the duality of powerful male procreative energy and that of the purified woman (the Vestal Virgin). This duality simultaneously referred to both sexual aggression/power and sexual avoidance (Staples, 1998: 149). The Vestal Virgins tended the fire from the mythical founding of Rome (around the 8th century BCE) until 391 AD, when Christianity became the official religion and the worship of all pagan deities was banned. This fire symbolized the heart of Rome, and all other households would light a fire in their homes because it represented warmth, prosperity, and purity. The accidental extinguishing of the fire in the Temple of Vesta was considered by the Romans to be a bad omen, a sign foretelling some misfortune or a fall from the gods’ favor. In addition to guarding the fire, special emphasis was placed on the preservation of the virginity of the Vestal Virgins. From the perspective of cultural anthropology, virginity is associated with the state of physical intactness and moral integrity; it symbolizes purity, unity, and great power (Kroppenberg, 2010: 419). The Vestal Virgins had to remain virgins while serving the goddess Vesta, for a period of about thirty years, although many chose to remain in this service for life. The importance of virginity is confirmed by Cicero, who, in his work De legibus, writes that Since Vesta, according to her Greek name, holds the hearth of the city, let virgins be entrusted with her worship, so that the fire may be more vigilantly guarded, and women may understand that complete chastity is expected of their nature (Cic. Leg. 2:29). Until the onset of puberty and the appearance of temptations caused by hormonal changes, the life of the Vestals was comfortable and secure. In addition to tending the sacred fire, they were required to fetch water from the sacred spring and carry it to the Atrium or temple. They prepared Vesta’s salted cakes and cleaned the floors of her temple. Their duties also included preparing sacrificial cakes for religious festivals and guarding the October Equus – the blood and ashes of the sacrificed calves (Abott, 2007: 68). The sacred nature and various duties of the Vestals have long occupied the minds of interested male writers in explaining Roman history and analyzing the origins of various cultural habits. The poet Ovid illustrated the sacred duties of the priestesses through the religious calendar, while the philosopher and naturalist Pliny the Elder described the ancient origins of their sacred abilities. Other writers, such as Seneca the Elder and Plutarch, analyzed the cultural norms surrounding the Vestals, while the second-century lawyer Gaius and the grammarian Aulus Gellius provided information on the laws concerning the Vestal priesthood. Similarly, sources discussing the legal elements of the cult of Vesta are valuable for shedding light on the changes in the social status of the priestesses and their institutions (Sihvonen, 2020: 52). The first to engage with the Vestals in contemporary academic discourse was the English baron and politician Sir Thomas Cato Worsfold. In his book History of the Vestal Virgins of Rome (1932), he details the world of the Vestals: their origins, duties, importance, dress, daily life, and participation in religious rituals (Worsfold, 1932). Over time, more research has been conducted on the subject of the Vestals and the roles of women in ancient Rome. For instance, author Ariadne Staples, in her book From Good Goddess to Vestal Virgins: Sex and Category in Roman Religion (1998), focused, among other things, on the duties of the Vestals, the characteristics of their virginity, and the various meanings of the fire they guarded.

Emancipation or Oppression

What distinguished the cult of the Vestal Virgins was their departure from the traditional gender roles and their defiance of categorization in ancient Rome. They were priestesses who were not bound by male ownership, which to some extent liberated them from traditional norms. The privileges they enjoyed included attending senatorial dinners, going to the theater with imperial women, and safeguarding valuable state documents. These privileges reflected the Roman belief that the Vestal Virgins were true guardians of Rome: its purity and its power. However, the cult was marked by male-created ideals of femininity, meaning that this idealization of the Vestals was supported by the rulers (Saywer, Saywer, 2022:119). In her article „The Power of Virginity: The Political Position and Symbolism of Ancient Rome’s Vestal Virgin“ (2010), Kathryn Ann Wagner explains that the Vestals were much more than virgins. She notes that they were portrayed as daughters, mothers, and priestesses of Rome (Wagner, 2010: 23). Nevertheless, behind this glamorous image lies a much deeper issue, as behind the image of pious, influential women, there were women who sacrificed their sexuality and familial bonds. Mary Beard interprets the Vestals as having a dual sexual status. Such a status, in a legal sense, reflected their mediation between opposites: heaven and earth, purity and impurity, life and death, man and woman. The author emphasizes that the Vestal’s transition from female nature to male culture symbolically merges and simultaneously engages all fragmented power to create a dynamic and ever-expanding Roman Empire (Beard, 1980: 54).

