Chile<\/a>.
We have marched, struck, rioted, occupied, petitioned, organised and
agitated not only on behalf of our own interests as women, but also as
part of broader social movements and collective actions, both peaceful
and violent, carried out for social, political and economic
reasons.<\/p>\n
Often women’s involvement in protest has drawn on their
gendered role within families and communities. Women played a
significant part, for instance, in the riots
over food supply, quality and price<\/a> which swept Europe during
its transition to a capitalist market economy from the 16th century
to the 19th. Historians like Temma Kaplan<\/a>,
E P
Thompson<\/a> and Natalie
Zemon Davis<\/a> (and, er, me) have seen female participation in
these protests as an extension of their role in the sexual division
of labour, including food procurement and preparation, which lent
legitimacy and authority to their involvement. The prominence of
women in local networks of communication, and their presence in
social centres like market squares as part of their daily routine,
also allowed them to collectively mobilise and organise – the
equivalent, under agrarian capitalism, of creating a Facebook Events
page. <\/p>\n
<\/a>There is, however, a myriad of other
movements and moments in which women have taken part as workers<\/a>,
students, trade
union organisers<\/a>, family
<\/a> members<\/a>,
and consumers, as well as on grounds of class, race<\/a>, sexuality<\/a>,
and political
<\/a> principle<\/a>.
There’s even a Wikipedia list of female
rebel leaders<\/a> dating from the 9th century BC to this
year’s uprising in Ivory Coast, which, even though this series
is concerned less with individuals and more with women’s mass
participation in protest, is still pretty cool.<\/p>\n
Just as their presence is still being obscured in reports of current
events in the Middle East, so women have historically been absent
from many popular and academic accounts of protest. The advent of
feminist-influenced social history from the mid-20th century sought
to correct masculine bias within traditional narratives of labour
history or liberal teleologies, both of which had marginalised or
misrepresented the involvement of women. Conversely, strictly purist
or doctrinaire feminist narratives of history have also tended to
ignore popular movements which did not advance a specifically
feminist programme, regardless of how heavily women may have been
involved. Both of these approaches resulted in the omission, until
recently, of women from the histories of protest movements like Chartism
<\/a>in which they played a significant part.<\/p>\n
The place and properness of women in protest has long been a bone of
contention, with discourse surrounding their involvement portraying
them as hysterical, unwomanly, deviant, or deranged. Sheila
Rowbotham, in her historical study
<\/a>of women and protest, notes that: <\/p>\n
It is at the point where the revolution starts to move women out
of their passivity into the conscious and active role of militants
that the mockery, the caricatures, the laughter with strong sexual
undertones begin. <\/p><\/blockquote>\n
The vicious alarmism and mockery drawn by female involvement in
politics, with which suffragists and civil rights agitators found
themselves contending, is already evident in several cartoons on
female Jacobins<\/a>
and campaigners for constitutional reform. Political cartoons of
the 18th and 19th century were rarely noted for their subtlety,
and caricaturists tended to focus upon the disorderly nature of
political females, as well as imputing to them an
‘unwomanly’ loose or aggressive sexuality. Cruikshanks
depicted ‘The
Female Reformers of Blackburn’<\/a> as vulgarly outspoken
and blowsily dressed, distastefully dominating their political
platform, and J L Marks’ ‘Much
Wanted: A Reform Among Females!!!’<\/a> gives its female
protagonists suggestively brandished rolled-up papers, poles
clutched between their knees, and – oh yes – hands
clasped in their laps to form a gaping dark hole, setting out
their desire to usurp male power as well as their own wantonness.
As, perhaps, does the presence of all those upthrust pikes, swords
and cannons in depictions
<\/a>of the women’s march to Versailles. And of course Cath
Elliot’s recent piece on online
harassment<\/a>, by which politically uppity women are impugned as
frigid, or sluts, or lesbians, provides a piquant reminder of this
glorious tradition.<\/p>\n
<\/a>Women in protest don’t merely
have attacks from the right to worry about. Their involvement does
not take place in a vacuum – women protest not only as women
but for multiple reasons of sectional interest, and the gender
identification of protestors has historically generated conflict
and tension with identities based on race, class, sexuality, and
ideology. To take just one example, the involvement of women in
20th century industrial
<\/a> conflict<\/a>,
acting in support of or solidarity with male industrial workers,
has been criticised by some feminists who view such conflict as
manifestations of an unhelpfully macho patriarchal culture from
which women should separate themselves.<\/p>\n
Nor can it be assumed that female involvement in social protest
will naturally result in an outcome which is cognisant of,
sympathetic to, or even comfortable for women. After the
Women’s March to Versailles, women as revolutionaries became
a potent symbol of the power of the French Revolution, and the
young Republic was eventually personified in the figure of Marianne<\/a>.
But, as Joan
Landes<\/a> has argued, Marianne’s visual prominence did not
mean that women obtained significant political, social, or
economic advantages during the French Revolution; the new
Republic’s politics was one of laws and texts in which
Marianne’s image bore no concrete significance. Similar
tensions are apparent in the complex relationship of Iranian women
with the after-effects<\/a>
of the 1979 revolution, and the contention that the presence of
women in the current ‘Arab spring’ uprisings, when
acknowledged at all, is being appropriated
and used symbolically<\/a>.<\/p>\n
In addition to the examples given in links above, this series will
look in greater detail at case-studies of women’s
involvement in social, political, and economic protest, their
motivations and methods, their successes and setbacks. It’s
been a long, hot summer of discontent and it shouldn’t be
any surprise to see women as well as men taking their place in the
sun.<\/p>\n
*<\/p>\n