There’s a bit of a debate going on in feminist blogging circles about feminists, women and the left. It all started over at the F-word, with Louise Whittle’s article about her disillusionment with the revolutionary left. Emma at Gendergeek and Winter at Mind the Gap have also been discussing this, and it’s something that bothers me, so here’s my tuppence worth.

Firstly, I guess I’ll admit to not knowing how to label myself. I guess I’ll go with Wikipedia’s description of Sheila Rowbotham’s politics:

…women’s oppression is a result of both economic and cultural forces (so) a dualist perspective (socialist feminism), which examines both the public and private sphere, is required to work towards liberation.

I wanted to come back on Winter’s comment:

Feminists on the left are understandably wary of critiquing the movement because they probably feel it’s some kind of betrayal, but I think it’s feminism that’s really getting betrayed. We need to demand that these men show more solidarity with women, not the other way around. Poverty does wear a female face. Gender oppression is one of the most fundamental, if not the most fundamental form of oppression. Feminism is a revolutionary movement in its own right and feminists are not dumb enough to think that, if we managed to do away with capitalism, we would automatically do away with the oppression of women.

Maybe you’re right. Maybe us feminists in the Labour party are wary of being seen to betray the movement. I certainly do recognise the problems being pointed up about the attitudes of many on the left, who actively support measures aimed at equality for women in the abstract but who react against them in the specific, when those measures affect their own lives, and who still hold unexamined attitudes about women’s role and place. These tensions have always been there. In Caroline Benn’s biography of Keir Hardie, she describes how Hardie’s support for women’s suffrage contrasted with his treatment of his secretary and his wife, where he unconsciously went along with traditional social attitudes - for example, he didn’t pay his secretaryas she was a woman. (In contrast, George Lansbury, later leader of the Labour party, was neither sexist in his private life nor in his public life - he actually resigned from Parliament to fight a by-election as the Women’s Suffrage candidate in 1912.)

Those attitudes still exist today - in the Labour leadership using women-only shortlists as a tool to impose leadership-friendly candidates on recalcitrant CLPs, and in so-called leftist NEC members (I mean you, Mark Seddon) supporting sexist members of a CLP that couldn’t handle having to choose a PPC from a selection of well-qualified candidates, all of whom were women.

My examples are from Labour - Emma and Louise’s are from the revolutionary left, and I’m sure there are more, as many as there are aware women who’ve rocked up to an anti-war meeting or a social forum, a Marxist discussion group or a general committee meeting.

But, Winter, I can’t agree with the point that gender oppression is more fundamental than class and income oppression. Margaret Thatcher, to take the extreme example, is no sister of mine; winning a better deal for rich women is no sort of feminism. And I’m a democratic socialist just as much as I am a feminist. (Having said that, neither cause seems to have mass appeal currently - maybe the discussion we should be having is how to get more support for both!)

Feminists have a lot to learn from the left, not least that there’s never going to be a knight on a white charger to win the cause for us, it’s up to us - ordinary women, and the ordinary men that support us.

And I’d like us to learn from the left’s values of solidarity, moving away from the idea that feminism is about individual women being empowered, about individual women getting into positions of importance. The be-all and end-all is not me achieving all that I can achieve. Politics is not about “I can do what I want to do”, and “I want to feel great in my own skin” and “because I’m worth it”. I want a feminism that’s about achieving decent living standards and an end to poverty pay for all women (that’s the economic bit) and about ending all violence against women and giving all women autonomy over their own bodies (I think that’s the cultural bit).

(And, while I’m on the subject, I sodding hate it that the most empowering-women, soraral cause around, the one that attracts women marching in their bras through the streets of London at night, the one that has pinched the language of consciousness-raising and empowerment that feminists created to articulate our oppression and to overthrow it, is breast cancer research. Well done, Breakthrough and the rest, you’ve emasculated us. I don’t doubt that your cause is good, and as a fellow campaigner, I admire what you’ve done, but thanks, all the same. That banner, that platform, that march, those t-shirts and fashion shows should have been about more.)

To get back to the topic, there has always been at times tension and at times common cause between feminism and the left. During the suffrage movement, some trade union leaders including some women, argued that ending poverty and better conditions at work would do more for women than the vote; the suffragettes eventually split between those who backed the first world war and those who didn’t; a hero of the feminist movement is Annie Besant, who led the matchgirls on strike for better pay and conditions. The women’s liberation conferences of the 70s and 80s were often dominated by arguments between leftist factions and the radical feminists, and when anti-Vietnam women brought feminist issues into the movement they were criticised for reducing the movement’s power with irrelevancies.

