`mothers, Monsters And Whores`

Many have declared the 21st century as the 'century for the woman' (UN Women, 2011), and indeed, in many respects it has been, so far. With regards to human security, much more attention has been paid to the impact of political violence, war and terrorism on women, and many more gender-sensitive policies have been established by international bodies which aim to deconstruct traditional conceptions of gender. However, there has also been a propensity to focus on the devastation of women's lives and to portray them solely as victims - helpless and without agency. Within much of the academic literature concerning the broadening of security and the engendering of political violence, women, like children, are often deemed to be the vulnerable sufferers of masculine violence, especially when most scholarly attention has been paid to wartime rape, prostitution at military base camps and the torture of women as a means to obtaining intelligence from men (Bloom, 2010: 445 -450). Of course these issues are important - no one can deny that - but there has also been a tendency to exaggerate the victimisation of women, and moreover, to forget that women all over the world engage in political violence too (Alison, 2004: 450) - and in increasing numbers.

It is not just the forgetting of female violence which is important, but also the manner in which female violence, when it is identified, is depicted and therefore controlled. This essay attempts to explain, firstly: how women's political violence is illustrated through three main narratives, that is, through the 'mother', the 'whore', or the 'monster'. And secondly: that women's violence is portrayed through these three narratives due to biological, psychological and sexual stereotypes which are deeply rooted in assumptions concerning what is 'proper' and 'appropriate' behaviour among men and women. By this, I do not mean to suggest that female violence is consciously controlled by men, to uphold an omnipotent system of patriarchy and male dominance, for violence and aggression itself is generally perceived to be a negative trait, but that it is these gendered stereotypes of masculinity and femininity, already deeply entrenched within society, which control and manipulate further conceptions. These preconceived notions of what it is to be 'masculine' and what it is to be 'feminine' are indeed the input to depictions and descri ptions of female violence, but they are also the output, for the narratives which are formed reaffirm and strengthen existing gender stereotypes it is a vicious-circle. Of course, many would argue that this line of argument, especially the view that female victimisation has been exaggerated, is deeply chauvinist and contrary to the feminist endeavour; however, it is only when women have been reengaged into the realm of political violence, and are not just passive victims of such events, that preconceived notions of masculinity and femininity can be broken down and the two-tier discourse of gender can be demolished. Women can be violent without the cause of a man and without being unnatural, inhumane or monstrous - because like men - they are human, and therefore capable of terrible things. Traditional gender norms portray women as emotional, sensitive, nurturing and peaceful; these depictions have been established for thousands of years and across many different cultures - rightly or wrongly, they are a framework by which people make sense of the world. This is why the common reaction to women's violence is one of shock and incomprehension as they have, not only acted outside of their prescribed gender role, but they have also intruded upon another. This need to make sense of the world, combined with women acting in opposition to their idealised gender stereotypes means that other explanations are constructed and developed in order to justify and, almost rationalise, deviant female behaviour (Sjoberg et Al. 2008: 9). The first of which, is the narrative of the mother.