Abstract
This article examines how women in South Africa, in challenging marital violence, navigate relations of patriarchal domination through appeals to the state, familial channels, or a combination of both. Using Kandiyoti’s concept of “patriarchal bargains,” the article describes how women during family meetings draw upon the state to challenge patriarchy within intimate partnerships and reassert control within their marriages. However, by drawing on the state for support, women have to navigate the patriarchal domination at the macro level as the state continues to act as an oppressive entity, particularly as it continues to constrain women’s access to justice.
South Africa has one of the highest rates of domestic violence in the world (van Schalkwyk, Boonzaier, & Gobodo-Madikizela, 2015). Most scholars agree that the exact prevalence is unknown as many incidents of violence do not get reported, and many reports of domestic violence do not end in prosecutions and therefore fail to show up in administrative records (Artz, 2008; Mogstad, Dryding, & Fiorotto, 2016). Interestingly, Vetten (2014) demonstrated that over an 18-month period, in one locality in one province in South Africa, there were 942 reports of some form of intimate partner violence 1 made to one local police station and hospital, as well as to the courts serving the area, with only 6.7% of these reports making their way into official statistics as only 63 women pressed charges. Some of the findings in the literature highlight that families also play a key role in mediating disputes on domestic violence and that service providers and legislation are largely ineffective (Makofane & Du Preez, 2000).
Involving the police or state is often considered unacceptable and disloyal, and the social costs are too high for many women (Curran & Bonthuys, 2005; Mogstad et al., 2016). Literature on domestic violence also shows that some women said that it was shameful to go to the police as others might think that they have overreacted, and identifying as victims may make them weak and powerless in their relationships. The ways in which women have to navigate the patriarchal state through their engagement with the police and the courts have indicated many problems with women’s access to justice (Artz, 2008; Curran & Bonthuys, 2005), such as high cost and/or limited travel to courts and police stations, slow response times from police, few support services for abused women if they need to leave home, and high rates of poverty resulting in women struggling to pay for basic necessities if they need to relocate. Moreover, Parenzee, Artz, and Moult (2001, p. 83) suggested that the police force is often unwilling to intervene in “household disputes” and that domestic violence was rife among police officers. They argued “that progressive legislation, combined with unprogressive attitudes among law enforcement agents, created negative attitudes towards complainants, resulting in secondary victimisation of abused women.” Negative attitudes toward complainants were found to be related to complainants’ withdrawal of charges.
Relative to the extensive literature on the role of the police and courts, the body of literature on the role of the family in mediating disputes on domestic violence is much smaller. In a large qualitative study with over 350 women, researchers found that up to one third of cases reported that abuse had stopped following the court application as family members had attempted to either mediate or dissuade the applicant from returning (Artz, 2008). Women in South Africa do not report domestic violence to state institutions, but prefer traditional systems to the modern legal system when it comes to domestic violence which is considered a private matter (Bassadien & Hochfeld, 2005; Curran & Bonthuys, 2005; Green, 1999; Himonga & Moore, 2015; Mogstad et al., 2016). Evidence has emerged on how many women were afraid to report domestic violence and that they often dropped criminal charges because of economic dependence (Shefer et al., 2008). Involving the police was considered unacceptable and disloyal; police interference was seen to violate culturally correct procedures.
The country has a pluralist system of dispute resolution forums, comprising both state and customary forums of dispute resolution. The customary system referred to here involves a family meeting. A family meeting can be understood as “a traditional (extra-judicial) system of arbitration which often takes place when violations of accepted norms have occurred which may invite some sort of sanction” (Green, 1999, p. 165). The custom of calling a family meeting describes the repetitive behaviors of a group of people in South Africa (Higgins, Fenrich, & Tanzer, 2006; van der Waal, 2004; Author) and Botswana (Griffiths, 1997) when marital discord arises. This custom is a source of a customary rule as there is normative agreement (Himonga & Moore, 2015) that this dispute resolution forum is the correct place to seek assistance with a marital discord problem. This behavior constitutes a rule, and deviation from the expected behavior is openly criticized and incurs several risks, as noted above. It is this acceptance of having a family meeting to discuss marital discord that makes it law by giving it authority. It is important to note that this custom, as will be noted in the findings that follow, evolves as the people who live by its norms change their patterns of life and move between cultural expectations and state laws.
Some scholars argue that family meetings play a role in maintaining marital violence by minimizing the abuse or colluding with the abuser (Bassadien & Hochfeld, 2005), and when women consult family, they are advised to reconcile with their husbands (Boonzaier & de La Rey, 2003). Some of the female participants in a qualitative study conducted in Khaylitsha, Cape Town, argued that “families were involved not to end the abuse but to broker the peace and ‘keep the family together’” (Mogstad et al., 2016, p. 8). There is little attention to the way in which women navigate the family meeting and state support systems simultaneously in challenging marital violence. 2 This article, therefore, unpacks the ways in which women in customary marriages navigate patriarchy through the family and state institutions in reporting, defining, and contesting marital violence within customary marriages.
A customary marriage is defined in legislation “as a marriage in accordance with customary law” and a definition of customary law as “the customs and usages traditionally observed among the indigenous African peoples of South Africa and which form part of the culture of those peoples.” A customary marriage is common among many African groups and is regarded as a process that may take place over many years, which involves reciprocal relations between families and brings together families rather than individuals (Griffiths, 1997). Similar to the families at the center of Abraham’s (2002) book, a customary marriage is an alliance between families which allows for greater long-term security and stability for families.
