Were it not for a security guard in a small-town supermarket, the world might never have known of Gisèle Pelicot—and indeed, she might have remained in her own mind a mother of three and grandmother of seven comfortably retired in picture-perfect Provence with her husband of more than 50 years, Dominique Pelicot.
Instead, Dominique’s arrest in 2020, for surreptitiously filming up the skirts of women as they shopped, shattered the veneer of domestic tranquility, culminating in a 2024 rape trial the likes of which France—and much of the world—had rarely seen. The evidence was as overwhelming as it was chilling: police found more than 20,000 photos and videos on Dominique’s laptop and other devices showing Gisèle, drugged into unconsciousness by her husband, being raped on their bed by more than 70 different men without her knowledge over nearly a decade; Dominique marked one folder of videos simply “Abuse.”
The horrors, and Gisèle’s response to them, made headlines around the world as she defiantly chose to waive her legal right to anonymity. By the time Dominique Pelicot, 72, and 50 others were convicted last December of rape, attempted rape, or sexual assault, Gisèle had gone from obscurity to global icon in the campaign against sexual violence, training a deeply unsettling microscope on its darkest corners.
A diminutive presence in the Avignon courthouse, clad in tailored shirts and fine scarves, Gisèle, 72, insisted on attending the entire three-month trial and having the horrific footage aired publicly before her attackers. For many French, she defined heroism: an ordinary person taking extraordinary actions. Thousands marched in support. Murals of her face appeared across the country. A banner hung from Avignon’s ancient ramparts reading merci gisèle. After the verdicts, she acknowledged her significance, telling hundreds of journalists, “I think of all the other victims whose stories remain untold ... We share the same fight.”
And yet, that fight will not be easily won. Amid the detritus of a shattered family, and despite France reeling from the testimony, the question remains: Will Gisèle Pelicot’s act of profound bravery create lasting change?
A French parliamentary study in January estimated only 20% of the country’s rape survivors ever press charges. Of those cases, about 94% are dismissed without a trial, according to one study last year. Unlike the U.S. and many countries in Europe, France does not define rape as sex without consent, but rather as intercourse committed by violence, surprise, constraint, or threat. Lawyers say the narrow definition complicates rape cases; the French Parliament is now debating how to change it. Gisèle Pelicot’s attackers—many of them fathers and husbands, including a nurse, a journalist, and truck drivers—argued that Dominique’s invitations for them to have sex with his unconscious wife seemed as good as having her permission, and 17 have since appealed their convictions. “These men looked at these videos and said, ‘That is not rape,’” Gisèle’s lawyer Antoine Camus tells TIME, shaking his head in dismay. He believes the intense focus on his client might finally force legal changes. “This is the first time in France you have deep thinking on this,” he says. “I think there will be a ‘before’ and ‘after’ of this trial.”
Sexual-violence experts caution that legal measures are just the start. Some fear that making Gisèle Pelicot a hero might absolve people from confronting the deeper, troubling truths about her ordeal, including how in 21st century France this could have occurred, and for so long. “She does not want medals pinned on her jacket. She wants things to change,” posits Anne Bouillon, an attorney in the French city of Nantes who specializes in representing survivors and has been following the case.
In some ways, change has already come. Gisèle Pelicot’s courageous fight against sexual violence has blasted open a sealed door through which other survivors now feel free to walk. “I hear this from my clients who I see every day in my office,” Bouillon says. “They mention Gisèle Pelicot as an authorization to speak out. It is amazing.”
Gisèle herself said it best, from a place she never imagined being: on the witness stand last October, with the world’s attention fixed on her. “I wanted all women victims of rape—not just when they have been drugged, rape exists at all levels—I want those women to say, ‘Madame Pelicot did it, we can do it too,” she said. Her motivation to participate so publicly in her trial, she said, was not simply courage. “I say it is not bravery,” she told the court. “It is will and determination to change society.” Few can claim to have as credible a chance to do just that.
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