A chapter from
“Hate Crime, Gender and Rape”
by Tina Trent
I began to change my mind about hate crimes laws in June 1998, five days after James Byrd Jr. was dragged to death in Texas. Driving from a conference in Denver back home to Atlanta, I pulled off the highway to let my engine cool. I was reading the Tuscaloosa News in my car when three black men straggled over from the row of silent payphones. They’d been passing time, drinking. There didn’t appear to be a lot else to do in the middle of the night in a parking lot carved out from scrub pine in western Alabama. The men were friendly and a little bit drunk. They wanted money to check the oil in my car, and they felt like talking.
Upon learning that I had just made the long drive through Texas, one of them shook his head and said: “I wouldn’t go to Texas. They kill black men there.” After a day and a night of driving alone, I also wanted to talk. Black men, I said, get killed everywhere, and other people do, too. I pointed to the story I was reading in the Tuscaloosa News about a particularly brutal murder that had occurred nearby, in 1995: Mattie Wesson, age 70, had been awakened in her bed by a neighbor who beat her, tied her up, raped her, then shot her five times as she crawled out the door to escape. The first police officer to arrive on the crime scene was Mattie Wesson’s son. He found his mother’s body in her carport
“But that’s different,” one of the men said. “Those guys in Texas wanted to kill a black man. This guy was looking for crack money, and the old lady woke up. I don’t know why he raped her, though. That didn’t seem necessary,” he added.
As I drove back to Atlanta, the word “necessary” stuck in my mind. The man in the parking lot wasn’t minimizing what happened to Mattie Wesson: he expressed horror at the thought of her ordeal. The rape seemed to genuinely puzzle him. Her assailant needed money for crack, and that need was clearly logical; he needed to conceal his identity and Mattie Wesson knew him, so killing her made sense, in a criminal way. But raping a frail old woman you’re about to kill couldn’t be explained by the logic of addiction. Raping Mattie Wesson, we agreed in that parking lot, was a hateful act. It was just like tying James Byrd to a truck and dragging him behind it until he died. It wasn’t necessary.
I remembered this encounter with particular clarity because it forced me to think about something that had been bothering me since I had attended President Clinton’s 1997 White House Conference on Hate Crimes seven months earlier.
This conference marked a new level of visibility and prestige for the hate crimes movement. Important White House staff was in attendance, including members of Clinton’s cabinet, Vice President Gore, and Attorney General Janet Reno. Congressional leaders were there, along with scores of community leaders and youth leaders and religious leaders and civil rights leaders and gay and lesbian leaders; it was one of those events touted as “coalition-building.” If you couldn’t be in Washington, there were more than 50 sites set up around the country so that thousands of additional activists could observe and convene their own events.
I was sitting in one of these satellite-linked audiences, in a public television studio in Atlanta. On the television screen, President Clinton was experiencing his usual high level of empathetic intensity; his voice crackled with sorrow, then excitement; he looked as if he wanted nothing more than to plunge into the crowd of people and start hugging them.
This was an event, it was the place to be, and the vast array of department heads and big-name non-profits bespoke of an enormous hate crimes bureaucracy already humming. This was a church of the believers, and I was one too, sitting in Atlanta in a television studio, surrounded by dozens of community leaders; what we were going to do was nothing less than lead the American public from the darkness of hate and prejudice into a new century of enlightenment, and how we were going to accomplish this task was through tolerance programs funded by the Department of Education, and community mediation programs funded by the Department of Justice’s Community Relations Service, and mental health studies funded by the National Institute of Mental Health, and law enforcement trainings to teach police how to identify bias in criminal behavior, and statistics-gathering to make this invisible crime wave visible, and long prison terms for criminals who lash out with prejudice.
All of this was discussed with zeal, in a crowd resplendent of visible multiculturalism, a rainbow of identities and faces in perfect agreement regarding the rightness of their task, for whom in that room could argue that prejudice is not an urgent and omnipresent burden? There was something disorienting about listening to left-leaning activists making fierce arguments for longer prison sentences and crackdowns on crime, but these were no ordinary criminals being discussed; they were neo-Nazis and Klansmen and gay-bashers, people undeserving of the sociological empathy that progressive activists bring to discussions of crime.
There was also a curious emphasis on the historical which reminded me, of all things, of the intensity that Confederate re-enactors bring to their task of re-living the Civil War. The murders that would come to symbolize hate crimes for most Americans, Matthew Shepard’s and Byrd Jr.’s, had not yet occurred. The hate crimes movement was reaching back into the past for evidence of racial sins. Reference was made to the Klan and to lynching, cross burning, Hitler, and the martyrs of the civil rights movement. Nobody discussed the precipitous rise in violent crimes that terrorized large portions of the public throughout the 1980’s and early 1990’s, and nobody mentioned violence directed at women and children even though representatives from women’s groups were scattered through the crowd.
Clinton spoke about his administration’s firm commitment to combating hate. Then someone in Washington, whom I later identified as California State Senator Sheila Kuehl, rose from the crowd and asked the president what was going to be done about the issue of rape. Would it, or would it not be counted as hate? This was clearly an ongoing discussion, and a tense one.
The president tilted his head apologetically, for what is he if not essentially apologetic? Then he said the thing that came flying back to me in the middle of the night on a highway in Alabama.
The President paused and then replied, his voice controllably amenable. He talked about not wanting to “clog” the federal system with crimes that were being prosecuted in the states merely in the interest of being “politically sensitive.” He used the federalism argument to dispose of the rape question, which was clearly discomfiting to him, and I remember him saying, though this exchange does not appear in the fragmentary written record of the event, that there are just “too many of ’em,” meaning rapes, to count them as hate crimes.
State Senator Kuehl sat down, and Clinton hurried on to the next subject. What an odd thing to say, I thought, and what an odd reaction from the crowd. In other discussions throughout the day, the question of federal versus state enforcement was openly discussed in terms of what types of crimes state laws should cover versus what federal laws should cover, but nobody spoke of other crimes “clogging” the system or being included due to “political sensitivities.” This was a conference in which name-calling was being considered as, well, a federal crime. The question about rape had broken the mood of easy conviviality, for a moment, until it was forgotten. And I put it in the back on my mind as well, until that moment in the parking lot in Alabama when the stranger checking my oil lamented that Mattie Wesson’s killer hadn’t needed to rape the old woman, that Mattie Wesson’s rape wasn’t necessary.
The Problem of “Too Many Rapes”
If hate crimes policy were crafted by the type of people you find sharing quarts of beer in parking lots off interstates in western Alabama (where, arguably, it ought to be), then Mattie Wesson’s rape might come to be considered a crime of hate. But by the time she was brutally raped and murdered, the leaders of the hate crimes movement, a coalition of non-profit organizations and elected officials, had already decided that rapes of women must never count as gender bias hate crimes at either the state or federal level. This was a decision made quietly, behind closed doors, and evidence of the exclusion would not become clear until state laws began to be enforced and state data collected. Only by default, through analyzing the crimes that are prosecuted as bias crimes, is it possible to show that the category “gender bias” has been designated for use almost exclusively in cases involving transsexual or transvestite victims.
