Weaponizing the Female Body in Warfare

When people think about war, they often picture combat on the front lines, military strategies, and the capture or liberation of territories. They also tend to recall news reports and expert commentaries. However, one crucial aspect of war that receives far less attention is the role of women, particularly the ways their bodies are implicated. This includes civilian women, nurses, and female soldiers who are caught in or near the thick of battle, as well as all other women living in warring states. Within the patriarchal logic of war, women’s bodies become targets, instruments, and symbols.

We must move beyond viewing war as merely a clash between nation-states and recognize it as an intensified expression of patriarchal violence. The ongoing war in Ukraine, now in its fourth year, reveals that the intersection of militarism and sexualized violence is not incidental but systematic. The female body becomes a battleground where conquest is enacted, power is asserted, identity  is rewritten, and memory is erased. To speak of women’s bodies in war, then, is to speak about the very structure of war itself and how it can be dismantled.

Violence as a Technology of War

Militarism is both an ideology and a system in which military values, such as hierarchy, discipline, obedience, and violence, come to dominate politics and society. It prioritizes armed force and justifies violence in pursuit of state or national objectives. However, militarism is not confined to the battlefield. It permeates everyday life, shaping and reinforcing a culture of power, submission, and control. Feminist scholar Cynthia Enloe notes that the military, as an institution rooted in discipline, hierarchy, and hypermasculinity, often regards the female body as a resource, something to be used, controlled, and objectified. In times of war, that object becomes a metaphorical territory. A woman is imagined as land: she can be seized, impregnated, and tarnished, not only as an act of domination to deny the “enemy’s” access to her.

This is why sexualized violence, especially in times of war, extends far beyond rape. It encompasses a wide spectrum of aggressive acts, ranging from forced nudity and harassment to threats of a sexual nature, torture, genital mutilation, sexual slavery, and forced pregnancy. These actions serve as weapons of fear, humiliation, and destruction, targeting not only individual female bodies but entire communities. In this context, sexualized violence is not an “excess of cruelty,” but a systemic mechanism of military and patriarchal domination.

Throughout history, women have been perceived as part of the “spoils of war,” given as a prize to the victor. In colonial and imperialist wars, women's bodies became rewards for service, a means of affirming victory, and a way to humiliate the enemy. This logic can be traced from ancient conquests to 20th-century conflicts.

After World War II, rape in the context of military conflict remained largely marginalized within international law. Although sexual violence was formally acknowledged and categorized as a war crime, it was notably overlooked during the Nuremberg Trials in 1945–1946, likely because the Allied forces had also committed such acts. Even after 1945, sexualized violence persisted as a characteristic of colonial warfare. It was used during the British Army’s suppression of the Mau Mau uprising (1952–1960), France’s wars in Indochina (1946–1954) and Algeria (1954–1962), and Portugal’s military campaigns in Angola and Mozambique (1960–1974). In these contexts, rape functioned as a means of asserting the dominance of white colonizers and reinforcing the racial hierarchies inherited from the 19th century.

Since the 1970s, international human rights organizations have increasingly documented and recognized sexualized violence in conflict zones in Vietnam, Bangladesh, Guatemala, and Biafra. However, only the wars in the former Yugoslavia (1992–1995) and the genocide in Rwanda (1994) fundamentally shifted the legal understanding of mass rape, marking a turning point in how such crimes are addressed under international law.

During the Rwandan genocide of 1994, brutal mass killings and sexualized violence were used as strategies of ethnic extermination. Hutu militias systematically and on a massive scale raped Tutsi women, aiming to destroy their community and impose “enemy” offspring. However, there were also documented cases of sexual violence committed by Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF) soldiers, mostly Tutsis, against both Hutu and “saved” Tutsi women. These acts included rape, forced marriages, exploitation, and coercion into sexual relations.

In Bosnia, the European investigative mission documented up to 20,000 cases of rape, with the majority of victims being Bosniak Muslim women subjected to ethnically motivated violence and forced pregnancies. Many of these women were held in so-called “rape camps,” where they were imprisoned from the moment of conception until it was too late to have an abortion. These acts of violence were chillingly described as the use of women's bodies as “biological weapons.”

It was only at the end of the 20th century that international human rights institutions such as the United Nations and the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY) began to recognize sexualized violence as a war crime, rather than dismissing it as mere “collateral damage” of conflict. Initially, such acts were legally classified as “war rape,” as seen in the landmark Jean-Paul Akayesu case at the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR) in 1998. Later in the same case, sexual violence was recognized as an element of genocide (TPIR, the Akayesu case, 1998). It evolved in the TPIY’s Kunarac case in 2001, where rape was defined as a crime against humanity.

However, rape was not recognized as a war crime until after the wars in the former Yugoslavia and Rwanda, when sexual violence was used on a large scale as a strategy to destroy ethnic groups. This marked a turning point in the evolution of international humanitarian law.

