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1NC SHORT
War is not an event, it’s a continuum threaded at every point by gender—the
aff misdiagnoses the problem by adopting a disembodied lens of analysis—
vote neg to constitute a social program that rewrites the script of
masculinity—that links up with global feminist movements to confront the
root cause of war
Cockburn 15 – feminist researcher and writer, honorary professor in Sociology at City
University London and at the Centre for the Study of Women and Gender at the University of
Warwick (Cynthia Cockburn, “World disarmament? Stop by disarming masculinity,” 4/20/2015,
https://www.opendemocracy.net/en/5050/world-disarmament-start-by-disarming-
masculinity/)//cpark
On the face of it, the two preoccupations, one with gender relations and the other with global military spending, may seem
to have little connection. The first speaks of the human, intimate, individual and personal; the other of the machinery of
war, missiles and military commands. And indeed the mainstream peace movements, comprising both men and women,
tend not make the mental leap that is needed to bring them into a common analytic frame. On the other hand, it’s
characteristic of the women’s peace movements, such as the Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom, the
international network of Women in Black against War, and hundreds of smaller, more local women’s peace initiatives, that
they do so. And the particular feature of gender relations they point to is the persistence of male
dominance, accompanied (and indeed achieved) by the insistent shaping of masculinity,
the ideal, preferred, form of manhood, as mentally competitive and combative;
psychologically ready to use coercion; and physically equipped to prevail through force.
Over a span of twenty years I’ve had the privilege to meet and work with such groups of feminist activists, in a dozen
countries, many of them in the Global South. They are generating a more and more coherent narrative
about the causes of war. One of the things I’ve learned from them is that war doesn’t
stand alone. It's helpful to see it as part of a continuum of violence. That continuum persists
along a scale of force (fist to bomb), a scale of time (peacetime, prewar, wartime, postwar), a scale of place (bedroom, city,
continent) and so on. As peace activists, they say, we have to look for the organizational, economic, social and
psychological connections along the continuum and address it as a whole. One of the things they notice is that gender
is a thread running through the continua in every direction. Men and women,
masculinity and femininity, in relation to each other, feature throughout the spectrum of
violence. A good example of women activists who clarify and alert us to a precise link in the
gendered continuum of violence is the remarkable project in Israel called Gun-Free
Kitchen Tables. They protest against the death and wounding of women, wives and
partners in everyday life by soldiers and police with weapons they take home with them.
These activists point out, loud and clear, that militarism doesn't stay in the barracks. It comes in the front door, it hangs in
the closet. On a more global level, the women’s mobilization within IANSA, the International
Action Network on Small Arms and Light Weapons, successfully pressed the United
Nations, during negotiation of the Arms Trade Treaty, to acknowledge precisely what women such as
those of Gun Free Kitchen Tables have been telling us - the significance of guns in women’s lives and
deaths. Another example of continuum-thinking is Okinawan Women Act Against Military Violence
(OWAAMV), who insist on the connection between the violence inherent in the massive
weaponry of the US military whose bases weigh upon their islands and the frequent rape
and abuse of individual women by individual soldiers. Suzuyo Takazato, one of its founders, spoke
graphically to me of the connection between patriarchy and militarization, both experienced every day on her Okinawan
islands as violent systems, inextricably linked. Of course, the word patriarchy does have an old-fashioned ring to it.
Many ‘Westerners’ like to suppose that, in ‘the West’, in the post-Enlightenment era, actual rule
by the patriarchal head of family faded away. But Carole Pateman in her memorable book, The Sexual
Contract, has left no room for doubt that a different version of male dominance has been
substituted for rule by the fathers in modern times: it is the rule of the brothers. And we are
still searching for a word to designate this updated male supremacism. Fratriarchy, perhaps, or andrarchy, androcracy?
Take your pick. Personally, I like ‘phallocracy’. But ‘patriarchy’ seems to be hanging in there. Seeing war from
their close-in vantage point leads Suzuyo Takato and other feminist antimilitarists to identify
three main causes. They don’t necessarily put patriarchy first. They may rather stress, in the first place, economic factors
such as control of exploitable resources, and of markets. These are often the immediate cause of war. A second causal
factor they often cite is political: lines drawn between self-defining groups, 'us' and 'others'. The
nation state system involves multiple struggles over borders. Borders divide one rival state from another, but usually fail
to align with the borders of ethnic, cultural and religious groups that sometimes fight each other – maybe for domination
of the state, or simply for recognition and rights. Racism features in this cause of war, especially white supremacism. So,
the economic order, the nation state system - what then of the sex-gender order? The feminist analysis tends to
represent patriarchy, not necessarily as an immediate, precipitating factor in war, but as
a ‘root’ cause, something that predisposes societies to militarism and war fighting, that
makes war always already likely. In this sense, the feminist analysis of war is ‘wholistic’,
it sees multiple causes of war working together. After all, they emerged together, historically. Gerder
Lerner’s book, The Creation of Patriarchy, usefully takes us back to the Upper Neolithic. Gradually, from tribal and village
society there emerged a property-owning class, a system of city states - eventually
empires – and the patriarchal, patrilineal family. Only then were the first standing
armies created, for the protection and extension of privilege. War is the child not of
barbarism but of ‘civilization’. Of course these systems, dimensions, processes of power are inter-related –
‘intersected’ if you like. You see them working together in all the institutions around us: class, ‘race’ and gender power are
present in a bank, in a government, in a religious structure, in a family even. Watching the evening news, as we relaxed
from the Conference during the week of debate and discussion, we saw reports of rioting in Baltimore. How could we
escape making the link between economic inequality, racial oppression and masculine violence, watching these events on
American streets and in the prisons? Those news reports were a reminder, besides, that patriarchy is not only a
hierarchy situating men above women. It’s a hierarchical ranking among and between
men too. Sometimes feminists are made to feel that in challenging patriarchy we are
‘blaming men’. Our analysis doesn’t blame men. It blames a system that deforms men.
Several men were present among us at the WILPF events. Especially welcome were those who shared their experience as
activists in organizations of men coming together to address male violence, such as Sonke Gender Justice, of South Africa,
and the gender justice information network Engaging Men. Together we applied ourselves to devising strategies for
disarming masculinity. We are convinced, after all, as feminists, that gender identities and behaviours are
socially shaped, that we don't have to shrug and say 'nothing can be done - it's all given
in the genes'. But where, concretely, are the social programmes that set about
transforming gender relations and rewriting the script of masculinity? They are few and far
between. In the UK, for instance, where there is increasing concern over men’s abuse of women and girls, the policy
response is ‘protection’ of the victims. ‘We must take more care of women and girls.’ Policy makers don’t look
for the man behind the neutral word ‘abuser’, ‘predator’, ‘offender’.They don’t ask ‘What
is it with men?’ They don’t have a plan of action. Meantime, a tsunami of cultural products, video games
such as Advanced Warfare and films like American Sniper, bombard men and boys with the idea that militarized men are
desirable men.
1NC LONG
Disarming countries won’t disarm minds—the aff doesn’t reduce weapons, it
shifts them to the private sphere where their fundamentally gendered
impacts are made invisible
Aoláin 17 – Robina Chair in Law, Public Policy and Society at the University of Minnesota Law
School and a Chair in Law, University of Ulster’s Transitional Justice Institute, Consultant to and
expert for a number of institutions including UN Women & OHCHR, Member of the Joint
Committee of Northern Ireland Human Rights Commission and Irish Commission for Human
Rights created by the Good Friday/Belfast Agreement, LLB from Queens University, LLM from
Colombia Law School; PhD in Law from Queens University (Fionnauala Ní Aoláin, “The
Aftermath of War,” March 2017,
https://www.researchgate.net/publication/318586041_Women_gender_equality_and_post-
conflict_transformation_Lessons_learned_implications_for_the_future)//cpark
From a gender perspective a number of issues arise. First, what constitutes disarmament
sufficient to satisfy a ceasefire requirement in the political/military sense may not in fact
entail the removal of all such weapons from the public and, more importantly, the private
sphere. Maintenance of weapons in the pri- vate sphere, and the lack of security
establishment interest in the wholesale shift of guns from public combatant use to
private nefarious use (including inflict- ing intimate violence harm) is an ongoing concern to feminist
observers of DDR processes. Second, a perhaps trite but true observation is that the disarmament of
weapons is not the disarmament of minds. Working this through we find the
underlying social psychological dimensions that, in a conflicted society, have supported
the resort to violence and the elevation of particular forms of masculin- ity that accompany it,
are not in any sense undermined or addressed by a formal disarmament process. Thus, as
noted above, a key issue to be addressed concern- ing violence in conflicted
societies is what exactly is meant by the term “ending violence” and being
prepared to address the vexed relationship between violence and masculine
identity in conflicted societies. In the parlance of ending public violence or internal conflict this
conversation revolves around decommissioning weapons and getting armed paramilitaries/insurgents to swap violent
confronta- tion for peaceful political debate about contested issues. However, this kind of discussion rarely
engages with the fundamental requirement of changing deep- seated social attitudes
toward the use of violence and the ways in which identity construction has become fused
for many men with violent expressionism. Atti- tudinal change is critical and
undervalued. For women, it means that while guns may physically no longer be present
in public spaces, this does not change a social pathology that makes the use of violence
acceptable (whether in the private or public sphere). A highly complex issue that arises in the context of
identifying and managing the forms and facilitators of violence in many transitional societies is the
relationship between disarmament and intimate violence. The quandaries have been graphically
identified in such transitional societies as South Africa, where the perceived escala- tion of domestic
violence rates post-apartheid have raised deep concerns about the relationship between
pre-existing apartheid violence and its spillover to a transi- tional society. There is evidence
that post-conflict societies do (at least) statistically experience greater proportions of domestic
and intimate violence. McWilliams has argued that domestic violence experienced by women during conflict may
be more severe in its form (particularly in ethno-national conflicts) because the resort to external mediation of such
violence (e.g., access to police) may have been entirely absent. Thus, increased reporting at the end of conflict may not
mean absolute empirical increases in violence per se; rather it may simply mean that reporting is possible where it was not
previously, and in fact, the forms of violence may be more muted. Attention to the “spillover” between conflict-related
sexual vio- lence and intimate violence forces attention on the defining points of conflict end, transition beginning and
transition end. Increasingly the longitudinal dimensions of transition are being acknowledged, and a feminist literature
has emerged ques- tioning overly facile divisions of “pre, during and post” conflict phases. Rather, as the experience of
women in Bosnia, South Africa and Northern Ireland (see case chapters in this volume) demonstrate there are distinct
continuities to the experiences of gendered harm, and heightened violence to women during hos- tilities may take decades
to undo or realign. In this vein, it becomes clear that DDR is part of a much more complex
conversation about continuities of violence, and the challenges of staying
the course on transition to avoid the re-ignition of hostilities as well as the
reproduction of gendered harm in ordinary times. Some theorists have argued that the
reassertion of violence in the private sphere during the transitional phase constitutes a
form of compensation for male combatants, for their loss of public status and hegemony.
This is graphically shown by the psychological phenomena of the returning warrior who has, through con-
flict, normalized the use of violence and views the home as another site in which to
exercise power and control through physical force. Notably, core transitional mechanisms, for example,
truth commissions (frequently layered into a transition process that includes DDR), have rarely if ever ventured to
examine the continui- ties of violence between domestic and conflict violence, as an integral part of the accounting for the
totality of violence experienced by women at conflict’s end The disarmament process can present many
complexities for parallel account- ability mechanisms, not least because partial, incomplete or
unsatisfactory disar- mament means that there is little gap between
violations that took place during a conflict/prior regime and those taking place
post-transition. Moreover, where discharged-but-not-disarmed combatants return to their
homes and families with their weapons, the sites of violence may simply move from the
public to the private sphere. From the gendered critique of accountability mechanisms, what we learn is that
truth processes may examine the prior violence in the public sphere but will not engage in any way with the continual
violence that is facili- tated in the private sphere by non-rehabilitated and non-disarmed former combat- ants.
Security discourses are permeated by the same bias. The disconnect
between the operation and scope of the conflict-ending mechanisms and the
intimate and everyday realities of living with a former combatant for
women could hardly be more starkly contrasted.
Absent the alt, structural violence and nuclear war are inevitable
Acheson ’18 [Ray, 4-30-2018, Ray Acheson is the Director of Reaching Critical Will, the
disarmament program of the Women's International League for Peace and Freedom,
"The nuclear ban and the patriarchy: a feminist analysis of opposition to prohibiting
nuclear weapons," Taylor & Francis,
https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/21624887.2018.1468127]//ARW
The Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons (TPNW), adopted by 122 states in 2017, mounts a significant challenge
to the nuclear status quo. Two aspects of the ban-treaty project posed particular challenges to patriarchy. First, the treaty
was brought about through a deliberate discursive shift by concerned activists, academics, and diplomats – from a
discourse centred on the alleged security benefits of deterrence to a discourse centred on the urgency of disarmament.
Second, the ban was promoted through the empowerment of women, diplo- mats, and activists of the global south.
Undertaken by a collective partnership of civil society and diplomatic actors in the face of strong opposition by some of the
most militarily and economically influential countries in the world, the ban process confronted rigid international
power structures. These structures are in part maintained through the deployment of
patriarchal tactics and rhetoric to suppress the perspectives and agency of those who
might challenge those in a dominant position. In this way, banning nuclear weapons can be
read as an act of challenging patriarchy and building space for alternative approaches to
politics, including feminist and human-security-based approaches. Given the length restrictions of this
piece, I will not delve into the rich history of gender and militarism scholarship. For decades, feminists have
written and spoken about the intersections between militarism and gendered social
norms, including in the sphere of nuclear weapons. Carol Cohn’s ‘close encounter with nuclear strategic analysis,’ for
example, led to illuminating articles about the gendered coding of nuclear weapons (Cohn 1987a; Cohn 1987b). These
articles provided the foundations for a feminist analysis of nuclear war, strategy, and weapons. Along with Felicity Ruby
and Sara Ruddick, Cohn expanded the inquiry into the sense of masculine strength afforded by
nuclear weapons (2006), utilising the work of others examin- ing masculinities and militarism more broadly (e.g.
Eichler 2014; Enloe 1990; Hutchings 2008; Morgan 1994). Building on these efforts, this piece explores the gendered
characteristics of the opposition to the nuclear ban treaty. I argue that some of the rhetoric and assertions
deployed by the nuclear-armed states in opposition to the ban represent classic patriarchal tactics
to deny the realism, rationality, and the lived experience of women and others that
threaten the dominant narratives that sustain the nuclear status quo . Patriarchy and the
ban One tactic deployed to sustain patriarchy is for men in dominant positions to establish and maintain themselves as
authorities by denouncing and denigrating the views of others. In the case of the TPNW, those representing nuclear-
armed states berated other governments for supporting the ban, ridiculing their
perspectives on peace and security, and accusing them of threatening the world order,
risking total chaos. Prohibiting and eliminating nuclear weapons is neither practical nor feasible, these ‘realist’
governments assert. Those who support the prohibition of nuclear weapons are delusional. They are ‘radical dreamers’
who have ‘shot off to some other planet or outer space’ (Acheson 2015). They do not understand how to protect their
people. Their security interests do not matter – or do not exist at all (Acheson 2016). Initiatives for the
prohibition and abolition of nuclear weapons are illegitimate, naïve, destabilising. The
basis upon which these
assertions are made is usually unjustified, misinformed, and rooted in a material or
political commitment to the status quo. These claims bear some scrutiny. What is ‘practical?’ What is
‘feasible?’ How do we measure these concepts and who determines the measurements? Those who are the most
negatively affected by nuclear weapons development, testing, stockpiling, use,
and threatened use – women, indigenous peoples, the poor, inhabitants of the areas in
which the weapons and stored – are not considered reliable sources for these
determinations. Instead, critiques coming from those affected, or from those who want to elevate the voices and
perspectives of those affected, are dismissed as ‘emotional.’ During the active process of changing the nuclear discourse
through a careful examination of the huma- nitarian consequences of these weapons, representatives of the nuclear-armed
states argued that even talking about this subject is ‘emotional.’ They refused to attend the 2013–2014 multilateral
conferences in Oslo, Nayarit, and Vienna examining the huma- nitarian and environmental impacts of nuclear weapons.
The Russian delegation to the UN argued that ‘even children’ know what a nuclear weapon does, and that we should not
‘waste time on such useless topics’ (Acheson 2013). This dismissal
is highly gendered . When those
flexing their ‘masculinity’ want to demon- strate or reinforce their power and dominance,
they try to make others seem small and marginalised by accusing them of being
emotional, overwrought, irrational, or impractical. Women and gender-non-conforming
people have experienced this technique of dismissal and denigration for as long as
gender hierarchies have existed. It is well established in feminist literature that binary
comparisons and contrasts such as strength/weakness and reason/emotion are
gendered, with strength and reason associated with masculinity and emotion
and weakness with femininity . The denial of reason in one’s interlocutor is destabilising. It is an
attempt to take away the ground on which the other stands, projecting illusions about what is real, what makes sense, or
what is rational. One actor proclaims, ‘I am the only one who under- stands what the real situation is. Your understanding
of the situation is not just incorrect, it is delusional – it is based upon a reality that does not exist.’ This approach
places Self as subject and the Other as object, eliminating the Other’s sense of and
eventually capacity for agency. In the case of the nuclear ban, it is not just the reason or rationality of those
supporting the prohibition and elimination of nuclear weapons that is denied by the nuclear-armed states. It is also the
lived experience of everyone who has ever suffered from a nuclear explosion, or mining of nuclear material, or dumping of
nuclear waste. This tactic is more than just an argument or a difference in interpretation. It is an attempt to
undermine, discredit, and ultimately destroy an interlocutor’s entire worldview in order
to maintain power and privilege. In the terminology of psychological abuse in relationships, this tactic is
known as gas lighting. This is a form of manipulation that seeks to make the victims question their own sanity or sense of
rationality (Leve 2017). It has effectively been used to silence and oppress people, women in particular, and was deployed
in opposition in the ban to suppress those speaking out about the horrors and dangers of nuclear weapons.
Objectification of others and control of ‘reality’ are integral to patriarchy, as they are to
concepts such as ‘nuclear deterrence’ and ‘geostrategic stability’ – mechanisms to
maintain the current global hierarchy. The nuclear-armed states resisted the counter-
hegemonic dis- course promoted by the supporters of the ban because the latter’s focus
on the humanitarian and environmental consequences of nuclearism highlights what
nuclear weapons actually do to human bodies, to societies, to the planet. Such
evidence undermines the abstraction of nuclear weapons as deterrents or
protectors, and refocuses attention on the fact that they are tools of genocide,
slaughter, extinction . The resistance to the humanitarian discourse is reminiscent of a story in Cohn’s (1993)
article, ‘Wars, wimps, and women.’ A white male physicist, working on modelling nuclear counterforce attacks, exclaims to
a group of other white male physicist about the cavalier way they are talking about civilian casualties. ‘Only thirty million!’
he bursts out. ‘Only thirty million human beings killed instantly?’ The room went silent. He later confessed to Cohn,
‘Nobody said a word. They didn’t even look at me. It was awful. I felt like a woman.’ The association of caring
about the murder of thirty million people with ‘being a woman’ is all about seeing that
position – and that sex – as being weak, caring about wrong things, letting your
‘emotions’ get the better of you, and focusing on human beings when you should be
focused on ‘strategy.’ Caring about the humanitarian consequences of nuclear weapons is feminine, weak, and not
relevant to the job that ‘real men’ have to do to ‘protect’ their countries. It not only suggests that caring about the use of
nuclear weapons is spineless and silly, but also makes the pursuit of disarmament seem unrealistic and irrational. What
can gender analysis and feminism do for disarmament? Within this patriarchal construct, disarmament seems impossible
– like a utopian vision of a world that cannot exist because, the argument goes, there will always be those who want to
retain or develop the capacity to wield massive, unfathomable levels of violence over others, and therefore the ‘rational’
actors need to retain the weapons for protection against the irrational others. The nuclear-armed governments’ refusal to
constructively engage with the advocates of the ban stands in stark contrast to the concepts and laws of human rights and
poses a serious challenge to global justice. On a deeper level, the nuclear-armed governments’ position is
premised on the notion that states, as coherent units, must always be at odds with one
another, seeking an ‘accommodation’ of their differences rather than collectively
pursuing a world in which mutual interdependence and cooperation could
guide behaviour. Policy decisions are still based on conceptions of power imbued with
mistrust, threat, fear, and violence. Such policies do not allow for other types of
inter-state engagement or relationship between citizens and states; they
dismiss such alternatives, characteristic of feminist and human-security-based
approaches, as utopian and unrealistic. Taking a human-focused approach to disarmament, and thereby
challenging the dominant state-centred approach to international peace and security,
was instrumental to banning nuclear weapons . The humanitarian initiative that promoted the
ban, with its purposeful deconstruction of nuclear weapons as weapons of terror and massive violence, led to the majority
of states being ready and willing to negotiate and adopt a legal prohibition. An understanding of the gendered meanings
and characterisations embedded in the discourse and politics of nuclear weapons will further this process and enable
alternative approaches to international relations more broadly. Just as the humanitarian discourse undermines the
perceived legitimacy of nuclear weapons, a gender analysis of nuclear discourse helps deconstruct nuclear weapons as
symbols of power and tools of empire. It can show that the resonance of nuclear weapons as emblems of
masculine power is not inevitable and unchangeable, but a gendered social construction
designed to maintain the existing order (Cohn, Ruby, and Ruddick 2006). It took courage for states drafting
and signing the ban treaty to stand up to the nuclear- armed states. The latter handful of governments have thus far
controlled the narrative and even much of the scholarship on nuclear weapons for so long that most of the world believes
they have the legitimate right to do so. But they don’t. The adoption of the treaty prohibiting nuclear weapons makes this
very clear. As Ambassador Patricia O’Brien (2017) of Ireland said on the opening day of TPNW negotiations in March
2017: ‘We are not just writing a new and complementary treaty here, we are taking the opportunity to write a new history,
and in so doing to create a new, more stable, more secure and more equal future for all.’ Global civil society and the
majority of the world’s governments, following in the steps of feminist peace scholars and activists, rejected the dominant
narrative to write a new history.
The focus on the liberal statist human security agenda and the emphasis on
the humanitarian aspect of the arms control regime are rooted in the logic
of militarism and ignore feminist criticisms challenging the parameters of
human security
Stavrianakis ’18 [Anna, 5-21-2018, Anna Stavrianakis is Senior Lecturer in
International Relations at the University of Sussex, " Controlling weapons circulation in
a postcolonial militarised world," Review of International Studies]//ARW
So here we have an agenda for practical action on the weapons trade, challenging
militarism to improve human security. The UNDP report identified the nation-statist
ideologies of deterrence and territorial security, as well as the transnational practices of
military assistance and proxy wars, as key causes of insecurity. Simultaneously, it
reopened the debate about the link between security and development ‘that had been
closed since the somewhat sterile polemic around the link between disarmament and
development’ of the 1970s and 1980s.31 This earlier, now ostensibly out-dated debate
surmised that ‘the North (that is, both sides of the East–West conflict) should disarm,
and devote the resources freed up by arms reduction to development in the South’.32 As
part of this shift in debate, the move away from state-centred definitions of security was
accompanied by an acknowledgment of the legitimate and crucial role of the state in
providing security – especially as security was emphasised as a precondition for
development. So the anti-militarist call that identified the state as a creator of insecurity
was balanced against recognition of the legitimate role of the state in providing security.
There was also a downgrading of military threats as a particular type of threat to human
security: military threats do not appear as one of the seven main categories articulated in
the report (economic, food, health, environ- mental, personal, community, political).