The literature highlights how women experience patriarchy at the family level as wives are exposed to unequal power relations among extended kin, such as their co-wives (Mbatha, Moosa, & Bonthys, 2007; Moore, 2015a; Pienaar, 2003), their former husbands (Budlender, Mbgweba, Motsepe, & Williams, 2011; Griffiths, 1997), and their husbands’ families (Budlender et al., 2011; Burman, 2008; Griffiths, 1997; Moore, 2015a). Indeed, Ramphele (1989) pointed out, “the very fact of marrying into a family is at the basis of bringing the woman into a system of control that ensures the perpetuation of patriarchal family relations” (p. 401) Researchers have also highlighted the influence of traditional cultures on abuse and women’s strategies to cope with abuse (Abraham, 2002; Derne, 1994; Fernandez, 1997; Nhlapo, 2008; Ramphele & Boonzaier, 1988; Sideris, 2004). Sideris (2004) confirms that, in South Africa, “culture retains a powerful place in specifying identity and gender conflicts. . . . Confronted by challenges to male domination, representatives of [community] institutions are at the forefront of appealing to ‘culture’ and ‘tradition’ to reassert male authority” (p. 104). As a result, there are many women and men in communities who share the idea that at some level it is “culturally” acceptable to beat your wife under certain circumstances. Scholars in this field (Almeida & Dolan-Delvecchio, 1999; Dasgupta, 1998) have examined the balance between the role of culture and structure, often with an intersectional lens (Crenshaw, 1991), where patterns of violence are best understood by examining the overlapping of institutional power structures such as race, class, gender, and ethnicity. Moreover, there is a call to examine the interconnections for explaining violence through concerns of economic and social inequality and deprivation, and in terms of identity and cultural factors (Collins, 1998; Sen, 2008). This article examines how patriarchy operates in a specific cultural setting in the Eastern Cape in South Africa. In doing so, I hope to respond to the call for indigenously developed, locally rooted research and theory in the field of domestic violence (see Budlender & Bennett, 2004; Serumaga, 2005).
More recently, Chaudhuri, Morash, and Yingling (2014) drew on the patriarchal bargain framework to analyze experiences of marital violence among South Asian immigrants in their sample. Adding the patriarchal bargaining framework to the context of gender and ethnicity revealed how gendered norms and expectations for women shape their choices and strategies to deal with and break from abuse. This article extends the patriarchal bargain framework by examining customary wives’ strategies in balancing patriarchal family arrangements and culture within a legal pluralist state, where customary wives have different dispute resolution forum options. How do Black South African women, who have been historically positioned “outside the law,” 3 use traditional and statutory laws to achieve their goals in the face of marital violence? What role does the husband and the husband’s mother play in supporting customary wives who experience marital violence? How do customary arrangements for resolving disputes shape women’s experience and understanding of abuse?
The Changing Patriarchal Bargain
The theoretical construct of patriarchal bargains developed by Kandiyoti (1988) influences both “the potential for and specific forms of women’s active or passive resistance in the face of oppression” (Kandiyoti, 1988, p. 283). Kandiyoti presented two very different systems of male dominance and women’s resistance in contrasting class, caste, and ethnic contexts. She argued that the insecurities of African kinship systems for women in sub-Saharan Africa inform women’s marital and marketplace strategies, which are characterized as active forms of resistance. She contrasts these experiences with women’s accommodations to “classic patriarchy,” a system based on patrilineal, patrilocal relations of the extended household. Kandiyoti (1988) argues that women’s compliance may be forced when there are no other alternatives. Women’s “alternatives” have changed rapidly over time. One major reform and change in postapartheid South African women’s lives is their involvement in and access to a legal pluralist state. But before I unpack the contemporary South African context, most scholars agree that attempts to control the behavior of women in contemporary society are not without historical precursors (Mohanty, Russo, & Torres, 1991); they are inextricably bound to colonial rule. Reviewing how wives’ experiences of violence and patriarchy in the family and state were mediated through structural forms of oppression such as apartheid and colonialism, and in particular how they had limited legal protection, situates customary wives’ personal experiences of marital violence within a sociohistorical context.
Many scholars have attempted to understand contemporary gender-based violence by focusing on the ways in which it is connected to colonial and apartheid violence in South Africa (Carton, 2000; Mager, 1996; Moffett, 2006; Ramphele, 1993) and sub-Saharan Africa (Green, 1999; Mama, 1997; Schmidt, 1991). Scholars have mapped out how colonial rule eroded the sociopolitical and economic power of women in different parts of the continent furthering their dependence on males (Amadiume, 1987; Oyewùmí, 1997). Ramphele (1989) stated that African women pass through the control of different men throughout their lifetime. It is a control that stretches from the cradle to the grave. This system, which has been further reinforced by the legal provisions of successive white governments, confers the status of perpetual minor upon African women. (p. 400)
As Ramphele highlighted, the colonial state required support from African men to exercise control over African women and customary wives in particular (Carton, 2000; Schmidt, 1991). Through a desire to control African women, the colonial state created a range of systems to bolster the control of African women, which had significant impact on gender, and generational relations, including the restriction of movement, regulation of marriage, and the introduction of missionary education. These were just some of the ways in which the colonial rulers used their power to bolster some support with African males and legitimate the perpetuation of certain behavioral patterns favorable to men. The colonial period reinforced the authority of African elders and men through the prioritization of marriage. Customary wives were brought under the control of their husbands as their very existence to be somewhere or live somewhere, to access a job or house, was dependent on their marital relationship (Lee, 2009; Posel, 1995; Ramphele, 1989). Women were severely compromised in making choices about their marriage due to their dependence on it for their livelihood. Lee (2009) explained how “preserving their ability to live and work in the urban area sometimes involved an assessment of the lesser of two evils, endure the burden of a difficult or violent marriage rather than constrain their livelihoods” (p. 51). Furthermore, Eales (1989) mapped out how the restriction of mobility through the curfew system could benefit “sectional interests,” such as those of husbands anxious to bolster a crumbling control over their wives. In addition, Posel (1995) argued that the long-standing failure of the state to intervene in registering or regulating customary marriages was a deliberate abuse as it was a way of granting African elders full control over their women and respecting their traditional powers as chiefs and headmen, as a way of securing their trust and cooperation to keep their daughters in line.
