Gisèle Pelicot’s Journey: From Hiding to Defiance

A warning: This report includes details of alleged sexual offenses. Several weeks into the legal proceedings, Gisèle Pelicot chose to take off her sunglasses. This act was more than a simple response to the diminishing autumn light in Avignon, a medieval city in southern France. It also signified a significant turning point in her arduous transformation, which saw her evolve from a tranquil grandmother into a distressed and shamed victim of rape, then a hesitant courtroom witness, and ultimately, a worldwide symbol of bravery and resistance. Stéphane Babonneau, the young criminal lawyer who has represented Mrs. Pelicot for two years in the case against her ex-husband, Dominique, and fifty other men accused of raping her, stated, “She had these sunglasses she used to hide her eyes… to protect her intimacy.” Mr. Babonneau elaborated that “there was a point when she felt she no longer needed to protect herself. She didn’t need [the glasses],” highlighting this moment to demonstrate the gradual change in a “sincere… very humble person” who had started the trial “extremely worried,” overwhelmed by media attention, and still “very ashamed of what had happened to her.” Throughout the trial, 72-year-old Gisèle Pelicot has remained largely silent regarding her experience, offering only infrequent, brief remarks to her supporters assembled at Avignon’s Palais de Justice. However, Mr. Babonneau, now speaking with his client’s consent, has started to provide details about her conduct in court and her deliberate, gradual efforts to reconstruct her life and, to some degree, her mental tranquility. Another significant event, a pivotal point, stands out. This occurred in May of this year. Mr. Babonneau and his colleague Antoine Camus were reviewing a portion of the 20,000 disturbingly explicit videos and photographs that law enforcement had found on Dominique Pelicot’s computer hard drive in 2020. This was a distressing assignment. Mr. Babonneau described the videos as “absolutely disgusting,” but found the audio even more unsettling. “It’s possible to hear Mrs Pelicot snoring… to hear her breathing. It’s even more disturbing to listen to her choking when some of the men are abusing her. The sound was very important [evidence].” Mr. Babonneau recognized that without these videos, “most likely there would have been no trial, no case.” Mrs. Pelicot also grasped this reality, yet she could have, quite understandably and easily, chosen to refrain from viewing any of the footage for her own mental well-being. Instead, Mr. Babonneau recalls her simply declaring one day: “I’m ready now.” Consequently, she sat with the two men in their office as they presented a carefully chosen segment from each video, identifying the individuals and describing the actions she would witness them performing against her. Mr. Babonneau then initiated playback, and scenes from the Pelicots’ bedroom, located in their bungalow in the village of Mazan, appeared on the screen. Gisèle stayed motionless, observing with concentration. “How could he?” she eventually inquired, her voice soft. This question became a recurring statement for her in the subsequent days. Shortly thereafter, she identified the date on one of the videos. “That was my birthday evening.” “That happened in [my] daughter’s bed. In her beach house.” Mr. Babonneau recalls Mrs. Pelicot’s persistent outrage, yet also observed that she did not shed tears and, with professional assistance, had succeeded “to put an impressive distance between what she was seeing and her mental health.” The legal team viewed this event as a “final test,” indicating that their client had achieved “some kind of equilibrium” in the four years following November 4, 2020, the date she learned of her husband’s conduct and when “her world was destroyed.” She was now prepared to endure the demands of a public trial. Mrs. Pelicot’s motivation for viewing the footage was to identify the men involved and to help reconstruct the missing portions of her memory, which had been erased by years of being drugged by her husband. Mr. Babonneau clarified, “She has entire pieces of her existence that don’t exist in her mind.” Similar pragmatic considerations initially influenced her choice for a public trial and her insistence on the videos being presented in open court. She was undoubtedly furious. However, at that point, her aim was not global change. She was simply apprehensive about the prospect of spending months in a private courtroom filled with dozens of her assailants. She believed a public trial would seem less daunting. The initial day of the trial remained distressing. With sunglasses on, Mrs. Pelicot was making her first public appearance. The situation intensified. As Mr. Babonneau walked alongside her up the courthouse steps, he observed and