Rather, threats from war (defined as ‘threats from other states’) are listed under the
category of ‘personal security’, alongside threats of physical torture and ethnic tension,
as well as crime, rape, domestic violence, and suicide.33 The analytical and political
move made in the 1994 UNDP Report was to equate war with the state and move away
from a concern with territorially based definitions of security and inter-state war, which
it equates with militarism. There is a shift in focus to the spectrum of armed violence and
non-conflict violence, which are to be remedied in the name of human security, in part
through the (re)construction of legitimate coercive apparatuses. The shift away from
militarism and towards human security claims to acknowledge the changing character of
conflict and the role of the state in monopolising legitimate violence, without privileging
it unthinkingly. Research in this vein has flourished in the years since the 1994 report,
and brings significant advantages to bear over traditional state-centric analyses, such as
the ability to account for the geographical diversity of rates of armed violence within as
well as between states; sustained and distinct attention to gendered patterns of violence,
including the specific character of femicide as a distinct form of violence; and the
incorporation of questions of public health and socio- economic inequality into
discussion about weapons transfers.34 For all these developments, the human security
agenda’s take on war, conflict, and armed violence has not been without its critics. It has
been described as the ‘new orthodoxy’ that is ‘unable to provide the basis for a
substantive change of the system of international security’, despite finding ‘the old
language of interstate war and conflict ... lacking’.35 Similarly, its emphasis on
‘progressive’ initiatives such as ‘eliminat[ing] certain types of weapons’ stands accused of
failing to adequately examine ‘the pathologies inherent in the structure of the
international system’ that generate such challenges.36 And when the ‘human’ in human
security is naturalised as masculine, the inclusion of novel threats and new actors leaves
the parameters of security untouched, meaning that ‘state-based, militarised security
remains unchallenged’.37 Feminist scholars have critiqued the gendered concepts and
practices of war, peace, militarisa- tion, peacekeeping and soldiering, going well beyond
the human security framework in the process.38 Feminist critiques that challenge the
parameters of human security can usefully be combined with postcolonial accounts of IR
that emphasise the ways in which the discipline ‘can both deny empire while
simultaneously normalizing an imperial perspective on the world’.39 Some of the main
themes of the human security agenda are illustrative of the need for an imperial
perspective in how we understand the challenges facing weapons control. By this I mean
interpreting them with the aid of scholarship that challenges methodological nationalism
and Eurocentrism in its analysis, mobilises feminist critiques of militarism, and puts the
legacy of empire and coloni- alism, and the racial, gendered, and classed politics of
imperial control, front and centre in its assessment of contemporary challenges.40
Deploying such resources gives us a chance to rethink some of the key assumptions
around human security and the prospects for regulating weapons circulation. Three core
themes of the human security agenda are ripe for an imperial critique. First, the claim
that the character of conflict has changed, from inter-state war towards internal conflict,
has become axiomatic in much of IR, including the human security literature.41 The
greatest threats to human security are deemed to stem from internal conflict and
criminal violence, or the state itself, rather than from an external adversary as per the
traditional security agenda. As such, ‘international security traditionally defined –
territorial integrity – does not necessarily correlate with human security’.42 Second, the
changing character of conflict requires a shift in the referent object of security, according
to the human security agenda: away from the state and inter-state war, and towards the
individual and the broader range of threats they face. 43 And third, the human security
agenda nonetheless emphasises the importance of the state’s monopoly on legitimate
violence and role in security provision.44 Yet the circumstances have been transformed
with the end of the Cold War. Kaldor attributes a ‘profound restructuring of political
authority’ to the new wars, and sees human security as an opportunity for ‘reconstructing
political authority in the context of the processes we call globalisation’.45 Hence the need
for security sector reform (SSR), demobilisation, disarmament, and reintegration (DDR)
and other reforms of coercive practices and apparatuses. Each of these three themes is
premised on the significance of the rupture that occurred with the end of the Cold War.
But understanding the Cold War as predominantly an East–West ideological and
geopolitical confrontation marginalises longer historical patterns of North–South power
relations and conflict, and of hot war in the South. And the increased focus on internal
conflict, while fruitful in terms of changing the scale of analysis, risks disconnecting the
micro- politics of violence from broader systems and structures of war preparation,
ignoring one of the key lessons of feminist scholarship, which is that the scales or so-
called levels of analysis are interdependent. As Laura Sjoberg and Sandra Via put it,
‘absolutely distinguishing between the personal, national and international level of war
and militarism lacks conceptual and empirical rigor at best’: feminist attention allows us
to understand both the impact of war and militarism on people (especially, but not only,
women) as well as the gendered construction of war and militarism.46 A longer
historical view that is not hamstrung by a state-centric ontology allows us to see that
arms transfer practices have long been part of the simultaneously transnational and
asymmetrical constitution of force. Historical scholarship on the arms trade emphasises
the importance of decolonisation as the shift from empire to a system of formally
sovereign states in which North– South power asymmetries continue to resonate. One of
the key transformations in weapons transfer practices that came with decolonisation was
a shift on the part of the Soviet Union and China from support for national liberation
movements, to the defence of sovereignty as a means of resisting US-led domination, in
either anti-capitalist or anti-imperialist modes.47 The supply of weapons and military
training was a common feature of both Soviet and US relations with the Third World:
despite their differences, North–South politico-military relations had much in common
between the two blocs.48 Ostensibly new or transformed challenges of the post-Cold
War era, such as Somali piracy, new wars in Africa, or insurgency and counterinsurgency
in Afghanistan, are thus better understood in postcolonial terms, with militarised
transnational continuities as well as changes associated with the end of superpower
rivalry.49 Amina Mama and Margo Okazawa-Rey emphasise the continuities between
colonial and contemporary militarism that not only led them to prefer the terminology of
postcolonial conflicts over that of new wars, but also emphasise the fundamentally
gendered characteristics of the physical and structural violence at stake.50 And as
Cooper argues, arms control regimes have long featured both ‘proscription and
permission’51 operating in tandem, challenging the optimism of accounts premised on
the end of the Cold War as the changed permissive factor that allows humanitarian
concerns to be the core objective of weapons control. This emphasis on history and
power generates scepticism about the optimism and presentism of most accounts of the
emergence of the ATT, and the linear, benevolent account of history found therein.52 A
longer historical perspective allows us to see how state security (whether national or
imperial) and (what is today called) human security have long been two sides of the same
coin. There are thus continuities of imperial forms of practice despite the turn to formal
sover- eignty. A focus on the systematic or organised and North–South character of
much armed violence is not to return to Cold War politics or the ‘sterile polemic’ of past
debates about weapons issues mentioned earlier. Rather, it is to emphasise that
historical weapons supply routes and power relations continue to resonate; that massive
and uneven levels of global military spending and proxy wars continue to matter; and
that clients continue to use weapons in ways that are often unanticipated by patrons.
Ostensibly civil or internal wars are enmeshed in wider regional and international
projects.53 There are internationalised sources of much of what counts as domestic, civil
or intra-state, including colonial legacies and internationalised weapons supply chains.
In many accounts, human security has been mobilised as an attempt to ‘cope with [the]
pathological results’ of how security has been defined in postcolonial states in the
South.54 Yet this encourages internalist analysis that sees the problems of armed
violence as having their sources primarily within the global South. In conceding the
terms of debate to ‘traditional’ security studies, and seeking to shift inwards from the
state to the individuals living within it, rather than critiquing the conception of the
international system, the human security agenda continues to ‘occlude and distort
imperial relations’ in the way that more traditional ‘West- phalian terms of reference’
do.55 In the human security agenda’s account of the shift from wars between states to
wars within them, war falls off the agenda as it is deemed analytically outdated and
politically regressive. Yet neo-realist, Cold War accounts of national security were never
adequate, and in trying to overcome them, many human security accounts take them at
face value and get the critique wrong. With its emphasis on the enduring power of war
preparation, the concept of militarism suggests that much contemporary violence
remains coordinated or facilitated (by state, para- military, militia, or other organised
actors), and systematic within society, despite the shift towards discussion of armed
violence and intentional homicide, which is suggestive of dis- organised violence. So how
are we to mobilise the concept of militarism in light of the imperial turn, in ways that
help us think more productively about weapons control? First is to defend the use of the
concept at all. According to Mary Kaldor, the concept of militarism has outlived its
usefulness as it is ‘drawn from the Cold War and before’: the changes with the end of the
Cold War necessitate new terms.56 To capture the ways that organised violence blurs
state/non-state and national/foreign boundaries, whether in the form of para- military
groups, organised crime or terrorist cells, or in the form of peacekeeping troops, Kaldor
coins the terms ‘Netforce’ and ‘Protectionforce’ respectively.57 Kaldor restricts the
concept of militarism to ‘the new American militarism’ and the ‘neo-modern militarism’
(‘the evolution of classical military forces in large transition states’ practising inter-state
war or counterinsurgency) of states such as Russia, China, and India.58 But in
differentiating some types of organised violence as not-militarism, we lose the
opportunity to compare them, to see the overlaps, similarities, and differences in modes
of organised violence. Feminists have long been able to capture this with the concept of
militarism, showing us that ‘it is not quite so easy to set aside “ordinary” aggression,
force or violence as “not war”’59 – especially when we pay attention to the experience of
violence in the global South.60 Second, and relatedly, the specificities of combinations of
actors, degrees of state support, and so on, are subject to empirical and historical
specificity, and a common rubric of militarism helps us understand similarities and
differences between them. Working in a historical sociological tradition, Bryan Mabee
and Srdjan Vucetic draw up a typology of forms of contemporary militarism.61 They
contrast Michael Mann’s concept of civil society militarism – ‘the use of organized
military violence in pursuit of social goals that is “state-supported, but not state-led”’62
– to ‘nation-state militarism’ in both its authoritarian and liberal forms; to ‘neoliberal
militarism’ struc- tured around socioeconomic liberalisation; and to ‘exceptionalist
militarism’ seen in practices asso- ciated with the War on Terror. Feminists tend not to
operate in such formal typological ways, but have long been articulating the idea of war
and militarism as a spectrum or a system, in which the forms, intensities, and
characteristics may vary, but the gendered basis of violence is central.63 And a focus on
militarism can be usefully mobilised to consider the connections and feedback loops
between Northern and Southern practices, giving a more internationalised account that
is better attuned to the operation of power in contexts of armed violence. Indeed, Rita
Abrahamsen refers to ‘global militarism in Africa’ because ‘while militarism is always
specific (and often national), it is also simultaneously global’, and the ‘analytical
challenge is to capture at one and the same time the global and the local, and their
intersection in particular locations’.64 Third, while I want to defend the concept, and
think about types of militarism in relation to each other, it is crucial to acknowledge that
contemporary militarism and human security have shaped each other in the last twenty
years. Human security, with its emphasis on human rights and IHL, has become a
mediating element in the relation between war and society. Post-Cold War processes of
democratisation have ‘often coincided with new forms of militarism’ that tend to be
analysed under the rubric of policy-oriented concepts such as security sector reform.65
As Abrahamsen argues, ‘The securitization of underdevelopment ... is the condition of
possibility for a global militarism justified in the name of human security and
development.’66 We must take heed of Abrahamsen’s warning that ‘Paradoxically,
transformations that initially entailed a cri- tique of militarization and militarism have
ended up according a new importance to security actors and laying the groundwork for
new expressions of militarization and militarism.’67 Human security has – against its
self-image as a progressive social force – facilitated a resurgent as well as transformed
militarism.
DISEMBODIMENT
The coding of militarism and imperialist acts, which are fueled by arms
transfers by the US as masculine and superior immortalizes both a literal
and metaphorical war that fails to recognize its corporeal costs. Although
war waging has always been dependent on women, the US continues to
champion its hyper-masculine “savior” rhetoric through military power and
exchanging arms. The alt is a reclamation of people deemed merely “bodies”
in the face of US power structures that denies life to those it denotes as
“Other” and repudiates women and feminized bodies their humanity.
Wilson, 09 – a literature and women’s studies scholar and writer. Dr. Wilson regularly
presents at national and international conferences, delivers talks at college campuses and for
feminist organizations, writes books, articles, film reviews and blog posts, and teaches at Cal
State San Marcos. She specializes in feminist analysis of popular culture and contemporary
literature. (2009, Natalie, “Mind/Body Dualism and the Un-just Gendered Logistics of
Militarization,”
http://web.a.ebscohost.com.proxy.lib.umich.edu/ehost/ebookviewer/ebook/ZTAwMHh
uYV9fNTM5NjA1X19BTg2?sid=6d393875-047d-4f51-a3a6-8db3694cd441@sdc-v-
sessmgr02&vid=0&format=EB&lpid=lp_189&rid=0, accessed 07/06/19, lrch rm)
Conventional foreign policy analysis has integrated gender only at the empirical level,
with gender differences in foreign policy attitudes being a central concern (Fite et al.,
1990; Togeby, 1994). In contrast, feminist international relations scholars suggest not
only that gender matters in foreign policy, but also that foreign policy is itself a gendered
process and discourse. This breeds a broader understanding of gender as 'a system of
symbolic meanings that creates social hierarchies based on perceived association with
masculine and feminine characteristics' (Sjoberg, 2009a: 186). Such an approach
provides a way to highlight the gendered assumptions underlying foreign policy
discourse and the concrete effects on women's status in the realm of foreign policy.
Tickner (1992: 3), for example, argues that foreign policy is so strongly associated with
masculinity (particularly, but not only, in realist international relations theory) that
women are excluded from international politics. Dean (2001) has shown that gender has
been significant in shaping US foreign policy. In a case study of the Vietnam War, he
concludes that a certain kind of 'elite masculinity' (Dean, 2001 : 18) contributed to the
escalation of the war and helped create and reproduce a patriotism that regarded
military intervention as crucial to US global power. Building upon these theoretical and
empirical insights, this study links the gendered assumptions inherent in foreign policy
concepts and strategies to the status of women in the armed forces in a case study of
military gender integration in the United States. It particularly looks at gender in 'war
stories' - 'narratives told about war - why we go to war, who our enemies are, what we are
fighting for, and how wars will be won' (Hunt, 2010: 116). Foreign policy doctrines and
concepts are read as such narratives that are 'used to forward problematic political
agendas while simultaneously silencing other key issues' (Hunt, 2010: 118). The objective
is to show how the gendering of international politics is intertwined with women's roles
in warfare and ultimately with their (in) equality in military institutions. This is done by
relating foreign policy discourses and practices between 1991 and 2011 to shifts in
military gender policies and discourses on gender integration. The following research
agendas of feminist international relations guide the study: making women visible as
part of/affected by international politics; showing how the international is gendered; and
highlighting the instrumentalization of women's issues in international politics. Feminist
scholars have made clear that these levels of analysis are intertwined and their dynamics
mutually enforcing. The gendered assumption and discourses in the international arena
reflect as well as shape women's lives and structures of gender inequality. The analysis
looks at different levels of interaction between military gender relations and foreign
policy: (1) integration as a policy issue in political power straggles over the course of
foreign policy (between government and opposition, but also between the political and
military leaderships); (2) employment of gendered discourses and ideologies in foreign
policy doctrines and debates to support the interests of different groups of actors; and
(3) gender equality as a rationale in foreign policy discourses - for example, as
legitimization of war. It is argued that foreign policy is an important context influencing
military gender relations. While no definite causal relationship is implied, it will be
shown that foreign policy has some degree of independence in this regard, in some
instances breeding changes in gender policies that dominate manpower needs and
domestic politics. By making the link between integration and foreign policy, the study
aims to contribute to feminist international relations by clarifying how gendered
discourses and practices in the international arena are linked to domestic gender
relations - that is, how foreign policy as a gendered process relates to gender-based
inclusions and exclusions at the state level. This combines the feminist goal of
addressing gender inequality in institutions of relevance to global politics and the
theoretically more advanced project of showing how international politics is gendered
structurally and discursively. For this purpose, research on gendered discourses and
narratives is connected to the study of social power relations and women's positions in
national and international institutions.
HUMAN RIGHTS
Generic understandings of human rights mask the different realities of
women and how rights are weaponized against their very existence
Kimberly Hutchings 2013 (Kimberly Hutchings is Professor of Politics and
International Relations at Queen Mary University of London. She is a leading scholar in
international relations theory. “Ethics, Feminism and International Affairs," Ethics and
International Affairs Journal,
https://qmro.qmul.ac.uk/xmlui/bitstream/handle/123456789/8120/HUTCHINGS%20
Ethics%20and%20International%20Affairs%202013.pdf?sequence=2 //EH)
Although Mackinnon criticises existing human rights discourses, she is careful to stress that the idea of rights is
of tremendous ethical importance and that the growth of human rights discourses has
provided vital resources for political resistance and legal protection of individuals within
states and internationally. From a feminist point of view, it is clearly better to have rape
recognised explicitly as a crime against humanity than for it to continue to be regarded
as just another unfortunate side effect of war. However, at the same time, Mackinnon sees
the resources offered by generic understandings of human rights as being
seriously inadequate because they mask the differential realities of women's
position and therefore effectively disempower their supposed beneficiaries. This argument
is parallel to arguments developed in the context of feminist struggles over rights within the state, that in order for
equality of right for women to be a reality, women need rights which are specific to them
and which, when institutionalised, will help to deconstruct the gendered relations of
power in which women are currently caught. Mackinnon’s ideal retains the idea of a
'single standard of human dignity and entitlement' that has always been central to rights-
based thinking, but the meaning of this single standard is interpreted in terms which do
not rely on the notion of a universal sameness to underpin the single standard .
Mackinnon takes the ground of rights as being 19 the actual power differentials between
different groups (specifically in this case, man and women) and the struggles of the disempowered
to improve their subordinate position. Rights are therefore a political weapon as
much as a moral ideal, which can be used themselves to alter the realities we inhabit. In this respect, therefore,
Mackinnon’s position is closely aligned with the struggles of feminists to extend recognition of women’s human rights
within international affairs referred to in Section One above. Another influential example of a feminist justice ethics is the
argument put forward by Martha Nussbaum in her book Women and Human Development (2000). In this book,
Nussbaum finds the grounds for certain (limited) universal ethical values and claims in a set of human ‘capabilities’ that
she argues are foundational for the flourishing of any human life. She then uses the example of the lives of
women in developing countries as a way to exemplify how the capabilities approach can
be used as a kind of yardstick to critique existing practice in different national contexts
and to provide fundamental principles for progress, in particular progress for women. At the heart
of Nussbaum’s feminist justice ethics is a commitment to the intrinsic value of humanity
and the right of every individual to be enabled to live ‘humanly’, that is in such a way that they are
not simply subordinated to the ends of others but are enabled to exercise choices in the way that they live their lives. At
present, according to Nussbaum, women in developing countries are particularly likely to
experience their lives as subordinated to others, including the demands of patriarchal
cultures and of exploitative conditions of work. For this reason, she argues against
approaches to morality that base themselves in cultural difference (Okin 1999). In spite of her
critique of communitarianism, however, Nussbaum’s particular version of moral universalism is,
she argues, less prone to problems associated with other kinds of justice ethics 20 because
it does not so much elaborate a substantive set of moral principles that all must follow,
but rather specifies ‘human capabilities’ that are inherently enabling rather than
prescriptive, and that can be the ongoing subject of debate. This still allows room for culture to play an important
ethical role (Nussbaum 2000: 7, 70-71). The capabilities that Nussbaum outlines as of universal ethical significance are
listed below: 1. Life – ability to live out a natural life span 2. Bodily Health – ability to have good health including
reproductive health, adequate nourishment, shelter 3. Bodily integrity – freedom of movement, security from physical
violation, sexual and reproductive autonomy 4. Senses, imagination, thought – ability to use all of these fully in an
educated way 5. Emotions – ability to be attached to others, to have a capacity for love and affection 6. Practical Reason –
to be able to reflect rationally, identify one’s own conception of the good life and plan for it 7. Affiliation – ability to live
with others in personal relationships and social communities 8. Other species – ability to live in relation to nature 9. Play
– ability to enjoy recreation 10. Control over one’s material and political environment – ability to participate in political
choices, ability to hold property, to work on equal terms with others. (Nussbaum 2000: 78-81). Nussbaum uses the above
list as a reference point for making judgments about the actual lives and conditions of women in developing countries,
using India as her specific 21 example. It becomes clear very quickly that the capabilities approach is ethically very
demanding, in that it requires the institutionalisation of equality across a range of domains even to live up to threshold
conditions. For example, the capability to live in affiliation with others is, in Nussbaum’s view, fatally undermined by
status-based discrimination on grounds of ‘race, sex, sexual orientation, religion, caste, ethnicity, or national origin’
(Nussbaum 79). Even though Mackinnon’s and Nussbaum’s arguments are very different they both typify an ethics of
justice in the sense that they impose limits in principle on what can count as a morally valid account of justice or rights for
women in the international domain. And also in the sense that radical changes at the level of international law and
institutions are needed in order to fulfil requirements of justice for women. Feminist ethics of care and of
justice relate to the dominant vocabularies of feminist activism in the international domain over
the past forty years. In many ways the text of UNSCR 1325 combines these vocabularies, stressing women’s distinctive
ethical qualities as peacemakers on the one hand, and arguing for institutionalising gender mainstreaming and women’s
human rights on the other. There is, however, another strand of feminist ethical thinking, which challenges both care and
justice arguments from the point of view of feminist difference. Feminist difference ethics is inspired by objections to the
universalisation of particular western historical experiences that underpin the ethics of care and of justice, and objections
to the kinds of politics associated with those ethics. It is theoretically influenced by poststructuralist feminism on the one
hand, and postcolonial feminism on the other (Mohanty et al 1991; Spivak 1999). Difference feminists argue that care
ethics 22 essentialises a specific idea of women and femininity that is grounded in the history and culture of western
societies, and its model of familial and community relations. At the same time, they argue that justice feminists
conflate the universal with western, liberal ideals of human rights for women. In both
cases, it is argued, this means that these versions of feminist ethics are insufficiently
sensitive to the ethical significance of major differences and inequalities between
women. Difference feminists insist on the ethical significance of the fact that all women
are not the same, either in virtue of being women or in virtue of being human (Jabri 1999;
Peterson 1990; Butler 2004).
Recognizing the struggles of women to achieve body integrity is especially
vital in human rights discussions concerned with a universal subject—the
distinctions separating feminized subjects are missing from debates on
human rights
Kimberly Hutchings 2013 (Kimberly Hutchings is Professor of Politics and
International Relations at Queen Mary University of London. She is a leading scholar in
international relations theory. “Ethics, Feminism and International Affairs," Ethics and
International Affairs Journal,
https://qmro.qmul.ac.uk/xmlui/bitstream/handle/123456789/8120/HUTCHINGS%20
Ethics%20and%20International%20Affairs%202013.pdf?sequence=2 //EH)
Feminist struggles for equality of right beyond the boundaries of specific states seek to
utilise the existing principles and protocols enshrined in international law. This has proved
difficult partly because the recognition of rights in international law is notoriously poorly
translated into the actual practices of many states, whilst at the same time states themselves are the
only effective enforcers of international law. However, it is partly also because such rights are understood as
human rights and feminists have questioned the capacity of international human rights
declarations and protocols to recognise and address ways in which women are
excluded from power and vulnerable to harms because they are women (Ashworth 1999;
MacKinnon 2006). Ashworth notes how the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR) and the
covenants on civil and political, social and economic rights respectively have been ineffective even in
recognising the violation (or vulnerability to violation) of women's rights (Ashworth 1999). In
the case of civil and political rights, women's rights to bodily integrity are routinely violated in the
context of widespread practices, for example, of domestic violence. In the case of socio-economic
rights, women's rights are particularly badly affected by women's systematically
disadvantaged position in relation to property ownership, waged and unwaged labour
(Peterson 1990; Ashworth 1999; Waring 1999; Peterson 2003). Yet until feminist groups began to
campaign for more explicit recognition of the differential position of women as rights
bearers, there was no accepted understanding that international human rights might
need to be specified as women's rights or vice versa. Since the onset of the UN Decade for Women in 1975,
international organizations have been subject to internal and external pressure from
feminist campaigners to make sure that women are explicitly included in the category
'human'. This was manifested in developments such as the 1979 UN Convention for the Elimination of Discrimination
Against Women (CEDAW), and in development initiatives concerning women and development and gender and
development in the 1970s and 1980s, as well as high profile transnational campaigns around issues such as violence
against women and female circumcision. The focus on women’s human rights was intensified in the
wake of the systematic rape of women that featured in the conflicts in Bosnia in the mid
1990s, which encouraged feminist groups to campaign for the international recognition
of rape as a war crime, and reaffirmed feminist commitment to the creation of an
International Criminal Court (ICC), and to the need for the UN to explicitly address the
specificity of women’s experience of war (Stiglmayer 1995; Mackinnon 2006). UNSCR 1325 on ‘Women,
Peace and Security’, unanimously passed in the year 2000, reflected, and responded to, the concerns of 1990s feminist
international activists about the gendered presuppositions and effects of war. This was the first time that women had been
the focus of a UN resolution in relation to peace and security. The resolution was hailed as a significant
victory for feminist activism, and was preceded and succeeded by the close involvement
of feminist groups in lobbying for, drafting, reporting on and monitoring the Resolution
and its progress. Full accounts of the history and content of 1325 and its successors can be found elsewhere (Cohn
2008; Shepherd 2011). For our purposes, what is interesting is the ways in which 1325 combines aspects of ideas
associated with feminist peace activism, in which women are seen as having a distinctive capacity for peace, with more
rights-based approaches that stress the goals of civil and political equality. A combination of these discourses has
remained the predominant way in which feminist ideas have been expressed and implemented at the international level,
and can be traced in the successor resolutions to 1325 (Shepherd 2011), as well as in the gender-related aspects of the
setting up of the ICC (Pankhurst 2007). UNSCR 1325 can be seen as the culmination of feminist activism in relation to war
and peace over previous decades. However, its status as a victory for feminism has been put into question in the decade
since its implementation. From the beginning certain feminists had reservations about 1325, including claims that it
essentialised women as either victims or peacemakers, confirmed rather than challenged the inevitability of armed
conflict, marginalized the realities of women combatants and men civilians, and was insufficiently resourced.
Criticisms of 1325 were reinforced by the other development that has been a focus of
feminist activism in relation to war and peace over the past decade, the so-called ‘War on
Terror’. In the 1990s, sexual violence in the wars following the break up of Yugoslavia
had become an important dimension of the legitimation of external intervention in the
conflict for some feminists, though not necessarily to feminist groups within the region.
In the US response to 9/11, the question of the violation of women’s rights was brought
centre stage in the legitimation of the 2001 invasion of Afghanistan, and more broadly in
the characterisation of the US’s enemy other in the ‘War on Terror’ (Pratt and Richter-
Devroe 2011).
