Essays
“J’y étais.” “I Was There.” Histoires de femmes en zones de conflit. Stories of Women in Conflict Zones.
This short film was created at the Montreal Life Stories Project, which is an,
“. . .oral history project exploring Montrealers’ experiences and memories of mass violence and displacement. A team of both university and community-based researchers is in the process of recording life story interviews with more than 500 Montreal residents over the course of the next five years.
Those interviewed have been displaced by mass violence, ranging from the Holocaust to the Rwandan and Cambodian genocides, to political violence in Haiti, Latin America and South Asia. The project hopes that the act of listening intently to how these survivors speak of their memories, may bring us to an understanding of what these experiences mean to them and how they can be retold. Recording their process of remembering and telling will also help us better understand the impact of mass violence and displacement on those who have sought refuge in Montreal and the ways in which their sense of home and community has been affected.
Through the practice of oral history, Life Stories intends to create cultural and historical materials for Montreal’s diverse communities, to foster collaboration and partnership between them, to develop interdisciplinary pedagogical tools and to make a significant, original contribution to the preservation of historical memory in Canada, by raising questions about the long-term repercussions of crimes against humanity.”
I work for the project as an Oral History Intern, and accordingly I perform interviews with members of the Montreal community–in my case, artists who convey their experiences of displacement through their work–as a member of the Oral History and Performance working group.
I would like to invite you to listen to the stories of these four Montreal women who have lived in Conflict Zones. However, I have to add a strong *TRIGGER WARNING* to this particular video and transcript, as there are graphic descriptions of state and military violence against women.
Without further ado, “J’y étais.” “I Was There.” Histoires de femmes en zones de conflit. Stories of Women in Conflict Zones.
CLICK HERE TO SEE THE FILM
The bilingual film is available online at both our English and French online dossiers.
Also, check out our websites to see our other projects: www.lifestoriesmontreal.ca/http://histoiresdeviemontreal.ca/fr/home-accueil
I did my best to make a comprehensive transcript below:
_______________________________________
Transcript
[Quote onscreen]
Meditate that this came about:
I commend these words to you
Carve them in your heart
At home, in the street
Going to bed, rising:
Repeat them to your children
-Primo Lévi
[Berthe Kayitesi, a young woman of Rwandan descent, speaking in French into a microphone at a conference]
But we are here, and yesterday, it was my home. It was Rwanda. And the day before, it was in Germany… it was in Cambodia, and before that, it was in Armenia. Have the Armenians forgotten? No. Have the Jews forgotten? No. I remember the first page of Primo Lévi’s testimony where he says [quote]: “don’t forget, don’t forget where you are.”
[Text on the screen]
Life stories of Montrealers Displaced by War, Genocide, and Other Human Rights Violations Project Presents
[Ven Runnath, an elderly woman of Cambodian descent speaking in French at her home]
My name is Ven Runnath. I was born on the 17th of July, 1936.
[Text on the screen]
As a part of the Montreal Human Rights Film Festival
[Carmen Ruiz, a young woman of Columbian descent, speaking in English; the screen shows her dancing]
Hello, I’m Carmen Ruiz. I’m originally from Columbia. Um. I was born April 1st, ’79. I’m and April Fool! [laughs]
[Text on the screen]
A film based on life stories interviews
[Berthe Kayitesi speaking in French in her home]
My name is Berthe Kayitesi. Originally from Gsenyi in Rwanda. I was born in Gisenyi.
[Text on the screen]
With:
Berthe Kayitesi
Elisabeth Pkilibert
Carmen Ruiz
Ven Runnath
[Elizabeth Plilibert, a middle-aged woman of Haitian descent, speaking French in her home]
My name is Elizabeth Plilibert. People often call me Bela. I come from Pétionville. I was born March 27, 1948 to a very humble family, to a workman father and a mother, like all Haitian mothers, who took care of her children at home.
[Text on the screen, accompanied by photos of the four women]
“J’y étais.” “I Was There.” Histoires de femmes en zones de conflit. Stories of Women in Conflict Zones.
[Carmen Ruiz, speaking English in her home]
At the end on the nineties, ah, Columbia stopped sending minors to—to—Military service, but up to then in was like, every man who finished high school has to go through the process. And so that, you know, a lot of people could end up high school at like sixteen or seventeen in Columbia. So now the people who are, um, you know, over the age, you know the adults, but I guess it’s still very present in those last few years of high school right. Like, the fear that your brother or your boyfriend or the person you are with that they will be sent to the unknown.
[Text on the screen]
Since the 1960s, Columbia has been struggling with a conflict opposing the government, the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Columbia (FARC), and paramilitary groups, killing thousands of civilians.
