Women should not lament the loss of the Iron Lady

The endless media loop recording tributes and opprobrium in equal measure on the death of Margaret Thatcher has thrown up few surprises. Except for the number of women, high-profile and ordinary, remarking, often tearfully and proudly on her role as the UK’s first, and to date, only, woman to occupy the highest political office. This I find astonishing, given how frequently harmful her policies and ideological convictions were to women.

We’ll leave aside the impact of her systematic dismantling of key industries on communities all across Scotland and the UK. Women, directly and indirectly, paid a high price for the unemployment created in the 80s.  And while many engendered a renewed resilience in facing a common foe and in standing with their menfolk on picket lines, the havoc wreaked resulted in absolute poverty, homelessness and hunger. I remember giving over my pocket-money regularly to appeals for various communities enduring real hardship and hunger as a result of her economic policies.

But a glance at specific measures and indicators show how well the Iron Lady pulled the ladder up behind her: her becoming Prime Minister might have been expected to herald a rush of women entering parliament but far from it. When she came to power, there were only 19 female MPs and by the time she resigned, that number had increased to only 41. Worse, no women were promoted under her premiership to a full Cabinet role and only a handful were deemed worthy of a Ministerial portfolio.

She presided over the dismantling of the wages councils: somewhat ironically, these had been established in 1909 by one of her political heroes, Winston Churchill. And while some argue that the councils’ role in establishing minimum rates of pay and holiday entitlement for a wide range of trades artificially suppressed earnings, there is no doubt that they provided protection for workers in sectors where women often predominated, such as hairdressing, retailing and clothing manufacture. Her antipathy was driven by ideology, believing that market forces should determine what employers might pay their workers.

The fight to win equal pay also stalled under Thatcher. In 1979, the gap in full time hourly earnings was 28.7% – by 1990, it had reduced by just over 5%. But the gap in part time earnings actually widened. Moreover, on her watch, the concept of equal value was added to the legislation, adding to the test which had to be satisfied. While this has undoubtedly helped many women in recent years receive the same salary as colleagues, it is worth noting that it took until 1988 for the first equal value case to be won by a woman, after ten years of fighting through tribunals and the courts. In the early days, it stymied women’s rightful ambitions to earn the same as men – as Thatcher’s government intended.

Thatcher also did little to further women’s maternity rights. While Iraqi women were entitled to full pay on maternity leave from the 1970s and enjoyed extensive workplace nursery benefits, in Thatcher’s Britain, women had very little rights. Employers could allow as little maternity leave as they liked, with entitlement linked to length of service and workplace nurseries were treated as a taxable benefit, deducted from earnings. In 1987, the universal maternity grant was abolished, state paid maternity allowance was restricted and a woman lost a landmark case against her employer which singled her out for redundancy because she was pregnant.

Women might have been entitled to expect that a female Prime Minister might have resulted in gains for women economically, socially and in public life. But the opposite was true. So many of her policies either hurt women directly or disdainfully treated them as collateral damage. This lady did little for the lot of women in the UK despite having the power to improve our lives in so many ways. We have little to lament on her passing.

Happy International Women’s Day (2)

I asked a number of women to contribute some thoughts to the blog to mark the occasion of the day.  But, being a wumman with far too much to do and too little time in which to do it, I half-ersed it.  In that, I had the thought but then forgot to do the asking until it was almost too late.

Didn’t give folk enough time.  Cos they are all dead busy women too, but a few did indeed come up trumps.  And their thoughts are well worth having and sharing.

Are there any lessons from this wee episode?  Aside from me needing to plan things better (I have been urged to try this from an early age and never really quite got round to giving it a whirl)?  How about – how can we make women’s lives less busy so that they have more time to share with each other and simply to be.  Yup that would do it.

First up, Kezia Dugdale, Labour MSP for Lothians and one of the 2011 intake.  It would be remiss of me not to say that Kez is one of the bright young political things and is fairly making her mark, with a swift promotion into the Shadow Cabinet ranks with her appointment as Shadow Minister for Youth Unemployment.

I asked her what IWD means to her:

“For me, it’s a day for celebration and contemplation. A worthy moment to pause and mark the progress we’ve made towards equality.

