Compromised Compassion: Sexual Violence in the Humanitarian Aid Sector

“He was American and he had very strong ties with the local government, and he used them to help the organization gain ground. He informed me upon arrival at the remote field site that we needed to go to the state capital to register me. I did not think much of it, and went with him by train. Before we left, he said that he and the Director (female) typically shared a bed to save money and suggested we do the same. I asked if we had budget for two rooms. He said no. I said then I will only go if we have separate beds. The organization had low resources, so it did not strike me as odd until after the incident.”

So began one survivor testimony collected by Report the Abuse, a confidential reporting platform for aid workers who’ve experienced sexual abuse in the workplace.

Sexual violence and harassment within the humanitarian sector have emerged as pervasive issues over the past several years (reaching a fever pitch after the Oxfam controversy in Haiti), challenging the noble image of those who dedicate their lives to aiding others in need. But as the testimony above reveals, aid workers can and do experience sexual abuse at the hands of their own colleagues.

The global attention of the #MeToo movement has prompted the aid sector to acknowledge its own #AidToo crisis. Half a decade later, the spotlight has dimmed, and sadly, the aid sector has seen minimal substantive changes.

Exposing power imbalances

Sexual violence is predictably prevalent in countries with low inclusion, justice, and security for women, so it may come as no surprise that these countries also have high numbers of reported sexualized attacks on aid workers. But most perpetrators aren’t from the local population: in fact, most sexual violence incidents against aid workers are perpetrated by their own colleagues — other aid workers.

The noble humanitarian, who voluntarily leaves the comforts of a stable, middle-class life — likely in an affluent country — to assist those in need in a destabilized setting is hardly anyone’s first image of a perpetrator. But this idealized perception only serves to disadvantage survivors, who face even more skepticism than in typical workplace sexual harassment cases. It also hinders progress in the aid sector, as even organizations struggle to see beyond the altruism of their missions to hold their staff accountable.

While providing aid in the aftermath of the 2010 earthquake in Haiti, senior Oxfam Great Britain staff engaged in exploitative behavior, leading to a ban from the country and a damning indictment of the British government’s failure to prevent sexual exploitation and abuse within the sector.

A similar scandal to Oxfam’s, involving United Nations staff trading food for sex in South Sudan, has exposed to the public the dark underbelly of the humanitarian sector and further underscores the urgent need for systemic change.

But these high-profile cases still distract from everyday cases in which humanitarians are mistreated by their colleagues.

Megan Nobert, Report the Abuse’s founder, is a Canadian aid worker who was raped by a colleague in South Sudan. Although the organization no longer exists, Nobert has spent two years collecting testimonies from survivors — including the one found above — and advising humanitarian organizations on how to actually address the crisis. A first step is observing the structural conditions that allow the abuse to happen in the first place.

The humanitarian sector’s structural factors — including predominantly male upper management, remote work settings, and blurred boundaries between work and recreation — create a breeding ground for abuse. Many survivors hesitate to rebuff a colleague’s advances or report an incident out of fear that doing so would directly impact their daily work or harm their long-term career prospects. Remaining in the same environment consistently makes it difficult to avoid the perpetrator.

What’s more, in many aid organizations, middle and upper management are dominated by white men, while junior staff are mostly young women or locals. People have been proven to have higher trust in others when they are similar to themselves. Consequently, due to the lack of women or local staff in leadership positions, the credibility of their accounts following an incident is low.

Echoing dynamics in the military

Sexual violence can be an opportunistic crime. War, for example, generates opportunities for people to commit different forms of misconduct because the rules of law are either malfunctioning or not functioning at all. For some individuals, this could mean an opportunity to rape with impunity because order, norms, and social structures shift or break down.

The very nature of humanitarian emergencies requires work in fragile situations, even in non-conflict-affected regions. Breakdown in law and order is inherent to most emergency environments.

As such, aid workers can find themselves in situations akin to those of the military: Research on sexual violence among military troops suggests that in stressful environments with high degrees of violence, masculinity is constructed in more intense ways and more strongly defined by toughness and honor.

The military highlights the roles of bravery, physical strength, and sense of duty as defining characteristics of men’s masculinities. The humanitarian sector is equally characterized by machismo, hyper-masculinity, misogyny, and racism, paired with a sense of power by senior officials.

Humanitarian organizations are structured hierarchically, not unlike the military. The staff are also called officers (e.g. protection officer, camp management officer, etc.). And, as in the military, there is a strict hierarchy according to position, seniority, and number of years in the field. Humanitarians often boast about their experiences in challenging environments, with experience in conflict countries earning particularly more clout.