In the earlier colonial period, the system of law acted as a way in which authority over Black African women was established and practiced. Customary laws were invented, and gender relations were distorted by the native commissioners. 4 Women were considered legal minors and could only be represented in court by a male member of the family. Interestingly, the introduction of divorce, through the colonial courts, is argued to have strengthened the power and authority of African men, both as husbands and as fathers. Schmidt (1991) argued that prior to the colonial period, if a husband had been brutal, a woman’s family was unlikely to force her to return, relying instead on time to heal the wounds and resolve the conflict. According to Carton (2000), once divorce was prescribed and the return of bridewealth as a remedy for women’s desertion or adultery was introduced, families began pressuring their daughters to remain in potentially life-threatening situations. Moreover, Carton (2000) mapped out how up until the 1890s many courts refused to grant decrees of divorce. Through the illustration of one specific case in the Native Commissioner Court of a central Natal district (Ngubane v. Langa, Case 23/1941), Carton (2000) described the relations of authority under which women were controlled, including husbands as physical abusers, fathers by not always providing support and protection for their daughters who were in abusive marriages, the “official witnesses and police” for failure to believe the allegations of marital abuse, and the colonial courts for not recognizing or punishing abuse and awarding in the husband’s favor. Schmidt (1991) also outlined how, in Southern Rhodesia, through the rigid application of the father-right principle, native commissioners’ courts frequently coerced women into remaining with abusive or disinterested husbands, under threat of losing their children. Such judgments, the state maintained, instilled in women obedience to and respect for their husbands’ authority (Schmidt, 1991).
Power relations between customary wives, husbands, and elders are fuelled by conflicted interests and levels of dependency which have changed over time. The colonial state played a key role in influencing such relations and dependency. Taking a longer historical view, and the degree of domination imposed on customary wives, one sees that the luxury of safe, open opposition and resistance was impossible as subjects. While in the past the colonial state colluded with African elders to bolster control over women, in recent years the state has influenced these relations through women’s increasing (political) autonomy and the circulation of new rights discourses (Sideris, 2004).
Changing South African Context
The narratives of the women who experience marital violence are situated in a wider social, economic, and political context. Following the colonial and apartheid era, scholars argue that social and political changes in postapartheid South Africa have sharpened the tensions that characterize gender relations and gender politics (Du Toit, 2014; Posel, 2005; Sideris, 2004). A recurring quandary examines how South Africa, in being a progressive state committed to poverty alleviation and gender equality, continues to have very high levels of poverty and gender inequality, including intimate partner violence (Vetten, 2014). Sideris (2004) outlined how “women’s equal right to the entitlements of citizenship, legislation that defends the integrity of women, and the human rights discourse pose challenges to the legitimacy of men’s privileged status over women” (p. 34). In the current economic climate, the social power that men used to command, as breadwinners, has been undermined by high levels of unemployment (Hunter, 2010; Mosoetsa, 2012) and widespread receipt of social grants, mainly received by women, which are believed to be disrupting social reproduction and fracturing households (Dubbeld, 2013). In this context, some scholars argue that men’s control over women in private relations is the last site of power for men (Bhana, de Lange, & Mitchell, 2009; Boonzaier, 2005; Mosoetsa, 2012). In this changing socioeconomic context, scholars highlight how popular ideas about gender, specifically the views that associate manhood with domination over women in the family, permit the use of violence to maintain male authority (Abrahams, Jewkes, & Laubscher, 1999; Bhana et al., 2009; Boonzaier & de La Rey, 2003).
Black South Africans continue to experience widespread economic challenges. It is estimated that approximately 30.4 million South Africans live in poverty when applying the upper-bound poverty line of R992 (approx. GBP 61) per person per month (in 2015 prices). This means that more than one out of every two South Africans was considered poor in 2015 (Statistics South Africa, 2017). Poverty remains a gendered phenomenon, and the extent and depth of poverty are considerably higher for females and for female-headed households. Posel and Rogan (2009) demonstrate how the receipt of social grant income may have been relatively more effective in reducing particularly the depth of poverty for females and female-headed households.
The 1996 Constitution gave legal force to “state” 5 and customary law, making South Africa a legal pluralist state. A legal pluralist state means that there are two or more legal orders operating within the state. South Africa has a pluralist system of dispute resolution forums, and customary marriage spouses are able to approach customary (wider kin and traditional leaders) and state dispute resolution forums for assistance with marital violence. Among the advantages of having parallel legal systems is greater choice for vulnerable family members to have multiple dispute resolution forums from which support could be sought in the event of conflict. Hypothetically speaking, the system of dispute resolution forums can be navigated to ensure equitable outcomes in disputes; when one forum fails to provide equitable outcomes, another forum could (hypothetically) be approached, thereby reducing the risk of such disputes having prejudicial outcomes for vulnerable individuals. In practice, it seems that both systems are falling short of protecting women.