But it’s also a day to reaffirm our collective commitment for a better tomorrow. To focus the mind on a more equal and just Scotland and to share our energy, experiences and hopes with other sisters around the world for whom the march towards equality is only just beginning.

And when it comes to Scotland’s constitutional future, I hope that across the political spectrum we can unite today behind the shared belief that women’s voices must be at the heart of our country’s debate. The settled will cannot be set by men in suits alone.”

And I also asked Gail Lythgoe, as another of Scottish politics’ bright young things, what advice she might want to impart on International Women’s Day to young women about to enter adulthood.  Gail is Convenor of SNP Students and is also on the party’s National Executive Committee.  She’s intelligent and fiercely bright, as well as being statuesque and sunny and just an all-round lovely person.  And we found out – rather bizarrely on twitter – that her aunt and I were at school together.  Scotland the village indeed.

“When asked what advice I would give to a younger woman, I eventually came to the conclusion it would have to be: you probably have, or can gain, the skills; you just need to gain belief in yourself.

How many times have you noticed that you sit in a discussion or meeting and have had some thoughts buzzing through your mind and yet thought “someone else will put it better than me” or “the point probably isn’t even that relevant anyway”? I have experienced that all my life before I realised, only very recently, I should just say it. Later on, I’ve assessed it to have been relevant to the discussion and been glad I said it. Otherwise, much more confident folk, typically men, will tend to dominate discussions.

I noticed at a recent NUS Conference, that when the Education Secretary was being asked questions by the audience, there was only 1 female and plenty of males asking questions. And I wondered, how many young women were thinking and forming thoughts in that very room but not putting them into words?

My advice to young women is to be yourself and rather than judging yourself on those around you, to look at what really matters to you. For some reason, ambitious is a dirty word. It is only dirty if you make your intentions and actions dirty. Be motivated, strive to do your best, aspire for a better world and better you and be as determined as you want.

Examine your belief in yourself. Where do you want to be? And how can you get yourself there?”

I also put the same question to Shelagh McKinlay who tweets as @Shequeen and blogs at the Absurdist as well as on the Herald’s online political pages.  Her parliamentary sketches are laugh out loud funny;  indeed, she’s one of the best and most witty writers/bloggers I know and I’m delighted to have got to know her a little, thanks to twitter.

“What would I tell young women heading for adulthood today? In many ways I’d give them the same advice as I’d give to young men. Respect yourself. Respect others. Work hard. Invest in a good bra.  

Young people face many of the same challenges regardless of gender and we must hope that future generations of men and women will work together to keep building a better society. But some things are different for girls.  Sexism still exists, it is not a figment of the imagination of middle-aged feminists like me.

The freedom women have today was hard won and, unfortunately, cannot be taken for granted.  I’d tell them that they therefore shouldn’t be complacent or accept second best.  Protecting our freedom involves fighting your corner and being what some might term “difficult”. I’d tell them not to worry about that. I’d tell them that too many young women, and I was one of them, worry too much about being liked for the wrong reasons – for being biddable and uncomplaining and not saying “No”.  I’d tell them saying “No” is fine if you have good reason and that if people don’t like it, that’s their problem.

I’d tell them to forget about being “good” and concentrate on being decent. I’d tell them to celebrate the fact that they live at a time when they have so much choice and opportunity. Young women today do face difficult choices, but I’d still rather have their life than my grandmother’s. 

Finally, I’d tell them to wear teeny tiny skirts and dance like crazy whenever they can, because one day the chance to do either may not come around so often.”

 

 

Joan, the Burd, Morag and the Village Aunties: Women and the Cybernat Revolution

Another great guestpost, this time from Sarah Currier, AKA Morag Eyrie, who is a New Scot from New Zealand, and is the originator of the blog Village Aunties: Feminists for an Independent Socialist Scotland. Sarah has lived in Scotland for exactly 15 years today (6 March), and works in educational technology in higher education. She tweets as @morageyrie.

So the Burd disagreed with a bunch of other cybernats (including me) about Joan McAlpine’s article, you know, the notorious article drawing an analogy between escaping an abusive marriage and Scotland escaping the Union.

