For the last few days, I've sat on my hands as the feminist movement's leading lights sought to smooth over the latest intramural wrangle over whether one could be a good feminist and vote for the man in this Democratic presidential primary. So far, little smoothing seems to have taken place, leaving this most dangerous of charges to linger. It began on Monday, when the New York State chapter of the National Organization for Women (NOW) issued a press release accusing Sen. Edward Kennedy of "betrayal" for his endorsement of the man whose name dare not be spoken, Hillary Clinton's "opponent". (In the meantime, NOW National President Kim Gandy issued a statement lauding Kennedy for his commitment to women's rights.)
The general word from movement leaders is that the women of NOW-NYS, led by Marcia Pappas, are entitled to their opinions. That was the line advanced last night on "Hardball" by the indomitable Faye Wattleton of the Center for the Advancement of Women. True enough. But so are those women -- feminists, even -- who have determined Barack Obama to be the better bet for women and other living things. I understand -- and even agree with -- the assertion by Gloria Steinem and Taylor Marsh that a woman with Obama's level of experience would not be given the time of day in a presidential nomination contest. But that doesn't mean that the woman in the race is necessarily going to make this world a better place for my spanking new grandniece, Julianna (born while Kennedy was endorsing Obama), than the guy will. And, by my lights, when I finally make up my mind, it will really be about Julianna.
I've been through this kind of loyalty-oath feminism before, most painfully during the porn wars of the 1980s, which served the right far better than they served the women's movement. Within the movement, a price was paid in strained relationships and the alienation of those younger women who came to see feminism as anti-sex. Now, in the 21st century, it should be safe for a young feminist to vote for her generational priorities, or for any feminist to vote against a candidate who looked the other way while her surrogates played the race card. During the racially charged South Carolina campaign, two African-American feminists, unknown to each other, speaking from homes hundreds of miles from each other, each quoted me the famous line from Sojourner Truth's plea for suffrage: Ain't I a woman?
--Adele M. Stan