HYBRID WAR
Hybridity and peacebuilding must be viewed through a nuanced
gender lens as an essential prerequisite to fundamentally address
policy thinking about conflicts, their causes, impacts, and the
interplay of power between actors – their evaluation of the process of
conflicts and war in the aff lacks a feminist approach which
perpetuates the logics of patriarchal discourse that cast women as
‘vulnerable’
McLeod, 15 – Laura McLeod is a Lecturer in International Politics at the University of
Manchester, United Kingdom. She has written about security, peace negotiations and
constitutional reform in Serbia and Bosnia-Herzegovina from a feminist and gendered
perspective. (2015, Laura, “A Feminist Approach to Hybridity: Understanding Local and
International Interactions in Producing Post-Conflict Gender Security,”
http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/17502977.2014.980112, accessed 07/20/19, lrch rm)
The fields of critical peacebuilding and feminist scholarship on peace and postconflict
reconstruction are rather like two magnificent ships passing by each other in the
night. There are a number of shared concerns—for instance, how to understand the power relations
between local and international actors in postconflict contexts—but few have explicitly engaged with both
feminist scholarship and contemporary peacebuilding literatures with the aim of generating a feminist use
of, or challenge to, contemporary critical peacebuilding concepts. Critical peacebuilding has been mostly
adequate at the inclusion of gender as an empirical category, but many analyses do not
‘effectively deal with or fully [integrate] gender in the context of addressing
war and its aftermath’ (Ni Aoláin, Haynes, and Cahn 2011, 89). This is because a feminist curiosity
places gender at the centre of analysis about the practice and process of post-conflict PSD policy, seeking to
explore apparently invisible gender practices and processes. So, critical peacebuilding scholarship, rather
like critical International Relations and critical International Political Economy, ‘misunderstand what it
means to use [gender] as an analytical category’ (Waylen 2006, 164). That is, there is a tendency within
non-feminist critical peacebuilding to assume that a gender perspective is additive and about
women: i.e. that all that needs to be done is to add women and stir. From a feminist
perspective, gender used as an analytical category presumes some kind of radical
reconsideration of how the world is currently constituted. To this end, what I have offered here is
an explicitly feminist consideration of hybridity. The feminist perspective allows a
textured perception of the personal and political experiences that matter in the development of an initiative.
Furthermore, gender is made complicated and is not taken at face value: for instance, the article has
highlighted that local and international interactions shape the very understandings of gender that function
within a post-conflict initiative. The case study in this article indicates how diverse personal-political
experiences that have been narrated have cast a configuration of gender security as being
about human development and protection of vulnerable women. These insights
about how both international and local experiences matter raise questions about how we
ascribe importance to a particular set of knowledge and experience in agenda-
setting. Whose experience of conflict matters in establishing postconflict agendas? On the one hand, it
is thought that local experience and understandings are prioritized in hybrid
interventions—a perspective that leads to the valorization of hybridity. On the other hand, it
is clear that international perspectives matter too in our problematization of ‘post-conflict’, but not to the
extent that an all-powerful international institution unilaterally imposes an agenda for post-conflict peace,
security and development. Highlighting the personal-political experiences and perceptions of conflict held by
both local and international actors reveals the tension at the very heart of post-conflict agendasetting.
Furthermore, the feminist analysis of hybridity highlights the tensions between
memories and agendas in delineating PSD policy. Confronting questions about the
narratives of war experience could alter our perception of agendasetting. Post-conflict agendas
are often imagined to be responsive to the contemporary context, downplaying the importance of historical
narratives of war experiences in shaping agendas. Noticing
the temporal and
spatial diversity of war experiences in hybrid PSD initiatives
opens ways for non-linear and nonprogressive conceptualizations
of time and temporality within a post-conflict context. This
matters, as it reminds us that the logics of negotiating war
experiences are political and ideological. The act of remembering
(always accompanied by forgetting) is not just about recalling the lived
experiences of the past and present, it is also indicative of hopes, dreams
and desires for the future. The war experiences recalled are perceived
realities about which memories are worth invoking—and they are
invoked for a reason. As such, the logics of negotiation between local and
international actors are largely ideological and politically driven, which has
implications for the nature of goals held about post-conflict PSD processes and
practices. This is especially the case when local and international actors are asked to translate
universalized ambitions to a particular context. For instance, United Nations Security Council Resolution
1325 (UNSCR 1325) has a universal goal urging for the gender mainstreaming of all post-conflict processes.
But the very way in which UNSCR 1325 is translated on the ground by local and international actors depends
upon their configuration of conflict and post-conflict, a perspective in part forged out of personal and
political narratives of war experience. Thus, universalized ambitions are reforged to fit the particularity of
each conflict and post-conflict moment. These realizations about the effects of power relations between local
and international actors have come out of a feminist poststructural approach. Like Laura Shepherd (2014,
104), I conceive of gender as a ‘foundational construct that affects and is affected by all other relations of
power’, where gender is ‘implicated in every social process’ including peacekeeping and peacebuilding. As
Christine Sylvester suggests, thinking about war and post-war in a more experiential way
‘requires considerably more research on the gender ghosts rattling around
dominant war narratives in international law and international organisations’ (2011a, 122).
Paying attention to individual and collective experiences of war, and in particular
how gender is produced by local and international actors, reveals the organizing logics
about gender security. These organizing logics ultimately configured the boundaries of
possibility and impossibility of ‘gender’ within a PSD initiative about gender and SALW.
Paying attention to war is narrated differently and noticing the gendered power relations at
stake in post-conflict PSD processes and practices provokes significant questions about the
practice of making and keeping peace. Ultimately, A feminist curiosity reminds us to resist the closure
implied in any discourse of peace, remembering that it is always important to ask on whose behalf peace is being sought or
Thus, the exploration of local and
claimed and with what effects. (Shepherd 2014, 107)
international power in relation to the making of hybrid PSD
initiatives can be (and should be) profoundly feminist. Exploring
personal-political experiences of war allows for a detailed perception about
the extent of co-option involved, about whose knowledge and experience
counts, and for a more temporally complex analysis of how PSD policy is
produced.
INTERNATIONAL LAW
The liberal and democratic institutions upholding international law exclude
feminist perspectives on ethics and universality
Kimberly Hutchings 2013 (Kimberly Hutchings is Professor of Politics and
International Relations at Queen Mary University of London. She is a leading scholar in
international relations theory. “Ethics, Feminism and International Affairs," Ethics and
International Affairs Journal,
https://qmro.qmul.ac.uk/xmlui/bitstream/handle/123456789/8120/HUTCHINGS%20
Ethics%20and%20International%20Affairs%202013.pdf?sequence=2 //EH)
For difference ethics it is ethical principles of respect for plurality and democracy that
are fundamental to feminism. Although they share with care and justice feminisms a
commitment to challenging gendered relations of power, for difference feminists specific
questions about what moral values should guide human conduct at a global level are
incapable of being satisfactorily answered unless and until the world has changed in such
a way that the voices of those currently most excluded from moral debate can be heard
(Spivak 1999; Mohanty 2003; Hutchings 2004). In the meantime, moral priority must be given to those
ethical values that do most to support struggles to change the world to include the
excluded, and that do least to further repress the voices of the least powerful actors in current world politics. The
problem with this ethical project is that, as difference feminists themselves point out, any explicitly articulated
universal ethical claim in international ethics always carries its own exclusions with it,
intended or unintended. This is typified by the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which, for example, in
speaking of all human beings’ fundamental right to marriage and family life, necessarily excludes those human beings who
do not fit with heterosexual norms, or with the assumption of a humanity split into two genders (Butler 2004: 102-130).
One of the feminist ethical theorists who has addressed what difference ethics implies in an international context is Judith
Butler. Focusing on the concept of universal human rights, Butler has shown how the
concept of the human in human 24 rights, by setting up a norm of what it means to be
human, consistently operates so as to situate certain categories of people as ‘less than’
human, rendering their lives in crucial respects ‘unliveable’ and ‘ungrievable’ (Butler 2004: 225-227). Thus she directly
challenges Nussbaum’s claim that it is through an inclusive account of what it means to be human that a genuinely
universal international ethics can be articulated as a yardstick for the judgement of practice. At the same time, Butler does
not advocate the abandonment of the idea of universal rights, but rather argues that the meaning of ‘universal’ should
always be open to challenge and re-negotiation, and that we should never assume that our claims to
universality actually live up to their promise (Butler 2004: 33). Somewhat paradoxically, difference ethics
is universalist in its orientation towards giving moral priority to the excluded in general, but sees this universalism as
always failing. For difference ethics, ethical priorities will differ depending on context, so that there is (and ought to be) no
feminist consensus on either the ethics of war or the nature of fundamental human being. It is therefore inappropriate to
condemn practices such as female circumcision in the abstract, without a full understanding of the context of the practice
and the ethical investments of the different parties to it. Moreover, the exponent of an ethics of difference needs to take
responsibility for his or her own judgment and actions and recognise that well-intended arguments and policies may have
unforeseen effects when implemented in a top down way. In this respect, difference ethics is linked to feminist criticisms
of the ‘War on Terror’ and humanitarian interventions from the 1990s onwards, which perpetuated a politics of 25 rescue
in which white western men ‘save’, in Spivak’s words, brown women from brown men (Hutchings 2011). It is clear from
the above discussion that feminist approaches to the ethics of international affairs differ. To the extent that it’s not clear
whether the term ‘feminist’ actually signifies something substantive that ties different feminist approaches together. Does
it make sense to use the same term to encompass the quite different arguments of care, justice and difference feminist
ethics? In conclusion, I want to suggest that in spite of the degree of contestation between these
different ethical perspectives, there are certain commonalities. Feminism was inspired
by the vulnerabilities suffered by women on account of an entrenched gender order that
excluded them from moral status and political power. What links the different forms of feminist ethics
together is the aspiration (which is not always achieved) of de-centring moral judgment from the standpoint of the
privileged. This essentially political project must therefore cultivate a strong degree of self-
consciousness about tendencies within ethical reasoning that reinstate or reinforce
patterns of privilege and disadvantage. This is the reason, I would argue, why the kinds
of contextualism and universalism at work in the different versions of feminist ethics are
much less fixed and mutually exclusive than we find when comparing mainstream
deontological, consequentialist or communitarian ethical arguments. Ruddick’s ethic of care,
although it gives universal moral status to the virtues inherent in maternal thinking, because of its contextualism, refuses
to pre-judge the implications of 26 maternal thinking for ethical prescription. Mackinnon’s commitment to
women’s human rights does not offer us a closed definition of what it means to be
human, instead it presents a dynamic vision of human rights politics grounded in the
existence of inequalities of power. Nussbaum’s universalism is tempered by a strong
requirement for contextual sensitivity, and she attempts, whether successfully or not, to
locate her international ethics in the lives of nonwestern women. And Butler’s critique of
universalism does not lead her to reject the ethical significance of the idea of the
universal or the value of the discourse of universal human rights. Characteristics of theoretical
humility and eclecticism distinguish recent developments in feminist international ethics that build on ethical insights
from care, justice and difference. For example, Fiona Robinson’s work has extended the purview of
the ethic of care to questions of global distributive justice, caring labour in the
international political economy as well as questions of humanitarian intervention and
international security. In doing so, however, she has combined care thinking with
postcolonial, difference arguments (Robinson 1999; 2011). In a very different vein, Laura Sjoberg has
combined aspects of the ethic of care with just war theory in her development of a feminist security ethic of empathetic
cooperation (Sjoberg 2006). And Brooke Ackerly has developed an activist-informed immanent theory of the human
rights of women that combines aspects of the kind of thinking that informs Mackinnnon’s understanding of rights as
political weapons, and Butler’s critique of rights universalism (Ackerly 2008). In my view, the apparent tensions
within, as well as between, feminist ethical perspectives on international affairs reflect
the difficulty of trying to hold on to an ethical standpoint that starts from the position of
the vulnerable and excluded, and which is 27 therefore perpetually dissatisfied with any settled standpoint of
judgment or final answer to the question of meaning of international justice. In spite of genuine differences between them,
feminist ethical projects share certain qualities. They give priority to dialogue as the starting point for ethical judgment,
and the prescriptive conclusions they draw are contextually specific and open to revision in the light of experience.
LATIN AMERICA
US diplomatic dependency on Latin America licenses policies enabling
femicide and gender violence
Haley Florsheim and Joan Caivano 12-21-2015, (Haley Florsheim won a Fulbright
teaching fellowship to teach English in Brazil after completing a Latin American studies
certificate and international politics major, for which Florsheim researched and wrote a
thesis on legislative progress on preventing violence against women and securing
reproductive rights in Argentina, Brazil and Chile. Joan Caivano is deputy to the
president and the director of special projects at the Inter-American Dialogue. As such,
she manages a range of institutional responsibilities, including the Dialogue’s Sol M.
Linowitz Forum, its publications program, outreach to the press, and membership
issues. She also directs the Dialogue’s project on press freedom issues and its work on
women’s leadership in the Americas. "Challenges for Women’s Rights in Latin America,"
The Dialogue, https://www.thedialogue.org/blogs/2015/12/protect-womens-rights-
hold-latin-american-governments-accountable/ //EH)
As Mauricio Macri campaigned for the Argentine presidency this fall, another campaign of hundreds of thousands
of individuals tirelessly fought to bring the issue of femicide, or gender-based killings of
women, into Argentina’s political consciousness. These activists formed a successful movement, and
their fight continues. United behind the hashtag #NiUnaMenos, or “not one less,” activists stand up
for each woman’s right to life in an effort to eliminate gender-based killings in a society
where a femicide takes place every thirty hours. In many of these cases, the murders are
not prosecuted as femicides, as they should be under Argentine law, but rather as
homicides. This is a phenomenon that takes place in numerous Latin American countries and conveniently allows
states to overlook the scale and gender component of the violence. Like much of Latin America, Argentina has a
long history of male chauvinism . Despite Latin America’s focus on encouraging
female representation in government, machismo still informs the way of life in the
region, resulting in a culture of oppression where gender violence is prolific
and reproductive rights are limited. Many Latin American countries have nominally adopted well-
intentioned laws protecting women’s rights, but a lack of political will has rendered the laws
essentially toothless. According to the UN Economic Commission for Latin America and the Caribbean, an
estimated 1,678 women were killed for gender-based reasons in 17 Latin American and
Caribbean countries in 2014. These killings take on a variety of forms. Much of the time,
gender-based violence and femicide occur within couples, as well as between former
partners. Femicide also includes neglect leading to death, the combined crimes of rape
and murder, and “honor killings.” The global trend shows increased instances of femicide and gender-based
violence in recent years, and more than half of the countries with the highest number of
femicides are located in the Americas. However, the legal mechanisms in Latin America that protect against
gender-based violence and femicide are not drastically different than the legal mechanisms in the rest of the world.
Femicide is a separate and punishable crime in Bolivia, Brazil, Chile, Colombia, Costa Rica, the Dominican Republic,
Ecuador, El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras, Mexico, Nicaragua, Panama, and Peru. Argentine and Venezuelan laws
address the concept of “aggravated murder for gender reasons.” Additionally, 20 countries in Latin America and the
Caribbean have instituted laws protecting against gender-based violence. The difference in the success of legal
mechanisms is a matter of priorities. Twelve out of those 20 countries have failed to provide
national funding to implement the laws, demonstrating a lack of political will. Because
focusing on women’s issues does not generate votes, politicians and leaders tend to steer
their platforms toward other, more popular agendas. By failing to prioritize these legal mechanisms
and support related initiatives, the states greatly diminish the potential and effectiveness of the legal structures.
Reproductive rights are another area where Latin American governments’ failure to
prioritize women’s rights has prevented women from accessing the protections
guaranteed by their governments. In 2001, at age 17, a Peruvian minor known as K.L. learned that she was 14
weeks pregnant with a child that had been diagnosed with a fatal condition called anencephaly, which is characterized by
the underdevelopment or complete lack of a forebrain. Under Peruvian law, K.L. had the right to obtain an abortion if she
decided to terminate the pregnancy due to the physical and mental health risks of giving birth to a child that would not
survive. However, the doctors assigned to K.L.’s case refused to provide the procedure and she delivered the baby, who
passed away after four days because of the condition. During those four days, K.L. was instructed to breastfeed the child.
Even though Peruvian laws protect a women’s right to obtain a therapeutic abortion, the state failed to ensure that the law
was followed, resulting in dire consequences for K.L. and many others who suffered from similar circumstances. There are
five countries in Latin America where abortion is outlawed entirely: Chile, the Dominican Republic, El Salvador,
Honduras, and Nicaragua. In the rest of the region, abortions are permitted when specific conditions are met. However,
every year in Latin America, roughly 2,000 women die as a result of illegal abortion procedures that often lead to severe,
life-threatening complications. All in all, 95 percent of the 4.4 million abortions in Latin America in 2008 were illegal: a
statistic that demonstrates the difficulty of obtaining a legal abortion even when a case fits the necessary legal stipulations
to allow the procedure, and that making the procedure illegal does not make it rare. Femicide and gender-based
violence are human rights violations, and international conventions hold that
reproductive rights are human rights. Taking a step away from the controversial aspects
of the debate, it is beyond dispute that governments should be held accountable for
upholding their laws. The tendency of many Latin American governments to
ignore, or gloss over, these issues and their failure to execute legal mandates sends
a dangerous message about the region’s marginalization of women and
girls. Such neglect is an outgrowth of a long history of female disempowerment dating back to the days of colonization.
In order to guarantee that women’s rights are protected, Latin American governments must prioritize those rights. This
process includes allocating larger percentages of their budgets to ensure that sufficient resources and attention are
devoted to promoting women’s rights, and that the laws that are already in place are enforced. Realistically, such changes
will most likely be contingent upon the personal initiative of political leaders who dedicate themselves to pushing for a
reformed approach to women’s rights issues. Governments also must work to fill the dearth of statistics on femicide,
gender-based violence, and reproductive rights. International health organizations as well as international banks should
support governments in developing a standardized procedure for collecting gender-disaggregated data to ensure that there
is adequate documentation of the issues. Statistics provide a necessary basis for policy initiatives. If the challenges are not
fully understood, it is difficult to generate policies to address them. Spreading awareness and starting
conversations using statistics helps destigmatize issues, reducing the sense of shame and
humiliation that women often feel as a result of gender-related abuses. International pressure is
also a crucial catalyst for change. International organizations should encourage governments to comply with their own
laws and the international conventions they have signed. The efforts of the UN, among other global judicial bodies, are
beginning to have a tangible effect. In, 2005, the UN Human Rights Committee ruled that the Peruvian public hospital’s
decision to deny K.L. an abortion constitutes a human rights violation on behalf of the government and that the
government should compensate K.L. for her losses. This week, the Center for Reproductive Rights confirmed that the
government of Peru has acknowledged their responsibility and decided to compensate K.L., complying with the UN
Human Rights Committee’s ruling. Peru’s decision is the first of its kind, and provides reason to be optimistic that Peru
and other Latin American states will take action on the numerous other cases that are still awaiting resolution.
LIB-ISM
Liberal assumptions are problematic in their propensity to consider human
rights and ethics monolithically
Kimberly Hutchings 2013 (Kimberly Hutchings is Professor of Politics and
International Relations at Queen Mary University of London. She is a leading scholar in
international relations theory. “Ethics, Feminism and International Affairs," Ethics and
International Affairs Journal,
https://qmro.qmul.ac.uk/xmlui/bitstream/handle/123456789/8120/HUTCHINGS%20
Ethics%20and%20International%20Affairs%202013.pdf?sequence=2 //EH)
This is not simply a theoretical dispute. For difference feminists the prescriptive implications of care in
relation to peace and of justice in relation to human rights and development have been
shown to be ethically problematic for women who don’t fit with standard western liberal
assumptions about either women or humans. Many feminists from the developing world
have supported wars in the pursuit of struggles for decolonisation and national liberation
and deny that there is a necessary connection between feminist ethics and peace politics.
Similarly, many feminists in the global south are wary of the liberal language of
global human rights and economic development and argue that it reflects the moral priorities of
an earlier western history and has been used to justify first imperialism and
subsequently other forms of interventionism in the Global South. For difference feminists,
‘context’ is not equivalent to a monolithic account of ‘culture’. From the difference point of view,
culture and identity, like all other facets of social and political life, are sites of power relations and struggles, there is
therefore always a political dimension to ethics, and 23 this, according to difference feminists, is the dimension that care
and justice feminists, in different ways, neglect. For difference ethics it is ethical principles of respect for plurality and
democracy that are fundamental to feminism. Although they share with care and justice feminisms a commitment to
challenging gendered relations of power, for difference feminists specific questions about what moral values should guide
human conduct at a global level are incapable of being satisfactorily answered unless and until the world has changed in
such a way that the voices of those currently most excluded from moral debate can be heard (Spivak 1999; Mohanty 2003;
Hutchings 2004). In the meantime, moral priority must be given to those ethical values that do most to support struggles
to change the world to include the excluded, and that do least to further repress the voices of the least powerful actors in
current world politics. The problem with this ethical project is that, as difference feminists themselves point out, any
explicitly articulated universal ethical claim in international ethics always carries its own exclusions with it, intended or
unintended. This is typified by the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which, for
example, in speaking of all human beings’ fundamental right to marriage and family life,
necessarily excludes those human beings who do not fit with heterosexual norms, or with
the assumption of a humanity split into two genders (Butler 2004: 102-130). One of the feminist
ethical theorists who has addressed what difference ethics implies in an international context is Judith Butler. Focusing on
the concept of universal human rights, Butler has shown how the concept of the human in human
24 rights, by setting up a norm of what it means to be human, consistently operates so as
to situate certain categories of people as ‘less than’ human, rendering their lives in
crucial respects ‘unliveable’ and ‘ungrievable’ (Butler 2004: 225-227). Thus she directly challenges
Nussbaum’s claim that it is through an inclusive account of what it means to be human that a genuinely universal
international ethics can be articulated as a yardstick for the judgement of practice. At the same time, Butler does not
advocate the abandonment of the idea of universal rights, but rather argues that the meaning of ‘universal’ should always
be open to challenge and re-negotiation, and that we should never assume that our claims to universality actually live up
to their promise (Butler 2004: 33). Somewhat paradoxically, difference ethics is universalist in its
orientation towards giving moral priority to the excluded in general, but sees this
universalism as always failing. For difference ethics, ethical priorities will differ
depending on context, so that there is (and ought to be) no feminist consensus on either
the ethics of war or the nature of fundamental human being. It is therefore inappropriate
to condemn practices such as female circumcision in the abstract, without a full
understanding of the context of the practice and the ethical investments of the different
parties to it. Moreover, the exponent of an ethics of difference needs to take responsibility
for his or her own judgment and actions and recognise that well-intended arguments and
policies may have unforeseen effects when implemented in a top down way. In this respect, difference
ethics is linked to feminist criticisms of the ‘War on Terror’ and humanitarian
interventions from the 1990s onwards, which perpetuated a politics of 25 rescue in
which white western men ‘save’, in Spivak’s words, brown women from brown men
(Hutchings 2011).
MORALITY
Ethics theory is premised off of sexist presumptions about how women
prioritize impacts—reject Kant and util
Kimberly Hutchings 2013 (Kimberly Hutchings is Professor of Politics and
International Relations at Queen Mary University of London. She is a leading scholar in
international relations theory. “Ethics, Feminism and International Affairs," Ethics and
International Affairs Journal,
https://qmro.qmul.ac.uk/xmlui/bitstream/handle/123456789/8120/HUTCHINGS%20
Ethics%20and%20International%20Affairs%202013.pdf?sequence=2 //EH)
The most well known strand in feminist moral theory since the early 1980s has been the
idea of a feminist ethic of care, pioneered by the work of the social psychologist, Carol Gilligan (Gilligan 1982).
In the course of research into the patterns of moral reasoning of women, Gilligan came to challenge the accepted hierarchy
of moral psychological development established by Kohlberg, in which the most mature moral point of view is identified
with the development of an impartial, universalist and principled perspective on moral issues (the ethic of justice).
Kohlberg had observed in his own research that, according to his criteria, adult women were less likely to
manifest an ethic of justice and more likely to remain at (again according to his criteria)
an earlier stage of moral development in which moral problems continued to be
addressed in an ad hoc, highly personalised and contextualised way. In a familiar feminist move,
Gilligan did not so much overturn Kohlberg's findings as re-evaluate them, arguing that the characteristics of
women's moral thinking were not inferior to an ethic of justice but demonstrated an
equally advanced and sophisticated post-conventional moral point of view. In the wake of the
argument between Kohlberg and Gilligan a huge literature has arisen in social psychology and ethical and political theory
which both criticises and develops Gilligan's original insight (Bubeck 1998; Held 2006; Robinson 1999; 2011). In terms of
feminist ethical and political theory, the concerns of the debate shifted quickly from arguments
about whether men and women actually think differently in relation to moral problems
to exploring the pros and cons of the features of women's moral reasoning identified by
Gilligan, features which have come to be defined as those of an 'ethic of care'. The key
feature of an ethic of care is that it is embedded in the practicalities of relationships of
responsibility for others. Crucial to ethical judgment from the perspective of care is the importance of
particularity (knowing who and what you are making a moral judgment about); connectedness (recognising your actual
relationship to others in the process of judgment); and context (paying attention to the broad and narrow context of
ethical judgment). In her book, Maternal Thinking: Towards a Politics of Peace, Ruddick draws on the idea of
an ethic of care as a central part of her argument for a feminist moral orientation in the
context of international politics (Ruddick 1990). The book involves a rejection of realist
arguments as to the tragic inevitability or structural necessity of war and communitarian
claims as to the special ethical status of the collective group or nation. In addition it
develops a critique of traditional just war thinking - in both utilitarian and Kantian
variants - as well as a positive characterization of how a different kind of moral judgment
and political practice is possible in relation to war. There are essentially two stages to Ruddick's
argument. In the first stage she offers a phenomenology of what she terms 'maternal thinking', in the second stage she
reads off the implications of using maternal thinking as a critical 'feminist standpoint' for making judgments about the
ethics of war and the appropriate feminist response to war. 'Maternal thinking', according to Ruddick, 'is a discipline in
attentive love', a discipline which is rooted in the demands of a particular relation of care, that between mother and child,
and which reflects a particular range of metaphysical attitudes, cognitive capacities and virtues (Ruddick 1990, 123).