identified some of the masked accused men. Mrs. Pelicot gradually realized she was encircled by them, their elbows brushing as they pushed through the same security checkpoints. Mr. Babonneau recounted, “It was stressful for her. She was surprised how casual everything seemed to be.” Subsequently, a moment occurred—the first in four years—when Gisèle and Dominique Pelicot’s gazes intersected across the packed courtroom. Their seating arrangement appeared to make such eye contact inevitable. Mr. Babonneau observed, “I saw sometimes that they exchanged looks.” Gisèle had frequently expressed to her legal team her apprehension about her potential reaction during this initial confrontation. It is now known that Dominique Pelicot, during his testimony in court, admitted to all charges and sought his family’s forgiveness. It is also understood that Gisèle Pelicot has not forgiven him. Mr. Babonneau stated, “For sure, no. She cannot forgive him.” Nevertheless, the couple had once been deeply in love, having been married for fifty years. In the courtroom, Mr. Babonneau perceived that the former spouses could not completely disregard their common history. What, then, did the lawyer discern in their exchanged glances? Mr. Babonneau suggested it was as if they were saying, “look at us.” He sensed they were conveying a mutual feeling of disbelief, almost as if they were, for a brief period, observers witnessing the suffering of two unfamiliar individuals. “How did we end up here?” Throughout the trial, defense attorneys representing various accused men attempted to imply that Gisèle’s calm demeanor and absence of tears indicated her complicity in her own abuse or her sympathy for Dominique Pelicot. Mr. Babonneau remarked, with a hint of disdain, “When a victim doesn’t cry, or cries too much, there is always something to criticise.” Although these accusations visibly disturbed Mrs. Pelicot, she also instructed her legal team not to be concerned. The explanation was straightforward: nothing the lawyers could present in court could ever equate to the most dreadful moment of her life, that day in November 2020, when an officer at Carpentras Police Station showed her the initial disturbing images investigators had recovered from her husband’s hard drive. Babonneau recalls her stating, “You know I survived 2 November 2020, so I’m ready for everything now.” As the legal proceedings progressed, Gisèle Pelicot was astonished to discover that public and media attention did not wane, contrary to what she and her team had anticipated. Instead, she started receiving correspondence, presents, and applause from supportive crowds. Babonneau noted, “When she started receiving these letters, she felt some kind of responsibility for victims who had suffered similar things.” She recognized the distinctiveness of her situation—that the video evidence ensured it was not merely “the word of the victim against the word of the suspect,” and that she now possessed an uncommon chance “to change society.” She conveyed to Mr. Babonneau, “I’m lucky to have the evidence. I have the proof, which is very rare. So, I have to go through [all this] to stand for all the victims.” Her lawyer once more observed his client’s “simple,” pragmatic disposition. She has no desire to be “an activist,” but is solely focused on how her experience of being drugged unknowingly could now assist in raising awareness among other women about the issue and encourage them to recognize potential indicators of similar abuse. If she had possessed the knowledge that is now common throughout France, she might have been able to stop her suffering. And perhaps other women can now follow suit. Regarding the future, Mrs. Pelicot might potentially grant a few interviews in the coming months, breaking her silence. However, she has clearly stated her wish “to remain an individual… she wants to live a very simple life.” And while she may never pardon her former “perfect” ex-husband, she has discovered a method to cope with her recollections of him and to cherish the “happy moments” they once shared. Certain psychiatrists contend that Dominique Pelicot is a fairly characteristic psychopath—a high-functioning narcissist devoid of empathy, who alternated between a depraved secret existence and the self-satisfying persona of a family man. Gisèle Pelicot views the situation more straightforwardly, adopting the concept of a split personality, which was presented during the trial. As Mr. Babonneau articulated, “there were two men in Dominique Pelicot and she only knew one of them.” For those impacted by the themes discussed in this report, assistance and resources are accessible through the BBC Action Line. Copyright 2024 BBC. All rights reserved. The BBC bears no responsibility for the content of external websites. Information regarding our external linking policy is available.