But what was so special about the Vestals that, in a patriarchal society, they were able to enjoy privileges that were unavailable to many other women? Why were they privileged to communicate with prominent men of the Roman aristocracy, to discuss important state and political matters with them, and to travel freely? What made their order stand out in superiority over other women? Was it their special gifts, or the fact that their activities were still controlled by men, giving them only the illusion of power? Deborah and John Sawyer suggest that only under these circumstances, as women whose sexuality was controlled, were they deemed safe in the eyes of patriarchal rulers (Saywer, 2022). Indeed, if they violated the commands of their cult, they would be punished in the worst possible way. How do we punish women today when they break the rules, and when their sexuality crosses the boundaries of patriarchal norms? How often do we blame women who experience rape, accusing them of provoking and attracting the rapist with their provocative behavior? The Vestals, like many women and girls today, were victims of male and structural violence and femicide. Despite their powerful status, the life of a Vestal Virgin was always on the line, as they faced dangers greater than those posed by sexually inappropriate behavior. They were exposed to accusations that the loss of their chastity was the main cause of political and state problems. The chief Vestal, Cornelia, was one of the victims of such manipulations. In 216 BCE, Roman leaders did not attribute the disastrous military defeat at Cannae to military errors, but to the sexual transgressions of the Vestal Virgins. However, the Romans created the image of their deaths as voluntary acts of self-sacrifice. Since it was forbidden to shed the blood of a Vestal Virgin or to bury anyone in Rome, the offending priestess was buried alive in a chamber outside the city, with enough food and water to survive for several days. This execution created the illusion of voluntary self-sacrifice. As a result, two Vestals lost their virginity and their lives by suffocating in the darkness of the tomb on the Campus Sceleratus. Of the ten documented cases of Vestals being buried alive, most were chaste but sacrificed to cover up someone else’s mistake (Abbott, 1999: 69). Powerful Romans fabricated accusations of corruption against the Vestals to make room for their own daughters in the Temple of Vesta. Since the temple could accommodate only six Vestals, powerful Romans found that an appropriate accusation was a good way to create new vacancies. In 215 BCE, Emperor Caracalla destroyed the lives of three Vestals; one was sexually exploited by him, and afterwards, through his influence, he caused the victim and her two companions to be buried alive on the Campus Sceleratus (Abbott, 1999: 70). The virginity of the Vestals had great significance: it represented life and death, stability and chaos for the Roman state. The symbolism of virginity transcended the physical aspect, as the loss of physical virginity represented a betrayal of duty and order. Therefore, the sexuality of the Vestal Virgin was inseparable from the welfare of the state, in the sense that if the state was in crisis, burying one of the „fallen“ Vestals was seen as a hope for the salvation of the state and the preservation of the Roman order. On the other hand, if the state was peaceful and stable, it was perceived by the Romans as evidence that the Vestals were chaste and pure[5]. The Vestal Virgins are an example of patriarchal creation of idealized femininity, which discourages women from following their nature, while motivating them toward male social values. The purpose of the Vestal order’s existence was to serve male interests and initiatives, and every advantage they had over other women in that society was actually fictitious. Ultimately, the irony remains that the rulers had the right to accuse the Vestals of losing the battlefields or any other social problem. Innocent and unwilling, they were forced to believe they had a purpose, while in reality, they were used to fulfill the narrative of patriarchy.

The Loss of Innocence as Justification for Violence

In contemporary times, it is crucial to discuss the origins, causes, and consequences of the marginalization of women based on their chastity. The loss of shame, inappropriate promiscuous behavior, the „prostitute“ lifestyle, and other examples are often cited as justifications for violence against women. In the 21st century, we witness forms of violence such as genital mutilation, forced marriages, and honor killings. These destructive forms of violence have a common denominator: the control of female sexuality, grounded in the belief that women must be chaste, obedient, and submissive, with their sexuality decided by their master—father, brother, relative, later husband, religious leader, or politician. Jessica Valenti, in her book The Purity Myth: How America’s Obsession with Virginity Is Hurting Young Women (2009), argues that women should not be judged based on whether they have sex before marriage or not. She discusses the importance placed on virginity for women, which causes much harm and very little benefit. Our society labels women based on their sexual experience. The author believes that sex should be an experience of intimacy and respect between a man and a woman (Valenti, 2009: 27). The importance society places on virginity causes women to be seen as objects, as if they can be damaged and devalued. Patriarchy promotes virginity but simultaneously encourages women to be sexual objects, abusing sexuality to describe women, which can harm their ability to be taken seriously. As a result, women’s rights will not progress as long as women are still oppressed by those who advocate for the virginity movement and those who promote hypersexualization and objectification of the female body.