Ruddick is careful to insist that she is neither equating mothers with biological mothers, nor presuming that actual
mothers are all good at maternal thinking. Ruddick draws a contrast between the ideals of response to
threat, conflict and harm which are inherent in any practice in which violence is
understood as a permissible instrument for the attainment of goals and modes of
responding to threat, conflict and harm which are premised on the unacceptability of
violence. She finds paradigmatic examples of the former in militarism and of the latter in
the labour of care. "Caregivers are not, predictably, better people than are militarists.
Rather, they are engaged in a different project. Militarists aim to dominate by
creating the structural vulnerabilities that caregivers take for granted. 13 They
arm and train so that they can, if other means of domination fail, terrify and injure their
opponents. By contrast, in situations where domination through bodily pain, and the fear
of pain, is a structural possibility, caregivers try to resist temptations to assault and
neglect, even though they work among smaller, frailer, vulnerable people who may excite
domination." (Ruddick 1993, 121) Ruddick is aware of the problems of simply taking and applying the regulative
ideals of care-giving practices to the realm of international politics, but nevertheless, she extrapolates criteria of ethical
judgment from caregiving practice which she argues do have implications for what should or should not be permissible
within the international realm. Ruddick argues that maternal thinking, located as it is in the marginalized and denigrated
sphere of caring labour, provides a standpoint from which the absurdity of both strategic military and just war thinking
becomes evident. Although Ruddick does not claim that the feminist standpoint provides a universally valid ground for
ethical judgment, she does make a strong claim for the potential of maternal thinking to illuminate the meaning of war
from a critical perspective (Ruddick 1990, 135; Hartsock 1983). For Ruddick, both militarism and just war
theory share a commitment to the expendability of concrete lives in abstract causes to
which maternal thinking is inherently opposed. Ruddick claims that this means that the implication of
maternal thinking is not just the rejection of war but the active embracing of peace politics, a fight against war which
draws on the acknowledgement of responsibility and relationship and the 14 specificity of need and obligations which are
inherent in a proper understanding of the labour of caring (Ruddick 1990, 141-159). "The analytic fictions of just war
theory require a closure of moral issues final enough to justify killing and "enemies" abstract enough to be killable. In
learning to welcome their own and their children's changes, mothers become accustomed to open-ended, concrete
reflection on intricate and unpredictable spirits. Maternal attentive love, restrained and clear sighted, is ill adapted to
intrusive, let alone murderous judgments of others' lives." (Ruddick 1990, 150) In Ruddick's theory the logic of domestic
relations in the restricted sense of the domestic or private sphere is set against the logic of the public sphere of both state
and inter-state relations, although with the acknowledgement that in practice the former has tended to support and
reinforce the latter. Ruddick places realism, morality of states, Kantianism, utilitarianism and communitarianism all
firmly in the realm of the logic of public 'masculinist' theory and practice. Although it is clear that Ruddick does put an
ethical value on humans, this is based not on a notion of inherent individual right, but on
relation - value inheres in relations to others, in particular in the recognition of
responsibility for others. For Ruddick then, the realm of international politics is primarily a
realm of human relations, not of human, nation or state rights or an international state
system. Ruddick assumes that ethical perspectives are the outcome of concrete practices and can never be neutral, but
at the same time clearly suggests that some kinds of practice are inherently better than others. This distinction draws
attention to the fact that 15 although Ruddick presents an understanding of the international realm very different from
mainstream ethical theories, nevertheless, she argues for the notion of a standpoint from which critical judgments of
international politics can be made. This standpoint is inherently prescriptive and involves a commitment to the practical
and political struggle against violence and for peace. There are several different implications of Ruddick's argument in
relation to ethical judgment. Firstly, from the standpoint of maternal thinking, the appropriate
stance to take in ethical judgment is to attempt to build on particular experiences of the
practice of care to help to identify with and take responsibility for the needs and
suffering of others. Ruddick frequently cites the example of the Argentinian mothers of the disappeared, whose
movement gradually grew to embrace concerns with children across the world who had suffered harm: "This is not
transcendent impartiality but a sympathetic apprehension of another grounded in one's own particular suffering."
(Ruddick 1993, 123) This is not just a matter of 'feeling for' another's pain, but assuming an
attitude of responsibility for it and therefore trying to do something about it. Secondly,
however, maternal thinking is sensitive to the specific contexts in which ethical dilemmas
are embedded and the importance of appreciating the ethical weight of the perspectives
of all parties to any dispute or conflict. For Ruddick, ethical judgment has to be on a case by case basis, but
without ready made principles of adjudication. Although the idea of maternal thinking is in principle non-violent, it also
makes clear that there are no universally applicable algorithms that can be applied to any given situation to render
definitive answers to ethical questions, so that even the use of violence cannot 16 be entirely ruled out a priori (Ruddick
1990: 138; Ruddick 1998). The judgment of the maternal thinker is oriented by the ideals implicit in care, but these are
regulative rather than determining in their effects. This brings us to the third feature of ethical judgment from the
standpoint of maternal thinking. In contrast to the traditional picture of ethical judgment as a matter to be worked
through at the level of the individual conscience in relation to specified criteria, maternal thinking implies that ethical
judgment is a matter of dialogue and context and relies crucially on the capacity to hear what others are saying in arriving
at the criteria for judgment. Ethical judgment is therefore in principle an interactive and collective rather than an
individual project.
NUCLEAR DETERRENCE
Nuclear weapons are the ultimate patriarchal tool in their ability to commit
mass murder apathetically—deterrence is useless against nuclear rhetoric
that normalizes using the threat of killing millions to win ballots
Ray Acheson October 2018 ("Ray Acheson is the Director of Reaching Critical Will. She
provides analysis, research, and advocacy across a range of disarmament and arms
control issues. Ray leads WILPF’s work on stigmatising war and violence, including by
campaigning for a nuclear weapon ban treaty and challenging the arms trade and the use
of explosive weapons and armed drones. Ray is also on the Board of Directors of the Los
Alamos Study Group and represents WILPF on several coalition steering groups,
including the International Campaign to Abolish Nuclear Weapons (ICAN). She has an
Honours BA in Peace and Conflict Studies from the University of Toronto and an MA in
Politics from The New School for Social Research. A feminist critique of the atomic
bomb," Heinrich-Böll-Stiftung, October 2018,
https://www.boell.de/en/2018/10/12/feminist-critique-atomic-bomb //EH)
Feminist scholar Carol Cohn wrote a story about her experience working with nuclear war strategists in the 1980s. In this
story, a white male physicist, working on modelling nuclear counterforce attacks, exclaims
to a group of other white male physicists about the cavalier way they are talking
about civilian casualties . “Only thirty million!” he bursts out. “ Only thirty million human
beings killed instantly ?” The room went silent. He felt ashamed. This is an important story about nuclear
weapons—or rather, about the ways in which those who think they benefit from nuclear
weapons maintain their dominance over how we think and talk about these weapons. We
are supposed to think about nuclear weapons as “deterrents”. Their advocates argue that
the mere possession of nuclear weapons deters and prevents conflict. In the right hands, they
are good for humanity, the argument goes. Nuclear weapons are to be talked about in the abstract, as
magical tools that keep us safe and main stability in the world. “War is peace. Freedom is Slavery.
Ignorance is Strength.” So goes the slogan of The Party in George Orwell’s novel 1984. Weapons prevent war. So
goes the “realist” discourse about nuclear weapons. But, when it comes to nuclear
weapons, who is really being unrealistic? Those who assume that we can exist in this
world, with all its tensions and conflicts and fears and instabilities, and not see the use of
nuclear weapons? Those who believe that a theory called “nuclear deterrence,” cooked up by nuclear war strategists,
is infallible? Or is it those of us who are see the inherent dangers in the atomic bomb and seek its abolition? Who
believe that security cannot credibly be based on threatening to commit genocide, or to
destroy the entire world? If we are willing to admit there may be some flaws in the discourse of
deterrence, we should ask how has it survived and thrived? How has it usurped and held onto the mantle of “realism”
for so long? A feminist analysis is very useful to answer this question. It can help us understand how nuclear
weapons are a patriarchal tool, and how it benefits the patriarchy to advocate for their
continued existence in the arsenals of a select few governments. The patriarchy is a social
order dominated by men—in particular, men performing a certain brand of militarised
masculinity that associates weapons and war with power. This form of
masculinity influences the possession, proliferation, and use of everything from nuclear
weapons to small arms. This is a masculinity in which ideas like strength, courage, and
protection are equated with violence. It is a masculinity in which the capacity and
willingness to use weapons, engage in combat, and kill other human beings is seen as
essential to being “a real man”. This type of violent, militarised masculinity harms
everyone. It harms everyone who does not perform that gender norm—women, LGBTQIA-identified people, non-
normative men. It requires oppression of those deemed “weaker” on the basis of
gender norms . It results in domestic violence. It results in violence against
women . It results in violence against gay and trans people. But this kind of masculinity also means
violence against other men performing violent masculinities. Men mostly kill each other, inside and
outside of conflict. Violent masculinities make male bodies more expendable. Women and
children, obnoxiously lumped together in countless UN resolutions and media reports,
are more likely be deemed “innocent civilians,” while men are more likely be to be
considered militants or combatants. Often, in conflict, civilian men are targeted—or counted
in casualty recordings—as militants only because they are men of a certain age. But
militarised masculinity is not just about death. It is also a major impediment to
disarmament, peace, and gender equality. It makes disarmament seem weak. It makes
peace seem utopian. It makes protection without weapons seem absurd. The concept of nuclear
deterrence is a product of the patriarchy . It is designed to justify outrageous
behaviour by those with power and privilege—the behaviour of spending billions of
dollars on weapons that risk the world’s total destruction—in order to maintain that
power and privilege. And those espousing this theory have managed to maintain their dominance over the nuclear
weapon debate by employing the tools of the patriarchy, such as gaslighting and victim blaming. The term gaslighting
comes from a play written in 1938, in which a woman’s husband slowly manipulates her into believing she is going insane.
We can see the technique employed broadly in politics, particularly right now in the United States over issues of economic
injustice, racism, and sexual violence. It is the denial of the lived reality of marginalised populations; the assertion that,
“there is nothing to see here, everything is fine.” “MY BUTTON IS BIGGER THAN YOURS” A FEMINIST CRITIQUE OF
THE NUCLEAR BOMB Gaslighting in the realm of nuclear weapons has been practiced since the beginning of the atomic
age. The discourse of deterrence denies the lived reality of those who have experienced the
intergenerational harms of nuclear weapons use and testing. It makes it a thoughtcrime,
à la 1984, to consider the humanitarian impact of nuclear weapons. One of the ways it
does this is to “feminise” anyone who tries to raise these issues. That physicist in Carol Cohn’s
story confessed to her, after his outburst to the room of other male physicists, “Nobody said a word. They didn’t even look
at me. It was awful. I felt like a woman.” The association of caring about the murder of thirty million
people with “being a woman” is all about seeing women as being weak. Being a woman
means caring about wrong things; letting your “emotions” get the better of you; focusing
on human beings when you should be focused on “strategy”. This means that caring about the
humanitarian and environmental impacts of nuclear weapons is feminine. It is not relevant to the job that “real men” have
to do to “protect” their countries. It not only suggests that caring about the use of nuclear weapons is spineless and silly,
but also makes the pursuit of disarmament seem to be an unrealistic, irrational objective. This is not just an issue of the
1980s. This happens now. As diplomats at the UN worked to ban nuclear weapons, they were
ridiculed by their counterparts in nuclear-armed countries. They were called “radical
dreamers”. They were told they were being “emotional”. They were told they do not
understand how to protect their people. They were told their security interests do not
matter—or do not exist at all. They were told that banning nuclear weapons is
illegitimate and naïve. They were even told that banning nuclear weapons might
undermine international security so much it could even result in the use of nuclear
weapons. Which brings us to another patriarchal technique: victim blaming. This is where
men argue that women who have been victims of sexual assault must have been acting or dressing a certain way to deserve
the assault. With nuclear weapons, the argument is similar: if you try to take away our toys
of massive nuclear violence, we will have no choice but to use them, and it will be your
fault. Feminist analysis helps us understand the gendered nature of support for nuclear
weapons. It also gives us tools to deconstruct the opposition of banning nuclear weapons .
It helps us see how certain expectations about masculinity and femininity, coded through our social norms, mean that
bombs make us strong and disarmament makes us weak. About how “more weapons” is rational and “less weapons” is
irrational. About how those who want to challenge the dominant narrative are kept in line by having their manhood
threatened. A feminist analysis also offers us techniques to overcome this. It provides space for alternative voices. It does
not diminish care for human beings by associating it with weakness, but with strength. It offers a concept of security based
on equity and justice rather than weapons and war. It means being guided by affected communities. By survivors. By those
living in places and spaces that are marginalised and excluded from dominant narratives. Nuclear weapons are
the ultimate symbol of injustice. They bring death and destruction, but also inequality
and manipulation. They are the ultimate patriarchal tool: the ultimate way for the
privileged to maintain their power.
PEACE PROCESS
Peace processes and negotiations exclude women – asking the “man”
question must come before policy analysis
Aoláin 17 – Robina Chair in Law, Public Policy and Society at the University of Minnesota Law
School and a Chair in Law, University of Ulster’s Transitional Justice Institute, Consultant to and
expert for a number of institutions including UN Women & OHCHR, Member of the Joint
Committee of Northern Ireland Human Rights Commission and Irish Commission for Human
Rights created by the Good Friday/Belfast Agreement, LLB from Queens University, LLM from
Colombia Law School; PhD in Law from Queens University (Fionnauala Ní Aoláin, “The
Aftermath of War,” March 2017,
https://www.researchgate.net/publication/318586041_Women_gender_equality_and_post-
conflict_transformation_Lessons_learned_implications_for_the_future)//cpark
**Note: DDR stands for Disarmament, Demilitarization, and Reintegration
For a time, a revitalized post–Cold War milieu allowed for greater bilateral state and international institutional attention to the vagrancies
of conflict sequenc- ing and endings, and created openings to engage women and other marginalized groups in peace settlements. Now, a
détente and accompanying crisis in the wake of the faltering Arab Spring transitions and renewed East-West fractures over the use of force
outside the collective security system in Ukraine and Crimea brings uncertainty and fragmentation to conflict ending processes around the
world. This
is most obviously evidenced by the struggle to fashion any binding agreement
on ending the Syrian conflict despite the avalanche of refugees pouring across local and regional borders. Throughout the
1990s and early twenty-first cen- tury attention to conflict regulation fashioned an expanded role for overarching international legal
structures – namely peacemaking agreements and transitional structures including
international administration and international criminal courts. Both become particularly
relevant as opportunistic sites to advance advocacy for women’s experiences in war. Such
advocacy was critical as it was abundantly clear that women were highly marginalized in
international instutional settings, their issues rarely addressed, and the “deals” were
largely being done without them. While women are missing from key roles in
peace negotiations and gov- ernment, they often dominate in civil society
movements that create “safe” and neutral spaces in conflicted societies. In this latter role,
women frequently provide the grassroots networking and social support structures relied
upon local and international elites to embed peace processes. In many jurisdictions, they are the
public face of a transition to peace via highly essentialized public roles an d politi- cal
reliance on narratives of harms particular to women, children, suffering
and vulnerably undergirding appeals to recalibrate the political order. For
example, in Northern Ireland women took a lead role through the creation of a women’s
political party, the Women’s Coalition, in advocacy for a peace agreement and “sold” the value of
the peace agreement when a national referen- dum was held to approve it. This reliance is generally under-
acknowledged and rarely funded by the post-conflict reconstruction funds that follow
from international engagement with conflicted states. The under-acknowledgment goes
to a broader pattern of exclusion that remains a consistently gendered aspect of politi-
cal settlement. Conflict sites such as Northern Ireland (see chapter 4 this volume) illustrate the extent to which a highly organized
women’s civil society sector, historically associated with the global peace movement, and
well organized to advance legal and political space around such “neutral” issues such as
domestic violence was able to leverage its cross-community capacity and political organ-
izing to advance the local peace process. Despite this reliance, arguably little has been
done to advance the security concerns of women in post-conflict settings.
Negotiation seldom addresses the need to reorder post-conflict security sector reform
processes to better engage women’s needs. Gender inclusion gaps have led to
impassioned advocacy for women’s insertion in peace processes and sup- port for mainstreaming
issues of particular concern to women into the fulcrum of the “deals” being made. The success of these advocacy efforts remains difficult to
measure. While
there is evidence of increased female presence at the peacemaking table,
influence upon core elements including the security dimensions of peace deals remains
marginal. Empirical analysis shows inconsistent results for greater female
presence, and little more than an ad hoc patchwork of gender-specific
provisions in a broad swathe of peace agreements. A broader debate has emerged within feminist
circles concerning the value of representation and the challenge of delivering better outcomes for
women from an “add women and stir” approach. Increasingly scholars and practitioners recognize that they
must pay greater attention to negotiation “tipping points” so as to progress influence on security outcomes as
well as paying attention to which women are in the room and being clearer about the
multiple and intersectional interests served by women who are present in negotiations.
Attention is also being paid to the importance of aligning elite interests with women’s
interest through the process of political set- tlement and addressing the ways in which a variety of structural and pre-existing social and
economic determinants have a decisive effect on peacemaking efforts for women. Over time, a more nuanced understanding has also
emerged of masculinity in the peacemaking environment, and the ways in which some men derive benefits from the status quo and others
do not. A substantial amount of literature has been generated over the years regarding the
forms of masculinity that
emerge in times of armed conflict and war. While war literature across many disciplines has made significant
conceptual and practical use of the term “masculinity,” the concept has been less applied and understood to be relevant in the post-conflict
asking the “man” question is critical, thereby
context. In the context of DDR,
interrogating where and how men are situated in relation to the creation,
per- petration, institutionalization and ending of violence. Applying a core
analytical insight from masculinity theory—namely the emergence of “hyper”
masculinity, and its enlarged and elevated role in conflict requires thinking
through what are the implications for DDR when hyper masculine practices
pervade “war-time” and seep beyond it. By the time conflict ends, men who have
acted militarily and their (generally) male political elites are deeply enmeshed in a
cultural vision of manhood. As former combatants in Colombia explained to anthropologist Kim- berly Theidon, for
example, joining a paramilitary group allowed the men “to ‘feel like a big man in the streets
of their barrios,’ to ‘go out with the prettiest young women,’ and to ‘dress well,’ privileges
they insist would not have been possible if they weren’t carrying a gun. The prevalence of
this kind of masculinity poses complex issues for undoing violence, for mainstreaming
gender equality and for remaking societies that have been fractured and deeply divided. It
seems particularly pertinent to ask how DDR may contribute to the unloosening or remaking of masculinity patterns and hierarchies.
Thinking critically about DDR means addressing parallel discourses maintain- ing the view that “civilians are . . . ill-equipped to address
substantive issues related to the security sector.” If this is well-received wisdom in ordinary times, we should assume that it has a
heightened sensitivity in situations of great political and military flux. The “exclude civilians” view is compounded by the vision that
formulating and executing security policy (in the narrowest sense) is a legitimate responsibility (almost a “spheres of competence”
approach) given to the security forces themselves, and where applicable to international military elites. Addition- ally civil society
organizations (the majority of which do not typically embrace the women’s sector) shy away from substantive engagement with such bodies
or are simply not represented in the spaces where the conversations about policy formation take place. Thus, women
face
additional layers of exclusion because they are unrelentingly absent from the military
decision-making processes and the small number of women who “get to the negotiation
tables” will be unlikely candidates as civilian additions to security sector reform
conversations.
In recent decades, the United States has increasingly relied on PMCs to carry out its
military goals and implement foreign policy objectives (Singer, 2002; Avant, 2005).
Gender-critical scholarship (Eichler, 2012; Higate, 2012; Joachim and Schneiker, 2012)
has addressed the gendered nature of privatization processes and their effects on
military labour division, public scrutiny over gender equality, and the gendering of
public discourses on military matters: The shifting of boundaries between state and
private military sectors has led to women's enhanced exclusion from the military realm,
less state control over military gender relations, and the reconstitution of military
masculinity as a state-supporting ideal. Increased utilization of private contractors might
thus also contribute to the remasculinization of foreign policy. As the state partially
withdraws from recruitment and PMCs take over military responsibilities, women are
excluded from military jobs and marginalized as a military workforce. Their under
representation in the military and the police, the main recruitment pools of PMCs
(Schultz and Yeung, 2005: 4), is not only mirrored but aggravated on private military
labour markets, because the preferred occupational specialities of private security
providers are those from which women are formally excluded in the regular forces (Elsea
et al., 2008: 37). PMCs are also less dependent on the female workforce, because they are
not bound to national borders in recruiting. Women's integration into the private
security sector is thus uneven and limits them to positions that are low in status and
unskilled (Erickson et al., 2000). While women have gained increased admission to the
regular forces and a certain degree of equality therein, military functions are gradually
being removed to the private security market. Women's struggle for equal access to
military jobs, involvement in military policy, and attainment of full citizenship rights via
military service could thus become increasingly futile. For the realm of foreign policy,
this effectively means that military functions associated with foreign policy - that is,
defending national interests and defining the nation's role in the global order - are
increasingly carried out by men. At the same time, initiatives for more gender equality in
the services are undermined because growing numbers of those fighting wars are not
affected by state regulations on gender equality. Military privatization also has the
potential to harm gender equality in the societies in which contractors operate: The
cultivation of aggressive masculinity in the institutional culture of PMCs has been linked
to human rights abuses such as forced prostitution and the trafficking of women and
children (Schultz and Yeung, 2005: 4-5). At the discursive level, privatization reaffirms
the link between foreign policy and masculinity, when PMCs represent themselves as the
efficient, assertive, masculine counterpart to the inefficient, weak, democratic and
gender-integrated state military. Though masculinity concepts in the private sector
cannot be reduced to the stereotype of 'trigger-happy Blackwater Cowboys' (Higate,
2012: 322), the private security sector provides a new arena in which masculinity is being
redefined as the efficient guarantor of national security, a core competence in warfare
and a privileged category in regard to matters of security and foreign policy. In recent
years, initiatives have been taken to enhance public scrutiny of the private sector and
ensure protection of US and local women from contractor violence. These were often
motivated by a fear that public scandals involving contractor misconduct would harm the
USA's reputation and increase insurgency violence. The Department of Defense has
taken a number of steps to improve the management and tracking of contractors
(Schwartz and Swain, 2011). Cases of sexual harassment and rape of female contractors
by their male colleagues have also led to Congressional investigations (Elsea et al., 2008:
14; Inspector General, 2010). These attempts to limit and control the private security
market are related to the shifts in the course of foreign policy discussed above. Military
privatization during the Bush years contributed to the depoliticization and militarization
of foreign policy (Leander and Van Munster, 2007) - trends that have been reflected in
exploding Pentagon budgets and shrinking funds for the State Department and USAID.
In this phase, private security experts have become more influential with their
interpretations of diverse global problems and international conflicts as 'security
threats'. The Obama administration is trying to move away from a threat-based foreign
and defence policy and to re-establish diplomatic institutions and processes. All of these
objectives imply restraining the private military industry. Obama and Secretary of State
Clinton both took a tough line against the contractor business during their electoral
campaigns. Obama also introduced legislature to increase the accountability and
transparency of PMCs during his term as senator. It remains to be seen how the
administration is going to balance these commitments with the growing dependency on
PMCs after the drawdown of forces.