Sexualized Violence as a Weapon of War in Ukraine

The use of sexualized violence in the war in Ukraine demonstrates that this form of violence remains a tool of control and domination. Since 2014, and particularly since Russia's full-scale invasion in February 2022, numerous cases of sexual violence committed by Russian soldiers against Ukrainian civilians, including women, men, and children, have been documented.

Since the beginning of the full-scale invasion, the UN Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights has documented 376 cases of sexualized violence, including rape, torture, and other forms. Victims report that such violence is used systematically in places of detention. In addition to rape, documented abuses include threats of sexual assault, electric shocks to the genitals, and forced nudity. These acts are intended to break victims’ will, humiliate them, and extract information.

At the end of March 2022, Bucha was liberated from Russian occupation. In the aftermath, the Ukrainian government uncovered mass graves and the bodies of civilians, many bearing signs of torture and sexual violence. These findings were corroborated by eyewitness testimonies and investigative journalism. Bucha Mayor Anatoliy Fedoruk said that at least 25 cases of rape were recorded during the massacre. Reports from international organizations confirm that women and children were among the victims. These are only the cases we know about.

Following the liberation of Izium in September 2022, additional mass graves were uncovered, revealing the scale of the atrocities committed. According to Mediazona, the city was consumed by “mad horror, violence, torture, and mass killings.” Residents reported that Russian soldiers systematically tortured, raped, and abused civilians, leaving a trail of widespread and deliberate brutality.

Human Rights Watch stated in its World Report 2025: Ukraine, that, as of December 2024, Ukrainian prosecutors had opened 335 cases related to sexualized violence committed by Russian forces in detention facilities and occupied territories since February 2022. The UN Independent International Commission of Inquiry on Ukraine documented the rape of women ranging in age from four to over eighty years old. The report emphasizes that the actual number of sexual violence cases is likely much higher. These crimes were often accompanied by torture, murder, and forcing family members, including children, to witness them. Stigma, fear of retaliation, and the lack of safe and accessible reporting mechanisms prevent many survivors from coming forward, which is why the true number is likely much higher.

Survivors of sexualized violence endure serious physical and psychological consequences, including symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) such as anxiety, depression, nightmares, and profound feelings of shame. Many women struggle to return to everyday life and face deep social isolation due to stigma and societal condemnation. This problem is particularly acute in rural areas of Ukraine.

In 2025, Ukraine enacted two landmark laws aimed at recognizing and providing reparations to survivors of sexualized violence resulting from Russia’s armed aggression. The first is the Law on the Registration of Harm Caused to the Personal Non-Property Rights of Individuals as a Result of the Armed Aggression of the Russian Federation Against Ukraine. It is intended to organize information about violations of personal non-property rights suffered by Ukrainian citizens. The second law, the Law on the Legal and Social Protection of Survivors of Sexualized Violence and the Provision of Urgent Interim Compensation, establishes a framework for legally recognizing survivors and delivering emergency reparations. With the adoption of these laws, Ukraine became the first country to provide urgent compensation to survivors of sexualized violence during an ongoing armed conflict.

Meanwhile, Russian officials continue to deny all allegations of war crimes, including sexualized violence. They maintain that their forces do not target civilians or commit criminal acts. This official denial not only obstructs international efforts to hold perpetrators accountable but also further complicates the path to justice for survivors.

Both Ukrainian and international organizations are working to support survivors of sexualized violence. La Strada–Ukraine, for instance, offers counseling and assistance through dedicated hotlines. The United Nations and other international bodies are helping to establish support centers, including mobile units, to ensure that survivors have access to medical, psychological, and legal assistance.

However, many grassroots initiatives have been facing serious challenges. In a 2024 interview with Posle.Media, the founder of the Martynka Project, reported that funding for social programs, particularly those providing support to survivors of sexual exploitation, was being cut. As a result, the team has been forced to operate with limited resources, leading some helplines to reduce the number of free consultations they can offer. Other human rights organizations have similarly reported funding shortfalls and staff shortages. Many are struggling to access grant opportunities, and their exclusion from international and governmental initiatives further hampers their work, limiting their ability to provide critical, community-based support.

One example is Sylni (i.e., The Strong Ones), a charitable foundation that has provided psychological, medical, and legal support to hundreds of survivors since the war began. In 2024 alone, Sylni responded to hundreds of requests and conducted approximately 300 psychological counseling sessions. Despite the scope of their work, the team acknowledges ongoing financial difficulties and a shortage of personnel, which hinder their ability to respond swiftly and effectively to the growing needs of survivors.

Sexualized Violence Against Their Own

Sexualized violence within the Russian military reflects a deeper systemic problem. Unlike the violence directed at an “enemy” during acts of military aggression, here the violence occurs within the ranks, serving to reinforce hierarchy and domination.