Other abuse of non-transvestite, non-transsexual women, from verbal intimidation to murder, is likewise completely and quietly excluded from hate crimes enforcement. This exclusion begins at the highest level of administration of these laws, in hate crime trainings for police officers and prosecutors administered through federal and state grants and conducted by the non-governmental, non-profit Simon Wiesenthal Center, Anti-Defamation League, and also in internal trainings conducted by law enforcement agencies.
With the exception of Carla Arranaga, whom I will discuss later in this chapter, I have not found one elected official, official non-profit representative, or Office of Justice Programs representative who has been willing to speak with me on the record about policy regarding hate crimes and rape since 1998. One trainer at the Simon Wiesenthal Center told me that the question of rape as a hate crime “always comes up,” when they’re training police officers and prosecutors but that the Center doesn’t “put it in writing, it’s not part of our curriculum.” She said the trainers address rape verbally, during the “Q and A” period instead. However, she would say no more about what was discussed. Not long after that conversation, the woman’s supervisor, Sunny Lee, called me and told me that the trainer had no authority to speak about the Center’s trainings and that, furthermore, the Center does not play an official role in setting policy. “I am flattered you think we are so important,” she told me, “but we just teach tolerance.”
In fact, the Wiesenthal Center does train police and prosecutors. As noted prominently on their website, they have brought their Task Force Against Hate training program to cities throughout the country. In 2000, the U.S. Department of Justice cited the Simon Wiesenthal Center’s National Institutes Against Hate Crimes program as a “best practices” program for “training and support for law enforcement professionals.” The DOJ “best practices” report noted that, by the end of the four-day seminar, each “multidisciplinary team of law enforcement professionals” attending the training “has developed a comprehensive, coordinated plan for addressing hate crimes in its community.” What is said about rape, however, is something I could not discover, despite written requests and phone conversations.
Public explanations for choosing to exclude women as victims from the “gender bias” category of hate crime victims hardly run longer than Clinton’s offhanded comment at the 1997 teleconference: rape is not counted as a gender bias crime against women because too many women are raped; other gender-based attacks, from verbal abuse, to “hate speech” and “hate vandalism,” to physical assaults directed at random women are likewise not counted.
Certainly, counting them would bring the criminal justice system to a grinding halt. As Senator Orrin Hatch said in 1999, in response to a question about adding “gender bias” to bias crime laws in the states, “if you put gender in there it’s a real problem because then all rapes would be a hate crime.” He didn’t even mention lesser crimes motivated by gender. And indeed, counting even a fraction of the hundreds of thousands of sexual attacks committed each year – for example, the 10,000 or so committed by strangers – let alone counting the verbal slurs, subway groping, and violent sexist graffiti – would more than obscure the few thousand mostly minor incidents identified as bias committed against ethnic minorities, religious minorities and gays, particularly gay men.
Certainly, nobody would ever argue that there are too many gay-bashings or cross-burnings or synagogue defacements to count them as hate crimes, but this is precisely what is said about rape, and it is said with a casual air that reveals the authority these activists feel in deciding what is and is not urgent in the fight against prejudice and violence in American life. It ought to have been embarrassing to be caught saying this. But the leaders of the hate crimes movement have suffered no such embarrassment. Instead, they’ve successfully deflected attention from the subject, so successfully that even activists working within the movement are completely unaware that there ever was a controversy over “too many rapes.” Many (I would argue, most) of these activists, as well as journalists and ordinary people, also know nothing about the peculiar way their leaders solved this problem, a solution which depends, to an extraordinary degree, on disturbing stereotypes about rape itself.
What the leaders of the hate crimes movement have done is decreed (not “in writing” but definitely in practice) that rapes can be counted as hate crimes only if the rapist displays some other bias in addition to bias against women — that is, if in the course of selecting his victim or committing the assault, a rapist displays prejudice against gays, whites, blacks, Jews, Asians, or even, as in one case charged as a hate crime in Ohio, against Amish people. That rapists are displaying animosity toward women, first by selecting them for such “unnecessary” assaults, then by attacking the part of their bodies that literally makes them female, is thus rendered normative, a part of the background from which other prejudices may arise, but not, in itself, evidence of gender-based hatred toward women.
For example, in August 2000, serial rapist Mark Anthony Lewis was charged with eight counts of hate crimes in Chicago after being identified as the assailant nine rapes. Lewis, who is black, was charged with ethnic bias toward Asians: seven of his victims were Asian women. He was also charged with anti-Asian ethnic bias hate crime in the rape of a Hispanic woman whom he mistakenly believed was Asian. But his rape of the ninth woman, a white Serbian immigrant, didn’t count as a hate crime. Also, none of the rapes were counted as gender bias crimes, even though Lewis was clearly seeking out one woman after another to victimize. During the trial, Asian leaders spoke to the press about the fear that Lewis had spread throughout the Asian community. “It was important to emphasize why the hate crimes laws were there,” said Tuyet Le, a member of the Illinois Asian Hate Crimes Network.
What does it really mean that Lewis was charged with anti-Asian bias crime and was not charged with anti-female gender bias crime? According to the Department of Justice-funded publication, A Local Prosecutor’s Guide for Responding to Hate Crimes, bias crime charges are therapeutic: they show concern for all members of the group purportedly being targeted by a criminal act against one member of that group (unless that group is women). “Bias- or hate-motivated incidents and crimes can have a serious impact not only on the victim but also on those who share his or her characteristics because they have been singled out as a result of inherent characteristics and robbed of self-esteem.” Whom was Lewis singling out? Lewis raped non-Asian women, and other women had plenty of reason to fear the presence of a serial rapist on a tear. Despite being part of the Asian community, however, Asian men did not really have to fear being sexually assaulted by Lewis.
Asian women had reasons to fear of Lewis, but they also had reason to fear being targeted by any number of other serial rapists stalking women in Chicago in 2000. How do you differentiate the fear based on ethnicity from the fear women experience because of the prevalence of rape, which, more than any other crime, is committed by members of one group (men) and perpetrated against the members of another (women)? Hate crimes laws, as they were applied in the case of Mark Anthony Lewis, told at best an incomplete truth. To condemn Lewis only for ethnic hatred was to erase the fact that the rapes he committed were intended to terrorize and humiliate his victims in a very specific way: as women. The way hate crime charges were applied to his crimes also meant that one of his rapes, the rape of a white woman, did not carry as severe a sentence as the rapes committed against Asian women. Repulsively, and ominously for modern American jurisprudence, hate crime laws literally codified a lesser status to that victim of an identical crime.