[Carmen Ruiz, speaking English in her home, occasionally the screen shows clips of her dancing on a stage to a backdrop of images of war and conflict]
And then, you know, it was a big confrontation going in to university, as I said, you know public university, a lot of political confrontation here and there. And here I am in the middle being concerned, wanting to express, wanting to gain public space for—to be—in a society where not only still restrict in terms of morals, but like also, you know, like especially the nineties the years that I was there, all the like, all the drug traffic and the war of drugs created like a lot of social tension in places where you were supposed to go…
[Elizabeth Plilibert, speaking French in her home]
I joined the PUDA, the United Party of Democratic Haitians.
[Text on the screen]
In 1964, François Duvalier banner opposition parties and ruled as ‘President for life.’ A violent repressive politic escalated.
[Elizabeth Plilibert, speaking French in her home]
It was at a crucial moment in 1967, with the Duvalier government… the situation was really difficult. There was the student strike, the massacres, notably the one of Perpígnan, the one of people from Jérémie, etc. So in 1967, you really had to have courage to join the party.
[Berthe Kayitesi speaking in French in her home]
I remember that there was such a fear that I ended up not being afraid anymore.
[Text on the screen]
On December 10th, 1990, the Kangura journal published the “Hutu 10 Commandments,” as an anti-Tutsi hate propaganda text. The machinery of violence was launched and got to its highest point in April 1994.
[Berthe Kayitesi speaking in French in her home]
The atmosphere began to be filled with tension. And so today, with hindsight, I think that these events were foreshadowing the worst. But at the same time, I didn’t dwell on it. I don’t know if at a certain point one gets used to living in situations like that.
[Ven Runnath speaking French in her home]
On April 17, 1975, during the Cambodian New year’s holiday…
[Text on the screen]
On the 17th of April, 1975, the Khmer Rouge marched into Phnom Penh and emptied the city.
[Ven Runnath speaking French in her home]
Pot Pot threatens to take us out of the house. They told us that is was only for three days, but it didn’t happen that way. It lasted almost three years.
[Interviewer asks Ven Runnath]
Were you always with your family?
[Ven Runnath answers]
Yes, with my husband, my children, my brothers and my sisters. All together… 63 people in total.
[Interviewer asks Ven Runnath]
So 63 people left all together?
[Ven Runnath answers]
Yes, all together. But coming back, of the 63, there were only 12 survivors.
[Text on the screen]
I unfold it carefully, I note:
April 6th: Assassination of R’s president
April 13th: Joseph is fired at, at the fence
April 14th: Joseph is finished off. My children are tortured
April 15th: My children disappear
April 16th: Hilde is assassinated
-Notes taken on an empty package of cigarettes by Yolande Mukagasana, a survivor of the genocide of the Tutsi’s in Rwanda
[Berthe Kayitesi speaking in French in her home]
April 21st, at around 3 or 4 o’clock in the afternoon, I was in the kitchen on the convent when the militiamen arrived. Félicité came running and told everyone to hide. “The genocidairres are here.” I told them I was not Tutsi, the genocidairres took us away. A genocidairre took me from Thomas’ hands—Thomas kicked him. At the same time, a genocidairre was shooting those that were on the ground. There were other people that we had not been able to bring out of the hiding place. Later that evening, the police came to “protect” us. They told us “next time it will be by fire.” They were going to burn us. I started to regret not having died by bullet, in the cemetery.
[Elizabeth Plilibert, speaking French in her home]
On May 2, 1969, they attacked the Fontmara house, where I was. They came with very heavy weapons. They started to shoot, and I was the first to be hurt. I got a bullet in the shoulder, and I fell. Despite the blood that flowed and my stiff arm, I still went through an interrogation. And afterwards, they put me in a corner. I heard Breton, who was saying [quote]: “Give this woman a bit of water because she must still go to the interrogation.” The same guy who had beaten me came to give me water. He stopped near the door and said to me, whispering [quote]: “ma’am, forgive me. I see that you are pregnant. . . It’s my job; I can’t do anything about it.”
[Ven Runnath speaking English in her home]
We worked hard. We never satisfied them. [Unclear] So imagine that, in my heart, what they… but for …. [unclear] I demand too much. It’s about the separation… Husband, away. Children, away. We could not know where are they. Could they be alive? Nothing. And I used to talk with the chicken. When I’m alone, I saw the hen with the chicken and I see them and I cry. And I say that now, you are luckier than me… you could be near your—your—kid—your children all the time. For me, I have no right to keep my children near me. So, all the time I want to suicide, but I’m not alone! All my family, all together, because if one of my children still alive, he or they will be slave of the other. And I don’t want my children will be slave of the other. If they still alive, I have to be alive.
[Elizabeth Plilibert, speaking French in her home]
And I gave birth on August 13th, 1969.
