You have couples involved in trafficking. But for me, there are some things in trafficking related to gender: less power, less access, less opportunity, less healthy life, less possibility of choice, the less. There is something about being less. So being less, there is a lot on gender. Even being a man. Maybe a lot of men trafficked also suffer from the less … So I think it is really related to gender issues.
(E. Ferreras, Programme Director, Multilateral Cooperation and Gender, Spanish Agency for International Development and Cooperation, 9 October 2009)
Human trafficking is frequently described in ‘gendered’ terms, with women seen as ‘easy targets’ for traffickers (US TIP Report, 2009: 36) and as ‘more vulnerable than men to being trafficked’ (Mediterranean Institute of Gender Studies, 2007: 6).
In many respects, this is an unsurprising assumption given the attention paid by international organisations, academics and the popular press to the ‘feminisation of poverty’ (e.g. Ansah, 2006: 101 on sex work and trafficking in Ghana) and the
‘feminisation of migration’ (e.g. Andrijasevic, 2004: 181; La Strada, 2008: 76, 82;
Wijers and Lap-Chew, 1997: 43).
The assumption that females are most at risk of becoming victims draws upon the view that class, race, sexuality and culture intersect to reinforce women’s marginalisation. First, women are seen as more vulnerable to trafficking simply because they are women, with gender inequality assumed to be a driver of trafficking. Second, and interlinked with this assumption, are the socio-cultural values, expectations and traditions that shape women’s decision-making with regard to whether or not to migrate and what conditions of work to accept abroad.
Furthermore, the dynamics of trafficking themselves are presented in a gendered and stereotypical manner: women are pictured as victims who suffer at the hands of largely male perpetrators. Authors frequently emphasise the male perpetrator, or the male client in discussions on sex work. Donna Hughes, for example, writes that both trafficking and prostitution are ‘highly gendered systems that result from structural inequality between women and men on a world scale’.
She continues by noting how ‘[m]en create the demand and women are the supply’
(2006: 10). Significantly less recognition is given in the academic literature to the female perpetrator. While it is a norm to hear references to the ‘madam’ in literature on sex work (e.g. Bernstein, 2007; Ward and Day, 2006; Dandona et al., 2006; Wahab, 2002), the female trafficker is often ignored.1
1 An interesting study by Bridget Anderson (2002) on migrant labour in the EU, which analyses why the increased demand for domestic workers is met by migrant women, highlights how the race and citizenship status of migrants distinguish them from their female
In this chapter, I explore this ‘gendering’ of trafficking. Unlike the uni-directional approach of authors such as Hughes and their unquestioning focus on the female victim, I use gender as a lens to explore various dimensions of the phenomenon of trafficking. I argue that trafficking is, in fact,gendered and I support a number of the contentions outlined above regarding a correlation between some aspects of gender inequality and heightened vulnerability to trafficking. However, my analysis also highlights the need for the mainstream trafficking framework to adopt a more nuanced approach to gender, one which moves beyond the simple dichotomy of male perpetrator and female victim.
First, I discuss the contention that trafficking is driven by gender inequality.
After briefly setting out the literature, I examine the argument that traditional values imposed on women play a role in the process of human trafficking. Next, I turn to evidence from the field regarding the assumed role played by such factors as domestic violence, women’s secondary status in the family, obligations to provide for one’s family and Confucianism in the course of human trafficking.
I then turn to the ‘non-gendering’ of trafficking. Jeff Jearn and Linda McKie note, particularly in relation to domestic violence, that men are not usually gendered or mentioned as men (2008). The non-gendering of men, as Johanna Niemi points out, is also evident in research on sex work, when the ‘buyers-abusers are invisible and nongendered’ (2010: 161). That is, by comparison to the deliberate emphasis placed on the gender of women as victims of inequality or in this case trafficking, perpetrators are referred to as men, with no analysis of the significance of their gender. As will be discussed below, I add that little effort is made to assess whether perpetrators are or are not in reality typically male.
Throughout this chapter, I argue that when the mainstream trafficking discourse shifts beyond a focus on the ‘female victim’, trafficking becomes non-gendered, ignoring both male victims of trafficking but also unexpected or non-stereotypical gender roles evident in current patterns of human trafficking. I review data on male victims. I also analyse the gendered aspects of exploitation experienced by both male and female victims in destination countries. I subsequently turn to what can be considered a reversal of the female victim/male perpetrator dichotomy and examine the female trafficker. My discussion ends with an analysis of male and female victim stigma. I conclude by arguing that the failure of observers of human trafficking to see and deconstruct the gender of the phenomenon beyond the ‘female victim’ has contributed to the assumption that the typical victim is a woman trafficked into sexual exploitation.