The year 2000 was a sexually dangerous one for the women of Chicago. Among the hundreds of other women raped in Chicago that year, none were considered victims of hate crimes, not even those who were beaten, slashed or burned by their rapists, not the ones who were raped by gangs of men acting in unison, like a lynch mob, nor the women strangled and raped and left for dead by the side of the road like Matthew Shepard. Mark Anthony Lewis was charged with hate in Chicago, but rapist-torturer Patrick Sykes was not, even though Sykes poured roach killer into the eyes and throat of one of his rape victims, leaving her blind, and beat her so severely that the nine-year old suffered brain damage and was expected to never speak or walk again.
In Georgia, Renaldo Javier Rivera confessed to raping and killing four women and raping at least 150 others, but these torture-killings and rapes weren’t counted as gender bias hate crimes in the federal statistics nor cited as such by anyone in the media or the Georgia General Assembly as they contemplated hate crime legislation. New York State had a hate crimes law, but the rape-murders committed there by Arohn Kee were not counted as hate crimes or called hate in the media even though he doused one of his victims with gasoline and set her body on fire, and strangled, stabbed and sodomized three other women and girls.
What the leaders of the hate crimes movement were saying is this: choose to humiliate and torture a gay man or black man, and you have committed a hate crime. Choose to humiliate and violate and torture a woman, and you have not.
How Many Rapes Are “Too Many Rapes”?
Hate crimes activists weren’t incorrect when they said that counting rapes of women would transform their movement. In 1999, according to the FBI’s Uniformed Crime Report, 383,170 women were the victims of rape, attempted rape or sexual assault. In the same year, the FBI reported a total of 9,301 hate crime offenses. Of those, 3,082 were crimes against property; 3,268 were incidents of verbal intimidation, and another 1,766 were simple assaults, or crimes that involve some physical contact, such as shoving or punching, but negligible injury or physical threat. Only 1,143 of reported hate crime incidents were crimes against persons that might resemble to the severity of those 383,170 sexual assaults.
Women’s advocates and hate crimes advocates alike would argue that the FBI’s data tends to underestimate the actual number of crimes. But no amount of debate over the phenomenon of victim underreporting (are there six times as many victims of rape; ten times as many hate crime victims?) may obscure the enormous gap between a few thousand mostly nonviolent annual hate crimes and hundreds of thousands of rape and sexual assaults. In 1999, reported sex crimes were 41 times more common than all hate crimes combined and 335 times more common than physically violent incidents of hate. “Counting rape” certainly would obscure other hateful acts, particularly the two-thirds of such crimes that involve vandalism or verbal assault.
This activity of quantifying crimes as “hate” or “not hate” is discomfiting. But the intense focus on counting or excluding different types of victimization emerges from the culture of the hate crimes movement itself. When President Clinton and Senator Hatch observed that there were too many rapes to count rape as hate crime, what they were actually saying was that counting rape, not to mention all the lesser types of offenses directed at women, including street harassment, sexist graffiti, and simple assaults, would unquestionably turn the hate crimes movement into an anti-gender bias movement with the main focus on male behavior against women. Little wonder that in 1997, at the White House Hate Crimes Conference, the left-leaning activists of the hate crimes movement greeted the mere suggestion that such a thing might occur with anxious silence.
Throughout the 1990’s, as more states passed state-level hate crimes laws, resistance to using the gender-bias category to prosecute crimes committed against women remained remarkably consistent from state to state. This systematic exclusion of women as victims of the gender bias category was not the result of legislative credo or public debate, nor is this interpretation of hate crime law expressed in the language of the laws themselves. Bias statutes are so vague that an unprecedented industry of “trainers” and “educators” has sprung up to explain to prosecutors and police precisely what these laws are supposed to mean – or not mean. Such explanations regularly run to several pages, with supplemental lists of “bias indicators” to cue police to the presence of a bias motivation when it is not the entire motivation for the crime, only part of the criminal’s intent. This explains the existence of crimes like “bias motivated motor vehicle theft,” in which it would admittedly be difficult to gauge the percentage of motivation arising from wanting to steal a car versus the motivation to express some prejudice through car theft.
Within this broadly suggestive universe, and within a social movement known for factionalism, it is remarkable that the official line on hate crimes and rape has held so long. I suspect the reason is as Orrin Hatch inadvertently expressed it: if you count one rape, you must count them all, so none must be counted at all.
Until the mid-1990’s, the problem of “too many rapes” was kept at bay simply by excluding gender bias from hate crimes laws, a strategy that angered some feminist activists, but not so much so that they would dare to risk accusations of being insensitive toward racism or homophobia by asserting too loudly that gender bias is no less significant, in cause or effect, than those types of prejudice. Feminists who wish to keep on in progressive politics learn early to suppress such urges.
Women who raised the subject of rape were told to wait for another day, or they were told that rape already carried enhanced penalties (but all aggravated offenses do), or that rape was about dominance and dominance was different from hate, or even that no rapes should be counted as hate crimes because some rape victims knew their attackers (which was also true in many hate crime cases). At the same time, they were being told that rape actually is a hate crime against women but it couldn’t be counted as one because there are too many rapes. Women who asked about rape were told absolutely anything, and often contradictory things, because the Anti-Defamation League and other organizations in the Coalition on Hate Crimes Prevention (including the Center for Democratic Renewal, the NAACP, the Southern Poverty Law Center, the American Civil Liberties Union and the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force) had no intention of ever counting rapes as gender bias hate crimes. At the same time, they saw no need to acknowledge their position. In fact, it was through never admitting an official position on rape that these activists have been so successful in keeping rapes, or any other acts of gender- motivated violence directed at women, from being counted as gender bias crimes anywhere in the United States.
By the mid-1990’s the hate crimes movement had grown into a significant political force, and media outlets were beginning to use the language of the movement in reporting certain crimes as crimes of hate. The public’s perception of gay bashing, in particular, was transformed by activism and press coverage that linked these crimes to historic acts of violence directed at Jews and blacks. Elected officials who previously would have never voted for any law containing the words “sexual orientation” stepped up to condemn such violence, and state legislatures around the country passed hate crimes laws and added new categories of bias victims to laws already on the books. As passage of these laws became an increasingly popular organizing tool, one of the categories often added was gender bias. In 1991, only a few states listed “gender” as a protected victim category; by 1999, 19 states included gender bias in their laws. Feminist organizations that had championed the causes of hate crimes laws for their gay and minority members celebrated the hate crimes movement’s recognition of violence against women.
But inclusion, in this case, was not what it appeared to be. Although only one federal law explicitly prohibits rape from being counted as a crime of gender bias (and this exclusion is buried away in the U.S.S.C. addendum to the law itself, which covers bias in federal parks and reservations), this prohibition has become an unwritten part of every state-level law governing bias crime. Rapists have been charged under state bias crimes laws for choosing to rape women who are white, black, Asian, Amish and gay, but the crime they were charged with was racial, ethnic, or sexual orientation bias, not gender bias. By 1999, none of the 19 states that included gender bias in their hate-crimes laws had used these laws to prosecute rape unless the rapist displayed a prejudice against a certain ethnic, religious or racial group, or against lesbians, transvestites, transgender, or gay people.