TURNS SOLVENCY
Disarmament is impossible absent the alt
Myrttinen 03 - researcher with the Institute for Social Transformation in Yogyakarta, Indonesia , post-
graduate student at the University of Natal in Durban, South Africa, researching masculinities in violent
nation-building processes (Henri Myrttinen, “Disarming masculinities,”2003, Four,
https://philarchive.org/archive/FERRMA-2)//cpark
While there is an undeniable and visible ‘special relationship’ between men and weapons, this is not simply a ‘natural’
consequence of being a man—nor do all men share this special relationship. While the relationship between men and
weapons is often sexually charged, simply equating weapons with phallic extensions is too simple. ‘Doing’
masculinity with the help of a weapon is instead the visible manifestation of certain,
violent and often militarized enactments of masculinity, which need to be analysed in
their respective historical and cultural surroundings. These enactments, in turn, have
far- reaching social and political consequences, be it on domestic violence or foreign
policy. Violent models of masculinity often become hegemonic, with the weapon being
used as both a symbol and a tool to demonstrate and enforce this hegemony against
others, including competing masculinities. This is often the case in conflict and post-conflict situations but also in
societies that are more or less openly violent. Moreover, militarized masculinity is often a backlash to
perceived threats to male dominance and power. Disarmament measures, along with the demobilization
and reintegration of former combatants, are often dealt with as technical ‘numbers game’. A successful and
sustainable process of disarmament, though, requires a gendered analysis
of the situation, looking at how weapons, concepts of violence and notions of
‘masculinity’ and ‘femininity’ interact in the respective socio-cultural environment. The
reduction in the number and strict control of weapons should be coupled with a
‘demobilization’ of the militarized, violent concepts of masculinity that would see a
weapons collection process as ‘emasculating’. One needs to work with the alternative unarmed, non-
violent concepts of masculinity and femininity already existing in the society in question, further developing and opening
possibilities for these and empowering them, thus laying the groundwork for a sustainable peace. […] Conventional
wisdom has it that men enjoy a ‘special relationship’ with weapons, a view which seems to be corroborated by empirical
evidence. The relationship between ‘masculine’ men and weapons is such a prevailing cliché that one finds it everywhere,
rom advertising to left-wing revolutionary posters, fascist imagery to the novels of Hemingway, war memorials to
homoerotic art, from the porn industry to feminist critiques of male militarism. Weapons systems are designed
mostly by men, marketed mostly for men and used mostly by men—and in many parts of
the world, they are the primary source of death for men. Boys are given guns and swords to play with
or they make them for themselves. Adolescent male warriors and middle-aged male hunters pose for cameras brandishing
their weapons. Michael Ignatieff their guns or hurling grenades with flexed, oversized pectoral muscles bulging out of the
If one considers gender, in this case masculinity, to
opened shirts of their uniforms.
be socially constructed, and one additionally wants to further the cause of
disarmament, it becomes evident that this bond between men and
weapons and how this is linked with violent notions of masculinity need
to be investigated and analysed further in order to be able to develop
sustainable disarmament policies. The importance of analysing violent masculinity
gains even more significance if one accepts the notion of conflicts increasingly being ones
of ‘identity’, in which the gendered ethnic identities that are constructed and mobilized
tend to be highly militarized. In this article, I will analyse some of the ways in which enactments of
masculinities and the wielding of weapons go together, the sexualized imagery used in conjunction with weapons, and the
models of masculinity that lie behind these concepts. I will argue that the public display, the threat of or
actual use of weapons is an intrinsic part of violent, militarized models of masculinity. The
specific ‘message’ conveyed by the display and use of weapons is dependent on the social and cultural environment. I will
argue that weapons are part of one notion of masculinity, a militarized view that equates
‘manliness’ with the economic and social gains, wielding power over unarmed males and
females. This can often be linked to a crisis of backlash in which ‘traditional’ gender roles are reinforced. The
construct of the male warrior/protector relies on the suppression of others— including
competing concepts of masculinity. Weapons and their public display seek to underline
the ‘manly’ prowess of the bearer, but tragically often also undermine it—men are not only
disproportionately the perpetrators of violence, but also often its victims.
WAR
Hypermasculine war making exacerbates all their war impacts and
reproduces hegemonic war-prone structures, meaning the affirmative can
never solve
Chick 2001 (Garry Chick is a fellow at the Leisure Studies Program at Pennsylvania
State University. “Making Men of Them: Male Socialization for Warfare and Combative
Sports,”
https://pdfs.semanticscholar.org/3af5/8faa33d70298c3aeee438a459ee31880fb43.pdf
//EH)
The last several years have seen the publication of several books and numerous articles that address the human
propensity for violence and aggression. The apparent increase in research on violence is probably due, at
least in part, to the seemingly incessant inter group hostilities in many areas around the world but also the frightening and
sometimes deadly intra group conflict as has taken place in schools in America and elsewhere. Recent inquiries address
male violence and aggression in various manifestations, including warfare, homicide,
rape, and domestic violence. In the main, authors have examined these forms of violence from perspectives
framed substantially by the old nature-nurture controversy. That is, is violence and aggression are seen as innate and
evolved characteristics of humans, especially among males (e.g., Ghiglieri 1999; Low 2000; Wrangham and Peterson
1996; Thornhill and Palmer 2000a, 2000b), or as the result of social learning (e.g., Ehrenreich 1997; Keely 1996;
O’Connell 1989). The argument is an old one. In 1935, Margaret Mead published, Sex and Temperament in Three
Primitive Societies, her landmark study of gender roles among the Arapesh, the Mundugumor, and the Tchambuli of New
Guinea. Mead described the three societies has having three widely variant sorts of gender roles. Among the Arapesh, men
and women had similar roles and were cooperative, unaggressive, and sensitive. Among the Mundugumor, on the other
hand, Mead described both men and women as uncooperative, aggressive, and insensitive to others. Finally, Mead
described Tchambuli women as economically and politically dominant and responsible while men were submissive.
Women were economically productive, political leaders, and engaged in warfare while men stayed home with the children.
So, by American standards, both males and females among the Arapesh could be described as “feminine” while both could
be described as “masculine” among the Mundugumor. The Tchambuli were opposite from what American culture dictated,
with men being feminine and women being masculine. Mead’s position suggests that she believed that men’s and women’s
gender roles are highly plastic and that differences in cultural standards and socialization practices can lead to gender role
practices completely at odds with what we in the West would regard as “natural.” She indicated that: “We are forced
to conclude that human nature is almost unbelievably malleable, responding accurately
and contrastingly to contrasting cultural conditions” (1935:280). However, Gewertz (1981) restudied
the Tchambuli during the 1970s and found that Mead’s characterization of feminine males and masculine females was not
accurate. In fact, Chambri (as they call themselves) men are aggressive and Chambri females are submissive. Gewertz
claimed that Mead had studied the Chambri during a transitional time for them, in the 1930s, when they had been
defeated and driven from their homes by an enemy tribe. What Mead had observed was Chambri men working around
domestic camps, rebuilding houses, engaged in ritual, and doing artistic work. Mead had assumed that this was typical
activity for them when, in fact, it was not. To be fair, Mead later expressed the belief that gender role variability is
constrained by the physiological differences between men and women (Brown 1991). Despite the efforts of Mead and other
cultural determinists to show that gender roles are highly malleable, ethnographic evidence
suggests that men everywhere are pretty much like what they are expected to be in the
United States. On average, men are more aggressive, more domineering, more violent, more
competitive, less caring, and less sensitive to others than women (see, e.g., Brown 1991; Segall et
al. 1990; Ghiglieri 1999). Still, whether one favors an evolutionary, biological perspective or and approach based on social
learning, individuals and groups appear to differ both intra- and inter-culturally in terms of their propensity for
aggression and violent behavior. All humans belong to the same species and no compelling evidence indicates that
observed differences in levels of aggressive behavior between members of different cultures are due to biology. Such
differences almost certainly depend on the environment, including social learning in the form of socialization of children
and adolescents. The purpose of this paper is to examine cross-culturally the relationship between the inculcation of
aggression in late childhood and adolescence and several forms of aggressive and violent behavior among adults. 2.
Hypermasculinity Some men, in some societies, and under some conditions, exhibit
extreme forms of stereotypic male behavior that often has been termed
“hypermasculinity,” but is also known as “protest masculinity,” and “compensatory
masculinity.” Broude (1990:103), for instance, describes the protest masculinity profile as involving
high levels of physical aggression, as well as “destructiveness, low tolerance for delay of
gratification, crime, drinking, and similar dispositions.” Pleck, Sonenstein, and Ku (1994) relate
school problems, substance abuse, delinquency, and sexual activity among adolescent males in the US to what they term
“masculinity ideology.” Pleck, Sonenstein, and Ku (1994) discuss three basic perspectives on the development of the male
role and how that development may lead to problem behaviors in males. These include (1) male sex role identity, (2) trait
masculinity, and (3) social role analysis.
Male sex role identity theory proposes that “persons have
an intrinsic developmental need or imperative to develop gender role identity, which ... is
directly expressed through possession of the traits, attitudes, and interests typical for
one’ sex” (Pleck et al. 1994:166). However, young males may fail to acquire their gender role
identity due to a relative absence of male role models and by factors such as feminized
environments in schools and the changing role of females in society (Pleck et al. 1994). Hence,
male gender role identity formation is at risk and the ensuing insecurity may be
expressed through hypermasculine behavior, including aggression, violence, and
delinquency. According to Toby (1966:20), “Much of the exaggerated roughness and toughness of preadolescent and
adolescent boys should be understood ... as the result of unconscious needs to repudiate a natural identification with their
mothers.” According to Pleck et al. (1994), research based on male sex role identity often focused on
father absence, rather than directly on measures of male identity, as father absence was
regarded as the prime factor leading to an insecure identity. The theory of male sex role identity has
lost favor in recent years as gender identity (i.e., knowing that you are male or female) has been separated from gender
roles (i.e., personality and other traits culturally defined as masculine or feminine) (Pleck et al. 1994). The trait
masculinity perspective began as conceptually related to male gender identity theory and
developed from the introduction of research on masculinity-femininity (M-F). M-F scales were
developed during the 1930s and were understood to indicate gender identity: high scores on an M-F scale indicated that a
male had been successful in acquiring male gender role identity (Pleck et al. 1994). Later, rather than M-F being
conceptualized as unidimensional, it became conceived as two-dimensional, with male trait masculinity seen as distinctive
from female trait masculinity. Hence, individual scores could vary on M and F somewhat independently and being high on
both was seen to correlate with certain positive characters, such as self-esteem (Pleck et al. 1994:169). Later still, both M
and F were conceptualized as having positive and negative aspects; problem behavior among males could be interpreted as
due to elevated M- (or “negative masculinity) scores (Pleck et al. 1994). Social role analysis is a social constructionist
perspective wherein societies are presumed to contain cultural definitions of masculinity (Pleck at al. 1994). Hence,
though they may be officially disapproved, many Western societies hold that engaging in certain kinds of behaviors
validate masculine identity. Indeed, the fact that these behaviors, which may include engaging in premarital sex, alcohol
and drug use, vandalism, and so on, are disapproved is itself a major factor in their value as validators of masculine
identity. Pleck et al. (1994:170) indicate that for social role analysis to be of research value, “social
expectations and male culture require translation into a concept that describes the
individual male’s acceptance of the definition of masculinity, and his internalization of
the male culture, of his society.” They propose the term “masculinity ideology.” They do not view this as a
personality trait, as such, but as an ideology, or set of beliefs and expectations about what men are supposed to be like and
how they should behave (Pleck et al. 1994:170). From this perspective, male problem behavior is not because individuals
are high in the negative masculinity trait, “but that they believe in a particular (traditional) conception of masculinity”
(Pleck et al. 1994:171). Similar theories have been proposed and tested in the cross-cultural literature in order to explain
hypermasculinity. Broude (1990) notes that cross-cultural researchers, especially J. W. M. Whiting and his associates,
have focused on the status-envy theory of sex identity acquisition. According to this perspective, hypermasculine behavior
is due to child socialization conditions that result in feminine identification being primary among boys while masculine
identification is secondary. In his later work, Whiting viewed the controllers of valued resources as those who are envied,
with status envy leading to identification with the person envied (Broude 1990). If boys understand women to
have control of valued resources, they will come to identify with females. But, when later
they learn that men actually control resources, they will face a sex identity conflict.
According to Whiting and Whiting (1975), they then may engage in hypermasculine behaviors in order to resolve the
conflict. Fatherabsence is often used as a variable to measure of status envy in that young boys are presumed to be likely to
see females as in control of valuable resources in the absence of men. Broude (1990) also notes that psychologically
oriented researchers commonly posit a more direct influence of father-absence on hypermasculinity. This view holds that
the absence of fathers, who would provide appropriate male role models, impedes the development of sex identity and sex
typed behaviors in boys. Regardless of how father-absence is implicated in hypermasculinity, there is good evidence to
show that the absence of a male role model will result in sex identity problems for boys and, possibly, hypermasculine
behavior styles, in adolescent and adult males (Broude 1990). In her paper, Broude (1990) set out to test, using cross-
cultural data, whether father-absence is indeed related to hypermasculinity and, if so, to see why. In particular, she
examined the status-envy theory. She developed a measure of protest masculinity
(hypermasculinity) based on several existing scales that relate to the concept . These had been
developed by Slater and Slater (1965) and Bacon et al. (1963). From these scales, she selected measures of “(1) pursuit of
military glory; (2) pugnacity; (3) boasting; (4) sensitivity to narcissistic wounds; (5) frequency of theft; (6) frequency of
personal crime; and (7) frequency of property crime” (Broude 1990:110). She used Barry and Paxton’s (1971) Role of
Father scale as a measure of the closeness of fathers to children. Her results indicate that father-absence is related to
hypermasculinity. Broude then ran Barry, Josephson, Lauer, and Marshall’s (1976) socialization for aggression scale
against her measure of hypermasculinity and found a significant relationship for both early and late childhood.
AT: CONSEQUENTIALISM
Policies are constituted by and produce subjects, not blanket assessments of
outcomes and impacts
Bacchi 16
(Carol, University of Adelaide, Adelaide, South Australia, Australia, (2016): Policies
as Gendering Practices: Re-Viewing Categorical Distinctions, Journal of Women,
Politics & Policy, DOI: 10.1080/1554477X.2016.1198207, JKS)
One important constitutive effect is how we are produced as subjects through the
problematizations implicit in such texts, a process described as “subjectification” (Bacchi
2009, 16–17). For example, Foucault (1980) argues that specific problematizations of sexuality (e.g., sexuality as moral code, sexuality as
biological imperative) create “subject positions” that enjoin people to become particular kinds of sexual subjects (see Howarth and Griggs
2012, 308). Marston and McDonald (2006) describe how individual subjects are produced in specific policy
practices “as worker-citizens in workfare programs, as parent-citizens in child and family services or consumer-citizens in a
managerial and marketized mixed economy of welfare” (3). Given the proliferation of practices, the formation
of one’s subjectivity is an ongoing and always incomplete process: “the doer/subject/person is never
fixed, finally as a girl or a woman or whatever, but always becoming or being” (Jones 1997, 267). Subjectification effects therefore are
neither deter- mined nor predictable. People sometimes take up subject positions in ways that challenge hierarchical relations. For example,
the discourse of rights creates as one possible positioning that of the human rights advocate. Moreover, as practices “through which things
take on meaning and value” (Shapiro 1988, xi), policies have material (lived) effects, shaping the
possibilities for people’s and peoples’ lives (Bacchi 2009, 16–18). Policies achieve these
constitutive effects through discursive practices, which comprise the “conditions of
emergence, insertion and functioning” of discourses (Foucault 1972b, 163), and hence bridge a
material-symbolic distinction (Bacchi and Bonham 2014). A particular conception of power
underpins an understanding of policies as constitutive practices. Power is conceptualized
as productive rather than as simply repressive. Power is not considered to be something people possess (e.g., “he
or she has power”) but as a capacity exercised in the production of subjects and objects (Heller 1996, 83). This productive or
generative view of power does not conclude that power and resistance are necessarily
equal in their effects, however. Such a conclusion would deny the hierarchies by which
the organization of discourse takes effect (see Howarth and Griggs 2012, 310). This understanding of
policy as constitutive of subjects and objects sits in sharp contrast to conventional views
of the policy process, which, in the main, can be characterized as reactive. That is, in general,
policy is considered to be a response to some condition that needs to be
ameliorated or “fixed .” Policies are conceived as “reactions” to “problems.” By contrast, the
understanding of policy offered in this article portrays policies as
constitutive or productive of (what are taken to be) “problems,” “subjects,”
and “objects” (Allan 2010, 14). It follows that it is no longer adequate to think in
terms of conventional policy “outcomes,” understood as the results or
“impacts” of government actions. New questions are required, such as the
following: What does the particular policy, or policy proposal, deem to be an appropriate
target for intervention? What is left out? How does the shape of the proposal affect how
people feel about themselves and the issue? And how does it produce them as
particular kinds of subjects?
AT: MAGNITUDE/FUTURE LIVES
Large-scale threats of future suffering collapses ethics and creates a bodily
paradigm of worthy versus unworthy- the only ethical response is to refuse
that bribery and align yourself with a framing that finally gives credence to
urgent bodies
Olson 15
(Elizabeth, professor of geography and global studies at UNC Chapel Hill,
‘Geography and Ethics I: Waiting and Urgency,’ Progress in Human Geography, vol.
39 no. 4, pp. 517-526)
the body is increasingly set at odds with
Though toileting might be thought of as a special case of bodily urgency, geographic research suggests that
larger scale ethical concerns, especially large-scale future events of forecasted suffering.
Emergency planning is a particularly good example in which the large-scale threats of future suffering can distort moral reasoning. Žižek (2006) lightly develops this point in the context of the war
are bigger scales to worry about:¶ What does this all-pervasive sense of urgency mean
ethically? The pressure of events is so overbearing, the stakes are so high, that they
necessitate a suspension of ordinary ethical concerns. After all, displaying moral qualms
when the lives of millions are at stake plays into the hands of the enemy. (Žižek, 2006)¶ In the
presence of large-scale future emergency, the urgency to secure the state, the citizenry,
the economy, or the climate creates new scales and new temporal orders of response (see
Anderson, 2010; Baldwin, 2012; Dalby, 2013; Morrissey, 2012), many of which treat the urgent body as impulsive and thus
requiring management. McDonald’s (2013) analysis of three interconnected discourses of ‘climate security’ illustrates how bodily urgency in climate change is also
recast as a menacing impulse that might require exclusion from moral reckoning. The logics of climate security, especially those related to national security, ‘can encourage perverse political
currently suffering cannot be urgent, because they are excluded from the
potential collectivity that could be suffering everywhere in some future
time. Similar bypassing of existing bodily urgency is echoed in writing about violent
securitization, such as drone warfare (Shaw and Akhter, 2012), and also in intimate scales like the
street and the school, especially in relation to race (Mitchell, 2009; Young et al., 2014).¶ As large-scale urgent
concerns are institutionalized, the urgent body is increasingly obscured through
technical planning and coordination (Anderson and Adey, 2012). The predominant characteristic of this
institutionalization of large-scale emergency is a ‘built-in bias for action’ (Wuthnow, 2010: 212) that
circumvents contingencies. The urgent body is at best an assumed eventuality, one that
will likely require another state of waiting, such as triage (e.g. Greatbach et al., 2005). Amin (2013) cautions that in much of the West,
governmental need to provide evidence of laissez-faire governing on the one hand, and assurance of strength in facing a threatening future on the other, produces ‘just-in-case preparedness’
the expense of the poor and vulnerable for whom ‘[t]he difference between abjection and
bearable survival’ (Amin, 2013: 153) will not be determined by emergency planning, but in the
material infrastructure of the city.¶ In short, the urgencies of the body provide justifications
for social exclusion of the most marginalized based on impulse and perceived threat,
while large-scale future emergencies effectively absorb the deliberative power of urgency
into the institutions of preparedness and risk avoidance. Žižek references Arendt’s (2006) analysis of the banality of evil to
explain the current state of ethical reasoning under the war on terror, noting that people who perform morally reprehensible actions under the conditions of urgency assume a ‘tragic-ethic
sites for claiming urgency. In the context of the assumed priority of the large-scale future
emergency, the urgent body becomes literally nonsense, a non sequitur within societies, states and worlds
that will always be more urgent.¶ If the important ethical work of urgency has been to
identify that which must not wait, then the capture of the power and persuasiveness of
urgency by large-scale future emergencies has consequences for the kinds of normative
arguments we can raise on behalf of urgent bodies. How, then, might waiting compare as a normative description and critique in our
own urgent time? Waiting can be categorized according to its purpose or outcome (see Corbridge, 2004; Gray, 2011), but it also modifies the place of the
individual in society and her importance. As Ramdas (2012: 834) writes, ‘waiting … produces hierarchies
which segregate people and places into those which matter and those which do not’. The
segregation of waiting might produce effects that counteract suffering, however, and Jeffery (2008: 957) explains that though the ‘politics of waiting’ can be repressive, it can also engender creative
political engagement. In his research with educated unemployed Jat youth who spend days and years waiting for desired employment, Jeffery finds that ‘the temporal suffering and sense of
ambivalence experienced by young men can generate cultural and political experiments that, in turn, have marked social and spatial effects’ (Jeffery, 2010: 186). Though this is
not the same as claiming normative neutrality for waiting, it does suggest that waiting is
more ethically ambivalent and open than urgency.¶ In other contexts, however, our
descriptions of waiting indicate a strong condemnation of its effects upon the subjects of
study. Waiting can demobilize radical reform, depoliticizing ‘the insurrectionary
possibilities of the present by delaying the revolutionary imperative to a future moment
that is forever drifting towards infinity’ (Springer, 2014: 407). Yonucu’s (2011) analysis of the self-destructive activities of disrespected working-class
youth in Istanbul suggests that this sense of infinite waiting can lead not only to depoliticization, but also to a disbelief in the possibility of a future self of any value. Waiting, like urgency,
can undermine the possibility of self-care two-fold, first by making people wait for
essential needs, and again by reinforcing that waiting is ‘[s]omething to be ashamed of
because it may be noted or taken as evidence of indolence or low status, seen as a
symptom of rejection or a signal to exclude’ (Bauman, 2004: 109). This is why Auyero (2012) suggests that waiting creates an ideal state subject,
providing ‘temporal processes in and through which political subordination is produced’ (Auyero, 2012: loc. 90; see also Secor, 2007). Furthermore, Auyero notes, it is not only political
subordination, but the subjective effect of waiting that secures domination, as citizens and non-citizens find themselves ‘waiting hopefully and then frustratedly for others to make decisions, and in
important spatial technology of the elite and powerful, mobilized not only for the
purpose of governing individuals, but also to retain claims over moral urgency. But there is growing
resistance to the capture of claims of urgency by the elite, and it is important to note that even in cases where the material conditions of containment are currently impenetrable, arguments based
on human value are at the forefront of reclaiming urgency for the body. In detention centers, clandestine prisons, state borders and refugee camps, geographers point to ongoing struggles against
the ethical impossibility of bodily urgency and a rejection of states of waiting (see Conlon, 2011; Darling, 2009, 2011; Garmany, 2012; Mountz et al., 2013; Schuster, 2011). Ramakrishnan’s (2014)
analysis of a Delhi resettlement colony and Shewly’s (2013) discussion of the enclave between India and Bangladesh describe people who refuse to give up their own status as legitimately urgent,
even in the context of larger scale politics. Similarly, Tyler’s (2013) account of desperate female detainees stripping off their clothes to expose their humanness and suffering in the Yarl’s Wood
Immigration Removal Centre in the UK suggests that demands for recognition are not just about politics, but also about the acknowledgement of humanness and the irrevocable possibility of being
that which cannot wait. The continued existence of places like Yarl’s Wood and similar institutions in the USA nonetheless points to the challenge of exposing the urgent body as a moral priority
when it is so easily hidden from view, and also reminds us that our research can help to explain the relationships between normative dimensions and the political and social conditions of struggle.¶
In closing, geographic depictions of waiting do seem to evocatively describe otherwise obscured suffering (e.g. Bennett, 2011), but it is striking how rarely these descriptions also use the language of
urgency. Given the discussion above, what might be accomplished – and risked – by incorporating urgency more overtly and deliberately into our discussions of waiting, surplus and abandoned
Urgency can clarify the implicit but understated ethical consequences and
bodies?
normativity associated with waiting, and encourage explicit discussion about harmful
suffering. Waiting can be productive or unproductive for radical praxis, but urgency
compels and requires response. Geographers could be instrumental in reclaiming the ethical work of urgency in ways that leave it open for critique, clarifying
common spatial misunderstandings and representations. There is good reason to be thoughtful in this process, since moral outrage towards inhumanity can itself obscure differentiated
experiences of being human, dividing up ‘those for whom we feel urgent unreasoned concern and those whose lives and deaths simply do not touch us, or do not appear as lives at all’ (Butler, 2009:
the urgent body is rendered as only waiting, both materially and discursively, it is
50). But when
just as easily cast as impulsive, disgusting, animalistic (see also McKittrick, 2006). Feminist theory
insists that the urgent body, whose encounters of violence are ‘usually framed as private,
apolitical and mundane’ (Pain, 2014: 8), are as deeply political, public, and exceptional as other
forms of violence (Phillips, 2008; Pratt, 2005). Insisting that a suffering body, now, is that which cannot wait, has the ethical effect of drawing it into consideration alongside
the political, public and exceptional scope of large-scale futures. It may help us insist on the body, both as a single unit and a plurality, as a legitimate scale of normative priority and social care.¶ In
this report, I have explored old and new reflections on the ethical work of urgency and waiting. Geographic research suggests a contemporary popular bias towards the urgency of large-scale
futures, institutionalized in ways that further obscure and discredit the urgencies of the body. This bias also justifies the production of new waiting places in our material landscape, places like the
detention center and the waiting room. In some cases, waiting is normatively neutral, even providing opportunities for alternative politics. In others, the technologies of waiting serve to manage
potentially problematic bodies, leading to suspended suffering and even to extermination (e.g. Wright, 2013). One of my aims has been to suggest that moral reasoning is important both because it
exposes normative biases against subjugated people, and because it potentially provides routes toward struggle where claims to urgency seem to foreclose the possibilities of alleviation of suffering.
