Pathogenesis – how germs made history

and hashtag feminism more generally, for example. While acknowledging the strengths of #MeToo in providing a sense of solidarity for survivors of sexual abuse, Bourke argues that the #MeToo movement became too individualized – focusing on the stories of individual women, often those who already had a voice in the media, rather than systemic misogyny and violence. As Bourke writes, ‘Disclosing stories of sexual abuse can became a form of neo-liberal self-fashioning rather than a feminist strategy for social transformation. The political becomes personal’ (36). Yet despite the limitations of #MeToo and the huge challenge of uprooting the underlying ideological and structural inequalities that underpin sexual violence, Bourke ends her book on an optimistic note. The movements that have developed around the globe against rape offer hope for change – from the #MeToo movement to street protests against sexual violence in Argentina, India and in many other examples in the book, to the chant of resistance of ‘A rapist in your path’, which started this review. Bourke takes inspiration in ‘transversialism’, a concept coined by feminist activists in Bologna in the 1990s and which aimed to bring together political adversaries to fight for a shared feminist goal. It is by recognizing and acknowledging our differences and diversity, and by giving voice to those most marginalized, that we can begin to forge the kind of solidarity needed in the struggle to eradicate sexual violence. Each one of us, suggests Bourke, can make a difference in our own workplaces, communities and localities, however small a step this might at first seem. By combining rigorous historical and theoretical analysis with stories of such resistance from around the world, Bourke’s book will aid all of those taking such steps to campaign for a world free from sexual violence – and as such it will be an invaluable resource for scholars and activists alike.