Six years later, as of this writing, there had not been even one hate crime prosecution on the grounds of gender bias in a rape case in any state. Rapists who stalk and assault one heterosexual woman after another, even serial killers who torture and kill scores of women, have nothing to fear from hate crime laws. This is a shadow policy, nowhere codified yet everywhere obeyed: without one word about excluding rape as gender bias, this exclusion has become the unquestioned status quo.
And if rape doesn’t count as a gender-based hate crime against women, what does? The answer is that, in practice, nothing does. None of the 1,325 incidents prosecuted as hate crimes in New Jersey in 1997, for example, involved charges of gender bias, and a mere handful of gender-bias cases involving female victims have been tried in other states. In fact, the majority of gender-bias incidents reported in the entire United States have occurred in one of two counties in Michigan, and state police statisticians reported that they believed they might be isolated coding errors. Elsewhere it appears that the few gender-bias cases in the statistics do not even involve female victims, but transvestites: in 1999, the first year California began prosecuting gender-bias cases, all 13 such cases tried in that state involved violent crimes committed, not against women, but against men who were dressed as women when they were assaulted.
It would seem to defy all odds that the only people subjected to violent sexism would not be women at all, but men dressed to look like women, while biological women roamed free of such threats. Of course, women in California were not free from the danger of assault; attacks of women simply weren’t counted as hate. In 1999, 9,443 women in California reported a rape. Yet not one of those crimes was viewed as a hate crime by the police, by prosecutors, or by the activists in California’s very substantial hate crimes movement.
The same prosecution pattern exists in every state that counts gender bias in its hate crimes law. Between 1991 and 1999, what the leaders of the hate crimes movement did to solve the problem of “too many rapes” was use their status as trainers and consultants for the Justice Department to spread the message that, even if gender bias was to be included in hate crime laws, rapes should not be investigated as gender bias crimes when the victims are women, and no other crimes were to be counted as hate if the victim was targeted for being a woman.
Had this policy been the subject of public debate, it might have proven very unpopular. But there was no such debate: how do you debate a policy when nobody will admit that it exists in the first place?
The Code of Silence
In 1999, after thinking about Mattie Wesson’s terrible death, I began asking questions about hate crimes laws. Why were only a handful of rapes being prosecuted as hate crimes? Why were these rapes prosecuted as racial hate crimes or sexual orientation hate crimes, but never as gender bias crimes? Why weren’t hate crime laws being used to prosecute serial rapists, gang rapists, and rapist-murderers who tortured and killed one female victim after another? Could it possibly be true that, among the tens of thousands of rapists who have attacked women in states where gender bias is against the law, not a single one of them has used sexist slurs during any of these tens of thousands of rapes? Could absolutely nobody in any of these states have ever come to the conclusion that attacking a woman’s sexual organs might constitute hatred or bias toward women in and of itself? I did not find answers to these questions.
In 1996, the Anti-Defamation League (ADL) announced that it had changed its position on hate crimes and women and would heretofore include gender bias in its widely used model hate crimes legislation. The ADL barely commented on their policy change when they instituted it in 1996. But three years later, in a publication titled 1999 Hate Crimes Laws, the ADL directly addressed their decision to add gender bias to their model hate crimes legislation. Where elsewhere, the League’s rhetoric on hate crimes runs to urgent condemnation of the “rising tide of hate,” on the subject of hate crimes directed at women, they displayed a very different tone:
Clearly not all crimes against women are gender-based crimes, and prosecutors have discretion in identifying those crimes which (sic) should be prosecuted as hate crimes. Prosecutors also must have concrete admissible evidence of bias to charge an individual with commission of a hate crime. Even in cases where gender bias can be proven, prosecutors may decide that the penalty imposed by the underlying crime is in itself sufficient and penalty enhancement is therefore unnecessary.
This is not the type of statement the League makes when discussing hate crimes committed against gays, blacks, or the Jewish community: in the face of such crimes, their message is always one of demanding an urgent response. Furthermore, to reassure readers that there must be “concrete, admissible evidence of bias” before a gender bias charge may be levied implies that women are likely to levy vague, and even unfounded, charges of gender bias, a claim that echoes allegations that women are prone to lie about rape. Finally, to state that prosecutors don’t necessarily need to use hate crimes laws in every case where gender bias is present signals a resistance to including “gender bias” at all; the use of the word, “unnecessary” underscores the tone of grudging disdain.
The writers offer additional crude, prejudiced reassurances to hate crime activists who worry about an onslaught of gender-bias crimes:
After studying the [state] statutes in which gender is included, ADL came to the conclusion
that the inclusion of gender has not overwhelmed [italic added] the reporting system, nor has it distracted [italic added] the criminal justice system from vigorous action against traditional hate-based crimes.
It is difficult to interpret this statement as a real commitment to the notion that even some rapes and other crimes against women should be conceptualized as hate crimes. The ADL advises government employees such as police and prosecutors on the implementation of hate crimes laws, so their opinion regarding the inclusion of women matters a great deal. But perhaps the most troubling part of this statement lies in the final sentence, which reassures readers that “there [have] not been an overwhelming number of gender-based crimes reported.” As police and prosecutors are specifically instructed by hate crime trainers such as the ADL to not count violence against women as hate, it is not surprising that “overwhelming” numbers of such crimes failed to surface in police reports and court dockets. This statement betrays a deep and institutional contempt for women who are victims of violent crimes, motivated by an interest in achieving a desired statistical outcome.
Yet, despite great efforts by movement leaders to avoid all discussions of rape, the subject haunts the hate crimes movement. It surfaces incessantly in the language of activists and professionals as they grapple for the best way to explain precisely what a hate crime looks like to the observer and feels like to the victim. “It’s like rape” is the explanation when other words fail them. In 1985, Representative Raymond J. McGrath of New York testified before a House subcommittee that vandalism at a synagogue in his district left the synagogue’s rabbi, David Artz, feeling that the building itself had been “raped.” McGrath quoted Rabbi Artz’s description of the pain caused by the vandals: “I knew that somebody, some sick crazy, who knows what, had taken these prayer books, at that moment, I actually felt the room moan. It had been violated. It had been raped. It was lying there burning slowly, violated.”
Criminologists at the Department of Justice likewise resorted to using the rape of women as an explanatory device for describing hate crimes in their own publications. On the first page of the Department’s manual for training law enforcement officers to identify and report hate crimes, the authors describe victims’ responses to these crimes as being “like rape victims”:
Law enforcement officers must be particularly skillful in responding in such a way that the trauma of the victim and the community is not exacerbated by a lack of sensitivity in
the law enforcement response. Like rape victims, victims of hate crimes suffer possible serious and long-lasting traumatic stress which could be increased by an inappropriate law enforcement response.
