Stellenbosch University
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Prof Louise du Toit cultivates critical thinking about gender justice
Author: Corporate Communications and Marketing
Published: 13/08/2024

In celebration of Women's Month, Stellenbosch University is shining a spotlight on extraordinary staff and students on our campus who champion women's rights and gender equality. Through their dedication and leadership, they inspire and drive positive change. Prof Louise du Toit, Professor of Philosophy at SU, specialises in feminist philosophy and teaches extensively on gender equity and sexual violence to equip students to join the struggle for gender justice.

What inspired you to pursue a career in philosophy, particularly focusing on feminist philosophy and sexual violence?

The love of philosophy came naturally for me. I grew up in a home where everything under the sun was debated during Sunday lunches. I was still at school when my older brother Fanie took me along to one of his philosophy classes, and I was immediately intrigued. In those days, there were two philosophy departments! And so, during undergraduate I took all the philosophy modules I could, as supplements to my degree programme.

The way the discipline trained me to orient my mind and clarify my thinking, while also encouraging fresh and even transgressive ideas, also across disciplines, was enormously exciting. The first feminist philosophy module I “took" is one I taught as a substitute lecturer, after third-year students had signed a petition demanding it. It was a serendipitous discovery, because at the time, I also fell pregnant with my first child, and now for the first time I encountered philosophical texts speaking about womanhood and motherhood!

The choice to write my doctoral thesis on sexual violence was in response to the rape of Baby Tshepang in 2001. Lying awake at night, I wondered whether philosophy's sophisticated toolbox could make sense out of something so apparently senseless and cruel.  

I later became involved in the Hamburg-based international research group, Sexual Violence in Armed Conflict, that explores war rape in different contexts and from a variety of disciplines. There again, I could see the great impact that a philosophical contribution can make, in conversation with historians, psychologists, legal scholars and activists, literary scholars, artists and others.

How do you bridge European and African traditions in your feminist philosophy work?

Maybe 'bridge' is not the right word. I read both African and European feminist authors and then they hang out together in my mind, and naturally start talking to one another. And the conversations that I eavesdrop on are riveting! And so, I write about it.

Sometimes we overcomplicate things when we think in terms of abstractions like 'European' and 'African'. Of course, there is a complex and oppressive history (even an epistemicide) to firmly keep in mind, but at the same time, most Africans already combine a certain 'Europeanness' with some 'Africanness' in their person and in their thinking. We are all hybrids to some extent.

I am enough of a humanist to believe we should go for maximum connectivity and difficult translations rather than aim at an unattainable cultural/linguistic purity. Already in my honour's year, when I did a module on African novels written by women, I became convinced these women were making important feminist philosophical contributions, or at least were producing creative feminist ideas that can and must be taken up in feminist philosophy developed from here.

In July 2024, the first feminist philosophy conference was held in South Africa, and I was invited to give a keynote. While I witness with great pleasure a new generation of female philosophers entering academia, both feminist and otherwise, I encourage them to not only excel in traditional philosophy, but to also challenge that tradition, in both its form and contents.

What are some of the most rewarding aspects of your role as a professor and mentor to students at SU?

As a parent of small children, you might see as one of your tasks, making your children at home in the world. You tell them: “This is how xyz works, when this happens, this is what you should do." But I find that in teaching the roles are often inverted, and that my students are forever parenting me in this way.

Each new year group helps making me feel at home in the strange new and ever-changing world that they, the young ones, already belong to. When they bring their existential issues to our discussions, they alert me to the salient aspects of their worlds. So, while I try to make them at home in the world of philosophy, they always return my attention to the latest challenges we are facing.  

Only yesterday a former student and now friend told me about the delights and drawbacks of having an AI 'partner'. Apparently, they can be very attentive and caring, but they can also break up with you! With you, the human in the outfit!