For the purpose of this chapter, my definition of gender is broad, encompassing the biological sex of victims, gendered social inequalities, gender stereotypes, gendered labour and exploitation and finally, engendered stigma. I also touch briefly
employer. However, Anderson made little of the fact that it was largely the female member of the household who was seen as the employer rather than the male or both members of a hetereosexual couple.
on the issue of sexual orientation and gender identity.2 Of the few authors to explore gender in the context of trafficking, Adriana Piscitelli and Marcia Vasconcelos critique the equating in trafficking literature of the term ‘gender’ with women (2008: 14).3 This equation is in fact a common practice throughout the development and human rights sectors.4 Drawing on the work of authors such as Judith Butler, Piscitelli and Vasconcelos urge us to look beyond gender as synonymous with women, or the view that gender relates simply to power relations between men and women. In this chapter, I concur with this view and use the term gender in the broader sense as a tool for better understanding the dynamics at play in trafficking.
Despite the need for a more nuanced approach to discussing the gendered nature of trafficking, it is nonetheless essential to recognise women-specific patterns of migration. Stringent standards for legal migration often leave men and women who wish to migrate few options other than to accept the social and economic vulnerabilities that arise with unsafe migration. When combined with cultural values that emphasise women’s roles as mothers, wives and daughters and economic contributors to their households, alongside the possibility of accepting less than desirable work to fulfil these expectations, there is a ‘female’
gendered aspect of trafficking that involves specific push factors and experiences of trafficking that cannot be ignored. It is here that I begin my analysis.
‘Gender’ Inequality and the Traffic of Women and Girls
Gender Inequality as a Presumed ‘Push Factor’
There is an array of literature that assumes a link between gender inequality, in terms of women’s subordinate status, and human trafficking. At times, this is a passing reference; yet often it is the stated objective of the author to defend the existence of such a link. Policy-makers such as Noeleen Heyzer, former Executive Director of then UNIFEM (now amalgamated into UN Women), have argued that
‘daughters are perceived as a liability by their families, who are obliged to marry them off well, ensure their pre-marital sexual purity, provide substantial marriage 2 One informant in Ukraine, academic Larysa Magdyuk, when asked whether people understand what gender equality means, responded, ‘We had to work pretty intensively on explaining this to people, this gender politica, this gender ideologica. These are still new words’ (4 August 2009). In reality, informants during my research may have attributed diverse meanings to the term ‘gender’.
3 That is: ‘gênero é freqüentemente tratado como sinônimo de “mulheres”’. The authors’ interests lie primarily in the experiences of women and transvestites in the Brazil sex industry, as well as their experiences of working in Spain.
4 Gender inequality and gender mainstreaming, popularised by the development sector from around 1997 onwards, has come to signify inequalities facing women when compared to men and the mainstreaming of women’s rights throughout development and human rights practice (Edwards, 2010: 35).
expenses and continue to offer material resources to the daughter’s marital family on auspicious occasions’ (2002: 9). As a result of these value systems, Heyzer argues that we see ‘the sale of women and girls into marriage; willingness to marry off young girls to strangers who make no monetary demands, thus predisposing [these girls] to trafficking’ (2002: 9). Heyzer adds that vulnerability caused by marital infidelity, alcoholism, domestic violence, desertion by husbands and divorce all increase the risk of women being trafficked (2002: 9).
Similar arguments have been made by the former UN Special Rapporteur on Violence against Women, Radhika Coomaraswamy, who argued in a 2000 report (pre-dating the Trafficking Protocol) that trafficking in women ‘flourishes’ precisely because of vulnerabilities arising from women’s lack of access to resources, what she termed the ‘women-specific character’ of the human rights violations that underlie trafficking (2000: ¶ 1). In her view, poverty and gender discrimination are maintained through the collusion of the market, the state, the community and the family unit. Like Heyzer, Coomaraswamy argues that traditional family structures, sex roles and the unequal division of labour in the home support a system of trafficking. Coomaraswamy further notes that a ‘push’ factor of trafficking is a
‘preference for male children and the culture of male privilege’ which ‘deprives girls and women of access to basic and higher education, and, consequently, illiteracy rates among women remain high’ (2000: ¶ 57).