Victims of hate crimes respond to these crimes, the experts tell us, in precisely the same way that rape victims respond to rape. What they do not tell us, here or elsewhere, is why rape is not therefore prima facie a hate crime in these experts’ eyes. If breaking into a synagogue and setting fire to prayer books — making ashes of prayers — is said to desecrate the body of the synagogue like raping it, then why is not breaking into a woman’s body, desecrating her womanhood, a crime of hate against her as well?
In A Policymaker’s Guide to Hate Crimes, the Department of Justice uses rape to explain the effects of hate crimes again, this time to talk about the problem of victim underreporting. “Some victims,” the authors write, “refuse to report a bias-motivated crime because they consider it a degrading personal experience, like a rape, and feel that filing a report will leave them exposed to further humiliation.” Hate crimes are degrading like rape, traumatizing like rape, embarrassing and even frightening to report like rape; according to the experts whose job it is to explain hate crimes, the best way to understand what should be though of as a crime of hate may be to close your eyes and think of a woman being raped.
This is no accident of semantics. Research done on rape victims produced the very model of victimization from which definitions of hate crimes evolved. The earliest psychological research on post-traumatic stress disorder, which is widely described as an effect of hate crimes, was research performed on Vietnam Veterans and female victims of rape. Likewise, anti-violence campaigns by gay and lesbian groups starting in the 1980’s were modeled on feminist Violence Against Women campaigns; nevertheless, the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force joined with the Anti-Defamation League and other civil rights groups to keep violence ‘against women from being counted as hate. Maybe a better way to understand hate crimes is to think of rape and imagine the crime being committed against anyone but a heterosexual woman. What they’re doing comes disturbingly close to saying that it’s normal if you treat a woman or a child that way.
On the evening news, stories about rape are accompanied by a graphic of the international sign of womanhood with a crack running through it. This image is shorthand for the act of sexual violation: a woman’s body, whole and round, is split open by violence. This symbol also serves as a warning directed at other women, as surely as three intertwined circles represent the warning for dangerous levels of radioactivity. News anchors report this danger in a manner reminiscent of a weather report: women should avoid walking alone at night, avoid such and such part of town, be wary if they must wait alone for a bus to take them home from work. And of course, women must be careful in their apartments if they live alone; in their autos if they drive alone, in parking lots and in nightclubs and when they go outside to exercise. We accept such warnings as an ordinary part of life. But that doesn’t make them any less disturbing. No matter how much we naturalize them and minimize the meaning of these messages, they still relay the same unpalatable truth: we expect half the population to limit their lives simply because they are women.
In contemporary America, it wouldn’t be acceptable for any group other than women to be called upon to give up freedom of movement because of their identities. If gay men were told not to jog alone in Central Park, or if Jewish men were told they should only use public transportation in groups of two or more after dark, scandal would erupt. If the YWCA felt the need to offer special self-defense classes to young black men living or working alone, we would call the threat lying behind this need intolerable. But sexual danger directed at women is considered such an ordinary part of life that, rather than protest it, we tolerate it and manage it, largely by shifting responsibility for preventing attacks to women themselves.
None of this is news: in fact, the very immutability of sexual danger is what makes it so difficult to articulate as a social problem, let alone an urgent justice issue. Rape, like domestic violence and child abuse, needs to be “managed” because there are so many victims that it would be morally implausible to do otherwise: if you cannot eradicate the violence that lies at the root, you must at least remove the victims to a safer place, which is why the first business of feminist anti-violence campaigns was to create shelters, rape crisis centers and domestic violence shelters and emergency hotlines for calling for help. Such establishments, despite their intentions and the services they provide, are tributes to a failure: they represent the latitude and longitude of gender violence as surely as refugee camps dotting international borders represent failures to overcome ethnic and political violence.
But despite the reality that the phone book in every city and sizeable town opens with a list of shelters and rape crisis centers, whose clients are overwhelmingly, and sometimes exclusively women, and despite universal cognition that a cracked “female symbol” symbolizes rape, many advocates within the hate crimes movement assert that rape has nothing at all to do with gender, or with sexism, or with any difference between the social status of women and men. Los Angeles County Deputy District Attorney Carla Arranaga, one of the hate crimes movement’s most celebrated prosecutors, says that, contrary to what feminists have been saying for thirty years, rape has nothing to do with gender; therefore, rapes of women should not be counted as hate crimes.
As the head of the Hate Crimes Suppression Unit in Los Angeles in 1999, Arranaga acted on this belief every day, as she found no evidence of gender bias in any of the 2,000 rapes or attempted rapes that were committed in the City of Los Angeles that year. At the time that we spoke during that year, Arranaga was lead prosecutor for the Hate Crimes Suppression Unit in Los Angeles County; she also served on the Advisory Council of the Simon Weisenthal National Institute Against Hate Crimes, and she drafted parts of A Local Prosecutor’s Guide for Responding to Hate Crimes, the nationally-distributed training manual funded by a grant from the Department of Justice. In 1999, she represented the United States in an address to the United Nations Human Rights Commission, where she spoke about creating educational curricula for law enforcement officers with the support of the Department of Justice, the Clinton Administration, and the Simon Weisenthal Museum of Tolerance in Los Angeles. She has received recognition and many honors for her “trailblazing” work developing hate crimes protocol for prosecutors and police.
What Arranaga thinks about hate crimes clearly matters. In comments to the press and to advocacy groups, she has said that evidence of bias crime can be as little as “derogatory words” uttered by the assailant in the commission of any crime. She describes five types of hate crimes offenders, including “thrill seekers,” “reactive” offenders who feel intimidated by those they attack, and “mission offenders,” a group which according to her, includes men who “protect against crimes against the gender” by attacking gay men or men who dress like women. These assailants, Arranaga says, “enforce” their masculinity against those who threaten gender stereotypes. But this definition, according to Arranaga, does not apply to men who sexually assault heterosexual, biological women. In Carla Arranaga’s vision of hate crimes, it is violent prejudice to attack a man dressed as a woman because men dressed as women anger you, but attacking a woman because women inspire sexualized rage is not prejudice at all. “Gender is not the motive for rape,” Arranaga told me in July, 2000, “men get raped and women rape.”
Of course, not all victims of rape are women, particularly in cases of child-rape. Men are raped in prison; gay men are raped by both other gay men and by heterosexuals, and even non-incarcerated, adult, heterosexual men are, very rarely, sexual victims. But the existence of men who have been raped does not make raping women (or for that matter men) any less a gendered act, just as the existence of anti-Christian violence does not somehow cast the specific harm of anti-Semitism into doubt. The existence of rape in prisons, where the men being raped are often not-so-subtly recast as humiliated females does not make the individual rapist outside of prison any less driven by the desire to humiliate and violate women’s bodies. The inherent gender-bias of the act is reinforced by prison rape, where, in the absence of women to victimize, some men create “substitute” women victims through the very act of raping other men.