At the state level, the evidence continues to show us that despite the introduction of many obligations on the police to compel their response (Section 2 of the Domestic Violence Act), the police continue to have a lackluster record of intervening in domestic violence. Vetten (2014) highlighted that following the introduction of explicit prescripts of how to respond to domestic violence, half of all complaints made to Independent Complaints Directorate centered on the failure of the police to arrest the abuser; complaints included the failure to open criminal cases and the failure to assist victims of domestic violence to find suitable shelter and obtain medical treatment. Fewer than half of those who turn to the courts are ultimately afforded their protection.
Less is known about what happens within the customary legal system (Curran & Bonthuys, 2005). Bassadien and Hochfeld (2005) argue that in many communities in South Africa, domestic violence disputes have to be dealt with by the elders of the community or traditional authorities, an indigenous legal system where punishment is meted out for what is considered “unacceptable behavior” in that community. The customary dispute resolution forum can also include a family meeting, and it has been found to be the first avenue people utilize when seeking assistance with marital disputes (Button, Moore, & Himonga, 2016; Green, 1999; Griffiths, 1997; Higgins, Fenrich, & Tanzer, 2006; Himonga & Moore, 2015; van der Waal, 2004). Most evidence points to the ways in which elders minimize abuse or collude with the abuser, but the conditions and terms of such collusion or rejection are less well understood. There is very little known about how family meetings are experienced. More than three decades ago, Seymour, Bekker, and Coertze (1982) explained that the object of calling a meeting is bound up with the idea of collective rights and responsibility that exist in customary law. They further wrote that custom safeguards and strengthens the customary law of persons by providing that, whenever an act is to be done which alters the status of a person, the family head concerned should call a meeting of his relatives and do the act in their presence. (p. 94)
Relatives of both family heads are invited to participate in the meeting, which is held at the family home of one of them. Women also attend the meetings. Although there is substantial evidence indicating that family meetings (and indigenous dispute resolution forums) play a role in maintaining domestic violence, there is less evidence with respect to how this happens and how women respond to this. In the past, a customary wife had no legal status and was under the guardianship of her husband. Postapartheid customary marriages were legally recognized more fully with the introduction of the Recognition of Customary Marriages Act 1998, as previously they were only partially recognized according to South African general law. Women in contemporary South Africa are navigating a new political, socioeconomic terrain as they make claims on the state and on their own historical practices. Despite the widespread distribution of social welfare grants (Seekings & Moore, 2014), new social rights, and the recognition of indigenous customs and practices, customary wives continue to be a highly vulnerable group. It is important to note that not all Black South African women experiencing domestic violence are married; in fact, a significant number are in cohabitation relationships inadequately covered by marriage laws. 6 Moreover, not all Black South African women are married in terms of customary law. 7
Method
The research outlined in this article is part of a broader investigation into customary marriage and divorce in South Africa. During the larger research project (Himonga & Moore, 2015), family meetings were identified as the normative dispute resolution forum for settling marital disputes (see Button et al., 2016) but were often unable to find an agreeable resolution (Moore, 2015a). Given the fact that the larger study was focused on divorce, I was unable to say much about how family meetings assisted married spouses with a dispute. Therefore, the voices of spouses who participated in a family meeting and remained in the marriage needed to be explored. This article is based on a follow-up study which focused specifically on marital disputes and family meetings.
The study was conducted in urban and rural communities within the Eastern Cape Province, South Africa, specifically Stutterheim and East London. Stutterheim is a small town with a population of 46,730. East London has a population of about 267,000 of whom 70% are Black Africans with 69% speaking isiXhosa as their primary language. In-depth interviews with 30 participants (15 family dyads) were conducted in 2014 and 2015. All interviews were conducted in the home language of the participant (isiXhosa) and took place in a location of the participant’s choice. The interviews with wives, husbands, or extended family members took place separately, on separate occasions. A fieldworker undertook the interviews and the transcription of the interviews. In the process of back-and-forth translation and transcription, the fieldworker and the author discussed issues around translation, especially relating to the importance of translating questions and responses as close to their original meaning as possible.
Family members were interviewed separately. This approach recognizes the importance of the unique experiences of the individuals within families, “rather than treating them as a homogenous whole with one world view and one shared set of experiences” (Smart, 2007, p. 42). Gabb (2008) has argued that individual interviews “produce different layers of data” than interviews with multiple family members or focus groups, and that “interviews with couples or multiple family members tend to produce consensual accounts, whereas individual interviews tend to produce data revealing the gendered/generationalised experience of family processes” (p. 27). In general, the collection of related stories raised ethical concerns over disclosure, divergences, confidentiality, and the degree to which anonymity could be assured. Each interview was treated as a new and separate interaction; as such, data gained from previous interviews were not used to structure questions.
I have outlined elsewhere the challenges involved in doing research on personal relationships in Xhosa families (Moore, 2015b). This study was no different, and many challenges were encountered in trying to recruit participants. Various methods were adopted to gain access to participants, including recruiting through a community health organization and sampling through social networks. The author wanted to hear from at least two members of the wider family who participated in the family meeting. Specifically, the author wanted to hear from wives and another related person. Although I was hoping to hear men’s voices, this was not possible in all cases as husbands or male elders were often away or unwilling to participate, in which case the husband’s mother played a key role in the meeting and was included in the study.