In the context of an authoritarian regime and growing militarization, where women’s rights and safety are not a concern for military leadership, such violence is often ignored or concealed. This is not due to ignorance, but because it is not regarded as a serious offense, either by commanding officers or within the broader logic of the state apparatus.

The following groups are particularly vulnerable:

• Women soldiers within the military hierarchy
• Partners/wives of servicemen, especially during their rotations or return from the front
• Civilians who experience violence from military personnel in the rear zones.

Women serving in the Russian armed forces face systemic gender-based violence, ranging from demeaning comments, harassment, and discrimination to coercion into sexual relationships and outright rape. Although reliable data on the scale of sexualized violence within the military is lacking (due to the closed nature of military structures and the lack of independent oversight), some statements confirm that this issue is systemic. Within an environment defined by rigid hierarchy and enforced submission, typical of military structures, any attempt to report abuse is often seen as a breach of discipline. As a result, women who come forward frequently face intimidation and pressure. Official complaint channels either do not function or contribute further to the stigmatization of survivors, while rarely holding perpetrators accountable.

The article by Sever.Realii features statements from female soldiers who were subjected to sexual violence by their commanders. The women describe pressure from fellow soldiers and officers, being forced to leave the military due to the inability to defend themselves or their rights, and a complete lack of consequences for the perpetrators. A striking example is the case of 42-year-old Margarita, who signed a contract in 2022 and was assigned to a medical unit. The regiment commander transferred her to headquarters, declaring that she would become his “field wife.” When she refused to engage in a relationship with him, he ordered unbearable conditions: she was denied a uniform, forced to sleep outdoors, and eventually sent to the front line. According to her, other female medics were also subjected to sexual violence: “assigned” to officers, intimidated, punished for refusal, and “rewarded” for obedience.

Margarita also spoke about her fellow soldier Svetlana, who was beaten and raped by a platoon commander. He later inflicted a serious injury on her and attempted to cover up the assault by shooting himself in the arm. Svetlana survived but was left permanently disabled. All of this occurred with complete impunity for the perpetrator: neither the command nor fellow soldiers intervened, and formal complaints and appeals were ignored.

However, even these cases likely represent only the tip of the iceberg. The true scale of sexual violence within the military may be far greater, obscured by a pervasive culture of silence and fear of retaliation. Female soldiers often hesitate to report abuse due to the potential impact on their careers and personal safety.

Moreover, military personnel commit acts of sexual violence not only on the front lines against women serving alongside them but also against civilians. In 2022, Russian military courts saw a record-high number of such cases in a decade involving crimes against sexual integrity committed by servicemen. According to Sibir.Realii, the number of these cases rose 4.5 times compared to 2012, reaching 110 incidents. Notably, at least half of the victims were minors.

Forced Motherhood as a Tool of “Nation-Building”

In the context of war, the Russian state is increasingly seeking to control women's bodies as a resource, primarily for demographic and ideological purposes. Women are being positioned as a key “infrastructural element” of the national project. Since 2022, this narrative has been reinforced by aggressive state rhetoric, propaganda about women’s “duty,” and escalating restrictions on reproductive rights.

State and pro-government media portray the image of the mother as a biological guarantor of the nation’s survival, and, therefore, of the state itself. Within this paradigm, a woman is reduced to a “bearer of soldiers.” As thousands of men die on the front lines, the issue of birth rates has been recast by authorities as a matter of “strategic security.” This appeal to the female “national body” is not unprecedented; similar ideologies were instrumentalized in the USSR, Nazi Germany, and numerous other states.

Since 2022, several Russian regions have systematically removed abortion services from private clinics, replacing them with so-called “alternatives”: mandatory consultations with priests, psychologists, and representatives of “maternal protection centers.” By 2023, more than 25 regions had introduced initiatives to restrict abortion access. In 2024, the Ministry of Health endorsed the proposal to ban abortion procedures in private medical institutions completely.

At the same time, the authorities have been tightening restrictions on access to medication abortion. In 2023, a proposal was introduced to classify misoprostol and mifepristone, essential medications used for medical abortion, as strictly controlled substances. As a result, many pharmacies have already ceased selling them. Pressure is also mounting within medical facilities, where doctors report that women are increasingly subjected to psychological coercion and urged to “change their minds” and carry pregnancies to term, regardless of their circumstances. In some regions, women have already been effectively deprived of access to abortion altogether.

In November 2024, Vladimir Putin signed a bill banning the “promotion of the childfree lifestyle,” modeled after the law prohibiting “promotion of non-traditional relationships.” The bill imposes administrative fines for public statements allegedly encouraging people to forgo having children. This legislative pressure is reinforced by official rhetoric: for instance, State Duma Speaker Vyacheslav Volodin described the promotion of childlessness as a socially dangerous phenomenon that obstructs efforts to solve the country’s demographic challenges. Communist Party MP Nina Ostanina went further, expressing hope that a mandatory “family studies” course would be introduced in Russian schools starting in 2024 to promote traditional family values.

