This week, the Sean “Diddy” Combs trial began. The government’s star witness is Cassie, Combs’ ex, whom he settled a November 2023 sexual assault lawsuit to the tune of $20 million. Her lawsuit alleged sexual assault, physical abuse, and coercion to participate in prolonged sex acts deemed “freak offs.” Throughout her testimony, Cassie went into graphic detail on a relationship she said became more based on “shame” and “guilt” than genuine love. She said that he sexually assaulted her in 2018 and that she participated in so many “freak offs” that she couldn’t estimate a precise number, and one session lasted four days.
On social media, where content creators have been dissecting the case, some commenters have been distressingly sympathetic to Diddy’s defense.
Boosie spoke for many naysayers when he posted on X, “I don’t see no crimes committed in this case,” ignoring Cassie’s abuse, rape, and assault accusations to make a sweeping claim, as if she’s not merely one witness detailing one portion of the government’s case. Federal prosecutors have stated that they already have documentation of Combs trafficking sex workers across state lines for prostitution (and he allegedly did so with an infrastructure of employees who facilitated his activities).
Cassie also alleged that Combs was physically violent toward her “too frequently” (sex worker Daniel Phillip revealed two previously unpublicized instances of Combs hitting her). She said she could only get through the “painful” sessions with drugs that numbed her. After filming the acts at his behest, Combs allegedly blackmailed her with the threat of releasing videos when she tried to leave him. As a signee to Combs’ Bad Boy Records, Cassie’s music career was in his hands.
After leaving Combs, Cassie said she became suicidal during rehab and therapy, where she wrote down everything she had been through with him in book format. “I was spinning out,” she told prosecutors. “I didn’t want to be alive anymore at that point.” Yet, she was strong enough to go forward with the lawsuit that prompted other allegations, and once and for all, crumbling the “Brother Love” facade Diddy had shrouded himself in. She was vulnerable enough to be open about her mistreatment on the stand. But the “reward” for her bravery has been having onlookers, none of whom were in the rooms with them, picking apart her testimony with an implicit sense of suspicion.
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They’ve also sensationalized her trauma. A case with such grisly allegations deserves to be addressed with an empathetic tone that centers the alleged survivor’s pain. But social media is full of media personalities and onlookers discussing the Combs trial with the timbre of a gossip blogger recounting a Real Housewives episode. Headlines have focused on how urine and semen played into their sexual encounters, immediately reducing her account to the most salacious bits. Independent journalist Loren Lorosa gave a hasty recap of Cassie’s cross-examination from right outside the courtroom, noting, “Unfortunately, I don’t think Puff is gonna walk away scot-free,” during a three-minute video where she was speaking off the cuff about sensitive issues that deserve measured recounting. YouTuber Tisa Tells, who was in Max’s The Fall Of Diddy documentary, boasted about having “exclusive tea” in one of her trial recaps. Social media is rife with fresh baby oil and “Diddy party” jokes, as if we’re all talking about a sketch comedy show instead of a woman recounting trauma that she almost didn’t make it back from.
The rampant skepticism of Cassie and the ridicule of her pain reflect a societal conditioning that denies Black women genuine victimhood. Misogynoir is a systemic issue worldwide. But the way it’s manifesting in the hip-hop community, fueled by an online culture increasingly influenced by the misogynistic “manosphere,” is more suffocating than ever. More than excitement over new music or artists, the recent rap-related headlines have been dominated by stories of women being diminished. We’ve seen several other examples just this week.
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Singer/actress Halle Bailey recently filed a restraining order against streamer/rapper DDG, whom she accused of repeated physical and verbal abuse. In her complaint, Bailey stated that DDG’s false livestream claims have “caused me to feel afraid and victimized. His fans then threaten me. I am often scared for my life and Halo’s safety.” In response, several of DDG’s streamer peers are publicly siding with him. DDG found out about the restraining order live on media personality Adin Ross’ stream. Without seeing any of the details, Ross knee-jerkingly told Halle, “Stop these fake allegations, this is a father…this is a good human being.” Streamer Plaqueboymax opined that he wants to see “concrete evidence” of DDG’s guilt before stepping away from him. DDG has also received public support from streamers DJ Ghost, Deshae Frost, and N3on. Despite Halle giving the court several instances of violence and providing post-assault photos, her victimhood is being denied by many. His supporters have started a #ProtectDDG movement online.
