Acknowledging Differences, Building Solidarity and Fighting Together

The article comes from Chloe, a member of 在日フェミニスト連帯会.

【中文版】：看见差异，建立连结，共同斗争——对海外华... 

【日本語版】：差異を認識し、連帯を築き、共に戦う——華... 

In September, Korean feminists launched a movement against digital sexual violence based on deepfake technology. In the numerous deepfake digital sexual violence cases exposed, most of the victims were women, and much of this violence took place in schools. Many underage high school boys used AI technology to humiliate, harass, and even threaten their women classmates and teachers. These cases inevitably recall the previously exposed and notorious "Nth Room" case. However, such serious issues in Korea seem to be downplayed by those in power and mainstream society. To prevent this form of digital sexual violence from becoming normalized and naturalized, many Korean feminists have risen in protest. Meanwhile, overseas Chinese feminist communities that were paying attention to the issue also voiced their support. My friends in Japan received an invitation from overseas Chinese feminists in the UK.

After some struggle and hesitation, I decided to participate in the action of the overseas Chinese feminists in Japan to support Korean feminists against deepfake violence. And I was deeply moved and inspired. Especially I received an immense surge of energy from a Korean feminist who stood on the street and shared her experience. To show support for women who have suffered sexual violence because of their short hair, she cut off her own hair and actively learned about feminisms. She overcame helplessness, spoke out in the streets, and told other women not to despair—the world can be changed. Seeing her standing there narrating her transformation, giving hope to others who felt helpless and desperate, and calling for solidarity, brought tears to my eyes. As a feminist, I believe that the urge and courage to "stand up" is deeply moving and precious. Even if the strength is small and the hope for change is faint, we must not allow inequality and violence to persist unquestioned. In this regard, standing up in solidarity and resisting together holds great significance.

However, alongside these inspirations and emotions, some concerns that had been weighing on me since the beginning of the action remained unresolved. When writing academic papers, I dared to be critical. But now, when friends around me are united in anger, urgency, and active action, I realize that voicing different opinions requires great courage. Nonetheless, I’ve also heard some different voices from friends in both Chinese and Japanese queer feminist communities. These voices made my concerns even clearer and convinced me of the importance of speaking out about them. I believe that whether my views would be agreed with or not, my friends, and perhaps others who will become my friends, would at least be willing to listen to what I have to say.

I am a non-binary (assigned female at birth) queer feminist of Chinese descent living in Japan, a member of several intersecting communities. Since my knowledge and understanding of Korean society are very limited, I feel unable to speak much about the situation there. My following reflections are mostly based on observations of the overseas Chinese feminist community.

Firstly, one of the reasons I could not immediately endorse or promote the action from the beginning is that the main narrative of this series of actions largely adhered to a gender-binary logic (including slogans based on cisgenderism and genital-centered rhetoric such as penis humiliation, which were partially modified in Japan due to differing opinions). In most cases, including incidents of deepfake-related sexual violence and harassment, it is indeed men harming, controlling, and dominating women. And the deepfake digital sexual violence cases have indeed exposed the serious problem of a misogynistic culture that sees "women's bodies as something to be controlled and dominated." However, I believe the reality is more complex than the binary logic of “men versus women.”

For instance, how can we be sure that all the victims are women? As a non-binary person who is often perceived as female, I have also experienced various forms of sexual violence and harassment, and I have felt disgust and anger. But I know that my feelings and the violence I have faced differ from those of my cis-women friends. For example, I am angry at the violence imposed on women as if it were “normal and natural,” but I am also angry at being "treated as a woman," which denies my existence. If the feminist solidarity offered to me is based solely on a connection of "being a woman” or “female" identity, to be honest, I would feel troubled. Accepting such an offer of solidarity would mean denying a very important part of myself. And this kind of denial, as well as misgendering, is something I frequently encounter both within and outside of feminist communities.

These are just my views based on personal experience, and of course, people across different locations on the gender spectrum will have different feelings. For instance, trans women, non-binary people, and agender individuals who were assigned male at birth but present femininely are also frequent targets of sexual violence and harassment in their daily life. How do they view the (cisnormative) gender-binary narrative in this action? I cannot speak for them, but I hope that their voices are heard and truly understood. Raising these questions is not simply about asking cis women to be more inclusive of gender diversity; but about striving for a thorough cultural transformation of gender norms—one that affects everyone. After all, interpreting sexual violence solely as men = perpetrators/women = victims not only obscures the more complex realities but also reinforces toxic gender stereotypes and norms that affect everyone, limiting the possibilities for diverse imagination of gender, connection and real change.

Secondly, I have some concerns regarding the demand for "harsh punishment." In the overseas Chinese feminist action literature, including the slogans used during the action in Tokyo, there were calls for harsh penalties for sexual crimes. In some discussions, I even saw people demanding the death penalty. As someone deeply influenced by the abolitionist thinking of Black, queer, and feminist movements, and as someone who has seen activists and marginalized people continually subjected to the violence of police and prison in Hong Kong, mainland China, and Japan, and as someone who has been re-traumatized by police after experiencing sexual harassment—I cannot agree with the demand for "harsh punishment."

From my limited understanding, in various regions, state power has always been consolidated and expanded through the police, prisons, and other parts of the carceral system, which carry out "legal" punishments. Meanwhile, as more resources are funneled into the carceral system (which may even become massive industrial complexes), public welfare and resources that nurture various communities are continuously reduced. And those who are most marginalized, impoverished, or rebellious are often the most exposed to the violence of the carceral system. In this context, isn't the feminist call for "harsh punishment" of sex crimes at risk of becoming a tool for expanding the carceral system and empowering the state? Could it end up protecting only a small portion of women’s rights while creating more oppression?