The sample included 15 wives, six husbands, four paternal grandmothers, and five maternal kin members (including social mothers, aunts, cousins, and a sister) from 15 family sets, with ages ranging from 35-65, although wives and husbands were in their 30s and 40s. The people who participated in the family meeting had been involved in the lobolo 8 (bridewealth) negotiations, too. The majority of marriages had lasted more than 10 years; there was only one marriage of short duration, which was 3 years. In the majority of cases, the couples had set up separate households, although three couples had adult kin members living with them. The participants in the study as a whole were from low socioeconomic backgrounds as defined by education and employment status. Elsewhere, I have outlined the socioeconomic status of men and women in customary marriages in South Africa (Moore, 2015a). The sample of participants was similar in this regard, and the majority of participants did not complete secondary school, were unemployed, or were involved in low-skilled, low-paid, precarious work. Only three of the wives were involved in part-time, low-paid employment, while only five of the husbands were economically active. All the participants relied (partially or fully) on state grants and/or financial support from family members.
I used narrative methods to analyze how women experienced family meetings following marital discord. I approached the analysis in phases. I began by reading the stories and extracting the essential content of each story to comprehend the individuals’ and families’ experiences of family meetings and marital violence. In the second phase, I analyzed the narratives systematically, using set questions such as the following: “What actions and routines do the wives describe? What is the wives’ role in these actions and what is the role of the husband/mother-in-law and so forth?” I paid attention to the narrative structure of the stories and to the thematic connections between them, and to the convergence and divergences among the narratives. Commonalities across the families were identified in a thematic manner and related to wider information gathered in relation to the social, economic, and legal context.
As with all research, the study suffered from a number of limitations, which readers should bear in mind while considering the findings. The vast majority of the sample was female, and it is, therefore, difficult to discuss divergences between their experiences and the experiences of men (as husbands, brothers, or fathers). The fact that husbands were not interviewed in all cases meant that women might have felt safer and less restricted in their responses. Yet, a larger sample of men would have given a better understanding of the diversity of men’s experiences. However, the ability to interview two members of the wider kin group provides a deeper understanding of the process women undertake when seeking help with marital violence. The locations chosen are not representative of the total population as the author recognizes the limitations of referring to customary practices beyond the communities that were involved in the study. Therefore, further research is necessary to acquire understanding of regional, ethnic, and urban/rural differences. Finally, the author believes that it is important to examine the long-term implications of family meetings on future acts of violence. Does the family meeting in the aftermath of marital abuse support customary wives, and are wives who participated in family meetings more likely to live free from marital abuse? In light of the significant consequences for women who experience marital abuse and live according to customary law, the importance of these questions cannot be overstated.
Findings
I will present three cases that speak to the ways in which women come to understand meanings of abuse at the time of a marital dispute and family meeting. These cases depict the common patterns that were identified across the 15 family dyads. I create “case narratives,” plotting the development of the matter and analyzing the process of seeking help with a marital dispute by focusing on the issues that are raised in the family meeting. Moreover, I organize the data around three main themes: reporting abuse, defining abuse, and contesting abuse. The details of the participants have been anonymized and minor details have been changed where relevant. The names of men and women are pseudonyms.
Reporting Abuse and Threatening Patriarchy
In the literature, the practice of being criticized for taking a matter of domestic violence to the police or courts is a common finding. The findings in this study, based on dyadic accounts of the experience, show a different and more nuanced picture. The case of Meko and Sandiswa will be used to highlight how reporting the abuser is an act that threatens the authority of the abuser. Withdrawing a charge at a later point can be seen as a way of maintaining family relations after the threat to their authority has been experienced. Family relations need to be restored to ensure loyalty to a family and husband who has financially supported the customary wife and wider family for several years.
Meko and Sandiswa, both in their late 40s, have been married for more than 15 years. They live together with one of Sandiswa’s children who is about 20 years old. Meko, the husband, has two other children. The problem affecting their marriage is that Meko is violent and very controlling of his wife every time he gets drunk. Sandiswa explains how she has dealt with violent outbursts over the last 2 years. Initially, Sandiswa sought help at the police station and then the magistrate: “One time he became violent with me and I took him to court and he almost got arrested.” Sandiswa broke with patriarchal arrangements by seeking help from the state legal system. Unlike other studies that indicate that women seek help when personal strategies failed (Chaudhuri et al., 2014), Sandiswa sought help immediately. But Sandiswa later dropped the charges after her husband’s sister intervened and pleaded with her to do so. However, the refusal to pursue a legal case against a customary husband can also be read as a way of demonstrating your rejection of male authority within the marriage. The wife demonstrated her power by turning to the police and courts and undermining the authority of her husband; it is in this context that the wife ends up discussing the merits of involving the police. The husband’s sister called a family meeting following this threat of public sanction.