Men – Masters of Spiritual Authority?

If we want to encourage young people to be moral and responsible, invoking shame over their own sexuality and expressing it is definitely not the solution. Accusing women of provoking lust with their appearance is, in fact, an escape from one’s own responsibility and from confronting one’s own emotions. How important is it for men to truly be the source of authority, or do deep insecurities, incorrect upbringing, deeply ingrained stereotypes, and a whole spectrum of issues with which we, as a society, are afraid to confront, hide behind this? How afraid are we to admit that egalitarianism could provide harmony and understanding between men and women? To explain the double standard of such norms, we can refer to some perspectives. For example, William Lecky, a classical historian of European morality, refers to Augustine’s idea by describing the prostitute as „the saddest, and in some cases the most tragic figure in human moral drama“ (Lecky, 1869). Although, in his words, she embodies the most dreadful kind of vice, ultimately, the prostitute is the most effective guardian of virtue. However, to her, the untainted purity of countless happy homes remains unattainable (Walkowitz, 1972). While rules and civilizations rise and fall, the prostitute remains the eternal priestess of humanity, blamed for the sins of men. Following this logic, it can be concluded that although prostitutes were vilified, they effectively cared for male lust so that „good girls“ could remain in their role of chastity. Thus, toxic hegemonic masculinity nurtures both standards to satisfy its needs.

The abuse of the value of the female hymen has manifested over centuries in different cultures and religions. We talk about progress, yet when rape occurs, we blame the woman, questioning what she did, how she dressed, how she moved. We ask women about the number of sexual partners, glorifying men as masculine seducers. We have given them sexual power, which they misuse in two extremes: either demanding chastity, passivity, and obedience, or creating fantasies about sexually promiscuous women through forms of prostitution, pornography, and hypersexualization. The problem is that there is no moderate middle ground where a woman is allowed to be free and responsible. This is why social deviations occur, justified by cultural and ideological patterns. Who is the master of female chastity and female sexuality? Unfortunately, it is still patriarchy.

Punishment and Victim

The symbolism of the Vestal Virgin remains one of the deeply rooted archetypes by which we perceive women. Indeed, she is like a fantasy—gentle, white, preserved, and safe—living in the temple, dedicated to duties and rituals. Because of prayer and rituals, she enjoyed certain privileges, such as access to spaces of power that ordinary women could not access. However, if she dared to live and find a partner, she was punished. She paid a heavy price, even if she did not break the rule of preserving chastity, because just one lost battle or a collapsed social order was enough to blame the woman. The femicides of the Vestal Virgins are portrayed as voluntary sacrifice, and today we still expect girls and women to endure and sacrifice. Back then, the role of the virgin was valued as long as it brought political benefits; the protection and prayer of virgins were a symbol of the preservation of Roman order and power. How much is a virgin worth today? As much as patriarchal male discourse decides, with the possibility of belittling girls who have no sexual experience, accusing them of being backward. However, if women are sexually active, they are labeled as free, promiscuous, and immoral. Virginity is not only physical; it carries much stronger symbolism in terms of dress, behavior, and actions, so any „freer behavior“ will be condemned. A woman has broken the rules and will be blamed just like a Vestal Virgin in ancient Rome. According to patriarchal standards, a woman’s mistake is the reason and cause for punishment, and the terrible consequence of this is the tolerance of violence against women. Dressed in the garments of patriarchal stereotypes, we believe that female victimhood can redeem our faults and sins. Joan of Arc[6], Maria Goretti[7], Diva Grabovčeva[8], and other saints and heroines have been glorified for their holiness, martyrdom, and virginity. If women suffer violence, we blame them for not being submissive enough, pure enough, and justify the abusers who commit physical and sexual oppression. We are accustomed to believing that men are the masters of a woman’s body, mind, heart, soul, and spirit. It is high time we find a way out of the enchanted labyrinths of myths and constructs and build clear paths for empowering girls and women.

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[1]The early 21st century was marked by the emergence and spread of anti-gender movements in Europe and Latin America. The anti-gender movement is often defined as a radical, populist, extreme, or religious right-wing movement. It is perceived as part of a broader political trend or ideology and as part of the radical, populist, extreme, and/or religious right, which transcends direct opposition to the feminist movement (cf. Gregorić, 2020: 150).