Before there were hate crimes laws, the contradiction between the way we “manage” violence against women and protest violence against other groups of people could be viewed as a simple cultural reality, an unfortunate, but not intentional, fact of life. By passing laws that explicitly differentiate between crimes that threaten people with similar identities and crimes that do not, however, the hate crimes movement has institutionalized this difference, and the choice they made to exclude rapes of women from hate crimes protections sanctions an entirely new form of denial regarding rape. Now when the shattered “woman” symbol appears on the evening news, unaccompanied by the media hype and intensive law enforcement efforts attached to incidents that are called hate crimes, the message being delivered to women is this: exercise caution because you may be attacked because you are a woman, but do not presume that this means women are being targeted because they are female.
Maintaining the boundaries of this fiction is a stress for the hate crime movement’s leadership, particularly because they so often find themselves resorting to rape as an explanatory model for hate crime. The cracked “female symbol” symbolizing rape on the evening news is like a timer ticking down to a day when the movement’s ideological contradictions are aired in public. Meanwhile, however, the exclusion of women goes unchallenged, and it has become literally part of the fabric of the hate crimes movement, replicated in trainings, repeated when convenient, denied when necessary. This is the essence of cultural power: to be understood without having to even say what you mean.
The Other Assaults in Central Park
“Well, thank God for videos,” Patricia Ireland said to journalist Paula Zahn. She was speaking of the assaults in New York’s Central Park following the June 2000 Puerto Rican Day parade, where dozens of women were surrounded by men who threw them on the pavement, tore off their clothes, and groped their genitals. A horrified bystander videotaped some of the mob scene; other footage was filmed by the attackers themselves and later seized as police evidence. Ireland was thankful for the videos because, already, just days after the sexual assaults, naysayers of every stripe were emerging to explain away the violent scenes by talking about the behavior of some of the women in the park, or the ongoing standoff
between minorities and the New York Police Department in the long wake of the Amadu Diallo shooting, or the hysteria of “privileged” white New Yorkers, or even the influence of the day’s unseasonable heat.
By the time the story broke nationally, the buzz surrounding it had surmounted the assaults themselves; commentators and pundits viewing the videotapes saw in them any story they chose to see. Mostly, what they saw was yet another racial incident in Central Park, although this time the victims were not all white: this wolf pack indiscriminately engulfed blacks, whites and Puerto Ricans. That the victims of a mass sex crime were all women was self-evident, and thus not worth discussing. That fifty women had been mauled in broad daylight simply did not seem to be the point.
Some bystanders and even victims seemed to be struggling to find words to express the difference between what had happened in the Park and what happens to women routinely. “I grew up here, but this was the worst I’ve ever seen in New York,” said one woman who witnessed the assaults. One of the men who rescued fitness instructor, Anne Peyton Bryant, from a throng of attackers was heard to say, “This is too much,” as he reached for her, as if fewer assailants, or less groping, would constitute a completely different scene. The police in Central Park that day did not even respond to pleas from women who had just been attacked and were begging them to prevent attacks on other women.
“You’ve been sexually assaulted. You should come back tomorrow when you’ve calmed down,” Bryant was told by the third group of officers to whom she appealed for help.
Sexual abuse of women, from name-calling, to public groping, to assault, is so familiar as to have its own cartography, a moving map each woman carries in her mind as she traverses subway steps and apartment hallways and parking lots. The victims in Central Park spoke familiarly of escape plans and logistics and evading male attention, as if, instead of roller-blading and enjoying the sun, they had actually been conducting maneuvers through enemy territory. “We aimed for the side of the park, me in front and Stephanie behind, assuming the guys would be too busy bothering some other women to notice us, ” said one victim who failed to escape the mob. “I will never again leave my house to participate in a Thanksgiving Day parade or any large event that is part of the culture of New York,” cried Anne Bryant. “If I put 10,000 cops in Central Park, we couldn’t cover every single area,” observed Police Commissioner Howard Safir, tacitly endorsing the notion that women should learn to be smarter prey.
When commentators speak of mass sexual assaults on women as “wildings,” “whirlpoolings” (sex attacks in public pools) and “trains,” they unconsciously inherit a terminology invented by the assailants themselves, a language designed to celebrate sexual invincibility and mob mentality. Members of the press are particularly fond of categorizing crimes this way, because it is dramatic, and, in our crime-saturated culture, the way the media views a crime largely shapes the way the public, and even police respond to it. The assaults in Central Park did not become a “story” because women were attacked: it became a story because the numbers of women were so high, the location was so public, and videotapes recorded the crimes. Women are raped in New York City every single day: sexual assault and harassment are so ubiquitous that nobody is surprised when men videotape the breasts and buttocks of strange women walking down a street, and there are countless slang terms derived from popular songs to describe the act of reducing women to sexual prey: “booty calls,” “thongings,” and “money shots.” Some of these sayings can be heard on the Central Park videotapes, along with other, more familiar refrains. “Get the bitches,” men are yelling, “get them, get them, get them.”
Yet despite the clarity of a videotaped record, there were still people who did not view the assaults of these women as a matter of injustice, let alone gender bias. The assailants themselves can be heard calling the women “sluts” as they pin them down and bitches as they fondle them, and there is no incongruity in this for them: on the videos these men look happy and proud; they are laughing and not hiding their actions. The police officers in the park even refused to respond to cries for help, as did the Police Commissioner and Mayor Giuliani, until they saw the writing on the wall that the story was becoming too large to manage with press releases about dropping crime rates. But even after Police Commissioner Safir and Mayor Giuilani changed their tune from speaking of dwindling crime statistics to expressing outrage, U.S.A. Today columnist Amy Holmes looked at those tapes and did not see an outrage against women.
Amy Holmes looked at the videotapes and saw women laughing as strange men yelled at them and sprayed them with water. In her column, she grudgingly admits that “some women cursed their harassers and fled,” and that “[o]thers were pushed down, stripped bare, assaulted and utterly terrorized.” But these women were not of interest to Amy Holmes: what interested her were the young women wearing tight clothes who smiled as the men sprayed water at them, the ones who (notoriously: this scene was replayed on the news again and again) ran the gauntlet of eager men who were chanting already, though not hurting anyone or holding them down — yet. The mere existence of these young women was proof enough, for Amy Holmes, that society at large, and, by extension, all the women attacked in the park, were responsible for the violence that befell them.
“Public commentary and official reaction have paid little attention to what actually was tolerated that day by many of the young women in the park,” Holmes complains. What is striking about her perspective is how closely it aligned with that of the rapists themselves; she could not see the distinction between innuendo and violence. But even if Amy Holmes couldn’t see the difference between condoning tacky horseplay and being sexual assaulted, no woman in the park that day had such doubts.