[Text on the screen]
[quote] “Labour is a natural thing,” they retorted.
“If you are in labour, call the matron.”
But the matron lived in the village.
Five miles away.
Pregnant, they had very little regard for me.
I was treated like everyone and yet,
There were very few women in my situation:
Same rations and same work.
-Cambodia under the Khmer Rouge: Chronicles of the Conditions
Tan Kim Pho Yi, survivor of the Khmer Rouge regime.
[Elizabeth Plilibert, speaking French in her home]
I spent two or three days at the hospital and it was really hard. It was necessary to have a lot of courage, as a woman. As I was a prisoner and identified as a “communist,” I didn’t have the right to the normal treatment for women giving birth. When the doctor saw that I was ready to give birth, he said [quote]: “I will not give this woman an anaesthetic. She will give birth like that.” The doctor delivered the episiotomy in cold blood (sang froid). That’s not all. When the child came out, they took the child… they told me to get down from the stretcher and to walk to get to my bed. And after, they brought me the child. I spent three days without care, and it was back to prison, because I was still not liberated… that[’s when] the infections started.
[Ven Runnath speaking English in her home]
And I went to the chief, the house of the chief.
[Text on the screen]
Ven’s husband, a former soldier, was
Considered as an enemy of the Khmer Rouge.
As punishment, the family was scattered
And Ven found herself alone.
[Ven Runnath speaking English in her home]
[quote] “I want to know, where is my husband? My dad-in-law? My brother-in-law? My uncle? My—please tell me the truth.” And he made a deep breath, he is a very good man, and he said that, ah [quote]: “Now, don’t wait for them anymore”
[Sound of Ven singing in French layered over sounds of her speaking in English]
[Ven speaking in English]
To sleep, you know, I tried to sing a song in French.
[Ven continues speaking in French now]
To sooth myself, to master myself, to calm myself. And be able to sleep anywhere.
[Last few bars of Ven singing]
[sings] “On foam or straw/to find a bed made to my size/Without worry. Bohemian. Sleep/that no remorse awakens.”
[Berthe Kayitesi speaking in French in her home, wipes away a tear]
I think that a big part of me is still there. I think that I live here physically all while living over there mentally. And even if it is not there in the sense of place, it is over there in terms of experience. All those years spent in Rwanda have made me what I am. Here, I cam as a student, in good conditions compared to all that I had known. It gave me the time to think about what I had experienced over there. The last years spent in Canada are years that have allowed me to reflect.
[Carmen Ruiz, speaking English in her home]
And I guess that—that’s my people and that’s who I am to, because you know, like I—I—I was saying about being able to face yourself throughout the creative process, and I mean, it’s something that has to happen just thoughout life in general, but like I realise how violent I can be, myself, like, how I can be aggressive, right? And, you know, that’s not something that I want to be so I just try to like work on it every day, all the time.
[Screen shows Carmen dancing in front of projected images of war and fighting]
[Text on the screen, over the shot of Carmen dancing]
Carmen Ruiz dances to counter violence,
Juxtaposing conflict with sensuality and sensitivity.
Her solo “À la limite” is a response to the war
That has devastated her native Columbia
And a call to resistance.
[Carmen Ruiz, speaking English in her home]
But, um, I guess like the whole point is how, as an individual, we can also find there is strength, a space of–um—somewhere positive—positive confidence—and our potential as individuals to sort of overcome that misery, and then become to our creative potential. And the potential that we have as individuals to link within a community.
[Berthe Kayitesi speaking in French into a microphone at a conference]
It is important that there be recognition. It is important that there be justice. For a victim to be able to come out of her victim status so that she may belong to the world again, and maybe, also open herself up to others. That was my essential message for tonight.
[Carmen Ruiz speaking English, screen shows Carmen dancing in front of projected images of war and fighting]
I feel that art has the potential to maybe help the idea of it’s ok to break the circle. It’s ok at one point to break that way of doing things in which you see the only road of doing things is revenge, or the only road you see is hate, and then you may be able to just put all of that—express it through something else. To get it out and then understand that there is creative way to be creative and I think of creation, and re-creation, right, so, it doesn’t have to be destruction. It can be creating. So that’s to me a way of how I see it.
CREDITS [Music Playing]
Edited by Paul Tom
Edible Landscape
Last summer I had a post up here about landscaping, which, after going through the pictures and reminiscing I thought to re-post. I hope to get back sometime this summer and see the garden I made a year later.