To reurn to the question, though:

Feminists are not dumb enough to think that, if we managed to do away with capitalism, we would automatically do away with the oppression of women

No, but you’d have to agree it would be a good start, right?

UPDATE, 40 minutes later: So that was a bit of a brain-dump. Apologies.

Melanie asked me below whether being a feminist was inextricably linked with supporting the right to abortion.* My answer would be, unsuprisingly, yes. I support the right to choose because being able to control when and if you have children is a prerequisite for all the other equalities that we take for granted, and some we haven’t got yet. But there are also other benefits to living in a society where abortion and contraception are available:

The legalisation of abortion and innovations in birth control have increased a wife’s clout in the home, according to an economics model that will be presented at the 2005 World Congress of the Econometric Society, which is hosted by UCL (University College London). Results show that all women are better off, including those don’t use birth control, but only if it’s available to single women as well.

The paper by Assistant Professor Sonia Oreffice of Clemson University and Professor Pierre-Andre Chiappori of Columbia University , US , applied mathematical modelling to bargaining power in marriages. Their findings show women have more say in a relationship and more control of the purse strings when birth control is available to all.

More here. Thanks Amanda for the link.

* Please note the difference between “supporting the right to have an abortion” and “choosing the option of abortion for yourself”. It’s a perfectly coherent and feminist position to support the right to choose but because of your own ethical or religious views not to exercise that right yourself.

From today’s Telegraph (not a regular Telegraph reader, so thanks Tom for the link)

Only 27 per cent of those questioned believed that the current 24-week legal limit for termination should be retained. Fifty eight per cent said abortions should not be carried out after the 20th week of pregnancy, with women more likely than men to favour tighter controls. One in three women favoured a limit of 12 weeks or under.

As I’ve said before, many many times, there are a few crucial points missing here:

Prohibiting abortion doesn’t mean that there are no abortions. It means that women who are rich pay for a discreet procedure from their family doctor or travel to a country where it is legal, and poor women do it themselves by throwing themselves down the stairs or pay a quack to have a go with a clothes hanger or a knife or a stick or knitting needles or a purgative, and many of them die.

There’s a dangerous myth that women who have late-term abortions are selfish and are doing it for “lifestyle” reasons. Now I think that women should be able to access abortion just because they want it, not having to cite a “reason”, but that’s beside the point here. Women who have late-term abortions are a tiny proportion, but they are often those in most need, choosing abortion because of a feotal abnormality, or because they hadn’t realised that they were pregnant. It is an exquisite form of torture for the state to turn women into human incubators, continuing a pregnancy they don’t want.

Finally, think about who’s calling for this: the anti-choice groups who don’t want women to be able to access abortion at all, and who oppose contraception too. What would a society where they held sway look like? And do we want to start down that slippery slope to losing control of our hard-won autonomy?

Sending pyjamas to Beverley Hughes, apparently.

UPDATE: I understand that they’re not just sending pyjamas but actually wearing them as part of an overnight protest to highlight F4J’s campaign for overnight stay contact to be the minimum recommended custody given by the courts when families split. (Because of course, every family is the same and contact arrangements should be decided cookie-cutter style, obviously). There will also be a “Bedlam Protest” the following day, October 21.

I’m going to have to start reading the Times. Interesting articles about women’s stuff (two, in a week!), David Aaronovitch, Julie Burchill, and now, I discover, a weekly column written by a lesbian mum about her life with her son and her partner.

On their holiday in the wilds of West Wales:

The walks are our treat. Even if D jumps from rock to rock just inches away from a sheer drop down the cliff into the sea. And even if he goes up to everyone we meet on the way saying “I’m on a walk with my mummy and mum.” We certainly get a few odd looks. The paths and beaches are full of nice nuclear families. None of your London diversity here, thanks. Which is why we’re spending this holiday in a beautiful self-catering cottage on a farm run by a gay couple. No need to explain anything, no dirty looks from curious B&B landladies at breakfast or questions over double beds.

From the Times:

Women are less likely to fall victim to murder today than 20 years ago because they are more willing to walk out of violent relationships, a new study has revealed.

Been meaning to post up this anecdote by Lauren of Feministe about the perils of leftie parenting in the United States. I wonder what the UK equivalent is? Maybe the ubiquitous teatowel-headed nativity plays in state primary schools?

This afternoon when I picked Ethan up from school, his teacher turned from a conversation she was having with another mother, pulled me aside and asked a question. “Did you tell Ethan not to say the pledge?”

“I told him it was his choice,” I said. “Why?”

