Leanne Rowat scoffs at the idea women lack the confidence to have a political career, to hold high office and make public policy decisions. That's a small bit of comfort to the ears of a battle-axe feminist who long ago lost hope that the gender imbalance would change in a generation or two.
I think Canadian women have shied at politics (with confidence playing a pivotal role) because the rules have been written by men, giving them an enduring advantage, and because of reasons organically related to gender -- it's hard to be confident when your body's being judged, when your fitness as a mother leaving the chicks in the nest is being questioned.
The Conservative MLA from Minnedosa thinks it's all about "timing."
Timing, another way to say "fitting it in," historically meant that most women in the halls of power raised their kids and then entered politics. That timing effectively clipped the span of their "second" career, reducing the odds of a cabinet appointment or of vying for leadership of the party or government. With fewer female role models, politics was a firmly entrenched male domain when I was a young scribbler, working at the legislature 20 years ago.
Judy Wasylycia-Leis was an oddity back then, as a young mom, as was Sharon Carstairs, who entered politics early and for a while led Alberta Liberals.
These women oozed confidence, still do: Wasylycia-Leis caused a stir when she breastfed her baby in public at the legislative building, an act that she has described as having done more for raising the profile of women in politics than any number of speeches; Sharon Carstairs did the near impossible in 1988, bringing the Liberals to Official Opposition status in Manitoba, with a woman at the helm and 19 MLAs riding on her coattails.
Today more young women are winning office, but still their numbers are few. At 18 female MLAs, less than 40 per cent of the legislature, Manitoba has the highest proportion of women sitting. Less than 20 per cent of Canada's MPs are women.
That's precious little progress.
I've been reading my way through a collection of columns by Christina McCall, who died three years ago. A powerhouse political scribe, she is best known for chronicling the Liberal party of Canada over almost half a century in journalism, largely in magazines and books. My Life As A Dame (Anansi), edited by Stephen Clarkson, is just on the shelves. Many of the columns speak to the place of women in society, skewering their weaknesses (turning on each other) and celebrating the strengths, one of which was to persevere in a world of sexist stereotypes.
In one chapter, she poses the question: "What's holding us back?" Her answer is that, even by the 1980s, women had not cottoned onto the male game of politics: forging alliances of interest, horse-trading support and hooking up to promote a likely winner in order to cash in on loyalty rewards down the line. Women, McCall reflected in 1982, tended to gather around a common issue or agenda that advanced the collective interests of gender. They remained, in a male-dominated system, in roles as support staff, backbench cheerleaders and sacrificial candidates in long-shot ridings. Another observation was that as women broke into the political game, they fell victim to their own insecurities, their need to be "fathered" in order to stay in the game, as opposed to men who boldly soldiered on, believing in a natural entitlement to be in the big league.
Sexism was rampant: McCall retells a story about a senior Liberal sent to lobby an interest group at an international function who was dismissed publicly as a dame with small boobs by a prominent lech. Reading this throw-back got me wondering whether Canada has progressed so much in 25 years. There remains an embarrassing deficit of women in politics, particularly in high offices. Carstairs points out Canada has never had a female finance minister, nor has a woman been elected as prime minister.
Both Rowat and Carstairs, their campaigning careers separated by the passage of decades, have experienced questions at the doorstep about whether as mothers and wives they ought to be in politics. Yet both see progress at hand, both in the political game and in women's political maturity, reflected in the fact more younger women are running.
Circumstances are changing to meet the needs of women -- men are more likely to take on the responsibilities of the home and child rearing; the Manitoba legislature accommodates families now, having moved away from the late night sessions in committees, for example, that were standard decades ago.
All good, to which I would add the fact Belinda Stronach stepped out of a safe and lucrative corporate career to run for leadership of the Conservative party and Martha Hall Findlay put on a credible contest for the Liberal leadership. Further, Findlay, now an MP, has time yet to launch another bid.
But buffering all the optimism is the fact men disproportionately get elected and still dominate leadership across Canada. Politics, with its high currency on classic networking and the expense entailed to challenge for power, remains a male game. And women are much more likely to be turned off by the muckraking and mud flinging that remains the stock in trade, that they can be particularly vulnerable to.
If McCall were still alive, she could still be writing about politics as hostile ground for half the population. The days when a female politician could be sexually demeaned are not gone: Belinda Stronach was called out as a whore with very little blow back on the accusers.
Sexism remains a potent disincentive, but I have to agree with the importance of "timing," as Rowat called it.
When someone enters politics, family becomes secondary. That sacrifice is too great for a lot of mothers, naturally reducing the pool from which young women politicians can be drawn. That will remain as it ever was, even if everything else in the political game miraculously moves light years to accommodate women.
catherine.mitchell@freepress.mb.ca
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