You can see the plan here: Edible Landscape
And the post:
I have created a space in the backyard with my host’s permission to experiment with edible landscaping. The photos attached are of a work in progress, which so far includes:
- Two kinds of tomatoes (annuals)
- Green bell peppers (annuals)
- Daylilies (edible perennial flowers)
- Two varieties of hardy blueberries (two varieties required for cross-pollination)
- Two varieties of ‘Honeyberry’ (a cross between a blueberry and a honeysuckle which requires cross-pollination)
- A Wentworth American Cranberry
- Two varieties of strawberries (perennial, one with large berries and one with small, ornamental fruit)
- Two kinds of Saskatoon shrubs
- A strawberry rhubarb plant
- A gooseberry plant
- A black currant plant
- Two different grapes (which are hardy to Alberta provided they have winter protection)
- A Nanking sweet cherry and a Carmine Jewel sour cherry
The family also has three established apple trees in the yard, one that I am using as the centrepiece to the edible garden. I am also hoping to get my hands of some nasturtiums, which are edible annual flowers, and a hardy Kiwi vine (because who would have thought one could grow a type of kiwi in Alberta!)
I am trying to complete the landscape with sustainability in mind, because Alberta is in the midst of one of its regular droughts. The best thing I have found so far, which you can see in the flower planters I made, is a clay stake which slowly (through osmosis) releases a wine-bottle full of water into the soil, so none of the water spills or soaks right through and the plants are always moist.
SPRINKLE: A Journal of Sexual Diversity Studies
Exciting news: I’ve been published in SPRINKLE: A Journal of Sexual Diversity Studies! SPRINKLE started as a McGill project in the Sexual Diversity Studies Department, but this year there were contributors from McGill, Carlton, Yale, Concordia, Harvard, Stanford, the Montreal community, and several Colleges.
You can see the release page here, or you can download the whole journal for free: Sprinkle, Vol. 3
My entry is called “Sexual Diversity in Canadian Healthcare: The Policing and Pathologising of Gender-/Sex-Variant Lives.”
Also, a friend of mine wrote “Dudes, Bros, Boyfriends, and Bugarrones: Redistributing the Stigma of Same-Sex Desire,” which I highly recommend reading.
Below is the Table of Contents — give some of these fine papers a read if you have the time!
Blogging Against Disablism day will be on Saturday, 1st May. This is the day where all around the world, disabled and non-disabled people will blog about their experiences, observations and thoughts about disability discrimination. In this way, we hope to raise awareness of inequality, promote equality and celebrate the progress we’ve made.
Feminism and the Myth of Independence
Part of my early attraction to feminism was based upon this notion of a mythic “independence.” I yearned for the opportunity to be an “emancipated woman,” à la Emma Goldman, who asserted that,
“Emancipation should make it possible for woman to be human in the truest sense. Everything within her that craves assertion and activity should reach its fullest expression; all artificial barriers should be broken, and the road towards greater freedom cleared of every trace of centuries of submission and slavery.”
It seems like a noble enough goal, and indeed, an important part of the privileged Western feminist ideology is based on the construction of the smart, successful, independent woman; this is especially true of Libertarian/Individual feminisms, Liberal feminisms, Pop feminisms, and Amazon feminisms. Reproductive choice, and women’s liberation discourses also use the language of independence, and a lot of pseudo-feminist, or “Liz Lemonist” cultural products are predicated upon this notion as well, such as Cosmo (“fun, fearless, female”).
Additionally, some of the things that awakened my early sense of “Girl Power,” a precursor to my feminism, also showcased this idea of independence, both financial and personal. Girl Power is defined by the Oxford English Dictionary as such:
“Power exercised by girls; spec. a self-reliant attitude among girls and young women manifested in ambition, assertiveness, and individualism.”
Some inspirations included:
- Destiny’s Child’s “Independent Women,” (and Charlie’s Angels) and “Survivor” (which interestingly has gender neutral lyrics)
- Jennifer Lopez’s “Love Don’t Cost a Thing“
- The Spice Girls
- The Powerpuff Girls
- Buffy the Vampire Slayer
On a larger scale, the ideas of independence and individualism are also foundational to to the construction of a “Western” ideology. From meritocracy to the importance of identity construction, from the binaristic othering of “Eastern” ideologies as “collectivist,” to the speculative fiction trope “fear of assimilation“; the achievement and maintenance of independence is a value that is freely espoused as good in its own right.
In terms of my own personal identity, having minimal ties with my family, I often prided myself on my financial independence, my self-funding of my undergraduate degree, my scholarships, my CV, my transcript, and other individual achievements. These were the markers of my feminism — my reminders that women in the past had worked hard to open doors for women like me — never mind that those same doors weren’t accessible to most people who don’t have white privilege, thin privilege, class privilege, educational privilege, Western privilege, cis privilege, Anglophone/English privilege, blonde privilege, and able privilege. At a previous point, though not anymore, I also had Christian and heterosexual privilege; the only one I was ever missing was male privilege.