Academic writers have drawn similar links to the gendered nature of irregular migration. Sebastian Lăzăroiu and Monica Alexandru, writing specifically on Romanian women, argue that the demand for low-wage labour and the existence of gender-specific employment sectors generate a segmentation of the migration labour market, with labour opportunities more numerous and better regulated for male rather than female migrants. As a result, they contend, female migrants have to resort to unofficial channels. They further note that ‘[c]lassified ads seeking female labour often publish criteria that have less to do with professional skills, and much more or exclusively with the applicant’s physical appearance or age’
(Lăzăroiu and Alexandru, 2003: 21).
Patience Elabor-Idemudia, writing on the traffic of women and girls from Africa, states (without providing quantitative evidence) that the ‘overwhelming majority of trafficked persons are women and girls’, with trafficking presumed to be the ‘result of discrimination on the basis of sex’ (2003: 116). Elabor-Idemudia adds that inadequate attention has been paid to intersectional discrimination, with race-related gender inequality often ignored. She notes that if attention is paid to which women are trafficked, the link to racial and social marginalisation becomes evident. Race constitutes not only a ‘risk factor’ but possibly also determines
‘the kind of treatment that women experience in destination countries’ (Elabor-Idemudia 2003: 116).
Linking gender inequality and trafficking is particularly prominent in NGO reports and programmes. For example, La Strada, a European NGO network addressing trafficking in human beings within the region, particularly from central and eastern Europe, adopts the view that there is an indisputable and intimate
link between gender inequality and human trafficking: ‘It is generally known that women are disproportionally affected by the social and economic factors that are known to be root causes of trafficking, namely, poverty, discrimination, gender-based violence, armed conflict, unemployment and inequality and oppressive social structures’ (2008: 7). Yet, there is a lack of empirical evidence of the links between specific manifestations of gender inequality and human trafficking. The evidence that emerged from my field research concerning the existence of a relationship, if any, with gender inequality, is discussed in more detail in the following section.
Confucianism, Communism and Post-Communist states
During the course of my research in Vietnam, Ukraine and Ghana, the lesser status of women when compared with men was evident. No informant disputed the existence of this inequality and none questioned gender inequality as a ‘push factor’ for trafficking. However, many informants reiterated the complexity of this relationship, with several questioning linear arguments. For example, Vietnamese informants expressed doubt about the supposed link between the secondary status Confucianism attributes to women when compared to men and the eventual exploitation of Vietnamese migrant women abroad. In Ukraine, while some informants emphasised domestic violence as a push factor, other informants noted a lack of substantial evidence to establish a direct connection between gender inequality, and domestic violence in post-Soviet Ukraine and trafficking. In Ghana, while cultural factors were noted as a central barrier to women’s equality with men, no informant explained how such barriers relate to Ghanaian women’s entry into situations of exploitation abroad.
Beginning with the question of Confucianism, this ideology has been ‘blamed’
for gender inequality in Vietnam5 (Phan, 2005; Marr, 1976: 372; Ngô Thi, 2004:
71; Leung, 2003: 361). Peter Chan Phan, for example, argues that Confucianism as an ethic-religious system is still deeply influential among Vietnamese whose 5 There are numerous manifestations of gender inequality in Vietnam. The CEDAW Committee, for example, has expressed concern about the persistence of patriarchal attitudes and deep-rooted stereotypes regarding roles and responsibilities of women and men, as well as a preference for male offspring, with the resulting disadvantage for women taking both economic and political forms (2007: ¶ 12). The World Bank and others have expressed concerns specifically about ethnic minority women in particular, who have much lower literacy and education participation rates and experience significantly higher infant and maternal mortality. Twenty per cent of ethnic minority young women have never attended school (World Bank, 2006: 26, 29). Across the Vietnamese population, only 33 per cent of land use certificates are issued in the name of women or both spouses (World Bank, 2006:
43). Women work longer hours than men, reflecting their dual responsibility for productive work and care-giving (World Bank, 2006: 41; Lee, 2008: 13). A survey by, among others, the Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism, showed a prevalence of domestic violence in 21 per cent of couples (husband to wife and vice versa) (MOCST et al., 2008: 36). Violence is, however, overwhelming perpetrated by men against women (MOCST et al., 2008: 36).