[2]The medieval view of human sexuality was tied to the concept of sin. The belief that what happens under the sheets is something dirty can be partially attributed to Saint Augustine, who, after a sinful youth, converted to Christianity in 387 and eventually became one of the most influential theologians of all time. The strict rules he set dictated sexual behavior for many subsequent centuries. They were based on the idea that sex was acceptable only in marriage, for the purpose of procreation, and only if it did not provide too much pleasure (cf. Kapural, 2024).

[3]The goddess Athena was Zeus’s favorite daughter, born fully grown and armed from his head. She was the goddess of wisdom and the arts, protector of justice and fairness, and the wise, victorious war. Zeus would consult with her, as she was like his reason, and she always sought to please him. She was celebrated as the protector of the Greeks, especially the city of Athens. Athena was unique in that she was a divine virgin. In mythological records, Athena is portrayed as a goddess who has an aversion to passion and romantic relationships with men (cf. Zamorsky, 1978: 157).

[4]One of the most widespread legends in the ancient world was that of the giant serpent guarding a site. According to the legend, the serpent named Python was killed by the young Apollo with his arrows. After the serpent fell into a chasm, the chasm began emitting suffocating fumes. This was the result of the serpent’s decaying body. Anyone standing over the fumes would fall into a sudden, often violent trance. It was believed by the ancient Greeks that in such a state, the god Apollo would possess a chosen person and make them a prophetess. Named after the great serpent, this chosen prophetess was called Pythia (cf. Lasković, 2020).

[5] Mary Beard warns about the ambiguous position of the Vestal Virgins in relation to the normative categories of gender in Roman society. Relying on insights from structural anthropology, the author argues that this ambiguity is central to the sanctity of the Vestals. Essentially, her interpretation rests on the assertion that by combining features associated with the status of unmarried daughters (virgins) with the status of married women (matronae), the priests themselves became vessels for symbolic mediation between culturally opposed categories, which were identified by Claude Lévi-Strauss, Mary Douglas, and other authors as the central function of myth and ritual (cf. Gallia, 2014).

[6]Many books have been written about Joan of Arc. She is known as a great French heroine who, motivated by divine messages, courageously awakened French national consciousness and love for her homeland. In 1428, she requested an audience with the French heir to the throne, the future King Charles VII, whom she immediately recognized in a crowd, even though she had never seen him before. Numerous records testify that, clad in white armor and riding a horse, with the names of Jesus and Mary on her lips, she led the French army into battle against the English. All the soldiers were amazed by her skill with weapons and her war and strategic abilities. After a long battle, she liberated Orléans in 1429, defeated the English at Patay, and led the heir to his coronation in Reims. That same year, the king bestowed a noble title upon Joan and her family. However, Joan fell into an English trap, and they sentenced her to death by burning at the stake on charges of heresy. She was written about by Mark Twain (1896), Regine Pernoud (1981), Lucia Bonato (1999), and many others.

[7]Maria Goretti is a Roman Catholic saint and a victim of a horrific femicide that she endured at the age of 12. It is recorded that a few weeks after her first communion, she was left alone at home when Alessandro suddenly appeared beside her, covered her mouth with his hand, and dragged her into his room with the intent to rape her. The girl struggled and fought with all her might, which enraged the young man. He grabbed a knife and inflicted 14 serious stab wounds and 4 minor ones. He then fled, leaving Maria lying in her own blood. Maria forgave her murderer, and this act, along with her preserved virginity and the testimony of her killer, were the reasons Pope Pius XII declared Maria Goretti a saint in 1950 (cf. Majdančić – Gladić, 2015). Although the story is deeply touching, it should not be a reason to tolerate attempted rapes and violent murders of girls and women, or to overly glorify forgiveness and the loss of life for the preservation of female honor

[8]The popular glorification of heroic virginity is also evidenced by the song: „And I was alive and beautiful. I filled Ramu with joy. But he wanted something that I did not. And when he killed me, nothing of what I was touched. I lie here for centuries in Vran Mountain, free with untouchable freedom and loved with the love that regenerates.“ This is the story of the Herzegovinian heroine Diva Grabovčeva, which was passed down orally from generation to generation. The most common martyrological motif in popular tradition is that of girls whose honor was brutally tested by the Turkish tyrants’ violence. Many chose death, as Diva did, when she fled to her death to avoid being raped by Tahir Beg Kopčić, the ruler of the Kupres region (cf. Medić, 2015).

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