My “independence” — my “success” — was reliant upon systems of domination. Therefore I never really was independent, because in constructing this narrative of self-reliance about myself, I denied not only my privileges, but my support networks as well. I denied the fact that in defining my own success as such, I was tacitly approving of the systems of domination from which I benefit.
Independence or the pursuit thereof is a pursuit of privilege; the less that one has to depend on networks and relationships the more “successful” that person is. This is a profoundly ableist notion, in the sense that it constructs any sort of dependency as an obstacle to “success,” and because of the way our society is structured, people who are disabled are neccessarily dependent on various support systems. Additionally, no one is truly independent from eir privileges, networks, and communities, but the social construction of disability as a state of dependence vis-à-vis ablility as a state of independence denies just how interdependent we all are, whether is through exploiting, dominating, or supporting one another.
The Myth Meets the Reality: Making “Success” an Inclusive Goal
In moving beyond the ableist myth of independence, privileged feminisms have the opportunity to create safer spaces for disabled feminists. Moreover, in interrogating this myth, we can open up a larger conversation about privilege in feminism: to what extent does the myth of independence factor in to other systems of domination? How are privileged Western feminisms complicit in maintaining different systems of domination? In redefining our paradigms about what constitutes “success,” how can we combat not just ableism, but other privileges?
What if instead of deriving so much pride from our independence, we took pride in our networks and community memberships? This is not to say that we cannot be proud of both, however, the exaggerated emphasis on independence, emancipation, and liberation in privileged Western feminisms bars important members of our feminist communities from participating fully.
It also leads more privileged feminisms to devalue systems on which a lot of women choose to be and/or are dependent:
- excluding people who have strong ties to religion (ie. Islamic feminists, and Christian womanists),
- excluding people who have strong ties to tradition and community memberships (ie. women who choose to undergo female circumcision, women who choose to wear the niqab),
- excluding people who are actively subjugated by imperialism, racism, and colonialism and thus depend on community systems for survival and resistance (ie. transnational feminists, indigenous feminists),
- and excluding people whose social justice interests are not solely related to gender emancipation, and thus depend on various networks (ie. women of colour, low-income women, immigrant women).
Furthermore, the myth of independence encourages privileged feminists to buy in to capitalist and consumer culture: being a “have” as opposed to a “have not,” and not having to share resources are the yardsticks against which independence is measured, which leads to environmental degradation. Individualism and independence are things that one can buy at the expense of those that are exploited in capitalist relations.
My point here for privileged feminists like myself is this: can be ambitious and assertive without having to pretend that we are self-reliant and independent; no one is really independent. We can be confident and successful without having to pretend that these attributes are totally individual. We can take pride in our accomplishments and still recognise our privileges and the networks/communities that have enabled us to do the things we do. We can re-define the meaning of success beyond the masculinist paradigm of individualism, and create a feminist paradigm of success. In doing so, we can combat priviliged behavior and ableism in our feminist communities.
In conclusion, my questions for you, readers, are:
- What would a feminist paradigm of success look like?
- If we remove all of the oppressive and privileged ideas from the standard definition of success, such as independence, what is left?
- Is there an anti-oppressive way to think about success?
Learn More about Feminism and Able-ism (a.k.a Disablism)
FWD (Feminists with Disabilities) for a Way Forward
Blogging Against Disablism Day 2010
Feminists are fine with being bigots if it’s just ableism
————————————————————–
Thank you to the following bloggers/websites for quoting/supporting this post:
Diary of a Goldfish (Blogging Against Disablism Day 2010)
“The issue of independence has always been kind of problematic for me as a person with disabilities. I will always be dependent, whether it’s on my parents as it is right now and on my service dog the near future. That’s just how my life works. I need a network, a community or I’m sunk.
These things are true even in a world free from ableism. It’s taken a lot for me to stop hating on myself for not being able to do things people my age are doing and it’s compounded by the fact that I look abled. I still do hate on myself about it, actually.
Anyhow when we talk about independence as the end all be all of human existence, it can be kind of alienating. It’s good to have free to make choices, but even in a prefect world, some of us won’t be free from ties to others.”
. . .
“I’ve felt that individualism has been an incredibly problematic force in feminism in US culture but I’d never thought about the concept of independence or how those two ideas work together to create a shallow, problematic, reductionist brand of feminism that is really alienating.”
FWD (Feminists With Disabilities) For a Way Forward
And to the folk on Tumblr:
So I went to a protest a little while ago — more specifically, a demonstration against the Islamophobic, sexist, ableist, and racist Bill 94 here in Quebec — and I was struck by both the low attendance (between 60 and 120 according to news outlets), and the demographic composition of the attendees. Based on my conversations and observations, the main groups of people that I observed were:
- Muslim women who wear the niqab, hijab, or no covering at all, and their male friends, husbands, partners, relatives, counterparts, children, etc.