The DDG solidarity exemplifies the rampant misogyny present on much of the internet. “Manosphere” figures such as Andrew Tate have espoused a rigid view of masculinity that denies women their volition and humanity on platforms like DJ Akademiks’ stream, where the two commiserated on single mothers being unworthy of dating. Adin Ross, one of the people who spoke in support of DDG, has had Tate on his stream numerous times. Last October, he was getting a haircut on stream while Nick Fuentes and Tate agreed that “women can’t lead because women aren’t soldiers.” Adin Ross recently caught the ire of many by calling Doechii a “bitch” and an “unintelligent piece of shit” after a Met Gala clip of her cursing at assistants went viral. He’s said that he lost two sponsorships because of the comments, where the vitriolic tone of his extended diatribe verged on racism. The sad reality is that as Doechii continues to elevate as an artist, the misogyny toward her will rise, too.
The deeper societal issue lies with the young people consuming this content. The Netflix show Adolescence depicted a young boy’s “Manosphere” radicalization which resulted in him killing a young girl who had rejected him and called him an incel. In a report about the show, Allysa Czerwinsky, a male-supremacism and online extremism researcher told Rolling Stone that the show reflects real-world dynamics with “pervasive narratives of victimhood, of limited agency, of limited self-worth that are festering into this emotional turmoil,” and manosphere content “offer them a really easy solution” to decide, “‘women are responsible for this.’”
The internet at one point served as a vehicle for survivors via #MeToo and other movements. Since Alyssa Milano encouraged other women who’d experienced assault to reply “me too” on X (then Twitter), a wave of people have come forward about harassment and assault they’d previously suffered in silence. The #MeToo movement, in particular, has laid bare the culture of coercion and abuse that permeates every institution and created space for women to feel supported by online communities. But in recent times, it feels like there has been pushback led by a swathe of men prone to challenge women coming forward. The streamer Sneako, who’s frequently streamed with Ross, has surmised that “a woman’s worth is what she looks like and a man’s worth is your masculinity, is your respect.” Myron Gaines of the popular “manosphere” podcast Fresh N Fit, wrote that “Women are benefiting unfairly at nearly every man’s expense” in his book Why Women Deserve Less.
Like with Cassie and Hallie, Megan Thee Stallion has been a victim of the internet’s propensity to ridicule women. The widespread doubt that Megan’s faced since her shooting seems rooted in the same misogynoir that Diddy and DDG defenders are using. Some people deny that she was even shot. And now, people are speculating that Roc Nation orchestrated Tory’s prison stabbing because they knew Kelsey Harris’ bodyguard, Bradley James, was going to come forward and accuse her of the August 2020 shooting. Megan’s In Her Words documentary detailed that after being shot, she’s experienced ensuing waves of trauma induced by the barrage of harassment and conspiracy theories sent her way (some revealed to have been devised by Tory himself). Logic says that the blame for James not taking the stand during Tory’s trial rests with him or the Toronto artist’s defense team. But instead, the circumstance has spurred even more harassment toward Megan, picking at a figurative wound that may never get the chance to heal.
Writer Joan Morgan’s book, When Chickenheads Come Home To Roost identified the quandary women have long faced by enjoying hip-hop while being primary targets of their favorite artists’ ire. “How did we go from fly-girls to bitches and hos in our brothers eyes?,” she asks in the 1999 book. She also wrote, “We have come to a point in our history, however, when black- on-black love —A love that survived slavery, lynching, segregation, poverty and racism —is in serious danger.”
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That fracture is apparent in the community’s divisiveness surrounding high-profile assault accusations. Black women see the avidity with which men deny Cassie, Megan, and now Hallie their victimhood, and are justified in pondering how it dovetails with their disproportionate domestic violence rates. The Institute of Women’s Policy Research reported that more than 40% of Black women have experienced intimate partner physical violence, intimate partner sexual violence, and/or intimate partner stalking, higher than the national average of 31%. In February 2024, the Lancet medical journal reported that Black women are six times more likely to be killed than white women (51.3% of Black female homicides are related to intimate partner violence).
Over the past several years, hip-hop’s supposed decline has been a prevailing storyline. Though plenty of indie acts are releasing exciting work, the bulk of broader rap discourse has centered on a lack of exciting music in the major label orbit and a dearth of Billboard success for hip-hop artists. In that perceived breach of great music, violence against women has become a dishearteningly common topic. And if that trend continues, alongside more exposés of abuse from once-beloved artists and executives, and more misogynist fan-flaming from media personalities, it’s worth wondering how many women will consider leaving hip-hop music behind altogether.