I also had harder lessons to learn from some of my students, for instance some years ago, I was challenged by an honours student for my lack of attention to race in my conceptualisation of sexual violence.  I felt hurt at first, then started reading the important works that grapple with the link between race and rape – hugely benefiting my research.  

The care and energy my students bring to their philosophical work, their desire to enrich their understanding of the world and to change it for the better, is what inspires me. Everyone is unique and there are few things in life as exciting as seeing a student finding her singular voice.

Seeing and listening to a student performing a strong, independently thought-through argument, is energising. I see my teaching and mentoring as the stitching together of worlds, like quilting.  And this craft can never be a one-sided affair. It is either a vibrant conversation with high stakes, or it is nothing.

How do you see your work contributing to the fight against a rape culture and promoting gender equity on campus?

I have written a lot on sexual violence from different perspectives. But one's written work does not always get sufficiently disseminated. I have been involved in initiatives both inside and outside the classroom to address rape culture on campus. We know that worldwide, university campuses are hotbeds of sexual violence and harassment, and our University is unfortunately no exception. I was part of a photovoice project in which five female student researchers documented their personal experiences of negotiating danger and safety on the Stellenbosch campus – see campusrapeculture.co.za.

We wanted this project to get the conversation going in institutions of higher learning across the country, in response to what we know is high incidence. This conversation has not yet been taken up sufficiently, but it is absolutely key to addressing the issue. Campuswide awareness and empowerment, and ongoing education are the solutions; and not merely technical approaches such as more security guards or cameras. The first thing to understand is what 'rape culture' means. It does not mean that one's culture prescribes or even condones rape, but I think this is what many people hear and then they reject the concept and refuse to engage further. Such knee-jerk reactions are some of the main obstacles to solving gender-based violence in our country.

Everywhere where people with or without the aid of institutions claim or act as if sexual violence is a natural or inevitable burden to be carried by some vulnerable groups, they worsen the problem. To fully appreciate the extent to which the varied and very high costs of sexual violence and gender-based violence are carried by the most vulnerable, one must understand how these forms of violence are embedded in a long history of racism and colonialism. 

'Rape culture' refers to the kind of cultural 'scaffolding' (to borrow from Nicola Gavey) that helps to facilitate sexual violence in the sense that it involves processes, sanctions, events, folk wisdoms and expectations that make sexual violence expected, easy to get away with, and hard to eradicate. It tends to blame the victim, increasing the costs to reporting, and protect the perpetrator.

The saying 'boys will be boys' is a good example of rape culture: It encourages boys and men to transgress social norms (including sexual norms such as obtaining consent) and portrays such transgressions as natural, timeless and innocent and it expects of girls and women to internalise and carry the costs, often in shame and silence.

The most important thing inside institutions is to build a shared vocabulary and shared understanding around rape culture and gender equity and then to ensure that we have strong policies, but also centres with autonomous powers, to pursue gender justice on all fronts in a relentless and unbiased manner. 

Can you tell us about your family and how they have supported you throughout your academic journey?

The early years were difficult. I taught full-time at the University of Johannesburg, had three small children and was working on my PhD. One of my PhD supervisors, Selma Sevenhuijsen, held that women in academia should get a further 10-15 years added to their careers because often by their early sixties they have only just hit their stride, after spending so many years raising a family! 

I am afraid that despite my best effort, I did neglect my children somewhat for the sake of my career. But they are today fantastic friends – I adore and admire each one for their unique qualities. Their early 'support' of my career was somewhat involuntary, but since they have grown up, they have supported me in a multitude of voluntary ways.

I want to acknowledge my late dad Danie, who stayed with me in Johannesburg for six months after my mom died, to manage the household and thereby help me to finish my PhD.  The support of my partner Hendrik came in the form of discussing my writing with me in depth. He forced me to verbalise and defend the argument of each chapter of the PhD – as we drifted from the kitchen to the bedroom to the lounge. This was invaluable!

PHOTO: Stefan Els