Aid DARVO
Some acronyms capture an idea accurately and create a new word with a distinctive meaning. In the case of DARVO, I felt like it also revealed a new concept highlighting a pervasive pattern of behavior around sexual misconduct.
DARVO stands for “Deny, Attack and Reverse Victim and Offender”. Coined by Dr. Freyd, DARVO refers to a common reaction from offenders or institutions — institutional DARVO is a form of institutional betrayal — in response to being held accountable for their behaviour. The perpetrator, or the Institution, Denies the events, Attacks the victim or whistleblower, and Reverses the roles of Victim and Offender by, for example, claiming false accusations.
The follow-up of sexual abuse in the aid world consists of weak, insecure and useless hotlines where, often, the act of reporting results in the scrutiny of the victim — instead of the perpetrator — making survivors endure additional hardship. We observe, even when the reported misconduct results substantiated, that consequences for perpetrators remain trivial.
Survivors end up caught in the DARVO dynamics prevailing in the sector consisting of victim blaming either by the perpetrator or — even worse — by the institution. As a result, sexual abuse remains untackled despite scandals and the following trite promises of Zero Tolerance.
We tend to justify behaviours of institutions we love to avoid recognising institutional betrayal. It took me a long time to understand that lack of support after being sexually harassed, denial of what I had been through, and the ordeal I endured were not part of my private experience, but the common result of reporting.
Let me explain how it worked in my situation.
After my reporting, the compliance office stated the behaviour I reported did not constitute sexual harassment what represents a denial of what I went through. Literally, a behaviour that included abuse of power, groping and exhibitionism, was labelled as not constituting sexual harassment.
A classical attack from Institutions takes shape in retaliation, as many other whistleblowers, I lost my job and had to change my career. I justified not receiving more assignments in a concern for my well being: maybe they noticed I suffered burnout? I have learnt that psychological damage heals with support, not with dismissal. Especially not when you end up wondering if you had been black listed, as I did.
Finally, a unique reversion of victim and offender in the humanitarian sector consists in accusing whistleblowers of tarnishing the image of organisations and therefore causing the defunding of projects. Brilliant way of reversing responsibilities, it presents the denouncing of abuse as harming the sector — not the fact that humanitarian work remains a safe haven for predators.
A shift must take place from the current high threshold to hold an abuser to account, towards an active purge of perpetrators. The only way forward that guarantees safety, both for humanitarian employees as well as the assisted population, consists in exposing predators and ensuring punishment when misbehaviour occurs.
We, survivors, often have no other alternative than going public, turning journalists into compliance officers. It proves painful to denounce institutions we love, but it is worse to accept that the price to pay, to deliver humanitarian aid, includes turning a blind eye on sexual exploitation and abuse.
Illustration by Cristina de Middel
