- February 1984, Claudine Cordani, 17, was kidnapped, tortured and raped by two men in Paris. She will be the first minor in France to ask for the closed session at the trial of her attackers, a year later. "Because it was not mine to be ashamed of," she explains in Justice in the Skin , which has just appeared.
- In this book, she returns to her visceral faith in justice, in the people who make it, and in many others, thanks to whom she managed to get through her trauma.
- The granelle of violence against women, the lifting of medical confidentiality, #MeToo, the shortcomings of journalism are all subjects that she was kind enough to address with 20 Minutes .
“A dirty story, which ended nicely at the assizes in Paris. In Justice in the Skin , Claudine Cordani returns to the rape in a meeting of which she was the victim on February 2, 1984. That evening, the 17-year-old girl, who returned home on foot in the 19th arrondissement of Paris , was approached by two men, who kidnapped her, tortured and raped her. She could have passed there. But she survived, became the first minor to ask for the closed session during the trial of her assailants at the assizes, a year later, and "decided to live the best so that it is not another wasted life ".
How, thanks to whom? This is what this early feminist, activist and ex-journalist, explains in her first self-published work at Bookelis.com. The latter mixes, in form, autobiography and journalistic work. And, in the background, a message of hope to the attention of all victims of violence: "Justice can be effective," she said at 20 Minutes , not without specifying: "From the moment we are told give the means. "
Your book has just been published (January 3). Why did you wait more than thirty years before talking about what happened to you?
There are several reasons. On February 2 [2020], it will be thirty-seven years since I was raped. Even if I had the courage to file a complaint, even if these people were tried and went to prison, writing today proves that there is no prescription in what we have lived and what that we can relate. That is why I am for the imprescriptibility in rape matters [currently, the limitation period is ten years from the moment when the offense was committed; in the case where the victim is a minor, it does not start to run until the latter is of full age, and its duration is twenty years]. It has taken me over 35 years to speak openly. It shows how much we, the victims, take perpetuity. At the time, my lawyer, Alain Mikoswski, advised me to tell what had happened to me. But, it was too early, I had not yet lived enough "after the rape".
This is what you indicate in your preface: “The hardest thing for me remains to be raped (…). But the most interesting is the rest. "
What do we do after a rape? How are we doing? How can society help us? Finally, this book had every interest in being written years later. Today it is legitimate. There is also the fact that I had a child, now a teenager, who has girlfriends, friends. And when I hear these young people say: "Oh la la, justice, I don't believe in it, I don't trust her at all", for me, it was not at all understandable. And then there was #MeToo, #NousToutes: something had been going on for two years in France, so it was time to talk. I was not the first to refuse my rapists behind closed doors so as not to make my contribution.
“I was very convinced that it was not my place to be ashamed. "
Why and how did you find the strength to ask for the closed session during the trial?
I have always been sensitive to the feeling of injustice. And I really trust the justice system: when faced with an offense, there is a judicial response. I knew that what these people had done was not normal. The answer, only justice could bring it. In his office, judge Jean-Pierre Getti explained to me how the trial was going to go and that he was going to be in camera. I asked her what it meant. He told me that the doors would be closed. Which, for me, was not normal: I was only 17 years old, I had no conscience that I was going to be the first to refuse the camera - besides, I learned it there is only two years, by activists of the MLF -, but I had the conviction, very strong, that it was not for me to be ashamed.
You have just mentioned Judge Jean-Pierre Getti. Rare thing, this ex-high magistrate speaks in the preface of your book. He explains how your case affected him, and justifies: "A judge is not a cold and distant mechanic (...), he is a person with his education, his training" ...
This man, by his professionalism and his humanism, allowed me to defend myself until the end. I think he was shaken up by the cruel facts, the fact that I was a minor and that I wanted the trial to be open to the public. He was very sensitive to the cause of women. It was he, the first, who told me about La Maison des Femmes de Montreuil, who advised me to get help, outside the judicial circle. He even later told magistrates about my case and explained to them that doing his job as an impartial judge did not mean working in a humane way. Everything was rare in this case ...
The ex-journalist that you are interviewing him about the French judicial system. What do you think are the means necessary to make it work?
One thing is essential: that the procedures are respected, in particular the taking of the complaint of a victim of rape, of aggression. Clearly, people, the police, must do their job. Otherwise, they change jobs.
The Grenelle of domestic violence concluded in October. Yaël Mellul, who co-piloted the working group on psychological violence, speaks in your book. Did the announcements presented at the end of this first major concertation in France convince you?
Everything remains largely insufficient. The means have been evaluated by a lot of associations which have agreed: a billion euros is necessary to defend the cause of women, it was not heard. So this granary was a total flop. From the start, on social networks, I called it "the windfall".
You cannot however deny that there is an awareness, in our country, of the violence of which women are victims, that their words are freed and that it is more taken into account (last year, 52,000 complaints of rape or sexual assault have been registered by the police and gendarmerie services, 10,000 more than in 2017)?
It is true, there has been an increase in the number of complaints, but their number would be even greater if more women really trusted the justice system. In my book, I insist on the need to file a complaint, and in the shortest possible time. It is out of the law that a complaint not be taken to a police station.
“If this correctionalization [of rape cases] allows the justice system to move on to something else faster, this is not the case for the victims (…). "
In Justice under the skin , you object to the criminalization of rape cases (the fact that this crime is reclassified as an offense and that it is therefore judged before a criminal court, and no longer at the assizes). Why ?
While this correction allows the justice system to move on to something else faster, this is not the case for the victims. In my book, I ask my lawyer the question, and his answer is very clear: with the criminalization of cases, there is no benefit for the victim: the investigation and the trial are botched. It's going to be business slaughter.
To return to the Grenelle on violence against women, the lifting of medical confidentiality divides the profession. What is your opinion on the matter?
Doctors take an oath… But I try never to lose sight of the main objective: if the primary goal of a doctor is to save lives, freeing himself from medical confidentiality is therefore the solution. I cannot say anything else, nor better. But it should not be done in any haphazard fashion: lifting medical confidentiality to put people in danger, of course not.
"When you put these people in jail, it means they won't hurt other women while they wait." The benefit was not only for me. This is my resilience. "
You also show humor, by making fun of, for example, one of the accomplices of your attackers. You also point out that he and his accomplices paid their debt to society. Have you forgiven your rapists?
Basically, I'm a humanist. Respect for human beings is essential to me. I have no spirit of revenge, and I had no desire to swing their name. At the same time, not naming them is a way to disembody them, to show that we are dehumanized by behaving like this. And then they paid their debt to society, not just to me. Because when you put these people in jail, that means they won't hurt other women while they wait. The benefit was not only for me. This is my resilience.
You are not tender towards the "big family of journalism". She woke up late, in your eyes, regarding violence against women?
If there is a profession where there should be no taboo, it is journalism! With #MeToo, #Balancetonporc, #NousAll, etc., the community no longer has a choice and can no longer miss these questions. There must be specific training in journalism schools. If the profession is not able to deal openly with a societal scourge that has existed since the dawn of time, then this is the end of the profession.
You say you have recovered your freedom of speech today ...
I couldn't deal with what I suffered as a journalist. I treat him today as an author. This book has unlocked all the others to come.
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