Saving the world still should require a debate about whose world is being saved, when,
and at what cost – and this requires a debate about what really cannot wait. My next report will extend
some of these concerns by reviewing how feelings of urgency, as well as hope, fear, and other emotions, have played a role in geography and ethical reasoning.¶ I conclude, however, by pulling
together past and present. In 1972, Gilbert White asked why geographers were not engaging ‘the truly urgent questions’ (1972: 101) such as racial repression, decaying cities, economic inequality,
and global environmental destruction. His question highlights just how much the discipline has changed, but it is also unnerving in its echoes of our contemporary problems. Since White’s writing,
our moral reasoning has been stretched to consider the future body and the more-than-human, alongside the presently urgent body – topics and concerns that I have not taken up in this review
This analysis highlights the multiple ways in which military gender issues and foreign
policy interact. At the policy level, there is often an explicit link between foreign policy
doctrines, military reforms and gender policies. This concerns the inner-military gender
order as well as the role of global gender equality as a goal in international politics.
Negotiations on gender issues are thus frequently a crucial element in power struggles
between military and political elites over the course of foreign policy. At the discursive
level, foreign policy concepts and debates utilize gendered terminologies and images, as
different groups of political and military actors argue for or against a particular course.
Gender-based inclusions and exclusions in military institutions are thus linked to the
gendering of foreign policy discourses. Consequently, foreign policy debates are to be
read as contributions to gender debates and vice versa. Analysis of the time period
between 1990 and 2011 shows that foreign policy concepts that emphasize
multilateralism, diplomacy, human rights and peacekeeping were tied to the most
comprehensive gender equality and integration measures. Clinton's first term serves as
an example for a time period when recruitment conditions, domestic politics and foreign
policy concepts all favoured integration and equality in the services was significantly
advanced. His second term, which introduced a more risk-averse isolationism, was
characterized by stagnation in military gender matters. Integration was under constant
attack by the Republican majority in Congress, military commanders, think-tanks and
the media. Discourses on the 'feminization' of the armed forces and foreign policy
successfully challenged the administration by associating some of its strategies -
cooperation, compromise and 'soft skills' - with femininity. In the context of this
mounting conservative pressure, the administration largely abandoned gender equality
in the military as a political goal. In the context of the expansionist, unilateral and
threat-based foreign policy of George W. Bush, the far right was able to gain considerable
influence in domestic and international gender matters. At the same time, the military
implementation of Bush's global vision depended on women's military participation and
the integrated military represented an important asset in the war narrative of liberating
Muslim women'. Foreign policy doctrines emphasized the superiority of US values and
the necessity to impose them on other societies, even by preventive military
interventions. In the context of this doctrine, gender equality served as a symbol of the
USA's moral superiority and at the same time women's military participation was
dissociated from equality and civil rights issues. Under these conditions, the favourable
recruitment environment did not translate into more equality for women in the services
and some impediments to women's status were even introduced. But, despite frequent
demands by conservative interest groups, integration was not reversed. Foreign policy
imperatives thus ultimately triumphed over the conservative, anti-feminist agenda in
domestic politics. The Obama administration has redefined the objectives of US foreign
policy. In this context, gender equality was reframed as a security issue in its own right
rather than a justification for the use of military force. The empowerment of women
became a concrete objective, pursued by concrete foreign and domestic measures.
Initiatives since Obama's inauguration suggest that this emphasis on gender equality in
the global context is also paralleled by measures to enhance the rights and status of
women and sexual minorities in the armed forces. New approaches in the peacebuilding
process have also led to a revaluation of female service members in the war zone.
However, trends towards the privatization of military tasks and power gains for the far
right within the Republican Party could countervail these trends towards more equality.
Foreign policy concepts and practice are inherently gendered, make use of gendered
discourses and ideologies, and mirror the gendered assumptions that an administration
holds on the international order, the nation's role within it, sources of conflict, and
acceptable and efficient ways to solve them. As such, foreign policy not only reflects but
also influences gender relations at home and abroad. By defining what US global power
means and how it is to be pursued, it identifies the function of the armed forces and the
role that women are supposed to play within them. While personnel shortages account
for increased female participation in the military, foreign policy rationales and the
relevance of military force within them have made a difference to women's concrete
status and function in the armed forces. While war has generally led to more integration,
women's participation differed according to how a specific intervention was
conceptualized and in what foreign policy concepts it was embedded. Women's status
and gender equality in the armed forces are thus not only an outcome of recruitment
conditions or domestic power relations, but also linked to a nation's position in the
global order and its interpretations of that position. Military gender relations are closely
connected to the gendered notions of national identity constructed in and through
foreign policy. Feminist international relations enables this broader understanding of
military gender integration as interrelated with both the gendered dynamics of global
politics and domestic power relations. It advocates engagement with the connections
between gendered discourses, social power relations, and women's status in national and
international institutions. This study contributes to understanding how women's
equality and gender-specific inclusions and exclusions at the state level are interrelated
with the gendered structures and discourses of international politics. As the analysis
shows, gender-critical inquiry into state institutions helps account for state behaviour in
the global arena. Vice versa, examining the gendered dynamics in international politics
contributes to the understanding of inner-state gender relations. The study also
highlights some of the processes through which both are connected: the
inclusion/exclusion of gender issues in/from foreign policy doctrines, the gendering of
foreign policy discourses, and the instrumentalization of gender equality as a
justification for foreign intervention. Through scrutiny of these different levels of
interaction, comparative research on the relationship between national and international
gender regimes can be conducted beyond the study period and the US case.
AT: PLAN FOCUS
That means framework is a new link- the call for a neutral point of
deliberation is an attempt to androgynize our argument
Hooper 2k
(Charlotte, PhD, ‘Manly States: Masculinities, International Relations and Gender
Politics’ (for which she thanks the Economic and Social Science Research Council
for financial support) and is currently involved in developing and teaching a new
master’s degree in gender and international relations in the Politics Department of
Bristol University. Recent and forthcoming publications include focus on the
relationships among masculinist practices, multiple masculinities and international
relations.Youngs, Gillian. Political Economy, Power & the Body. New York, NY,
USA: Palgrave Macmillan, 2000. ProQuest ebrary., JKS)
The fantasy of disembodiment is another key feature of bourgeois rational masculinity
which derives from the mind/body split and depends on the apparent invisibility or
absence of bodies in social discourse, so that masculine reason could be separate from
and untainted by the body. This apparent invisibility has been assisted by a huge investment
in the general social sanitization of bodies and bodily functions, particularly in public
spaces. There has been a gradual loss of vulgar and feminine orifices and excretions since the 17th century so that the
body becomes a mere container of rationality (Rose 1993). Even sensory perception has been altered. Take, for example,
the sense of smell. Leonard Duroche (1990) argues that with the exception of one or two designatedly ‘masculine’ smells
such as tobacco and sweat, olfactory sensibilities have gradually been increasingly associated with femininity or with
‘degeneration’ since the 18th century. This process has been accompanied by the sanitization of smells from public places,
which has led to an impoverishment of perception conducive to impersonal relations between men. The fantasy of
disembodiment is sustained by large-scale social and institutional practices as much as by discursive conventions.
Bourgeois rational masculinity employs a selective biology both to possess and repress
bodies (Rose 1993). The fantasy of disembodiment is not only produced through powerful
social practices, it also sustains bourgeois masculine privilege and makes bourgeois men
appear natural leaders or rulers. Impersonal relations are associated with objectivity and
science, and the exnominated or unauthored ‘view from nowhere’ of modernity, which
appears as the disembodied ‘truth’ of power and authority.Closely coupled to the
mind/body split and the fantasy of disembodiment is the rational/emotional divide.
Emotions and desires are perceived as threatening to a bourgeois masculine subjectivity
organized around reason and control. Both Kantian thought and Protestant culture posit an inner freedom
from emotionally-driven inclinations as the ideal (Seidler 1987). Just as the body, with its involuntary
processes and frailties, poses a threat to masculinity and pure reason, so too
do emotions and desires. Acting only from reason and duty serves to strengthen the
autonomy of men, otherwise they are in a position of servitude, when reason becomes a
slave to the passions. Therefore, selfcontrol over one’s emotions has come to be one of the hallmarks of
masculinity. Feelings and emotions are seen as both imperilling masculine superiority and
questioning the sources of masculine identity. Because of this, as Victor Seidler (1987: 86– 90) argues,
emotional and dependency needs as well as sexual desires are transformed into issues of performance and control.
With their identity defined in opposition to ‘feminine’ dependency,
emotionality and bodily enslavement, men have become by and large
instrumentalist in thought and goal-oriented in action (Seidler 1989: 12).
Alt
1NC ALT—ETHIC OF CARE
Vote neg for a feminist ethic of care—this means refusing seemingly
progressive solutions that don’t grapple with the violent history of foreign
policy
Robinson ’19 [Fiona, 2-25-2019, Fiona Robinson is Professor of Political Science
specializing in International Relations and Political Theory. She holds am MPhil (1992)
and PhD (1995) from the University of Cambridge, an MA in International Affairs from
the Norman Paterson School of International Affairs (1991) and a BA Honours in
Political Studies and English from Queen’s University (1989), "Feminist foreign policy as
ethical foreign policy? A care ethics perspective," SAGE Journals,
https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/1755088219828768]//ARW
Feminist care ethics and feminist foreign policy In this final section, I want to suggest how an ethic of care might inform a
feminist for- eign policy in ways that allow it to challenge, rather than reinforce, gendered binaries between realism and
idealism, order and justice and masculine and feminine. I suggest that there are three attributes of an ethic of care that
allow it to achieve this: relationality, contextualism and revisability. As seen by Carol Gilligan, one of the first theorists of
‘care’ as a voice of resistance to dominant modes of ethical reasoning, the ethics of care sees people not as
‘standing alone’, but as gaining their selfhood through their relations with others. Self
and other are different but connected rather than separate and opposed (Gilligan, 1993: 147).
Morality, on this view, is about responding to the needs of others in ways that are characterized by attentive listening,
patience and understanding. Universal moral principles of right – so rational, clean and appealing – give way here to the
messy, relentless juggling act of navigating complex moral dilemmas and balancing the competing needs of real, embod-
ied others. This means constant re-evaluation of beliefs and reflexivity regarding our own claims to knowledge. It is a
feminist ethics, not because it ‘belongs’ to women or because it is anti-men or somehow
against the ethics of justice, but because it demands a questioning of the script of
patriarchy. As Gilligan puts it, in the culture of patriarchy, the different voice with its ethic of care sounds feminine.
Heard in its own right and on its own terms, it is a human voice (Gilligan, 2011: 25). Relationality has been a
key feature of the ethics of care since Carol Gilligan’s first edition of In a Different Voice. On this view, all
selves are the product of relations, all the way down. The apparently autonomous self, so
often seen in men and gendered masculine, is a product not of some essential feature of
‘manhood’ but of a response by men to conform to the codes of gender within patriarchy.
Over the past 40 years, research into human psychology has undergone a radical shift towards accepting the interpersonal
and relational nature of human development (Gilligan and Snider, 2017: 191). Recognizing this and accepting
the relational voice not as morally or psychologi- cally immature, but as a human voice
that is thwarted by pervasive gender norms, is the first step towards reaching across
divides of difference hierarchy and building real connection with others. Relationality is
not a static ethical concept or set of principles – like ‘rights’ or ‘jus- tice’ – rather, it is a way of
seeing the world that addresses not only ontology – the relational self – but also
epistemology. Thus, knowledge is also understood relationally – we must ask who makes
the knowledge claims and from what vantage point, what material circumstances and
what degree of power (Minow, 1990: 178). As famously argued by Martha Minow, relationality is perhaps most
significant in the way that it shifts our understanding of the problem of ‘difference’; seeing difference
relationally means a shift from a focus on the distinctions between people to a focus on
the rela- tionships within which we notice and draw distinctions (Minow, 1990: 15). Thus, rela-
tional approaches, unlike, say, dominant liberal rights analysis, enquire into the
institutional practices that determine a norm against which some people seem differ-
ent, or deviant. To address relationships, Minow (1990) argues, is to resist abstraction and to demand context (1990:
216). Clearly, there is a close connection between relationality and context. An ethic of care eschews universalizable moral
principles that can be applied across time and space. By contrast, it demands attention to context – to the particularities of
social location, historical background, structural conditions and relationships between rele- vant moral actors. In this
sense, it is opposed to the logic of traditional moral theory, which demands abstraction from context in order to gain
objectivity. But this objectiv- ity is elusive; more than this, it acts to create a dichotomy between those who are the
knowers, keepers and enforcers of moral principles, and those who are compelled – sometimes through ‘foreign policy’ –
to enact those principles. The morality of ‘arms deals’ cannot be assessed outside of
the context of both the violent histories of coloni- alism and the liberal
militarism that defines the contemporary world. Feminist foreign policy
will not be transformative if it is reduced to enacting a set of moral
principles, or seeking to protect, promote or empower women (often
because this is, in the long run, good for ‘national security’ or ‘economic
growth’ ). A foreign policy that works towards feminist goals is more likely to be a slow,
plodding process which considers historical and contemporary relations between actors
and recognizes the importance of context in making decisions and policies. Finally, revisability
refers to the requirement of epistemological humility – the need to embrace uncertainty and recognize that there are only
better or worse courses of action at any given time and in any context. When ‘Amy’, one of Gilligan’s (1993) subjects,
responds to a question posed regarding an abstract moral dilemma, she says, ‘Well, it depends’ (1993: 35). As Gilligan
explains, when considered in the light of Kohlberg’s definition of the stages and sequence of moral development, her
moral judgements appear to be a full stage lower in maturity than those of the boy. They appear to reveal an inability to
think systematically about the concepts of morality or law and a reluctance to examine the logic of received moral truths
(Gilligan, 1993: 30). But from the perspective of an ethic of care, Amy’s reluctance to make universalized judgements
stems from a heightened perception of the role of context and the nature of relationships in moral judgement. It is this
willingness to live with uncertainty that defines feminist care ethics as critical and will allow it to be, potentially,
transformative in the long term. As Kimberly Hutchings (2001) argues, ‘Critique is premised on the
impossibility of a definitive answer to the conditions of its own possibility and can only
content itself with the acknowledgment of the revisability of any grounds on which its
specific claims are based’ (2001: 90). The implication of this is that we must let go of the idea of feminist foreign
policy as ‘principled foreign policy’. Principles have an unmistakable allure; they work very well when we take what
Raymond Geuss (2008) calls an ‘ethics-first’ approach to politics – where we attain an ideal theory of how we should act,
and then, in a second step, apply that ideal theory to the action of political agents (2008: 8). But the dominance of
this kind of thinking in the realm of ‘ethical foreign policy’ has led to a ‘hyper-rationalist’
(Rengger, 2000: 769) approach to the suffering of the peoples of the world, where ‘useful
knowledge’ has blinded us to contingency, context, embodiment and emotion. Revisability in
ethics is not the same thing as moral relativism. As Susan Hekman points out, the category of ‘relativism’ is parasitic on its
opposite, the possibility of abso- lute knowledge. Perspectival, connected, discursive knowledge does not obviate the pos-
sibility of truth, evidence or critical judgement (Hekman, 1995: 31). It does not mean that states cannot make judgements
in their foreign (and domestic) policy about the allocation of resources towards programmes and policies that aim to
increase the participation and representation of women in, for example, formal peacemaking and peace-building
processes. There is a requirement, however, to view each policy and programme on its own terms and in its own context
and to recognize the ever-changing context of actors- in-relation across multiple, intersecting locations and scales – across
racial, socio-economic and ethnic divides and from the household to the ‘global’ level. Conclusion: Rethinking ethics in
feminist foreign policy I have argued that feminist foreign policy can and indeed should be ‘ethical’ foreign policy, but not
where ethics is understood as a set of fixed, absolute principles based on Western liberal notions of human
rights or ‘justice’. This, I have argued, is damaging for feminism in two ways: first, it reifies the
gendered binaries between ‘real’ and ‘ideal’ in international politics; gendering ‘the
ethical’ in this way means that it will always be played off the masculine, ‘real’ world of self-interest and destined to be
dismissed as ‘soft’ and ‘feminine’. Second, it fails to recognize the way in which this approach to eth-
ics is itself constituted through a patriarchal binary which associates masculinity with
universality and objectivity, silencing alternatives or dismissing them as immature, par-
ticularistic or relativist. On this binary, ‘global justice’ (or ethical feminist foreign policy) is enacted by
a series of powerful, Western states for the benefit of racialized Others; not only is this
narrative partial and inadequate but it also serves to both produce and rein- force
relations of domination. This kind of ethical foreign policy will ultimately harm, rather
than help efforts to achieve global justice by delegitimizing local forms of knowl- edge in
poor areas and undermining the mutual respect necessary for collaboration and
deliberation (Kohn, 2013: 193). A feminist ethic of care does not offer a ‘feminine’ ethic that stands in opposition to
liberal-internationalist principles of justice; the values and practices of care – listening attentively, responding with
patience and openness to the other’s point of view – are not ‘feminine’ and ‘better’ ways of being, but the voice of struggle
against the script of patri- archy. The voice of care is a voice that struggles to be heard within ethico-political cul- tures of
patriarchy, which are constituted and supported by hierarchical and binary logics. The work of a feminist ethic
of care is to reveal and challenge the way that patriarchy serves to institutionalize
hierarchical relations in global politics while dismissing or ridi- culing the capacity for
attentive listening and empathy. As Gilligan and Snider (2017) argue, Because empathy and mutual
understanding impede the division of people into higher and lower, our capacity for
relationship and repair has to be compromised or stunted to set in place or maintain an
order of living that splits humans into the superior and the inferior, the touchables and
the untouchables – whether on the basis of race, gender, class, caste, religion, sexuality,
you name it – an order where some voices are amplified and find resonance, whereas others do
not, as patriarchy privileges the voice of the father. (2017: 174) Care ethics confronts,
disturbs and challenges the binary between ‘relationships’ (gendered feminine) and ‘self’
(gendered masculine) that is created by a patriarchal sys- tem. It seeks not to valorize ‘women’s ways of knowing’ over
men’s, but to resist the gender binary that constructs the system in the first place. As Gilligan
(2011) argues, ‘as long as human qualities are divided into masculine and feminine, we will be alienated from one another
and from ourselves. The aspirations we hold in common, for love and for freedom, will continue to elude us’ (2011: 178).
Despite the everyday meaning of the word ‘care’, care ethics does not prescribe ‘car- ing for’ those who are less fortunate,
or less enlightened, than ‘us’. On the contrary, care ethics describes a form of moral responsiveness
that is curious about context and sees moral dilemmas and difference through the prism
of relationship. It is sceptical of pre- formed, right answers about how to act in cases of
competing moral demands, and instead accepts the inescapability of our mutual
vulnerability – of our bodies, and our ways of knowing. It does not critique Western
patriarchy in favour of other systems of domination, but instead challenges all forms of
hierarchy which divide women from men and work against the possibility of relationship.
It is, finally, a democratic ethic that presumes relational subjects engaged in ongoing participation in civic life as both
givers and receivers of care (Tronto, 2013: 169). As Gilligan and Snider explain, patri- archy is contingent of subverting the
human capacity to repair relationship and thereby on a sacrifice of love. Democracy, however, is contingent upon
relationship: on every- one having a voice that is grounded in their own experience (Gilligan and Snider, 2018: 145, italics
added). Grounding feminist foreign policy in an ethic of care does not preclude, nor is it incompatible with, the so-called
‘three Rs’ of Sweden’s approach to feminist foreign policy. Working towards the achievement of rights, resources and
representation of women can and should be a goal for all policy departments – both domestic and foreign – of all national
governments. Including women in formal and informal peace processes is important, but not
only for the sake of women’s representation, or for the ‘women’s voice’ that they will
bring, but because they can use their voices to speak to the impor- tance of relationships
for bringing about moral and political repair. But feminist foreign policy must not be driven by shaming
and punishing ‘back- ward’ countries while simultaneously seeking to empower their girls and women. While these are
messages with attractive moral simplicity, they fail to reveal the roots of the problem of women’s oppression. Policymakers
must talk about gender in order to reveal how codes of masculinity and femininity maintain economic, social and polit-
ical systems that reinforce men’s material and cultural power over women. They must also have uncomfortable
conversations about patriarchy – at home and abroad – and how it legitimates and enforces ‘selfless femininity, and
detached masculinity’ (Gilligan and Snider, 2017: 192). What I am arguing for here is special attention to the normative
framing and frame- works which guide feminist policy – especially and particularly in the case of foreign policy. The
making and implementing of foreign policy operate within a gendered frame in which masculinity serves to legitimize and
uphold a wide range of behaviours and actions. Simply positioning ‘feminine’/feminist foreign policy in opposition to
these masculinities will fail to accomplish the radical transformation necessary to move towards a world which can no
longer justify the exclusion of women from the formal processes of politics, and which begins to recognize both the
oppressions faced by women – on the basis of gender but also as it intersects with class and race – as well as the value of
the contributions of women to our collective livelihoods across the globe.
1NC ALT—ONTOLOGICAL REVISIONISM
The alternative is to pursue ontological revisionism as a means of disrupting
traditional masculine IR practices and investigating the nature of
masculinity itself
Youngs 4-1-2004, (Gillian Youngs is a Professor of Digital Economy and has been
researching diverse aspects of the internet's impact on society and economy for 15 years
developing out of her early focus on globalization. She has given invited keynote and
guest papers internationally in the US, China, South Korea, Turkey, Hungary, Germany,
Holland, Spain, Austria, Tanzania, and presented over 70 conference and workshop
papers at national and international conferences. "Feminist International Relations: a
contradiction in terms? Or: why women and gender are essential to understanding the
world ‘we’ live in*," Wiley Online Library,
https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1111/j.1468-2346.2004.00367.x //EH)
In exploring why the gulf on these points continues to exist between malestream and feminist International Relations, it is
helpful to think through some of the obstacles to bridging it. I do this in the next section of this article by considering
the problem of the ontological revisionism required of malestream analysis if it
is to share the same ground as feminist perspectives that count women and gender as
fundamental to understanding international relations. In arguing that women and gender are
essential to the field of International Relations, feminist scholars have had to address the core
concepts and issues of the field: war, militarism and security; sovereignty and the state;
and globalization. In the remainder of the article, I discuss how feminist work has followed this trajectory,
illustrating how an emphasis on gender has generated an increasing focus on masculinity and its multidimensionality and
complexity; on the diversity of women’s lives, identities and strategies; and on the power differentiations among women,
as well as between them and men, and among men. Ontological revisionism This discussion will demonstrate,
in the ways outlined above, the depth and range of feminist perspectives on power—a
prime concern of International Relations and indeed of the whole study of politics . It will
illustrate the varied ways in which scholars using these perspectives study power in relation to gender, a nexus largely
disregarded in mainstream approaches. From feminist positions, this lacuna marks out mainstream
analyses as trapped in a narrow and superficial ontological and epistemological
framework. A major part of the problem is the way in which the mainstream takes the appearance of a predominantly
male-constructed reality as a given, and thus as the beginning and end of investigation and knowledge-building .