During the family meeting, Sandiswa accepted that her husband will be worse off if he ends up in jail, particularly as he suffers from diabetes and she is responsible for taking care of him. Although one could argue that women are spoken about and are defined primarily in terms of their relationship to others, most notably their husbands, it is as wives or mothers, or daughters, that they are addressed; the most striking feature of the meetings is the orientation of women’s interests as lying in their support of their families in terms of maintaining the marriage as a secure base from which they can nurture the men. Similar to findings in other studies (Abraham, 2002; Bassadien & Hochfeld, 2005; Derne, 1994; Mogstad et al., 2016), Sandiswa and the other wives in this study described how they should be self-sacrificing wives and they are responsible for making a marriage work. However, Sandiswa’s choice can also be interpreted as a form of security. Her approach to solving her marital dispute can be interpreted as a legitimate strategy to protect oneself from a variety of economic and social costs, including stigma, humiliation, and shame, which go with not only reporting abuse, but also making a public statement that she does not tolerate abuse in her marriage.
The interview with the husband gives us more insight into other contextual issues. He describes the family meeting as a democratic space where “everyone had a chance to raise an opinion or have a say.” In the same breath, he opens up and explains how he needs “serious help” and how he is “tired of being this person that I am [heavy drinking] and at work too, I am not working well, I really need help.” The husband explains the financial pressures he experiences in being the provider for wider family members, as one of the only persons in his wider family who is engaged in paid work. He details the level of interdependency in a wider context of poverty: We support each other through our work and other ways that we manage to help here and there, and I am the one who is working so sometimes I provide things for the family and other people in my family. And one time there was going to be a funeral and I had to provide everything for my mother’s funeral, since I am the only one who is working. But my aunt also tries to provide and my wife too. My wife receives child grant money, but she doesn’t have anything else but me as her own source of income.
The interview with the husband illustrates his vulnerability, both financially and personally. Wood and Jewkes (2001) argued that misogyny is linked to male vulnerability, which is heightened in the context of limited resources and within a wider system of domination among working-class Black South Africans. Meko’s response to the meeting and marital discord not only how he is troubled by the incident but also that he too needs support from his family to restore his well-being. As argued by Wood and Jewkes (2001), it can be weakness as much as the need to wield power that triggers violence against women.
Defining Abuse and Challenging Patriarchy
The following case involves a wife, Thando, and the husband’s mother, Ngweru. As I outlined elsewhere, customary wives’ relationships with other female kin members can highlight inequalities in their social position (Moore, 2015a). The case of Thando and Ngweru is a case where generational and gender differences in “acceptable marital conduct” and parental responsibility are contested. In this case, the couple has been married for 15 years and there are three children in the marriage. The husband, Thulani, is a farmworker. Thando explained how Thulani regularly “beats her and throws her and the children out of the house.” She explained how the day she called a meeting he had “hit me on my head and really injured me.” Thando lives close to Ngweru and she reports everything to her. Like the first case, Thando first laid a charge at the police station but she did not follow through with this: “the family suggested that I must not go to the police rather we discuss the problem as a family.” Thando described how she had gained the upper hand as she challenged their authority and rejected the abuse.
Ngweru also explained how she played a key role in stopping Thando from calling the police, as she stated, She was swollen, and I begged her not to go to the police and I asked her that we discuss this as a family and finish with it. All I said to them is when you have a fight there should be no police involvement, you should solve your problem without involving people from outside.
On one hand, we see that Thando had gained much control over the situation as the husband’s mother had to “beg” Thando to not call the police. On the other hand, the husband’s mother’s advice removes a certain degree of autonomy and power from Thando as she explicitly states that Thando should not draw on support from the state.
Although it may appear as if Thando complies with the husband’s mother’s wishes, Thando does not accept the will of her husband’s mother as legitimate or right, as she reveals to us a further hidden decision, whereby she used the occasion as a turning point in how she has positioned herself in the marriage; she stated, “Although I decided not to leave him on that occasion I made a decision to myself that I will leave anytime he leaves a hand on me again.” She described how she had gained the upper hand as she challenged their authority and did not consider her decision to be a sign of compliance or deference.
During the meeting, the form of violence was discussed, and we hear from the husband’s mother how she reflected on “marital abuse”: I called them during the meeting and said to the husband “never beat your wife” and to your wife if your husband is asking you to do something do it . . . you must respect your husband and to the husband, I said do not quickly lift up your hand.
Through the elaboration, we see there are conditions on “lifting a hand to a wife.” Although it appears that physical abuse is not tolerated, the second clause appears to set out the conditions when forms of physical abuse might be more acceptable. The research found that senior women, as those who often mediated a family meeting, expressed ways of talking about abuse which suggested an acceptance of forms of violence: “The matter was resolved as the husband couldn’t come up with a reason of why he beat up this child like this.” These narratives suggest that there are moments when abuse may be “acceptable,” especially when a wife has disrespected her husband. Such evidence can be found in other writings, and Sideris (2004) provides an example of the ways in which a local headman deals with conflicts that arise when women transgress their expected submission: The community does not accept the violence. What is acceptable is that a woman must submit. Nowadays there are laws. Before there were indunas
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and they put him at the ibandla (court). If he is wrong, they penalise him. You cannot beat your wife for anything. After you have undergone certain stages of disciplining and they don’t work, then you can beat her. (p. 38)
Several scholars outline how relations between genders and generations are characterized by deference and respect (Carton, 2000; Carton & Morrell, 2012; Mager 1996). Mager (1996) outlined how uklonipha was a system of language and behavior avoidance forbidding a married woman from uttering certain syllables pertaining to her father-in-law’s name and from entering designated spaces—this occupied a powerful space in power relations within marriage. Thus, the restraint inscribed in the practice of intlonipho may be seen as one means of developing female forbearance, necessary for a wife’s subordination to her husband and mother-in-law. Intlonipho was, thus, a means of regulating the interface between male domination and female subordination. What essentially is regarded as “disrespectful” behavior or “disciplining” is not well researched or understood, particularly in the contemporary context. But Thando’s actions of a public challenge of acceptable marital conduct pose a threat to the legitimacy of the husband or elders’ definition of marital behavior. The open and public refusal to comply with such ways of interacting demonstrates a breaking of a silence of deference and respect in the public transcript.