- Representatives of other faiths showing solidarity (Jewish organizations and Montreal’s Anglican diocese)
- Representatives from groups such as the South Asian Women’s Association
- A small group of language teachers, who were responding to the incident that provoked all of this hubbub (wherein a woman was expelled from her language class for refusing to take off her niqab) by asserting that they can teach a student with a covered face just fine, and it is insulting to their profession that the government should think otherwise
- Libertarians, who oppose any government intervention of this type
- GLB, Queer, Trans, and gender-variant folks, who felt compelled to show solidarity because this bill is a human rights violation, and also because government prohibitions on certain types of clothing (hoodies, for a facetious example) could just as easily adversely affect them in the future (“THEY CAME FIRST for the women wearing the niqab, and I didn’t speak up because I didn’t wear a niqab…)
- Social-justice activists and academics, including the 2110 Centre for Gender Advocacy, and the representatives from the Simone de Beauvoir Institute (who also released and handed out a statement on the matter); these protesters rightly asserted that “tearing the clothing off of women’s bodies is violence against women.”
Maybe I just don’t go to enough protests, but it seems like such a blatant human rights violation would attract more attention, I mean, more than 120 protesters. Unfortunately, Bill 94 is supported by over 95% of Quebecers, and 4/5 Canadians, so I understand that it is not popular to oppose it. However, I’ll be damned if I have not personally met well over 120 feminists in Montreal — where the hell were they?
I wasn’t as angered about this dearth of feminist interest in an OBVIOUS feminist issue until the recent furor over the Facebook “Boobquake” (67,003 attendees) and “Brainquake” (1484 attendees), and more recently the “Femquake” (331 attendees) taking place today, all of which have collectively garnered hundreds of times the support of the protest I attended. I understand that it is easier to click “like” on Facebook than it is to get your ass down to city hall, especially when one does not live in Montreal, but before any more folks break out the patronising “obvious logical” response to this disparity, please consider that the protest comparison is an illustrative point.
The three events were started in response to an Iranian cleric’s proclamations about women’s immodesty and promiscuity causing earthquakes, and have subsequently been supported by members of such prominent feminist sites as Feministing.com, Jezebel.com, and Feministe.com. I was initially intrigued by the idea as a sort of campy and playful way to collectively disprove an idea, but after about 5 minutes of perusal, it became glaringly apparent that this North American response to an Iranian cleric was more about Islamophobia and ethnocentrism than the rights of Muslim women. The events are a vector for the co-option of feminist rhetoric to further objectify women, and a demonstration of the smug North American sense of moral and developmental superiority over those “other” brown folks in the Middle East. The people who should REALLY be leading the response to the statements made by the cleric are IRANIAN and MUSLIM WOMEN, who have, you know, the LIVED EXPERIENCE of dealing with these statements every day, but their voices are silenced by us obnoxious and entitled white-educated-secular types who feel the need to make a BOOBQUAKE instead of really listening and standing in solidarity. Our form of protest also bars and mocks women who CHOOSE to dress modestly — such as women who wear the niqab – from participating in and being at the forefront of the protest, a protest which actually affects their lives far more than ours.
Therefore I ask: why is it so easy for feminists to organise around a chance to show off some cleavage in order to belittle one man overseas who would police the lives of Muslim women, whereas it is so difficult to get feminists to organise around a chance to protest a powerful provincial government who would police the lives of Muslim women?
To quote the above statement from the Simone de Beauvoir Institute about Bill 94:
“As feminists, we are committed to supporting bodily and personal autonomy for all women, as well as all women’s capacity to understand and articulate their experiences of oppression on their own terms.”
Or at least we SHOULD BE committed to doing so, but we are really just paying intersectionality lip service when we pull stunts like these Boob-, and Fem- quakes. I am sure there is a good idea there, but the cause around which we’ve rallied — the “othering” and demeaning of Islam as backward and oppressive — fuels wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, racist immigration laws, racial profiling in airports, “reasonable accommodation,” and legislation like Bill 94. My feminism won’t be complicit in that.
It is time for this to change. Feminism should not avoid its domestic problems while subjecting others to a scrutinizing neo-colonial gaze: it’s time for Western feminists to stop talking about Female Genital Cutting abroad with such moral authority, and to start talking about the unnecessary surgical procedures performed on Intersex children in North America; it’s time for non-Muslim women to stop talking about the hijab, and start talking about the high heel; it’s time for white feminists to stop telling womanists who they are, and to start interrogating the racial problems of the feminist movement; it’s time for hipster feminists to stop accusing indigenous feminists of being “angry,” and to start talking about what it means to live on stolen land.
It’s time for us feminists to own up to our own privileges.