Feminism requires an ontological revisionism: a recognition that it is
necessary to go behind the appearance and examine how differentiated and
gendered power constructs the social relations that form that reality. While it
may be empirically accurate to observe that historically and contemporaneously men have dominated the realms of
international politics and economics, feminists argue that a full understanding of the nature of
those realms must include understanding the intricate patterns of (gendered)
inequalities that shape them. Mainstream International Relations, in accepting that because these realms
appear to be predominantly man-made, there is no reason to ask how or why that is the case, stop short of taking account
of gender. As long as those who adhere to this position continue to accept the sufficiency of
the appearances and probe no further, then the ontological and epistemological
limitations will continue to be reproduced. Early work in feminist International Relations in the 1980s had
to address this problem directly by peeling back the masculinist surface of world politics
to reveal its more complex gendered (and racialized) dynamics . Key scholars such
as Cynthia Enloe focused on core International Relations issues of war, militarism and security, highlighting the
dependence of these concepts on gender structures—e.g. dominant forms of the masculine (warrior) subject as
protector/conqueror/exploiter of the feminine/feminized object/other—and thus the fundamental importance of
subjecting them to gender analysis. In a series of works, including the early Bananas, beaches and bases: making feminist
sense of international politics (1989), Enloe has addressed different aspects of the most overtly
masculine realms of international relations, conflict and defence, to reveal their deeper
gendered realities.3 This body of work has launched a powerful critique of the taboo that made
women and gender most invisible, in theory and practice, where masculinity had its most
extreme, defining (and violent) expression. Enloe’s research has provided one of the most comprehensive
bodies of evidence for the ontological revisionism required of mainstream International
Relations, especially in relation to its core concerns. When Enloe claimed that ‘gender makes the world go
round’,4 she was in fact turning the abstract logic of malestream International Relations inside out. This abstract logic
saw little need to take theoretical and analytical account of gender as a social force because in practical terms only one
gender, the male, appeared to define International Relations. Ann Tickner has recently offered the reminder that this
situation persists: ‘During the 1990s, women were admitted to most combat positions in the U.S. military, and the U.S.
president appointed the first female secretary of state, but occupations in foreign and military policymaking in most states
remain overwhelmingly male, and usually elite male.’5 Nearly a decade earlier, in her groundbreaking work Gender in
International Relations: feminist perspectives on achieving global security, 6 she had asked the kinds of questions that
were foundational to early feminist International Relations: ‘Why is the subject matter of my discipline so
distant from women’s lived experiences? Why have women been conspicuous only by
their absence in the worlds of diplomacy and military and foreign policy-making?’ Tickner,
like Enloe, has interrogated core issues in mainstream International Relations, such as security and peace, providing
feminist bases for gendered understanding of issues that have defined it. Her reflection on what has happened since
Gender in International Relations was published indicates the prominence of tensions between theory and practice. ‘ We
may have provided some answers to my questions as to why IR and foreign policymaking
remain male-dominated; but breaking down the unequal gender hierarchies that
perpetuate these androcentric biases remains a challenge.’7 The persistence of the
overriding maleness of international relations in practice is part of the reason for the
continued resistance and lack of responsiveness to the analytical relevance feminist
International Relations claims. In other words, it is to some extent not surprising that feminist International
Relations stands largely outside mainstream International Relations, because the concerns of the former, gender and
women, continue to appear to be subsidiary to high politics and diplomacy. One has only to recall the limited
attention to gender and women in the recent Afghanistan and Iraq crises to illustrate this
point.8 So how have feminists tackled this problem? Necessarily, but problematically, by calling for a deeper level of
ontological revisionism. I say problematically because, bearing in mind the limited success of the first kind discussed
above, it can be anticipated that this deeper kind is likely to be even more challenging for those in the mainstream camp.
The second level of ontological revisionism required relates to critical understanding of why
the appearance of international relations as predominantly a sphere of male influence
and action continues to seem unproblematic from mainstream perspectives. This
entails investigating masculinity itself : the nature of its subject position—
including as reflected in the collective realm of politics— and the frameworks and
hierarchies that structure its social relations, not only in relation to women
but also in relation to men configured as (feminized) ‘others’ because of racial,
colonial and other factors, including sexuality. Marysia Zalewski and Jane Parpart directly captured such
an approach as ‘the “man” question in international relations’.9 I would like to suggest that for those sceptical about
feminist International Relations, Zalewski’s introductory chapter, ‘From the “woman” question to the “man” question in
International Relations’, offers an impressively transparent way in to its substantive terrain.10 Reflecting critically on the
editors’ learning process in preparing the volume and working with its contributors, both men and women, Zalewski
discusses the various modifications through which the title of the work had moved. These included at different stages the
terms ‘women’, ‘masculinity’ and ‘feminism’, finally ending with ‘the “man” question’—signalling once again, I suggest,
tensions between theory and practice, the difficulty of escaping the concrete dominance of the male subject position in the
realm of international relations. The project’s starting point revealed a faith in the modernist commitment to the political
importance of bringing women into the position of subjecthood. We implicitly accepted that women’s subjecthood could
be exposed and revealed in the study and practice of international relations, hoping that this would also reveal the nature
of male dominance and power. Posing the ‘man’ question instead reflects our diminishing belief that the exclusion of
women can be remedied by converting them into subjects.11 Adding women appeared to have failed to ‘destabilize’ the
field; so perhaps critically addressing its prime subject ‘man’ head-on could help to do so. ‘This leads us to ask questions
about the roles of masculinity in the conduct of international relations and to question the accepted naturalness of the
abundance of men in the theory and practice of international relations’ (emphasis added).12 The deeper level of
ontological revisionism called for by feminist International Relations in this regard is as follows.
Not only does it press beyond the appearance of international relations as a predominantly
masculine terrain by including women in its analysis, it goes further to question the
predominant masculinity itself and the accepted naturalness of its power and influence
in collective (most significantly state) and individual forms.
1NC ALT—SPECTRALITY
The alt is to dwell on the gendered ghosts left behind by militarized
masculinity—centering debate around solving impacts merely assuages the
guilt of militarized masculinity
Tidy 14 (Joanna Tidy. Joanna Tidy is a lecturer in politics in the Department of Politics,
University of Sheffield (UK). They’re also an Associate Fellow at the Sheffield Political Economy
Research Institute. “Gender, Dissenting Subjectivity and the Contemporary Military Peace
Movement in Body of War.” p. 455-461 International Feminist Journal of Politics.
https://doi.org/10.1080/14616742.2014.967128) rr
Body of War is a text of the military peace movement. It portrays men and women, soldiers and families,
within the movement to convey an antiwar message centering on the purported “true face” (Body of War
website 2014) of the Iraq War, made visible in the lives and experiences of military families. As a text it is significant as
one moment and one articulation of the play of an ongoing array of social practices that
produce, reproduce and constitute power relations, subjects and social formations.
Accounts of how dissent can and should be undertaken, by whom and in what
contexts are rehearsed and defined, and subjects are interpellated into particular subject positions
that define their gendered, and dissenting, subjecthood. The analytical reading of the film for the
discussion in this article involved a process of negotiation between a range of texts (the film, associated media interviews
and existing scholarship) in a discourse analysis guided by problematization (Howarth 2000, 140). This process of
problematization involved a dialogue between existing interpretations, the Body of War texts,
theoretical concepts and the “intuitions and hunches” (Howarth 2000, 140) of myself as a socially situated researcher. Out
of this analytical dialogue, themes, relations and interventions were “read” within the film.3 Drawing on Butler’s (1990,
1993, 1997a, 1997b) conceptualizations of gender, subjectivity formation and contestation, accounts of military
masculinity (see, for example, Belkin 2012) and Derrida’s notion of the disruptive productivity of the spectral “present
absence” (Vatter 2005, 13), I argue that conceptualizing the military peace movement as a counter-
performative reiteration of military masculinity reveals the productive duality in which
military authority is simultaneously the target of and means to dissent. However, while this
duality has the potential to be subversive, the dominant social order is perpetuated within the
US military peace movement (see Cockburn 2004, 2012). I argue that within Body of War and the
military peace movement, women’s dissenting subjecthood is produced out of relational
invocations of military masculinity, within which particular haunting specters that populate
and produce military dissent are invoked and exorcized to reinstate gendered
relations of power. This account is important in addressing a silence concerning the political authority on
which the military peace movement in the United States is predicated. We know that, for example, “turning
conscientious objectors . . . into heroes of the antimilitarism movement could unwittingly
perpetuate exactly the sort of masculinized privilege that nurtures militarism”
(Cockburn and Enloe 2012, 553). In this article I demonstrate how the authority derived through this masculinized
privilege is not an unwitting addition to, but constitutes the military peace movement; the movement is
existent and functional through the practice of this privilege even as it targets militarism. It is
through an analytical focus on this productive duality that we can move beyond characterizations of the US military peace
movement as an uncomplicated site of opposition (see Achter 2010, 47; Cortright 2010; Gutmann and Lutz 2010; Leitz
2011). We know that dissent is not straightforward, simple or consistent (Foucault [1976] 2005, 88), but by turning
our attention to the specifics of productive tensions and inconsistencies within formations such as
the military peace movement we can better understand the moments and sites in which
contestation reinforces that which it seeks to disrupt. Establishing a novel conceptualization of the
military peace movement as a gendered premise in the first part of the article enables the second part, which
discusses the relations in the movement between the dissenting subjecthood of women as wives and
mothers and men as returning soldiers, both constituted as dissenting subjects by
military masculinity (see, for example, Belkin 2012, 3). Previous scholarship on women in the military peace
movement (Slattery and Garner 2007; Knudson 2009; Managhan 2011) highlights the significance of
discourses of motherhood and maternal activism, however without a conceptualization of the
military peace movement as itself an overarching gendered premise, this research can only go
so far in aiding our understanding of how dissenting subjecthood founded on motherhood and care
functions within the movement’s immanent hierarchies. To address this lacuna I argue that women
in Body of War are represented as enablers of a masculine military perspective
simultaneously imperiled and amplified by injury, as they facilitate the communication of the
authoritative military experience of the injured returning veteran. The dissenting capacity this accords is
limited, achieved through a partial, associative and unstable claim to military masculinity. In their
caring roles, women within the movement are represented as ultimately stymieing acceptable modes
of masculinity and most significantly impeding the realization of a privileged, powerful
hypermasculine dissenting veteran subjectivity, which is represented as more valuable to the
movement and less unsettling to society as a whole. In this section I argue for the conceptualization of the military peace
movement as a gendered premise; a counter-performative (subversive) (Chambers and Carver 2008, 172–177; Jagger
2008, 3; Medina 2013, 236) reiteration of military masculinity, drawing on Butler’s (1990, 1993, 1997a, 1997b) account of
gender, subjectivity formation and contestation. The counter-performative potential of reiterations of
military masculinity is grounded in the disruptive productivity of the “present absence”
(Vatter 2005, 13), illuminated by Derrida’s ([1993] 2006) notion of spectrality. I then discuss how claims to
dissenting subjecthood are made through the function of particular reiterations in particular ways. Performativity
describes “the influential rituals” through which “subjects are called into social being,”
“formed and reformulated” (Butler 1997a, 160) in a “reiteration of norms which precede,
constrain and exceed the performer” (Butler 1993, 24). Performativity is therefore both crucial to
the formation of the subject and its “ongoing political contestation and reformulation”
(Butler 1997a, 160), since “[n]o social formation can endure without being reinstated” and this process of reinstatement
reveals the contingency of the formation, putting it at risk (Butler 1997b, 14; see also Salih 2002, 11 and Mahmood 2004,
162). The authority of the US military peace movement rests upon a military
masculine authenticity of experience expressed in the trope of the “boots on the ground”
perspective (Christensen 2008; Anden-Popadopoulos 2009; Kennedy 2009) and the associated access to “ground
truth” (Leitz 2011, 249), along with the mantra “support the troops – oppose the war” (Beamish,
Molotch, and Flacks 1995; Coy, Woehrle, and Maney 2008; Managhan 2011, 441). The phrase “ground truth” expresses “a
belief that the firsthand knowledge of military individuals is the real truth” (Leitz 2011, 249). In military slang, “ground
truth” describes the on-the-ground and in-the-field reality, which is contrasted with the intelligence-driven predictions of
“senior leaders” who are “far removed” from the battlefield (Bishop 2009, xxiv; Linden 2010, n.p.). Within the military
peace movement, ground truth is represented as having a public “educational value,” and appears “on numerous VFP
[Veterans For Peace], IVAW, and MFSO documents” (Leitz 2011, 249). This significance of ground truth within
the movement illustrates how dissent is constituted by counter-performative reiterations of
dominant military masculinity (the authority of the “boots on the ground” perspective of the combat veteran)
that, when cited within other contexts (Salih 2002, 92), operate as the “tools” for subversion (Butler 1990,
145). For example, rather than telling a ground truth of heroism in battle (cf. Tommy Reiman;4 see Achter 2010, 51; also
Ac¸ıkso¨z 2012; Serlin 2003, 161) in Body of War, Tomas performs, through the context of bodily injury, a ground
truth haunted by the “present absence” (Vatter 2005, 13) of a military masculinized body lost to
a pointless war in which the injury was not acquired during “derring-do” but while he sat in the back of a poorly
armored truck. Through such spectrally reformulated citations, military masculinity is the resource of and
the target for disruption (a similar point is made by Hockey 2002, 153). As a text of the military peace movement,
Body of War relies on the authority and privilege of the ground truth, military perspective and hard-to-
impugn patriotism of its subjects in its political project of revealing the “true face of war today” (PBS 2008; Body of War
website 2014). Throughout Body of War, Tomas and his family are represented as being in possession of various
permutations of ground truth. These accounts operate as invocations of military masculinity;
“a set of beliefs, practices and attributes that can enable individuals – men and women – to claim
authority on the basis of affirmative relationships with the military or with military ideas” (Belkin
2012, 3; see also Enloe 1993; Higate 2003). This authority is then mobilized in dissent. Military
masculinity underpins and produces the authority that legitimizes war (when
invoked, for example, by wartime politicians (Belkin 2012, 2)) but it also produces the authority underpinning the military
peace movement. Military masculinity is in that sense turned back on itself; it is
simultaneously what is being contested – the privileging of the military and its practices – and the means to
do so. The authority produced by this privilege enables those within the movement to dissent against military logics and
practices. However, I will argue, there are contradictions and tensions within this productive duality; military
masculinity produces dissent but also reproduces hierarchies of experience, truth
claim and dissenting subjecthood along gendered lines. As I have suggested above but
will now explore in detail, the ground truths constituting the authority of the military peace movement are populated with
specters; specters that produce the counter-performative potential within reiterations of military masculinity. Spectrality
(Derrida [1993] 2006) concerns the effects of “present absence” (Vatter 2005, 13) in which the present presence is
haunted and disrupted by that which is absent; that which has been excluded is missing or is
apparently passed (see, for example, Kenway et al. 2006, 5).5 In Body of War, Tomas’s ground truths are of the experience
of arriving in Iraq and seeing only “women and children running away,” never firing a shot and then being paralyzed by a
sniper’s bullet while riding in a poorly armored vehicle. These are truths defined by present absences:
absent enemies, combat, protection and able-bodiedness. His daily experience after coming
home, of being paralyzed, losing his dignity, autonomy and masculinity, shifts this ground
truth to the domestic setting. His present is haunted by the specter of deployment. Therefore,
depicting Tomas’s firsthand experience of the war’s realties after deployment, Body of War widens the scope of soldiers’
“in the field reality” to include post-deployment and post-military lives (demonstrating that the legacy of deployment and
military service for soldiers and their families and communities is long lasting and far reaching). These specters
therefore disjointlogics of presence, absence, past and present to disrupt the self-sufficiency
of the present. Ghosts can be used to “create doubt where there is certainty” (Kenway et al. 2006, 5) by de-reifying
existing “present” forms and structures (Vatter 2005, 13). Ontological logics of presence, existence and temporality are
disrupted (Wolfreys 1998, 30); existence can no longer simply be understood as presence.
Specters, such as that of Tomas’s military masculinity, are simultaneously absent and present
(indeed, made present through the form of their absence) such that “the ghost is but does not exist” (Kenway et al. 2006,
4). These ontological disruptions underlie the “de-realizing” effects of ghosts on the “present
presence” (the “given forms of domination” (Vatter 2005, 13)) in hinting at the fragility of that present, including the
dominant social order. This present is not, as James (1995, 76) puts it, “as self-sufficient as it claims to be.” The war in
Iraq is a haunting event (Redfield 2009) reiterated through haunted lives and bodies such as
those represented in Body of War. Opposition to this war is populated by ghosts and produced out of
the reiteration of these specters haunting “present” lives and subjectivities . Dissent is performed
and negotiated through this haunting and these ghosts are gendered. Tomas, for example, “exists” as
the present absence of a masculinity destroyed by battlefield injury. Cathy “exists” in permutations of
motherly fear and grief, haunted by the simultaneous past, present and future of her sons’ fate (Slattery and
Garner 2007; Managhan 2011, 442). Body of War invokes specters to break down the comfortable self-sufficiency of the
present. Violence, it demonstrates, cannot be contained “over there” in faraway conflict theaters or in the
past. Yet it also attempts to exorcize these same specters through realization (the specter of lost masculinity is “realized” in
the figure of the hypermasculine dissenting “powerful leader” (Body of War website 2013) that Tomas becomes) and in so
doing so nullifies their disruptive productive effect (Vatter 2005, 15).6 Furthermore, it is in this process of
realization – reinstating rather than rupturing from the prevailing order – that gendered
hierarchies within the military peace movement become particularly visible, as I explore in the next two
sections of this article. In summation, the political contestation produced by the military peace movement arises out of
counter-performative reiterations of military masculinity. The reformulation producing the disruptive shift
in that reiteration is achieved through present absences such as the military masculinity of paralyzed
Tomas in Body of War. The military peace movement is therefore constituted by a range of potentially disruptive
reiterations, remade or restaged in ways that have the potential to reveal the frailty of targeted social formations. Claims to
dissenting subjecthood are made through the function of particular reiterations in particular ways that unfold in the
“fissures of a never-fullyconstituted self” (Lovell 2003, 2) during the “on-going political contestation and reformulation” of
the subject (Butler 1997a, 160). I will now turn attention to the way in which dissenting subjecthood is constituted out of
these reiterations. The military experience, and therefore military masculinity-invoking ground truths of present
absence explored within Body of War, interpellate Tomas into dissenting subjectivity. Asked if he would
have spoken out against the war had he not been injured, Tomas says, “I had friends who died, unnecessarily, in this war
so I would still speak out although I probably wouldn’t have as firm a leg to stand on – or chair to sit in.” He also notes
that his brother is currently deployed in Iraq. Tomas’s dissenting subjecthood is grounded, therefore, in his experiences of
losing comrades, the potential loss of his brother and losing his pre-deployment body. It is this loss, a present
absence, which provides him with a right to speak in dissent, a leg to stand upon or, as he ruefully notes,
a chair in which to sit. As an injured veteran, Tomas’s patriotism and combat experience (military ideals and experiences)
are seen as being starkly and visibly evidenced by his broken body (Serlin 2003, 161; Achter 2010, 47) and its corollary:
the now only spectral echo of his former self. For Tomas’s family, the authenticity of “military” experience and associated
authority-conferring military masculinity is founded in another form of reiteration-
reformulating haunting: the ordeal of having a family member away serving overseas and the constant possibility
of loss (explored in the film through the deployment of Tomas’s younger brother Nathan, a present manifestation of the
younger, idealistic, physically untarnished Tomas who also shipped to Iraq and never came home). With Tomas returned,
the experience of the family intersects with that of “their” returned soldier. Where Tomas’s domestic ground truth centers
on being cared for, with its associated loss of autonomy and dignity, Cathy and Brie’s ground truth becomes that of caring
for a paralyzed son and husband. This care becomes a vivid rehearsal and exposure of what is absent – the
Tomas who never returned. Cathy and Brie, in their act of care, perform a disruptive reiteration of military masculinity:
their ground truth reproduces the association of authority with military identity and ideals
(it constitutes them as subjects with an experience and perspective that is valued within the prevailing social order), but
in caring for Tomas they highlight the present absence of his bodily strength, autonomy and
dignity – an absence that poses, as Achter puts it, “a problem to the smooth narrative of war” (2010, 47). In Body of
War, representations of the lives of the family are juxtaposed with footage from the Senate debate and vote on the Iraq
War. The “on the ground” reality of those involved in the waging of the war (whether that “on the ground” is
the battlefield or the hospital bed) is
contrasted with the disconnected and unrealistic
pronouncements of “senior leaders” “far removed” from the battlefield (Linden 2010, n.p.) who are actively
distanced from military experiences and ideals. In doing so, the documentary reproduces the
authority of military masculinity to question their legitimacy. Cathy states, “[the leaders] are so
insulated . . . they don’t want to know about people like Tomas.” In one example of the documentary’s many
juxtapositions, Brie discusses Tomas’s fears about experiencing incontinence on their forthcoming wedding day, a scene
that is intercut with footage from the Senate debate. In another, Tomas lists his many medications like a litany and holds
up each bottle of pills to the camera. This footage is intercut with the vote result from the Senate debate, with each
medication followed by the name of a senator who voted “yes” to the invasion of Iraq. In his discussion of photographs of
disabled veterans of the American Civil War, Serlin (2003, 161) argues that “[b]y being no longer whole, those
veterans whose bodies manifested physical damage . . . were men for whom disability
suggested a certain level of incompetence.” Disability, as Serlin observes, is emasculating and
lost masculinity can be “recuperated” through photography such as that from the Civil War,
which demonstrated the military context of the injury by depicting disabled former soldiers
in uniform and wearing medals and therefore distinguished their injuries from congenital deformity (Serlin
2003, 161–162). In Body of War, Tomas’s body as a physical manifestation of incompetence is not – in the scenes
described above – “fixed” (cf. Achter’s (2010) discussion of the “domestication” of disabled veterans). Instead, the locus
of incompetence is the civilian leadership who, insulated from the realities and truths known by
military individuals, sent soldiers into misadventurous battle in insufficiently armored
vehicles. The representation of Tomas’s disability, a partial rupture in the reiteration of military masculinity, remains
partial by simultaneously reinstating a hierarchy that reinforces civilian incompetence and preserves the impunity of
soldiers from responsibility, a permutation of the “support the troops – oppose the war” discourse within the military
peace movement (Beamish, Molotch, and Flacks 1995).
2NC ALT
The K solves the aff – representation of women in policymaking allows for
the stabilization of agreements between powers – absence allows for the
return of violent groups
Hurlburt 17 – degree from Brown University, director of New Models of Policy Change and
former runner of National Security Network, held senior positions in the White House (Heather
Hurlburt, “Arms Control Needs the Modernizing Lens that Gender Offers,” December 2017, Arms
Control Association, https://www.armscontrol.org/act/2017-12/features/arms-control-needs-
modernizing-lens-gender-offers)//cpark
Diversity theory indicates that broadening the perspectives of
‘Gender Lens’
those who make policy produces better outcomes. The other side of that
coin is the concept of a “gender lens,” that is, the idea that policy analysis
that considers the different experiences of different genders can produce
such better policy outcomes. The concept has gained traction in academic circles
and in peacekeeping and conflict resolution training in the UN and NATO and some
other regional security bodies, but it is little known in U.S. policymaking and not applied
at all in the arms control space. Socially constructed norms and patterns ensure that
people of different genders have different experiences. This commonplace observation
has important consequences for security policy. For example, violent extremist groups exploit gender
norms to recruit women, deploy women in contexts and societies where women are not expected to be agents of violence,
and heighten feelings of victimization and vulnerability among their targets.12 Similarly, counterterrorism analysts have
documented important patterns and moments where women’s roles in traditional, as well as Western, societies can be key
in detecting or preventing radicalization. Slowly, policymakers are starting to take notice.13 In conflict resolution and
peacekeeping, analysis has documented that the inclusion
of women makes peace agreements
more durable, while failing to take differently gendered needs into account
in postconflict stabilization can contribute to the re-emergence of violent
groups. UN Women has found that peace processes that include women are 20 percent
more likely to last at least two years and 35 percent more likely to last 15 years.14 Yet, new
research found that women have made up just 8 percent of peace negotiators over the past 27 years.15 The UN Women,
Peace and Security framework, constructed through seven UN Security Council resolutions, now provides guidelines for
training on and planning and evaluation of peacekeeping and conflict resolution work. NATO and other regional
organizations have followed suit, as have military and civilian planners from a number of key U.S. allies. Just this fall, U.S.
President Donald Trump signed into law the bipartisan Women, Peace and Security Act of 2017, which directs but does
not require U.S. security policymakers to incorporate these best practices into U.S. government work. Congress did not
appropriate any new resources for this task, however, and positions focusing on gender stand empty at the National
Security Council, State Department, and USAID. Moreover, hard data indicates howgendered dynamics
contribute to conflict. Measures of violence against women have emerged as
some of the best predictors for outbreaks of violence within and between
states.16 Scholars are doing important new work on a variety of indicators, not all associated with women.
Societies in which young men are less able to attain the symbols of successful adult
masculinity, such as marriage, employment, and community status, may be more
vulnerable to violence.17 Students and practitioners of arms control and
security disciplines need to catch up to the research on causes of conflict.