Thando and her husband had been fighting about the parenting of their children. According to Thando, her husband blames her for the children’s misbehavior: Even when we have arguments like when he is drunk, it makes life difficult for everyone at home and blaming me when a child does something. My children also know, and I always tell them when they do something that they must remember they were causing trouble for me as their dad would point the finger on me and I would always wonder who he thinks he is to these children.
The family meeting gave Thando a chance to tackle parenting issues. The family meeting provided the only opportunity for Thando to express how she felt about parenting alone and how she felt about being blamed for “bad” parenting: “I was also given a platform to speak at the meeting. I used this platform to vent about anything which had bothered me throughout the marriage. I told him I don’t want to be the only parent.” The family meeting was centered around the physical abuse, but Thando also used the family meeting as a way of contesting what was “acceptable” behavior in the context of marital relations. Thando got an opportunity to have her voice heard and to “vent” about these issues, which she regarded as key issues of control. Thando’s use of publicly questioning male violence and fathering is testimony to how she is exercising power that defines cultural prescriptions of patriarchal norms within families.
Contesting Abuse While Recognizing Patriarchy
The case of Thembi and Lutho highlight the ways in which customary wives may come to understand woman abuse by their spouses as part of wider systems of racialized and economic oppression. Thembi and Lutho have been married for 10 years. Thembi’s family has never approved of Lutho. Thembi is a matriculant and Lutho is not. He had to leave school when he was 15 years old as the family required support following the death of his father and, as the eldest child, he went out to find work. He now moves between piece jobs: We depend on piece jobs when I get one and the child support grants for the children. I work part time at a wood factory. My wife is also still looking for a job. I must say her family is very supportive. They assist when we have a financial problem.
They also receive money for groceries from Lutho’s mother, who is a pensioner. The couple’s marital disputes center around money and the spending of grant money. Thembi explained that “if he has money he will spend all the money on booze.” This is a regular source of conflict; however, on one occasion, Thembi refused to “give him the grant money, he got violent and I was forced to go ask for help.” Challenging a husband’s fiscal control is a good example of resistance within the patriarchal family (Abraham, 2002). Similarly, in this research, women were contesting how men were spending money given the limited resources, and men were trying to hold on to notions of successful masculinity to be in control of income, even when they were not economic providers, which was often the case. Many men described feeling powerless in this economic context, and feelings of powerlessness may have resulted in justifications of violence.
In response to the violent incident, Thembi arranged a family meeting secretly. Whereas in the past she would return to her family after a period of violence, this time she did not and Lutho just received a call to attend the meeting. Lutho, who was unexpectedly called to the meeting, was caught off guard and described it as follows: It was embarrassing . . . it was difficult as he knew the sisters didn’t like me. I was not aware my wife had reported me to her family since she did not go to her family that time as she used to do before that incident.
The calling of the meeting, particularly in the way in which it was arranged, boosted Thembi’s marital power. Thembi belittled and embarrassed her husband in front of the parents “he respected.” Humiliating her husband in front of his family and her family was a practice that challenged his authority. During the meeting, both spouses explained what happened and Thembi was urged by her family to leave him. However, Thembi rejected this position and was keen to remain in the marriage as she stated, My sister wanted me to leave him but I made it clear to my mother and sister that I am not going to leave him . . . and my mother-in-law explained to them that she is here to support me.
Returning to the marriage, contrary to her mother’s advice, was her choice and was undertaken in a context of options. Thembi, who accepted her husband’s apology, also had the social support of her husband’s mother and the financial support of the child grant. The public act of defying her natal mother’s advice might even support her position within her husband’s family.
Lutho explained the impact the meeting had on his sense of self and his behavior: “I am aware when I am drunk I wouldn’t like to be in the same meeting.” Since the meeting, the husband has changed and “he started to bring money home from work.” Thembi noted that “he did want to fight the other day but ended up not beating me when I mentioned that I would report to his family.”
Thembi has demonstrated her power through the resistance of coercion and control through rejecting abuse, calling a meeting, and challenging “acceptable forms of marital behavior.” She may also have brought about some degree of compliance with regard to what are considered legitimate forms of behavior between spouses, as a follow-up interview 6 months later indicated that such abuse had stopped. Although she has challenged the husband’s authority in front of her parents and sisters (who he respects), she accepts the decision of the husband’s mother, following an apology from the husband. In this example, relations of patriarchy have been seriously threatened, as Thembi has challenged the legitimacy of her husband and husband’s family’s authority by bringing it to the attention of her natal kin when it is known that her kin do not approve of the marriage. Although the authority remains in the hands of the patrilineal family, their power is severely limited and is dependent on the support of the customary wife.