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NOTE: I am getting a lot of traffic and commenting on this post, so just to save everyone some time before you comment:
Here are some things I am NOT saying:
- that everyone needs to fly up to Canada and protest, or else you are a bad feminist
- that YOU PERSONALLY are a terrible person for ‘Boobquaking,’ or having white/Western privilege
- that we shouldn’t talk about FGC, and the hijab, etc. EVER
- that feminists can’t multitask and care about lots of things
Things that I AM saying:
- the ‘Boobquake’ is patronising
- the ‘Boobquake’ prioritises the experiences and reactions of Westerners
- a lot of the discussion surrounding the ‘Boobquake’ is steeped in privilege
- we should talk about these things — like FGC, the hijab, and Iranian clerics – but without ‘moral authority’ (as if we are the arbiters over other people who have been historically marginalised by people like us). Voices of the people with the lived experience should ALWAYS be prioritised. We don’t take to kindly to cis men setting the agendas and determining the responses of feminism, but we seem to feel comfortable defining those things for women overseas.
Strawman arguments that I will not put through moderation:
- that I am suggesting that: ‘feminists can’t care about a lot of things at once,’ (we can and do, but sometimes we silence others in the process)
- that ‘it is discriminatory towards privileged people that they can’t talk about everything with authority’ (reverse-discrimination arguments don’t fly here, maybe they do elsewhere, but I don’t buy it.)
- that ‘judging and critiquing other culture’s practices does not mean I am positing myself as superior’ (Oh but it does…)
- that ‘Muslim women over there don’t speak for themselves, so we must speak for them’ (this is really not true, Google is your friend, let’s take a break and LISTEN instead of always TALKING.)
- That I am the ‘condescending feminist police’ (c’mon, I am calling out prejudice and privilege when I see it, I would expect the same from anyone else if I were acting in a privileged way, in fact, I HAVE been called on my white privileged bullshit before when it comes to race: see this thread; we live and learn. Learning to listen and take criticism is part of learning to be an ally.)
And after all that, I would like to say, thank you for reading! Let’s get some good discussion going.
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Thank you to the following bloggers/websites for quoting/supporting this post:
“So I have to tell you that I’ve wondered quite a bit about what “my feminism” looks like in the past 24 hours. I’ve asked myself some hard questions about internalized misogyny—and also whether I’m going to just agree with the idea that anything someone wants to do, whether out of a desire to produce activism or satire, is a good thing for feminist causes. I’ve wondered about what “our” feminism looks like, and whether it’s really just paying lip service to intersectionality. And frankly, in some ways it’s difficult to avoid that conclusion. I don’t, for example, think it’s an accident that when we write about trans health, or immigration, or racism, that no one gives a shit, while the mere mention of the fucking Boobquake brings everyone out of the woodwork. And I don’t think that this is a trend we’re alone in, as I’ve noticed it a bit throughout the feminist blogosphere.
This is a problem. It’s not a problem because I’m soooo much more awesome at being intersectional than you. I’m not trying to hold myself up as an example here; I agreed that I made a mistake by not being clearer in my last post. But I am saying that there’s something legitimate to worry about in the Boobquake situation—not in the pearl-clutching way, but in the “hey, this maybe isn’t doing the thing that it’s supposed to be doing” way, or even the “hey, what you’re doing right now is patronizing and demeaning of a bunch of people” way. And I think that if we can’t fucking say that, if we can’t wonder about whether our words and actions have (even unforeseen) effects that are actually counter-productive to feminist or anti-oppressive goals…well, then, I’m not sure what we’re doing here.“
“. . .it is striking to see what feminists in North America and Europe choose to protest when it comes to subjects affecting Muslims. While the Boobquake inundated Facebook and Twitter, there were barely a few lone feminist voices protesting the niqab ban in Quebec. What is wrong with these white privileged feminists, one wonders.”
“The author made a very good point about the huge amount of viral support for Boobquake compared to the lack of attendance at a protest against Quebec’s racist, sexist Bill 94 which bans the niqab in a ton of situations and is basic religious oppression at its worst. I saw a lot of western feminists whine at this comparison – obviously we can’t all get our asses to Quebec to protest, whereas clicking on a Facebook link is easy - but the author’s point still stands. Boobquake isn’t just popular because it’s easy “activism” – it’s popular because it cuts across ideological lines to condemn and mock another culture and religion, one that is widely feared and derided in the west.”
The Non / No Bill 94 Coalition
“Aside from my own feelings of discomfort at being told that I was a bad feminist by not getting my tits out, there was something else that struck me as not quite right, though it took most of the day for me to properly put my finger on it.”