“I had no reason to feel afraid, especially when all these police [were] here,” said college senior Josina Lawrence. The next thing she knew, she said, too many men to count were attacking her. Ashanna Cover added, “[t]hey [were] trying to dig in between my legs. They — they ripped the crotch to my shorts. I could feel them on my flesh trying to penetrate me with their fingers.”
Not all of this is visible on the tapes, either, but there are waves of victims and witnesses to confirm it and film of women emerging from the crowds of men half naked and dazed, as if they have been swallowed up into another world and spat out again. If testosterone and booze and soaring temperatures and male bonding drove some men in the park into a frenzy of aggression, their assaults drove their victims to a state of physiological shock, the hallmark of “real” victimization. “You’ve been sexually assaulted. You should come back tomorrow when you’ve calmed down,” said one police officer to Anne Peyton.
On the same day that the 50 women were sexually violated in Central Park, seven Hassidic Jews were assaulted in Coney Island by a group of Hispanic men who mugged them at knifepoint. This crime was immediately declared a hate crime on the grounds that the assailants had shouted anti-Semitic slurs at their Jewish victims while mugging them and stealing their wallets.
That assault, and the hate crime charge, was all that was reported in the papers. Of course, there was no video, but even if there had been, and even if the film had shown the male victims behaving in a careless way — say by straying onto an unlit portion of the beach — it’s still highly unlikely that Amy Holmes would write a column for USA Today suggesting that these men, being aware of the existence of muggers and anti-Semitism in the world, should know better than to walk on a deserted beach at night. Dateline would not dedicate a program to interviewing psychologists who dissected the day’s heat or the drunkenness of the assailants or the choices the men made in not concealing their religious garb.
“Monkey see, monkey do,” was the way one sociologist on Dateline explained the behavior of the men in Central Park, a particularly unfortunate choice of words, not merely for the implied racial slur, but because it bolstered the notion that holding women down and “digitally penetrating” them is a playful, innocent thing to do. “Young women have to be consistent,” the sociologist concluded, ignoring the fact, which should not matter anyway, that most of the women assaulted in the park had not engaged in pre-violation flirtation with their attackers.
Nobody welcome in polite society today talks about Matthew Shepherd’s come-on in a bar as a justification for his brutal murder. However, it does beg a question: why is it still fine to talk about women this way, even if a few (and not all) of them wore halter tops to Central Park and laughed when strange men whistled at them and sprayed them with water? Logically, they shouldn’t be doing these things, and sociologically, there’s a great deal to be said about the culture under girding the boorish, sexist behavior that exploded in the park that day, but in the legal realm, shouldn’t sexual assault victims be reaping some of the benefits of our decade-old experiment with hate crimes laws?
But the opposite is happening, and perhaps it shouldn’t be surprising. Rape discomfits the hate crimes movement because it is a movement mired in a particular history, the history of lynching, a subject that summons visions of women lying about rape and minority men being punished for non-existent sexual assaults. Counting rape victims as victims of hate crime was something the movement’s founders never wanted to do.
The original drafters of hate crimes laws also did not envision using these laws to punish the teenager who mouths a slur in a drunken bar brawl or members of rival ethnic gangs engaging in turf wars: they envisioned using hate crimes laws to combat the much-touted “rising tide” of white supremacist violence supposedly sweeping the nation in the 1990’s. Things did not turn out this way. Far less than 1% of hate crimes prosecutions today involve perpetrators who have even the slimmest ties to a hate group. Yet the lynch mob remains the hate crimes movement’s central metaphor for hate. Visual symbols of the Klan — the hooded crowd, the burning cross — illustrate the movement’s web sites and fundraising brochures. Within this ideological framing, the subject of violence against women is treated at best with ambivalence, at worst with duplicity and contempt.
Much is at stake in defining which crimes are and are not crimes of hate, not only the money the federal government spends annually on “teaching tolerance” and other anti-hate crime trainings, but, more elementally, control over the energies of a large-scale social movement whose membership spans the Democratic Party and the progressive left. The notion of directing these energies toward anti-rape work is literally unthinkable to political activists who cut their teeth on both anti-Klan activism and the rights movement for criminal defendants.
Thus, the problems caused by rape are both symbolic and real: there are “too many” rapes and they are the wrong types of crimes, often with the wrong type of defendant, frequently a minority male, sometimes a gay man preying on men and boys. Among themselves, hate crimes activists voice concerns that too many minorities will be caught committing hate crimes, and admitting women victims to hate crimes protection would increase this fear. Being hard on crimes committed by minority men is clearly not the type of message the hate crimes movement wishes to send with these laws, even when so many of the victims are minorities themselves. And so, a quiet decision was made: keep women out, even at the cost of normalizing sexual violence when it is just done to a woman.
I wrote this essay in the early 2000s. The ensuing two decades have only reinforced what I was seeing in the enforcement protocols and statistics then. Every year, a handful of rape cases get counted and/or prosecuted (not always the same thing) as hate crimes. For example, in 2018, 22 rapes were counted as hate crimes by the FBI. Two were counted as Anti-Male Gender Bias, one as Anti-Transgender, and one as “Anti-Gender Non-Conforming.” Four were counted as Anti-Physical or Mental Disability, two as Anti-Gay male, one as Anti-Lesbian, one as Anti-Bisexual, and one as Anti-Heterosexual. Six were counted as Anti-White, two as Anti-Black, and one as Anti-Other-Ethnicity or Race.
None were counted as Anti-Female Bias Crimes.
So apparently, according to the hate crimes industry, among the other 139,368 rapes recorded in the 2018 FBI statistics, no sexist or sexual slurs or pejoratives were uttered during any one of those attacks; none caused fear among other people who shared the victim’s identity, none of the rapists attacked the part of the victim’s body that defined her as a woman, and none of the victims were selected for being female (or male, except the two men listed as such in the hate crimes statistics). We all know this is a ludicrous denial of both reality and of the victims’ suffering. It is also the perfect illustration of the serious harm done to our entire justice system by the existence of hate crime laws: by literally handing over the interpretation and enforcement protocols of these laws to unelected political activists who have behaved very deceptively with that power, we have abandoned our commitment to equal justice under the law. The only way to reinstate this cornerstone value is to repeal these laws in the states and at the federal level.
* * *
 For the Wesson case, see “Court Rules in Capital Murder Case from Montgomery,” The Associated Press State and Local Wire, 29 October 1999.
 The White House Conference on Hate Crimes, 10 November 1977. For a summary of the President’s remarks, see, http://clinton2,nara.gov/Initiatives/OneAmerica (accessed June 5, 2005).
 Employee of the Simon Weisenthal Center who identified herself as a “law enforcement trainer,” telephone conversation with the author, 8 August 2000.
