A message in large capital letters has been posted on a wall opposite the entrance to the Avignon courthouse. “Gisèle, women thank you,” it reads. On it others have scribbled: “All our respect” and “Spain, Germany, Italy, Belgium, Brazil, England … are with you.”
At demonstrations, protesters have held signs reading: “Je suis Gisèle” in support of the woman who has become a national and international feminist figurehead.
With each detail that emerges from the trial of Gisèle Pelicot’s former husband Dominique, 71 – accused of drugging her and inviting at least 80 strangers into their home to rape her – comes even greater respect for the woman whose name is now synonymous with courage and tenacity.
Madame Pelicot, as everyone at the courthouse addresses her, refuses to be humiliated by the men she has called “degenerates”, insisting “the shame is theirs”. She strides into court each day while several of the 50 men accused of raping or sexually assaulting her shuffle through the security checks wearing masks, hats, scarves to conceal their identity.
On Wednesday, after addressing the court, Gisèle Pelicot left to the sort of reception reserved for pop stars and actors: a long ovation and shouts of “bravo”. Such public support has given her strength, she says. “If I’m holding on, it’s because I have all these women victims supporting me,” she said in court.
In waiving her anonymity, allowing the process to be held in public and agreeing to the videos her husband made to be shown in open court, Gisèle Pelicot has diverted the spotlight on to her alleged rapists.
For women’s rights campaigners, the 72-year-old, who likes raspberry ice-cream and the occasional glass of white wine – both of which her husband is accused of lacing with anti-anxiety and sleeping drugs – and who has only ever slept with two men, is a victim who simply cannot be blamed or stereotyped.
Attempts by defence lawyers to portray her as a libertine or an accomplice, or questions about her alcohol consumption, promiscuity and underwear, stand in stark contrast to the videos made by Dominique Pelicot that show her unconscious, almost comatose, often snoring.
“She is a symbolic figure because she is irreproachable,” Anne-Cécile Mailfert, founder of the Fondation des Femmes, said.
“She does not have the profile of a woman who was ‘looking for it’, an accusation often levelled at rape victims. As she appears exemplary and cannot be reproved for anything, we see only the violence of the men. And the courage she shows gives millions of other women courage.”
In response to campaigners’ calls to address what they call a “culture of rape” and “culture of impunity” in France, the justice minister, Didier Migaud, has come out in support of adding “consent” to the definition of rape in French criminal law.
Many in France oppose this, however, arguing that rape is best understood not as a non-consensual sexual act but a predatory one, and that focusing on consent places the victim, not the aggressor, at the centre of an investigation.
“Consent is the wrong issue. It places the emphasis once more on the victim, not the rapist,” says Mailfert.
“We are calling for a comprehensive law against sexual violence that would address the impunity allowed by our institutions, including a systematic investigation of rape complaints, a ban on investigations into the victim’s sexual past … a law that would provide a framework and the means to act and protect [rape victims].”
Gisèle Pelicot’s lawyer, Antoine Camus, is also dubious about changing the law to include consent, fearing it would “backfire” on victims. “What exactly is consent in sexual matters? To any sexual act, or to one in particular?” he said. “Our definition of rape is not perfect today, but it has the merit of not falling into this trap.”
Commentators agree that the Pelicot case is a watershed, but Mailfert believes that it alone will not bring the necessary societal change.
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“There will be a ‘before’ and an ‘after’ Pelicot, but the politicians, the media, the legal system on their own will not bring the profound change needed,” she said.
“It should be possible when they are all aligned, as they are in this case, and I’m angry the politicians are not capable of seizing this moment. All we can do is continue to push.”
Anne Bouillon, a lawyer specialising in women’s rights and domestic violence, said making the necessary social, cultural and legal changes to address issues raised in the trial would cost money at a time when the French government is seeking big cuts to public expenditure.
“Rape is committed in a structural manner in our society by ordinary men. We need considerable, dedicated means if we are to relieve the suffering of women victims, and I am more than dubious that this will happen in the current political reality,” Bouillon said.
“But if we end up with some small reforms that don’t cost much, it will be extremely disappointing.”
Since the trial began in September, there have been calls for Gisèle Pelicot to be celebrated publicly: given a Nobel prize or the Legion d’Honneur, or a place on the cover of Time magazine. However, Bouillon counsels against putting her on a pedestal, saying the “rapist monsters, victim heroine” narrative is an error.
“What we see from this trial is that they are very ordinary men and she is an ordinary victim – and it is not an insult to say that. There are dozens, hundreds, of Gisèle Pelicots in France. She has not sought to be an icon or be put on a pedestal – but she will be a model for others.
“In court last week I represented a victim who was raped as a nine-year-old, and she wanted the hearing held in public.
She said that because Gisèle Pelicot had the courage to do it, so would she.”