Respect within the sector is often tied to enduring difficult situations, fostering a culture where survivors do not report incidents because they fear being perceived as unfit for the field. Combined with chaotic situations and weak rule of law in conflict settings, this creates a climate favorable to sexual violence.

Organizational cultures in the military also often discourage reporting of sexual violence. Survivors who do report are subject to retaliation, stigma, and secondary victimization, as they may be subjected to repeated sexual harassment based on the assumption that they are promiscuous. The military’s hierarchical structure, rigid gender roles, and emphasis on conformity and loyalty can also contribute to situational permissiveness, as those who report may be seen as violating the group’s norms and subjected to social exclusion. And, of the men who do not consider sexual harassment acceptable, very few will “rock the boat” by attempting to convince their peers of the same.

Like soldiers, aid workers also often live in compounds or guest houses that they either cannot leave or only rarely do. Even in places where aid workers can leave the compound, people from the aid community (that is, people working for aid organizations) spend day and night with their coworkers and go to the same bars and restaurants on weekends. Remote field offices are also far away from the reporting lines at headquarters, creating a separation of culture.

This leads to subtle and overt power plays in this field, often with men engaging in worse behavior than in other professions because of impunity.

Aid workers work in fragile political environments, come from diverse nationalities, operate under different legal frameworks, and may struggle to interact with local authorities. These factors cumulatively create a cumbersome and intimidating system that can deter survivors of sexual violence from seeking legal justice.

Situational permissiveness

In my own research, “#AidToo, or when situation permits rape: sexual violence among humanitarian aid workers,” I analyzed survivor testimonies and showed that an ambiguous legal framework, barriers to accessing justice, and organizational mismanagement contribute to a permissive environment for sexual violence in the aid sector.

The figure below shows how many testimonies (out of 62) mention specific keywords. For example, 54 survivors indicated that there were no legal measures taken — not even an internal complaint within the organization — even though a serious crime had been committed.

Only eight survivors received support from colleagues or their employer, either psychologically or institutionally, in terms of follow-up mechanisms.

The dismissive attitude toward survivors exacerbates the problem, creating a reinforcing mechanism for impunity. Even after the issue gained widespread public attention from the Oxfam scandal — and the emerging #AidToo movement — many aid agencies continue to focus on victim-blaming measures rather than implementing robust prevention and follow-up mechanisms: Security manuals that prescribe what women should wear perpetuate a “boys will be boys” culture, failing to address the root causes of abuse.

The survivor above further articulates the gross mismanagement from her employer after she reported the case, suggesting that she was unfit for the field if she could not handle the situation:

“10 months later, I was informed that my assaulter would be returning as my supervisor. The CEO had come in from the United States, and I asked to speak with her. She told me to tell her exactly what had happened. I told her word for word. She then looked straight into my eyes and said, ‘You’re a woman. It happens. Deal with it,’ and proceeded to say that he told her I had lied about the entire incident, that his memory of the evening returned and he knew that I was lying. I was embarrassed about what had happened and was afraid to lose my job.”

The reluctance of aid agencies to address internal mismanagement allows perpetrators to escape consequences, while survivors struggle to navigate a legal system that often fails them.

A call to action

Shortly after global attention around #AidToo, the UN promised improvements. Some organizations created dedicated advisor roles for sexual abuse and improved their training. Independent organizations now offer professional certifications that can be revoked after unprofessional conduct, which intends to prevent known perpetrators from merely shifting to another organization. And, in 2021, Interpol, in collaboration with the UK, introduced the Soteria project, which allows aid organizations to utilize Interpol records to screen prospective applicants for histories of sexual abuse during the hiring process.

But while these initiatives are commendable steps toward addressing the issue, there are no concrete prevention and follow-up measures implemented. And despite the initial attention, momentum to overhaul the sector has slowed since 2019. This raises concerns about the sustained commitment and comprehensive strategies needed to combat sexual abuse within humanitarian organizations.

The situation in the aid sector sheds light on aspects often overlooked in prejudiced discourses: Sexual violence and harassment are not inherent to any particular culture, and gender equality is not contingent on a society’s level of development. Instead, it reveals that an elevated number of men from countries with progressive gender standards, engaged in roles where empathy for others is expected, can become perpetrators in a permissive environment, fostering increased incidents of sexual violence.

This underscores the crucial need for societal and employer-level policies to be established, prohibiting this behavior under any circumstances. But before it does, the aid sector must address the structural factors that enable and perpetuate abuse.