‘Confucian DNA’ remains in spite of the political, social and religious changes of the last decades (2005: 40). In reports from the mid-90s and in more recent studies, pressure on potential women migrants to supplement family income has been attributed to Confucian values such as ‘filial piety’ (Rushing, 2006, 475; see also Siddiqi and Patrinos, 1995:7).
The notion that Confucianism has any relationship with trafficking was, however, firmly disputed by one informant, who spontaneously raised the issue:
Trafficking is an economic issue. Trafficking of women for sex and marriage is a demographic issue and driven by the market. I think there are cultural factors that make trafficking more or less likely, but it would [have] more to do with how women see their roles and their economy and their duty to the family and therefore their sense of shame and honour … Cambodian women are trafficked all the time and they are not Confucian. (Anon., Gender expert, UN Country Team, Vietnam 20 October 2009)
In a similar vein, another informant reflected on the centrality of familial obligation and women’s perceptions of their roles. This informant labelled the family pressures on women as ‘one cause’ but not the main one. The informant continued by arguing that ‘the pressure from the family, it is a very Asian thing. The woman always has to go out and do the work to support the families’. She further noted that ‘women themselves “desire” to support their families’ (P. Changmanee, Regional Programme Director, Regional Anti-Human Trafficking Programme, Oxfam Quebec, 16 October 2009).
The view that gender inequality is one cause but that ‘[i]t is always a complex of factors’ was shared by another informant from an international NGO operating in Vietnam. This informant went on to share the experience of one victim that reveals a complex intersection of sex, gender identity and sexual orientation:
One of the women in the cooperative [for trafficked returnees] had finished high school. She [had been] offered a job abroad, spoke Russian and was trafficked to Russia. She said: ‘In my case, I do not have a poor academic background. I did not have enough money to receive a university degree, but I wanted a better life. I am not naive; I just wanted a better life’. She was forced into marrying a Russian and had to flee, leaving behind her child. She is actually a lesbian. She lives with this partner. She told me she wants to be called ‘father’ and I asked her why and she said: ‘Men are powerful. I want to be labelled as a man’.
Analysing this story, the informant noted the pressures faced by women in rural societies that make them more vulnerable. Having worked previously in Bangladesh, she went as far as to contend that the greater freedoms offered to Vietnamese women when compared to Bangladeshi women in terms of work, dress and travel abroad, particularly following the transition, might make them
more vulnerable: ‘Freedom of movement is wonderful but perhaps it exposes you to something else’ (12 October 2009).
Similarly offering a view on the question of the socialist transition, one informant in Vietnam argued that socialism gave priority to gender equality.
Noting that this was a generalisation and not wanting to be ‘an apologist’ for any socialist regime, the informant contended that ‘gender inequality becomes a kind of a protest against socialism’ (Anon., Gender expert, UN Country Team, Vietnam 20 October 2009). This informant continued: ‘[w]omen are saying, “Well, we were better when there was public housing and the communal canteens”. So I think women appreciated it, even though no one appreciated the extent of intervention in private lives’.
Nonetheless, a substantial body of literature highlights the inequality similarly suffered by women under socialist regimes. Alicia Leung describes the reproduction of patriarchy by male and female Communists in Marxist-Leninist-Maoist China despite their strong commitment to women’s emancipation (Leung, 2003: 360, 363–4). In Susan Brownmiller’s discussion of Vietnam’s communist movement, she similarly notes the tendency for female Communist revolutionaries to join what became a side-lined Vietnam Women’s Union (VWU), a mass organisation formed in 1930, the formation of which ‘effectively shut women out of full participation of the main arena’ (Brownmiller, 1994: 83).6 If we were to accept the analysis of these authors, one could say that it is not the influence of Confucianism that is the key cultural factor for the imbalance of gender relations in Vietnam, but possibly the Communist system which created a separate entity for women and side-lined them from mainstream opportunities. This side-lining of the VWU has arguably persisted in modern-day politics in Vietnam.
Evidence from my informants suggests a regression in the level of equality experienced by Ukrainian women after the transition: ‘While in the previous periods of society, women were more or less mandatorily represented in all
Evidence from my informants suggests a regression in the level of equality experienced by Ukrainian women after the transition: ‘While in the previous periods of society, women were more or less mandatorily represented in all