 Sunny Lee, Program Manager, Training For Tolerance for Law Enforcement, telephone conversation with the author, 8 August 2000.
 http://www.wiesenthal.com/site/; Steven Wessler, Promising Practices Against Hate Crimes: Five State and Local Demonstration Projects, prepared for the U.S. Department of Justice, Office of Justice Programs, May 2000.
 Scott Holleran, “Middle of the Right; GOP Presidential Candidate Hatch Supports Hate Crime Laws, Free Market,” Daily News of Los Angeles, 19 December 1999.
 The rapist, Michael Vieth, was ultimately not convicted of hate crime, but members of the Amish community rallied against the judge’s decision to drop the religious-bias hate crime charge, and prosecutor John Matousek contended that, “[Vieth] not only raped [the victim], he raped the Amish community, and he raped our community.” Meg Jones, “Elroy Man’s Attacks on Amish are Not Hate Crimes, Judge Says; Vieth Could Get Parole in 15 Years After Rape of Monroe County Girl,” Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, 26 March 1996.
 Shu Shin Luh, “Serial Rapist Charged; 212 Counts Include 8 for Hate Crimes,” Chicago Sun-Times, 31 August 2000.
 American Prosecutor’s Research Institute (APRI), A Local Prosecutor’s Guide for Responding to Hate Crimes, sponsored by the Bureau of Justice Assistance, Office of Justice Programs, United States Department of Justice, 2000, p. 1.
 In sentencing Sykes, the judge said he wished he could impose a longer sentence, because “[Sykes} should remain in prison for the rest of his life,” which might not occur with a sentence of 120 years. Hate crime enhancement would have given the judge the ability to impose a longer sentence. Carlos Sadovi, “Girl X Attacker Gets 120 Years; Judge: I Don’t Believe Even This Sentence is Enough,” Chicago Sun-Times, 3 July 2001.
 Sandy Hodson, “Disturbing Details; Rivera Speaks Through Recordings in Columbia County Court, Officers Play Tape of Suspect Describing Killing, Raping Women,” The Augusta Chronicle, 28 February 2001; Michael Saul, “Killer Finally Says Sorry; Gets Max Sentence As Victim’s Kin Vent Their Rage,” New York Daily News, 27 January 2001.
 U.S. Department of Justice, Federal Bureau of Investigation, Uniform Crime Reports, 1999; U.S. Department of Justice, Federal Bureau of Investigation, Hate Crime Statistics, 1999.
 By “women,” I am referring to non-transvestite, non-transsexual, non-hermaphroditic, biologically born females, here and throughout.
 APRI, A Local Prosecutor’s Handbook, p. 7; For an extensive discussion of the “dual-motive” rule, see Ruben Castaneda, “Hate Crime Laws Rely on Motives, Not Targets,” Washington Post, 26 October, 1998.
 Carla Arranaga, then the Deputy in Charge of the Los Angeles District Attorney’s Office, Hate Crimes Division and a member of the advisory group that drafted the APRI’s Prosecutor’s Handbook, told the author that “rape is a crime of dominion and control, not hate,” and that “gender is not the motive for rape.” Carla Arranaga, interview with author, July 2000. For an interesting discussion of the lack of victim interchangeability” in non-stranger rape cases as an argument against counting any rapes as hate, see Steven Bennett Weisburd and Brian Levin, “‘On the Basis of Sex’: Recognizing Gender-Based Bias Crimes,” Stanford Law and Policy Review 5 (Spring 1994): 36 – 38.
 David Rosenberg and Michael Liberman, Hate Crime Laws, 1999, prepared for the Anti- Defamation League (New York, 1999), 2 – 3.
 18 USCS Appx § 3A1.1 (2000).
 In 1998 only 12 rapes were prosecuted as hate crimes in the United States: four were prosecuted as hate crimes against whites, four against blacks, two against lesbians, and one against a person with a mental disability. In Michigan, where gender bias is included in the hate crimes law, there were 3,206 rapes, but only two counted as hate crimes, and neither were counted as gender-bias rapes. In New Jersey, which has one of the most extensive hate crimes reporting systems in the nation, there were 1,730 rapes, but none were considered hate crimes. Minnesota and a handful of other states with gender bias laws didn’t even bother to include a category for gender bias in their otherwise comprehensive annual hate crime reports. For rape statistics, see FBI, Uniform Crime Reports, 1998. For hate crime statistics, see FBI, Hate Crime Statistics, 1998.
 In 2000, author spoke by telephone with several women at the Crime Statistics Bureau of the Michigan State Police. They hypothesized that some “Anti-Female” bias reports might actually be “Anti-Female Homosexual” reports, or simple coding errors. Michigan State Police, Hate/Bias Crime State Totals, 1999, http://www.michigan.gov/msp/, (accessed June 5, 2005).
 California Department of Justice, Division of Criminal Justice Information Services, Hate Crime in California, 1999.
 California Department of Justice, Division of Criminal Justice Information Services, Crime in California, 1999.
 Rosenberg and Liberman, Hate Crime Laws, 2 – 3.
 House Committee on the Judiciary, Crimes Against Religious Practices and Property, Testimony to Accompany H.R. 665, 99th Congress, 15. sess. 1985, 94.
 Department of Justice, Criminal Justice Information Services Division, Training Guide for Hate Crime Collection, 1990, 1.
 Department of Justice, Bureau of Justice Assistance, A Policvmaker’s Guide to Hate Crimes, 15.
 For biographical information, see: Carla Arranaga, Remarks to the United Nations Human Rights Commission, March 30, 1999, Geneva, Switzerland.
 Ken Howard, “Hate Crimes Victim Assistance,” Progress Notes, Newsletter of the Lesbian and Gay Psychotherapy Association, April, 1999.
 Arranaga, interview with author, July 2000
 Paula Zahn Interview With Patricia Ireland, Fox News: The Edge With Paula Zahn, 16 June 2000.
 Martin Mbugua, Michelle McPhee, Bill Hutchinson, “Central Park Terror; Gang of 15 Strips, Sexually Abuses 4 Women,” Daily News Online Edition, 12 June 2000.
 Jessica Graham, “Terror in Central Park,” New York Post, 13 June 2000.
 Michael Blood, “Giuliani’s Safe-City Claim Uses Incorrect Crime Stats,” New York Daily News, 13 June 2000.
 Molly Watson, “British Girl Left Naked in Central Park Attack,” The Evening Standard, 13 June 2000.
 Katie Couric, Stone Phillips, “A Witness to Terror: The Central Park Attacks,” Dateline NBC, 20 June 2000.
 Amy Holmes, USA Today, 2000.
 Couric, Phillips, “A Witness to Terror.”
 Graham, “Terror in Central Park.”
 “Attacks on Two Groups Marks Violent New York City Weekend,” Associated Press, 13 June 2000.
 Couric, Phillips, “A Witness to Terror.”