Conclusion
In this article, I examined how customary wives, who experience marital violence, find their voice and power despite the structural and social challenges they experience. The women at the center of the research, who ended up in abusive relationships, had social pressure on them to not report the abuse to the police or lay a charge. To report the violence was to end the solidarity between the families and to send a husband to prison. For others, reporting to the police was also tied up with losing important economic and social relations with paternal family members. This is not to say, however, that the women did not use strategies of resistance against their abusers. The strategies include using statutory legislation (and the threat of the state) as a way of drawing attention to the severity of the complaint. Moreover, many women called family meetings to shame their husbands in front of the two families. These strategies are determined not only by the resources that the women have but also by their limitations. Although limited access to economic resources was significant, the ways in which women would be left socially isolated if they reported the abuse were also significant. The threat of public intervention was a significant sign of resistance which challenged the normative order that assumes that violence remains a private affair to be resolved by the families only. They, therefore, strategically navigated within the cultural and structural constraints while drawing on new forms of support (such as the state and statutory legislation).
Kandiyoti (1988) stated that the “patriarchal bargain is intended to indicate the existence of set rules and scripts regulating gender relations, to which both genders accommodate and acquiesce, yet which may nonetheless be contested, redefined, and renegotiated” (p. 286). In this article, we see that gender alone is not sufficient to explain the ways in which power dynamics unfold in particular contexts. The findings in this study demonstrate that factors of age, kinship ties, and access to multiple legal systems are central for understanding women’s resistance to marital abuse in customary law settings. I have indicated how the sample of customary wives resists marital violence and contests the ways in which family members deal with it. Customary wives negotiate the terms of the family meeting with their husbands, the husband’s family, and sometimes with their own natal kin. In this particular context, we see that the patriarchal bargain is susceptible to the change in access to legal systems in specific ways. There is evidence that women reclaim the discourses of custom, and point out and criticize the gendered inequalities experienced in relation to levels of marital violence. In this way, customary rules are being reformulated to take account of younger women’s interest. Women are also using customary institutions, such as family meetings, to enforce their customary right to equality, in ways that have been strengthened by state law, without drawing on state law.
These meetings are used to challenge the wife’s private experience of violence and gender inequality more broadly. The threat of public scrutiny and intervention gives a wife the upper hand and creates the space to be heard. The patriarchal relations within the spousal relationship and the extended familial relationship are being challenged by the customary wife at these meetings, but this does not mean that these meetings are free from patriarchy. As Kandiyoti argued, there is patriarchal bargaining taking place within this experience and meeting. Equally, customary wives’ experiences and use of the police and courts, just as Makofane and Du Preez (2000) have highlighted, are not without serious patriarchal constraints. As we see from the literature (Artz, 2008; Vetten, 2014), in most cases, reporting assault does not end up in prosecutions. 10 The evidence that the justice system is failing women does not show how women are using the formal system in specific ways. It may be necessary to reconsider how women are drawing on the two legal systems simultaneously. The low number of convictions and charges can be partially explained by the ways in which women draw on the different legal systems to maximize their interests. Research evidence that relies on administrative records fails to see the ways in which women can draw “usefully” upon the state system, albeit in ways that do not result in prosecutions. If women continue to use the customary law system for dealing with such disputes, it may be necessary for service providers and support to reach the local level. The research has uncovered the pivotal role family meetings play in creating a forum for (mainly) wives to discuss marital violence. This meeting can provide a space for consciousness raising for customary wives who may not or cannot access state systems. It should be remembered that not too long ago, marital violence was considered acceptable and a private matter for all South Africans, and it is only relatively recently that it has become unacceptable and public. Despite all the public attention that has taken place in recent years, the process of changing attitudes and practices is not quick or straightforward. This article suggests that family meetings appear to be a potential space for changing attitudes about marital violence. The wives in this study make marital violence visible, and they are defining it as a significant issue and demanding that those in positions of power within the wider family impose consequences on family members. In threatening the use of the state and public interventions, they are making the issue public, even when they resort to more private ways of mediating the dispute. Therefore, family meetings and their role in dealing with cases of marital violence should be recognized, and it would be useful to build on this. How this happens needs further research. Although I recognize the need for women to access the state system in relation to marital violence, it is unlikely that this system will cater to the needs of all customary wives, particularly in the coming years. Currently, there are two systems operating which are uncoordinated and unrecognized by the state. The state may be overlooking local services and community-based solutions that would otherwise assist customary wives and women in rural areas. The power of the Domestic Violence Act and the implementation of the law may be enhanced by other local modes of access.
Women are not homogeneous and the patriarchal relations between wives and husbands and husbands’ families are relational. In some cases, where women had the support of their own natal kin or where they were income earners, they may have been better positioned to negotiate the new patriarchal order. Many of the patterns of patriarchal bargaining identified in this article highlight the historical imprint of the legal and personal subordination that reinforces hierarchical relations in Black South African families. Wives are contesting where the boundaries of public and private are found in family life, and this distinction is located in a longer history of how Black South African men and women have been treated by the law and police. By drawing on the state system, customary wives are inviting public scrutiny and intervention into their private family life and demanding the space to gather to discuss and raise awareness of the patterns of gendered and generational power in their lives. The current legal pluralist system operates as an opportunity and a limitation in many ways. Women have to navigate patriarchal relations within both systems where they experience disadvantage, but women are using the system to achieve their goals in challenging abuse. Unable or unwilling to fall back on the state system and with few resources to help them to build new lives, they remain in the marriage.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: This research is based on the research supported in part by the National Research Foundation (NRF) of South Africa (Grant Number: 64825). Opinions, findings, and conclusions expressed in the article are that of the author alone, and that the NRF accepts no liability in this regard.