“Some Iranian cleric said something about women dressing immodestly causing earthquakes and Western feminists decided to protest through the radical activity of posting pictures of their cleavage on Facebook. This then resulted in other feminists engaging in the also radical activity of slut-shaming and deciding to host a “brainquake” for feminists who are too smart to post their cleavage on Facebook. There was also a “Femquake” but I don’t know what that involved. Meanwhile, Iranian women’s calls for solidarity went ignored.”
“. . .it’s painfully obvious that western feminism really has no friggin clue how to think outside it’s own box a lot of the time: Iran Gender Equality – A little bit of a reality check.”
“Time we rethink our priorities.”
“A lot of the rhetoric that comes with something like Boobquake also often comes from a point that is disturbingly racist and imperialist. The idea that Muslim women are always subjugated and must be stupid because they pick a religion that oppresses them; that to dress modestly is to play into patriarchal sentiments like the cleric’s statements (which is an interesting contrast to the Boobquake counter-protests); that Muslim women can’t speak for themselves.
I’ve had to call out people on their highly limited views on the burqa, niqab, hijab, or other Muslim veil. On their assumption that Female Genital Mutilation is inherently a Muslim thing. That Muslims are more interested in terrorism than in “assimilating” to local culture. There is a lack of awareness of different cultural norms, of the difference between culture and religion, of historical significance, of time, of having a different perspective on life. Hell, even things like “the burqa must be really uncomfortable!” when it’s actually really handy for sandstorms and besides, a lot of women’s shoes aren’t very comfortable either!
It takes away the agency of the woman, her right to make up her own damn mind about how she expresses her faith, or what her faith is. Whether she wants to show her boobs or cover them up – that’s her choice.
There’s also a disturbing anti-theistic “haha see religious people don’t know science” view streaming through. A lot of militant atheists and anti-theists claim that the mere existence of religion is the cause of human suffering, and that without religion or superstitious beliefs we’d all be better off. However, they’re coming from a very limited, Western-centric view of religion that assumes all religious people fervently pray to a Bearded Man in the Sky in exchange for points, completely ignoring that for many “religious” people there isn’t even a single deity. Stuff they dismiss as superstition (alternative medicine is a good example) is stuff that people from a lot of different cultures know (not just believe) to be true, based on their own history and experience. I’d like to see someone like Richard Dawkins try to tell Aboriginal elders that their stories and cultures were based on falsehoods (if only so they could respond with “you ignorant white boy” and maybe give him a whack on the head). There’s no consideration as to context; everything’s dissected from a white Western privileged viewpoint.”
And to folks on Tumblr who’ve quoted this post:
- Think on This (abbyjean)
- One Bad Cripple (annaham)
- The Unscientific Method
- She Thinks
- Random Findings
- Robot Heart: Sex, Religion, Politics
- Baubles of My Mind’s Eye
- Starting Over
- Jane Doe #225
- AfghaniPoppy
- Wear Sunscreen (edibleshoes)
- encasements
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Additional Reading:
Baring Beauty or Brains? Debate over “Earthquake” Comment Splits Feminist Activists
“It doesn’t help Iranian women get longer maternal leave,” she says. “It doesn’t provide better health care. It doesn’t help them get jobs. It doesn’t achieve anything, other than to create entertainment.”
. . .
Moreover, Bashi says Iran already boasts a vibrant feminist community that fiercely responded to Sedighi’s incendiary claims.
“People think that women in Iran are just sitting back and accepting these words from the cleric,” she says, heatedly. “It’s just not true. Women in Iran respond to every single, stupid thing that is said by its leaders.”
. . .
“Obviously, Jen McCreight is an intelligent woman,” Bashi says. “She’s probably among the brightest young women in the country. But the joke is on Iranian women—the joke she started.”
As a counterpoint, Bashi questions why Western media would focus on a Muslim cleric’s comment when so many non-Muslim religious leaders make equally backward remarks.
“Is it a fascination with the Eastern, the supposedly more primitive Muslim nation?” she asks.
As an alternative to participating in Boobquake, Bashi suggests women would do Iranian women more good by donating to causes that advocate their rights, such as Amnesty International or Human Rights Watch.
The Niqab ban is a feminist issue
“Now the intersection — what are feminists saying about this issue?
To me this is an obvious feminist issue through and through, and it goes way beyond a human rights injustice. I’m checking myself as an ally to Muslim women, and supporting their right to bodily autonomy and self-determination.
However I’ll tell you this much — the amount of mainstream feminist response I’ve read regarding the lack of inclusion of contraception and abortion in maternal child health from Canada’s Conservative government in the G8 summit far exceeds the coverage I’ve seen regarding the niqab ban. In fact, I’ve barely seen any feminist press at all on the niqab ban. And I’m not surprised — reproductive rights gets lots of feminist attention, even if not mainstream media coverage. Intersecting race and culture? Not so much.”