Early on, the Burd realised that some people she respected were surprised at her strong reaction, and she said that she might be “over sensitive”. I thought: as soon as a woman starts censoring herself with the kind of words used by misogynists to dismiss us, there may be something worth hearing underneath. Weirdly, even though I totally disagreed with the Burd, it was the first time I’d felt a real pang of sisterly solidarity with her. I so wanted the discussion to continue, with the participation of the other women who were chiming in.

Anyway, being a tenacious Burd, she kept in with the discussion and explored her own reaction. I ended up agreeing with one point she came to: that Joan’s piece doesn’t make the leap successfully between a domestic violence analogy, and why an independent Scotland would be good for women.

I’m drawing this picture as a way to show what happens when a bunch of women, and some non-sexist men too, engage in respectful discussion around a heated matter. Doesn’t happen very often on the social Web; nor do you often see women as the main players in a discussion outwith the feminist blog-o-phere. And even there, sometimes sisters tear each other to shreds. It all mirrors meatspace painfully well.

Addressing this lack of women’s voices in the Scottish pro-independence social media sphere was the reason why I set up the Village Aunties. The Burd and Joan seemed like lone voices in the wilderness. And, although I think that Bella Caledonia and Newsnet Scotland are excellent pro-independence sites with mostly excellent sexual politics (and growing numbers of female contributors), I wanted there to be a space specifically carved out for a feminist voice in our brave new world. Oh the hopes I had.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had nothing but excellent support from many, many people for the Village Aunties. So many women have promised articles. So few actually produce them. And I am one of the ones that rarely produces them. I could cite busy-ness, my intense new job, whatever, but when I look at the volume of blogging produced by the Burd, and the unbelievably fecund Mhairi McAlpine, and I know both of them are very busy with jobs and children and other activities, well, it’s all excuses.

The salt in the wound is that the lovely pro-feminist men on the left whom I have welcomed on the Village Aunties are the ones who submit actual articles!

What does all this say about why there aren’t more women’s voices in the independence debate? I think Joan’s article is an excellent case study. I wanted to respond to the Burd’s initial Tweets about it by saying “But that’s what I and every pro-indy woman I know says about independence: we love the ‘leaving an abusive marriage’ meme!”. And I hesitated. I was scared to say it. Maybe I am wrong and weird. Twitter will come down on me like a ton of bricks. Just like the whole political and media world seemed to be coming down on Joan; and then her own blogging sisters-in-arms joining them.

This time, however, I was feeling reckless so I did say it. Then some other women I respect chimed in agreeing with me. Then Bella and Moridura and others. Then I was concerned about the tide turning on the Burd. I wanted to maintain sisterly solidarity. And we did that!

But a message has gone out, for the millionth time. It’s gone out to those who don’t have the same weird reckless moments that I do (and I do live to regret them, believe me, nights of sleepless paranoia, wondering if anyone will ever speak to me again, wondering if I’ll ever get another job, etc.)

The message is: if you are a woman, and you write or speak publicly and say stuff that loads and loads of intelligent, politically engaged feminist women say amongst ourselves all the time, you will be attacked. I’m not talking about the Burd’s reaction, I’m talking about the rest of it. And I think I know why: the deeper reason why.

We’re not allowed to talk publicly about abuse and oppression and power imbalances and colonialism and racism. There are consequences if you challenge people on their blind spots around their own complicity in these systems.

And Joan said one of the un-sayable things. The entire realm of discourse about oppressor and oppressed seems to have been taken out of the equation. We’re supposed to be over all that, to have moved on. Just like we’re supposed to be living in a post-feminist society (ha!). There are some truths we can’t speak of, and for a lot of women, they know that to speak truth to power, the costs can be devastatingly high. Ask the SSP women reviled with language like “witches”, spit on and threatened, who told the truth about an abuser in their midst (another object lesson women in Scotland haven’t forgotten).

See I can’t even be bothered unpicking Joan’s article: I would *love* to spend some time extending the analogy with all the amusing extra bits my friends and I have come up with. I would also love a separate article on feminism and the SNP and how we can make sure an independent Scotland is good for women. But that’s not what this incident evoked for me. What it evoked was a new stage in the Cybernat Revolution. We women can disagree with each other, and we can support each other during those disagreements, and we can get below the intense emotions to the truths driving them, and we can articulate important things. Nobody can give us permission or make us feel safe: there is no real safety. All we can do is try every day to maintain our bonds of sisterly care and solidarity even when we disagree.