However, attempts at demographic regulation by targeting young pregnant women sparked significant discontent, even among female deputies. In several regions, including Oryol, Kemerovo, and Tver, local authorities introduced payments of at least 100,000 rubles to schoolgirls and students for registering their pregnancies. In response, MP Kseniya Goryacheva criticized these initiatives, calling them “harmful propaganda,” arguing that teenage pregnancy is not something that should be incentivized.

Gender-based violence at the front lines often continues in the form of domestic abuse after soldiers return home. This, too, represents a means of controlling women’s bodies and reflects the same underlying militaristic logic. According to the media outlet Verstka, the number of administrative offense cases involving combat veterans nearly doubled between 2022 and 2023, with at least 104 cases recorded. In 63.5% of these cases, the victims were women. During the same period, the number of criminal battery cases involving combat veterans, many of whom had had prior assault charges, also nearly doubled.

Human rights advocates point out that men returning from the war often suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Yet while the state pours billions into the war effort, it offers neither rehabilitation for these men nor support for their families. At the same time, the glorification of soldiers and the militarization of public life contribute to the silencing and normalization of violence. Women who are partners and relatives to these servicemen are left without access to protection.

As a result, Russian women today are increasingly confined to one of two roles: either as “birth mothers of the nation” or as silent victims, whose vulnerability is both politically enabled and culturally normalized. In this context, women's rights are being deliberately dismantled in order to reinforce a patriarchal and militaristic order.

Resistance and Agency

Despite widespread violence and repressive state mechanisms, women are not passive victims or silent observers. They continue to resist, fighting for control over their bodies, for the right to choose, safety, and a voice. This struggle takes many forms: human rights advocacy, education, activism, and the everyday refusal to conform to imposed roles.

In a context where open protest — like any other — is criminalized, alongside nearly all other forms of dissent, some women turn to online initiatives, others build semi-underground, horizontal mutual aid networks, and many choose to leave the country, helping others to do the same. Each of these acts constitutes a form of resistance, where agency is expressed not only through direct protest but also through care, resilience, and quiet defiance.

As legal restrictions and social pressure intensify, many women have resorted to “abortion tourism”, traveling to other regions or seeking assistance from international initiatives such as Women on Web. In response to the limited availability of emergency contraceptives, informal support networks have emerged. Women have created private Telegram chats to exchange instructions, share contact information for sympathetic doctors, and provide guidance on accessing anonymous pharmacies. These groups operate in cities such as Moscow, Yekaterinburg, and Kazan, prioritizing strict anonymity and safety protocols. Another notable initiative is the Emergency Contraception Storage Fund, where participants coordinate the distribution of contraceptives across regions and respond to urgent, time-sensitive needs.

Feminist initiatives, despite mounting pressure, are preserving space for resistance, even as it becomes increasingly underground. Since the start of the war, many human rights organizations have been labeled as “foreign agents,” “undesirable,” or shut down altogether. Nevertheless, their work persists through mirror websites, encrypted communication channels, and anonymous hotlines. Mutual aid initiatives also play a crucial role, providing legal, psychological, and material support to women affected by violence.

Even emigration becomes a form of resistance: women leave the country to avoid being drawn into the state’s militaristic and reproductive agenda, refusing to give birth “for the state” or to serve the needs of those returning from the frontlines of the special military operation. Beyond the country’s borders, they continue the struggle under new conditions: contributing to feminist media, organizing solidarity events, supporting political prisoners, building international communities and online platforms, and documenting war crimes. Every day, they choose in favor of freedom and dignity, despite war, patriarchy, and repression.

Even as the state attempts to strip women of their subjectivity — reducing them to either “victims” or “reproductive units” — they assert their right to speak, to act, to choose. They refuse to stay muted about violence. They do not ask for permission to engage in politics because their bodily experience is inherently political. War renders patriarchy especially visible and especially brutal, but in that exposure, women find a new source of power: the ability to name violence for what it is and to resist it. This struggle will not end with a return to the prewar “normalcy”, a status quo that also entailed violence and control. It is a fight for a radically different future, one in which women’s bodily autonomy is not questioned in any way.

Women’s agency in wartime is not heroism in the conventional, male-defined sense — not self-sacrifice for an abstract notion of victory. It is a daily, persistent assertion of their own existence, in the face of destruction, loss, and stigma. It is a form of resistance that emerges from the body, from pain, from lived experiences long dismissed as secondary or irrelevant. Women are not only fighting to survive, but they are also reshaping the very logic of what is considered possible and valuable. And that is what makes their resistance truly radical.

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