“Well, it doesn’t matter to me if he says the pledge or not, but he has to be respectful when the other kids do.”

“I spoke to him about that. How was he disrespectful?”

“He had his arms crossed.”

“Did he do anything else?” I asked. The other mom looked at me warily.

“No.”

I hesitated for a moment. “Clearly our versions of ‘respect’ are different, but I’ll speak to Ethan about that.”

…

I was miffed by the teacher, who is by all accounts a wonderful educator (and Ph.D.), but had to take into account all sides. No matter her views, her views are disregarded and part of her state-mandated curriculum is to teach children how to say the pledge and to make time for it every morning. Further, my views and Ethan’s choice could concern other children and parents. On the way out of school I asked Ethan about it. What did she say?

“She said I have to be respectful.”

“How?”

“She said I can’t cross my arms.”

“Well, next time why don’t you just put your hands in your pockets and stand with the rest of the kids if you don’t want to say the pledge.”

“I can’t. She said I have to stand like this.” Ethan put his arms stiffly at his sides and stood, to my dismay, like a little soldier. Perhaps I was reading into things. I reassured him that it was okay, it is his choice. My five-year-old son is no soldier, too young to be a patriot.

One of the major calls of the feminist movement over the past decades has been about women’s safety and their right to live free from violence. I’ve always known that a variety of disciplines could have particularly feminist strands - but I must admit I’d never heard of “architectural feminism” before this article in yesterday’s Sunday Times.

Clearly, the journalist is struggling with her suppressed desire to get a “political correctness gone mad” story out of this (and yes, I recognise that by using the term “PC” I have violated Polly Toynbee’s first law); even my office of women had a bit of a snigger at the idea of creches in nightclubs and hairdryers in public loos. As one new mother of my acquaintance said, “so, I’m supposed to get off my face and then pick up my son at 2am, am I?!”

But those slightly loopy ideas aside, the idea that “feminisation” can make our high streets a happier place to be is a good one. My priority would be better, safer, cleaner public loos, to replace the current system where you have to try to use them whilst achieving the minimum contact with seat, door, soap dispenser, floor, tap, hand dryer - from an unscientific sample of my colleagues, the no contact toileting stop is a growing into an art form, and everyone had a loo horror story, the loos at Oxford station being a particular hate. Surely it’s not that hard to understand? Railway=travellers=luggage, right? But railway also = terrorist threat = no leaving luggage anywhere ever, right? So exactly what do you do with luggage + tiny cubicles + floor swimming with not quite clear water, as is the case in Oxford station? Quite how families manage to change nappies and deal with toddlers I don’t know, unless they spend two pound in Starbucks every time the littl’un needs to spend a penny.

But beyond powdering one’s nose, women and men surely have other expectations of their town centres. I like the ideas about improving the feeling of safety and wellbeing, by cutting down hedges, moving bus stops etc, and for sheer convenience, getting rid of cobblestones would be great. (Wonder if English Heritage would let us asphalt Radcliffe Square, which has killed so many shoes in its time?)

Of course, improving safety in towns by changing the built environment only goes so far, as despite the stereotype of stranger danger, women are far more likely to be attacked by someone they know.

Do you like the new blog? I’ve moved to Wordpress, and I think it’s worth it, though it has taken me and Jo the best part of a day to do it.

There are a few advantages to the move. Firstly, I’ve now got categories, so if you’re here looking for why I hate fathers4justice, my views on teenage pregnancy or you just want to know what I’m reading, you can find out without having to wade through the Labour stuff or my slight obsession with American politics. I hope you like the photo at the top: I’m posing with a Kerry-Edwards banner, at the junction of Love Park and Ben Franklin Parkway in Philadelphia last autumn.

Just one more thing, loyal reader: you will need to update your feed to stay up-to-date with my exciting ramblings. It’s now http://www.antoniabance.org.uk/feed/.

RIP Mo Mowlam, a pioneering woman in politics.

I’m finding it hard to watch the rolling footage of her - both because of the contrast between the beautiful young woman who started out in politics and the patently-ill woman who left Parliament, and because of the sheer hypocrisy of that standing ovation during the leader’s speech, when her friends stood to applaud as a sign of their support for her amid the briefings and whispering, and the briefers and whisperers stood to demonstrate they were doing nothing of the sort.

My favourite Mo moment?
Journalist to Mo as she leaves No. 10 the day after the 97 election: “So, what did you get?”
Mo, clearly still slightly confused by it all: “Shadow Northern Ireland. No, no, I mean Northern Ireland Secretary!”

Robin Cook and Mo Mowlam, inside a month.