What is feminist anti-rape activism?

In thinking through Cahill’s piece, “In Defense of Self-Defense”, two main ideas stick with me. Firstly, I can’t seem to be able to get over the fact that she talks about contributing to feminist anti-rape activism without actually seemingly doing so at all. Secondly, she discusses feminist self-defense classes as being different from regular self-defense classes.Through my reading I tried, as always, to be generous, and to open my mind to a different perspective. In doing so, I can acknowledge that although I do not agree with Cahill’s general argument, I can appreciate the perspective that her ideas come from; she is suggesting, I think, that rape culture shapes how women behave and feel, and that in order to combat it we must attempt to curb the effect it is having us. This topic is of great concern for Cahill, and according to her, the only way to curb rape culture’s effects is to take self-defense classes. I can somewhat get behind this approach. However, I feel that it must be acknowledged that this approach is doing very little for feminist anti-rape activism, unlike Cahill is suggesting.

To expand on this, Cahill asserts that “self-defense courses should remain a crucial element in feminist anti-rape activism” (363). However, she also states as a qualifying factor, that “self-defense classes can serve to mitigate the effects of a [rape] culture” (366). Regardless of the merits of her argument here, it seems to me that her foundation of what she is arguing for is fractured; attempting to mitigate the effects of rape culture is not the same thing as working for anti-rape activism. That an idea has been labelled as an ‘activism’ suggests that its purpose is movement, progress, and change. To work with after-effects suggests taking care of symptoms instead of demanding change that would result in those after-effects’ demolition. Two immensely and powerfully different ideas.

Next, Cahill asserts makes the distinction between self-defense courses and feminist self-defense courses, stating that feminist self-defense courses are “courses that are grounded in a political understanding of sexual violence and its relationship to other social and political phenomena” (367). Although I can appreciate the attraction of a self-defense course of this description, I want to know the ways in which the self-defense moves taught in this class are different from those taught in a regular self-defense class. Does having a different philosophy behind each movement make the movement different than it is without that philosophy? Does it matter what kind of philosophy a self-defense class holds if in the end the message being sent home with its learners is the same: You need to defend yourself against rape?

I want to give Cahill the benefit of the doubt in this argument, I do. Maybe I don’t understand enough about this stuff to grasp what she’s trying to tell me. All I do know for sure is that her argument feels misguided, and therefore holds little merit with me.