Abolitionists repeatedly call for the elimination of crime by changing the unequal social systems, emphasizing the importance of mutual support, understanding, and education in daily community-building, rather than reliance on the punitive system. In this anti-deepfake action, I saw demands for legalization and harsh punishment, but hardly any calls for comprehensive public education about gender and sexuality. I believe that to fundamentally change the misogynistic patriarchal culture, the most crucial effort should be directed toward daily, foundational education (including cultural practices that have educational value) about gender and sexuality with intersectional perspectives and based on social justice. As a feminist, I think anger is extremely valuable, and this anger can be a driving force for social change. I sincerely hope this precious emotion won’t be co-opted to reinforce existing power structures that oppress the most marginalized.

Lastly, I want to share my thoughts on the idea that "women have no borders." I can understand the excitement of discovering the possibility of connections that transcend national borders and languages. But upon reflection, what exactly are these "connections" based on? Is it merely founded on the "shared experience of women" or “compassion as women,” or is it based on understanding and reflecting on differences? Gender is never something that can be understood in isolation. Different regions of the world have different geopolitical and historical contexts, and gender politics are inseparable from these contexts. Gender issues may appear similar across different places, due to the circulation of certain hegemonic feminist knowledge. Regarding factors like histories of colonialism, the burdens that feminist politics carry in different regions are not the same and cannot be universally generalized. International feminist movements have long critically reflected on the arrogance of "global sisterhood" dominated by Global North feminists and have reached a consensus on the importance of "recognizing differences." I hope the action supporting Korean feminists goes beyond the simple idea of "cross-border connections among women" and serves as a beginning for the overseas Chinese feminist communities to understand Korean feminism and the gender and sexual politics in other regions around the world.

This action I participated in took place in Japan, and only a few local queer feminists helped spread information about the protest. At the same time, I heard hesitation and differing opinions from my Japanese queer friends, and I saw some discussions in Japanese on social media raising issues of cisnormativity and the gender binary language used in this action. I believe that such responses (or lack thereof) have their background and reasons. In recent years, trans-exclusionary and anti-sex work feminist voices have been rampant on Japanese social media and intellectual circles. Even the far-right in Japan, which has long attacked feminism, has begun to join the trans-exclusionary “anti-gender” ranks under the banner of "protecting women" as a form of "justice." Many of these arguments are rooted in the same logic of men = perpetrators/women = victims, which ends up exclusion of more marginalized groups and justifies this exclusion as a "feminist demand". (It is undeniable that these ideas are influenced by certain feminist movements overseas, including those from Korea and the UK.) As these endless disputes and harm to trans people and other marginalized groups continue, the feminist divisions have become increasingly evident. After experiencing these splits, feminists who value queer and trans politics are highly vigilant and sensitive to language that suggests cisnormativity and gender-binary logic. This may be why many of my friends from the local queer communities feel reluctant to actively participate in this action.

In China, due to government suppression of most discourse about feminist, sex work, and LGBTQ+, there is little space to discuss these issues, even though trans-exclusionary and anti-sex work voices do exist. I hope that this action can also become an opportunity for Chinese feminists to learn about gender and sexual politics in Japan and building connections with Japanese feminists (not those who are trans-exclusionary or anti-sex work). Only on the basis of understanding the different geographical and historical contexts can we truly achieve "cross-border connections."

Additionally, I believe that the relationship between pornographic culture and sexual exploitation, crimes, and assault requires deeper reflection. Otherwise, it’s easy to fall into simplistic positions like "anti-pornography," "anti-sex work," or even "criminalization of sex work," which could lead to further oppression of sex workers—who are often already marginalized and at the bottom of the social hierarchy. Due to limited capacity, I won’t elaborate much here, but I hope this can serve as a starting point for further discussion.

After participating in this action and reflecting on it, I suddenly understood the meaning and significance of the concept of "reflective solidarity," introduced by leftist feminist scholar Jodi Dean. Dean suggests that "reflective solidarity" is formed through the process of continuous dialogue and recognition of differences between individuals. This form of solidarity is not based on an "us vs. them" logic, but rather on the idea that "you and I stand together against a third party." In other words, the imagined “us,” often taken for granted as a unified collective based on a shared identity, is not monolithic. Within this seemingly unified group, there are differences between "you and me" (and them). It is through continuous dialogue and recognition of these differences, and through understanding our common reasons for resisting the third party, that we can build connections for a shared struggle. (Of course, we must also be mindful of the unequal power dynamics between privileged and marginalized individuals in these dialogues.) Therefore, "we" is not a fixed, static entity but something that is constantly evolving, shaped by practice and political direction.

I believe that the feminist struggle has never been, and should never be, simply a battle of "us women" vs. "them men." Feminist struggle is a fight led by "you, me, and them," who have been subjected to various forms and degrees of oppression and violence due to our "womanhood" or “femininity” (and sometimes the "manhood" imposed on us). It is a collective resistance against patriarchy. It is also a struggle against the unequal social structures intertwined with patriarchy—capitalism, colonialism, racism, ableism, and so on—and an effort to imagine and construct new social possibilities.

The key to connecting "you, me, and them," and forming "us," is not a shared biological base or identity, but rather our shared political demands. "We" stand together because we choose change, we choose to resist various structures of inequality, and we choose new social possibilities. By recognizing the differences among "you, me, and them" within "us" and understanding our shared political demands, we can truly begin a solidarity-based struggle.