Although the indicators connecting gender violence to risk of broader societal conflict are robust, surveys by New America
have found that work to be almost unknown among national security elites.18 Professionals in and out of government owe
Although “gender” is often associated with
it to themselves to become familiar with the findings.
feminist or other politically progressive worldviews, the observation that
violence against women and societal violence are closely linked also
dovetails comfortably with ideologically conservative frameworks that see
protecting the vulnerable and traditional family structures as a key goal of
security policy . The observations themselves are ideologically neutral. Recommendations The following are
seven recommendations for action. Not every actor in the field—government agencies, think tanks, advocacy groups,
international actors, and scholars—can take up every recommendation. All can do at least one, becoming more effective
policymakers as a result. Make the gender lens a standard tool of analysis. As Fletcher School scholar Meg Guliford wrote
recently, security “is contextual. There exists no blanket definition to encapsulate how all human beings experience
security.” This observation is the foundation of gender analysis, the practice of considering how policies or events affect
different genders differently. Gender analysis yields important insights in counterterrorism and countering violent
extremism thought, whether predicting the movements of extremist groups from the flows of female recruits or learning
about ISIS’ internal cohesion from its practice of systemic rape against women and men. Yet, it is not broadly known,
used, or taught in the international security field. Widen the research lens. The time is ripe for an imaginative research
agenda where such dynamics might be at play in the use and control of weapons. For example, little is known about how
such dynamics might play out in the demand for, use of, and success or failure in controlling small arms, but that is more
than what is known about what measures of societal insecurity are most likely to drive governments to acquire more
disruptive weapons systems or become more aggressive in their use. Does the insecurity of women and other vulnerable
populations have a bearing on nations’ or groups’ willingness to lay down arms or forbear particular capabilities or
systems? New insights are likely waiting for researchers who widen the lens to perceive
women as negotiators and combatants and men as victims of sexual violence, as well as
perpetrators. The literature on women’s participation in peace negotiations
and their implementation would likely be enriched and challenged by
consideration of women in arms control negotiations, from the Iran nuclear
deal to the negotiations leading to the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear
Weapons. Quantify the problem. Every source interviewed for this article cited the scarcity of comprehensive
studies and strong data to document the challenge of gender inclusion in security policymaking, let alone test the
outcomes of different responses. Organizational leadership at universities, think tanks, journals, and conferences often
cites the lack of data as a barrier to galvanizing response. Unlike many of the other identified problems, this one is easily
solved by the application of resources and research skill. Address hiring and talent management issues. Several excellent
sets of recommendations exist for institutions to access. CNAS highlights the need to frame policies in terms of
effectiveness and build data sets to document it, get out of a zero-sum framework by setting family-friendly policies for
employees of all genders, and rethink mentorship.19 Public and private national security institutions have much to learn
from the very public struggles of the cybersecurity field, where extreme gender imbalances and problematic working
conditions for women have spilled into the media. New America proposed five steps for workplaces that are extremely
relevant to arms control and security: remove gendered code words from job descriptions and learn what they are,
institute policies that allow female and male employees to combine job and caregiving responsibilities and make sure the
policies are visibly used by senior staff, hire women at senior levels to help attract and retain junior and mid-level
personnel, set targets around office diversity and measure leaders against them, and build talent pipelines through
internships and fellowships.20 The “#metoo” surge of women speaking out about workplace sexual harassment and
assault in the wake of disclosures about movie producer Harvey Weinstein has shone a spotlight on the painful conditions
that remain all too frequent in the security policy environment. Employers and managers must have proactive policies and
model leadership for male and female employees.21 #Nomanels. Institutions and program directors can institute policies
to prevent all-male panels and direct event planners to any of several resources to help expand their awareness of diverse
sources of expertise. Funders can bar their funds going to all-male programming. Individual scholars and leaders can ask
organizers about event diversity and decline to participate when they are not. Some existing projects include
Manpanels.org, Gender Avenger, and the UN Global Compact Panel Pledge, a global effort to end all-male panels. George
Washington University’s Elliott School of International Affairs has become the most high-profile institution to enact such
a policy under its dean, Reuben Brigety. Owen Barder, vice president of the Center for Global Development, has attracted
more than 1,300 signatories for a pledge stating, “At a public conference I won’t serve on a panel of two people or more
Institutions
unless there is at least one woman on the panel, not including the chair.”22 Improve media visibility.
and leaders who say they want more women in the field must back this up
by making sure female scholars and professionals are equally featured in
syllabuses and promoted as institutional representatives in media,
publication, and speaking opportunities. Individuals and institutions can facilitate this
with explicit policies and commitments to offer media opportunities, speaking
engagements, and co-authorship to younger colleagues and through willingness to vouch
for those colleagues in the informal networks through which most such invitations move.
2NC UNIQUENESS
Feminist advocacy is gaining force across the globe—what’s necessary is
academic reframing of arms control around non-masculine perspectives
Acheson ’18 [Ray, 4-30-2018, Ray Acheson is the Director of Reaching Critical Will, the
disarmament program of the Women's International League for Peace and Freedom,
"The nuclear ban and the patriarchy: a feminist analysis of opposition to prohibiting
nuclear weapons," Taylor & Francis,
https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/21624887.2018.1468127]//ARW
2018, for some reason, was a turning point for international diplomatic recognition of gender
dimensions of weapons and disarmament policy. After years or even decades—or in WILPF’s case, a
century—of feminist advocacy for governments and activists to take gender into account in
their work, we seem to breaking new ground. In March, the Permanent Mission of Canada to the United
Nations in Geneva collaborated with WILPF, Small Arms Survey, and the Gender Mine Action Programme on a one-day
training for disarmament diplomats about including gender perspectives in their work. In April, WILPF coordinated with
the Canadian mission in New York on a meeting that brought together the women, peace and security (WPS) and
disarmament diplomatic communities to exchange on the same subject. In May, UN Secretary-General António Guterres
launched his new disarmament agenda, Securing our Common Future. It includes a section on “Ensuring the equal, full,
and effective participation of women,” and there are several references throughout the document to
the gendered impacts of weapons, gender-sensitive arms control, or women’s
participation in disarmament, including urging states to incorporate gender perspectives
in their national legislation and policies on disarmament and arms control. In June, the Third
Review Conference to the UN Programme of Action on small arms and light weapons (UNPoA) adopted a report with
groundbreaking references to armed gender-based violence, the gendered impacts of small arms, and women’s
participation in disarmament. The document builds on gains made in 2012 and 2016 to alleviate the overall gender
blindness of the UNPoA. The International Action Network on Small Arms (IANSA) Women’s Network coordinated input
and advocacy amongst civil society groups and diplomats for the inclusion of these elements in the outcome document,
including through the civil society Call to Action on gender and small arms control. In August, the Convention on Certain
Conventional Weapons (CCW) considered gender issues for the first time, in a side event hosted by the government of
Canada, International Committee for Robot Arms Control (ICRAC), Mines Action Canada, Project Ploughshares, and
WILPF on the relationship between gender and fully autonomous weapons. Participants addressed gender diversity and
equality in disarmament negotiations and discussions; gender norms in relation to the development and use of weapons,
gendered impacts of existing weapon systems; and the importance of feminist foreign policy approaches in relation to
disarmament and arms control. In October, the Canadian mission to the UN organized a push to increase
gender references in resolutions at the UN General Assembly First Committee on
Disarmament and International Security. Working with other governments and civil
society groups, they managed to achieve language in 17 resolutions that advocates for
women’s equal participation, recognizes gendered impacts of weapons, or urges
consideration of gender perspectives more broadly. This accounts for 25 percent of all First Committee
resolutions in 2018. Six of these resolutions included gendered language for the first time, while
three improved the gendered language. For comparison, in 2017, 15 per cent of resolutions made gender
references. This figure was 13 per cent in 2016 and 12 per cent in 2015. The number of First Committee delegations
speaking about gender and disarmament in their statements also continued to increase this year. Namibia on behalf of 56
states dedicated a whole statement to this topic, urging examination of how “underlying assumptions about
how gender shapes [delegations’] own work and the dynamics of joint disarmament
efforts.” Also in October, the Latvian ambassador, who will preside over the Fifth Conference of States Parties to the
Arms Trade Treaty, announced that the conference and its preparatory meetings will focus on the gender-based violence
provision of the Treaty as a special theme. This will provide an opportunity in 2019 to advance consideration of how to
implement this aspect of the ATT, including using guidance and case studies published by groups like WILPF previously.
In addition to these forum-based efforts, the UN Institute for Disarmament Research joined the governments of Ireland,
Namibia, and Canada to form the Disarmament Impact Group as an output of the International Gender
Champions. The Group aimsto “support the disarmament community in translating gender
awareness into practical action across the range of multilateral disarmament processes
and activities.” Meanwhile, academic sources like Critical Studies on Security and the Oxford Handbook on Women,
Peace and Security, news sources like The Nation, and public speaking forums from TEDx to the London School of
Economics featured articles and talks about feminism, gender, and weapons. This has signaled an opening of academic
and activist spaces for increased consideration of these issues. So, why has all this happened so quickly? In reality, it
hasn’t. It is built on a firm foundation of activism and analysis. Feminist disarmament activists and
academics, particularly those with groups like WILPF and the IANSA Women’s Network, have been writing and
campaigning on gender and disarmament for decades. UN agencies and some governments have been working to
mainstream gender in their programming for a long time, certainly since the adoption of UN Security Council Resolution
1325 in 2000. This has led to concrete outcomes at international disarmament diplomacy forums in recent years: the first
UN General Assembly resolution on women, disarmament, non-proliferation and arms control in 2010; the inclusion of
gender-based violence in the Arms Trade Treaty in 2013; the recognition of the gendered impacts of nuclear weapons and
encouragement of women’s effective participation in disarmament in the Non-Proliferation Treaty Chair’s summary and
the UN Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons in 2017. External factors are also at play. The #MeToo movement
has arguably awoken new acceptability and credibility of previously hidden or shamed perspectives and experiences.
Women, trans, queer, non-binary, and non-conforming folks, as well as men who have
experienced sexual and gender-based violence have collectively created new spaces to
amplify these realities and demand change. At the same time, several governments have begun
pursuing what they term “Feminist Foreign Policy”. While it is debatable whether or not the foreign
policies outlined by these governments can yet be truly described as feminist, it is a welcome development for
government offices to be considering feminism not just a valid but an imperative
approach to their international engagement. In disarmament forums, momentum certainly seems to be
on our side. There is a growing acceptance among a diverse range of governments,
international organizations, and civil society groups about the reality that weapons have
gendered impacts, and that women’s participation in disarmament is important. This is
good progress, and imperative to making change in this field. But it’s not enough . The work ahead For
one thing, the demand for women’s equal, effective, or meaningful participation—while
necessary and welcome—is insufficient for truly making change in weapons policy. Our
current situation is dire. Trillions of dollars are being spent on militaries and technologies of violence while poverty,
inequality, and climate change threaten our collective security and safety. Disarmament, as a policy and
practice that leads us away from militarism and towards peace, requires new
understandings, perspectives, and approaches to weapons and war. It requires the
effective and meaningful participation of survivors of gun violence, of nuclear weapons
use and testing, of drone strikes, of bombardment of towns and cities. It requires the
effective and meaningful participation of marginalized communities—LGBT+ folks,
people of color, those at a socioeconomic disadvantage, people with disabilities. Diversity is
not about political correctness. It is the only way we are ever going to see change in the way that
we confront issues of peace and security. Where we have achieved the most disarmament progress in recent
years—banning landmines and cluster bombs and nuclear weapons, for example—we have engaged with diverse
communities and put humanitarian perspectives over the profits of arms industries or the interests of powerful
governments. This is not just about including women, especially women who come from the same or similar
backgrounds as the men who already rule the table. It’s about completely resetting the table; or
even throwing out the table and setting up an entirely new way of working. Disarmament
requires that we change the way we think about and confront war and violence as social
and economic institutions, and we can’t do that just by giving some privileges to those
who do not challenge the thinking or the behavior of those who have the most privilege.
Diversity is not for its own sake, but for how it impacts what is considered normal,
acceptable, and credible. Confronting norms, especially gendered norms, around
weapons and war is imperative to making progress on disarmament. As a feminist disarmament
activist, I have come to believe that more than anything else, the association of weapons with
power is one of the foremost obstacles to disarmament. This association comes from
a particular—and unfortunately, very dominant—understanding of
masculinity. This is a masculinity in which ideas like strength, courage, and
protection are equated with violence. It is a masculinity in which the capacity and
willingness to use weapons, engage in combat, and kill other human beings is seen as
essential to being “a real man”. This type of violent, militarized masculinity harms everyone.
It harms everyone who does not comply with that gender norm—women, queer-
identified people, non-normative men. It requires oppression of those deemed
“weaker” on the basis of gender norms. It results in domestic violence. It results
in violence against women. It results in violence against gay and trans people. It also
results in violence against men. Men mostly kill each other, inside and outside of
conflict. A big part of this is about preserving or protecting their masculinity—a
masculinity that makes male bodies more expendable. Women and children, obnoxiously
lumped together in countless resolutions and reports, are more likely be deemed
“innocent civilians,” while men are more likely be to be considered militants or
combatants. In conflict, civilian men are often targeted—or counted in casualty
recordings—as militants only because they are men of a certain age. We are all suffering
from the equation of violence and power with masculinity. It prevents those who
identified as men from being something else—from performing gender differently. It
prevents all of us as human beings to promote or explore strength, courage, and
protection from a nonviolent perspective. It makes disarmament seem weak. It makes peace
seem utopian. It makes protection without weapons seem absurd. It also makes it impossible to achieve
gender justice. It keeps men and women in binary boxes based on their biological sex. It
maintains a strict hierarchy between these boxes, in which men are tough, rational, and
violent, while women are weak, irrational, and passive. In this narrative, men are agents;
women are victims. (And reinforces the idea that there is nothing outside of this binary.) The norm of violent
masculinity will continue to cause suffering and reinforce inequalities until we get serious about doing something
differently. This is a project of dismantling the patriarchy, which is a big project, but it starts
with the language we use, the people we include in discussions, and the norms we are
willing to challenge. For 2019, let’s stop using the term “women and children”. They are not the same legally or
politically. They have different needs and abilities. Let’s talk about the different impacts of weapons
based on gender and age, instead of womenandchildren on one side and men on the other. Let’s talk about
gender diversity in disarmament, instead of just the equal participation of women and
men. Let’s get away from binary language to something more inclusive. Let’s also include
survivors and those impacted by weapons, war, and violence. Let’s think about what we consider credible
or powerful, and why we think that way. As more and more governments and
organizations become interested in taking up gender, and as feminists around the world
from all walks of life smash down barriers outside the disarmament field, let’s not waste
the opportunities ahead of us. An intersectional feminist approach to disarmament is
imperative, and we have all the tools we need to achieve it.
2NC FLOATING PIK
The alt is a prerequisite to ethical arms control
Acheson 19 - Director of Reaching Critical Will, leads WILPF’s work on stigmatizing war,
Honors BA in Peace and Conflict studies from the University of Toronto and an MA in Politics
(Ray Acheson, “Gender and Bias,” March 2019,
http://reachingcriticalwill.org/images/documents/Publications/gender-and-aws.pdf)//cpark
First of all, a note about gender. Gender doesn’t mean biological sex. It means the socially constructed
norms of how we are supposed to act as women and men or trans, non-binary, or queer
identities. These norms can and do affect how we think about weapons, war, and
violence. Throughout history, we have seen that weapons symbolize power. The association of weapons
with power comes from a very particular—and very dominant—understanding of
masculinity. This is not to say that all men agree with or perpetuate this idea, but that this is widely considered the
norm or standard for masculinity. This is a masculinity in which ideas like strength, courage, and protection are equated
with violence. It is a masculinity in which the capacity and willingness to use weapons,
engage in combat, and kill other human beings is seen as essential to being “a real man”.
This type of violent masculinity harms everyone. It requires oppression of those deemed “weaker” on
the basis of gender norms. It results in domestic violence. It results in violence against
women. It results in violence against gay and trans people. It also results in violence
against men. Men mostly kill each other, inside and outside of conflict. A big part of this is about preserving or
protecting their masculinity—a masculinity that makes male bodies more expendable. Women and children, obnoxiously
lumped together as if they are the same thing, are more likely be deemed “innocent civilians,” while men are more likely be
to be considered militants or combatants. We are all suffering from the equation of violence and power with masculinity.
It prevents those who identify as men from being something else— from acting outside the normative behaviour for men.
It prevents gender equality or justice, reinforcing the binary between men and women
and negating the existence of other experiences and identities. It prevents all of us as human
beings to explore strength, courage, and protection from a nonviolent perspective. It makes disarmament seem
weak. It makes peace seem utopian. It makes protection without weapons seem absurd .
Looking at weapons through a gender lens is not just an academic exercise.
It can help inform disarmament and armament policy. To bring us back to the question
at hand—what does gender have to do with killer robots—we can see that understanding the
gendered context and implications of certain weapons helps us understand
the best way to prevent humanitarian harm. Autonomous weapons, also known as fully
autonomous weapons, may perpetuate negative gender norms, or be used to commit acts of
gender- based violence. These possibilities are useful for demonstrating the need for
meaningful human control over weapon systems and prohibiting weapons that operate
without such control.
AT: ALT REINFORCES GENDER BINARY
The devalued feminine position can be occupied by other genders or
hierarchies of people—our argument has never been about biological sex
Kimberly Hutchings 2013 (Kimberly Hutchings is Professor of Politics and
International Relations at Queen Mary University of London. She is a leading scholar in
international relations theory. “Ethics, Feminism and International Affairs," Ethics and
International Affairs Journal,
https://qmro.qmul.ac.uk/xmlui/bitstream/handle/123456789/8120/HUTCHINGS%20
Ethics%20and%20International%20Affairs%202013.pdf?sequence=2 //EH)
In this chapter, my aim is to examine the contribution which feminist thinking makes to the ethics of international affairs.
This is a more complicated matter than might at first be apparent, because feminism does not speak with one voice.
Moreover, contestation within feminism as an international movement, in particular over questions of political violence
and questions of peacemaking and peacebuilding has become increasingly acute over the past decade, in the wake of
developments such as the passing of UNSCR 1325 and the so-called ‘War on Terror’. In the first section of the chapter,
because contestation over feminist ethics reflects contestation over feminist politics, I give a selective account of
feminist political activism in the international sphere, in particular in relation to issues of war and
peace, and the impact this has had on international politics and policy. In Section Two, I examine the trajectory thinking
about international ethics that is most associated with feminism, the ethics of care. In Section Three, I examine two
distinct feminist critiques of the ethics of care: justice ethics and difference ethics. In conclusion I argue that although
there are disagreements between feminists about ethics and international affairs, which reflect divisions about what
feminism should mean in the international realm, there are nevertheless certain thematic commonalities that cut across
these divisions. What emerges is that feminist international ethics, whether it is articulated in the language of care, of
justice or of difference, shares a commitment to grounding ethics in dialogue and practice, and orienting ethical
prescription in ways that are sensitive to context. Feminist Activism in International Politics The growth of feminist and
women's political movements in both state and interstate politics over the past four decades is a worldwide phenomenon.
This is not a straightforward matter to describe, as feminist/women's movements have
different contexts and histories and differ in their understandings of the key values and
goals of feminism - to the extent that for some campaigners on behalf of women the very label 'feminism' is suspect
(Basu 1995, 1-21; Mohanty 2003; Agethangelou and Turcotte 2010). For the purposes of this chapter, however, I will
use the term 'feminism' in the broadest way possible, to refer to political movements or
scholarly work which is in some sense premised on the need to address the ways in
which women and men are, throughout the world, systematically disadvantaged by being
assigned to the category 'women' or ‘feminine’. This is not to suggest that some women
are not systematically advantaged in relation to some men or that most men, as well as
most women, are not systematically disadvantaged in the current world order. Nor is it
to suggest that only women ever occupy the devalued ‘feminine’ position in
a binary gender order . The feminist claim is simply that the evidence bears out the
continuing relevance of gender as one principle of stratification (amongst others) that
systematically disadvantages most women and some men throughout the world (Peterson
and Runyan 1993; Tickner 2001; Steans 2006; Shepherd 2010). Feminist movements and campaigns have focused on
many different goals. Feminist politics has been an integral part of struggles for national liberation from imperial and
colonial domination. Feminist campaigning has focused on ensuring equal civil and political rights for women, and
transforming political institutions to be more representative and inclusive of women's interests. Women's material
disadvantage has also been a crucial issue for feminists in both developed and developing economies. And feminists have
also focused attention on violence against women; on women's rights over their own bodies or on social institutions and
practices that discriminate against women. It is difficult to measure how successful feminist politics has been in relation to
different issues and in different parts of the world or at the international level over time (Basu 1995; Steans 2006; Rai and
Waylen 2008). However in general, women's issues and interests have gained a greater visibility across the board,
including in state and international institutions, as well as domestic and international non-state movements and
organizations. This can be illustrated by looking briefly at feminist interventions on issues of war and peace over the past
thirty years.
AT: CAN’T CHANGE INTERNATIONAL NORMS
Women’s movements have already started to change international norms –
the alternative will continue to prove effective
Karen Celis et al., Research professor at the Department of Political Science and co-
director Research of RHEA, August 2013, "Introduction: Gender and Politics: A
Gendered World, a Gendered Discipline," No Publication,
https://www.oxfordhandbooks.com/view/10.1093/oxfordhb/9780199751457.001.0001/
oxfordhb-9780199751457-e-34 E.G.
In addition to their important role in the broader opposition movements against dictatorship,
organized women also tried to ensure that the outcomes of some transitions would bring
positive change for women, such as increased political representation and the provision
of greater rights in the post transition period (Waylen 2007). In both the Chilean and South African
transitions women organized in an attempt to influence the developing political processes but with varying results
(Hassim 2005; Waylen 2010). And in 2011 we have seen some similar efforts in Tunisia and Egypt as part of the Arab
Spring. Egyptian women organized after only one women was appointed as part of the transitional government and a
clause was inserted in the draft constitution that appeared to preclude women from becoming president. Although not
successful everywhere, women’s movements have changed international norms—
enabling on a global level the recognition of women’s rights as human rights
and anti-violence against women measures (Friedman 1995, 2009; Weldon 2006). A raft of
equality measures has been introduced. Electoral quotas are now widespread (adopted in roughly half the
world’s parliaments); though they are controversial, if they are well designed, actually implemented, and enforced (unlike
in France and Brazil), they are one of the most effective ways to “fast track” increases in women’s representation
(Dahlerup 2006; Krook 2009). Equality legislation, gender mainstreaming, and women’s policy agencies (WPAs) have
also been established in most of the world and endorsed by international and regional bodies like the European Union and
the United Nations (Squires 2007; Kantola 2010). Gender equality policies and policies of importance
to women are defined not only by feminism, women’s movement organizations, and
women’s policy agencies but also by issues; the extent that women’s organizations are
included in policy-making processes has shown to be highly issue specific (Krizsán et al. 2010;
McBride and Mazur 2010; Verloo 2011, 7). Htun and Weldon (2010) showed that feminist policy change
depends on whether issues are doctrinal; about the status of women predominantly; or
also strongly about class. As a consequence of this research, then, we now know a lot
about women’s movements and the impact of women activists in a wide array of political
arenas.
AT: LEGAL PROTECTIONS GOOD
Legal action results in the revictimization of sexual assault survivors—
extensions of sexual violence
Catharine Mackinnon 17 (Catharine Mackinnon is an Elizabeth A. Long professor of
law at the University of Michigan, and the James Barr Ames Visiting Professor of Law at
Harvard Law School. April 17th, 2017, “Butterfly Politics”, pgs 61-62 //EH)
I pursue this task here through three issues: rape, sexual harassment, and pornography. These issues were chosen because
I believe that women’s sexuality is at the core of the way we are socially defined and
therefore denigrated as women and because sexuality has been largely ignored as a factor
in women’s inequality to men. This means that the way the law treats issues of women’s
sexuality is a crucial indicator and determinant of women’s status as a sex. Over the past ten
years, many women have attempted to pursue changes in the rape law and its
administration. Rape is legally defined as sexual intercourse with force and without consent. The idea is to know it
through its distinction from ordinary sexual intercourse, which is not forced and is consensual. Presumably, what makes it
criminal distinguishes it from what most men do and from what most women experience. Intercourse without consent—
the one-sidedness is striking. Consent means somebody else initiates; you agree or not. But sexuality is supposed to be
mutual. If rape means lack of consent, sex is apparently not envisioned to be mutual, but
only consented to, acceded to. Equal initiation is not fundamental to the model. This is
consistent with what has been found about much heterosexual intercourse. Women know from
our own lives about the everyday construction of sexual intercourse. We are told that sex is something men do to women—
men initiate it. Women at most approve that initiation or don’t. At least, that is the dominant model, and it is
built into the rape law. Rape is also distinguished from sex by virtue of force. A fundamental question is whether
the presence of force can be distinguished with a hard line from what ordinarily goes on between women and men under
conditions of social inequality. As convicted rapists see themselves and are seen by other prison
inmates, all they did wrong was get caught. They think that they are in prison for doing something that is
little different from what most men do most of the time. Life taught them this. Add this to the fact that most rapes, it
appears from studies, are not reported.9 This indicates that women do not think the legal system will
recognize their violation and vindicate their interests. Many women who have gone
through rape trials see the trial as an extension of the rape .10 The burdens of
proof, the legal assumptions, the disbelief they encounter, mean that their sexuality can
be violated without consequences to the violator. The perspective they encounter is that what they said
happened to them is not so different from what happens to most women much of the time. If this man is to be put
away, the woman will have to show what happened to her is an extraordinary,
exceptional occurrence. Often she cannot. If it is hard for a trier of fact to distinguish a rape clearly,
perhaps that should indict the ordinary experience of heterosexual intercourse. Instead, it exonerates the rapist.
Indicting intercourse does not directly help a woman who is trying, through the legal process, to establish that she has
been raped, as the law defines it, either. Discussing this analysis is sensitive in part because it can feed the implicit
views of some judges and juries who converge rape with sex to let rapists off the hook.
Men accused of rape often plead, in effect, that they did not use any more force than is usual during the preliminaries.11
Studies show that most rapists are not psychologically abnormal men.12 Once a woman is married, unless
she lives in a state with a still-exceptional marital rape statute, or with an interpretation
of the rape law that extends to rape in marriage, any legal right to mutuality in a sexual
relationship with her husband is given up, in the sense that the law does not stand
behind her if she is not interested tonight. Under the pervasive assumptions about women’s sexual
availabil ity, any woman who charges rape risks being undercut as a “whore,” as someone
who has had sex before, so cannot be violated. This assumption is used particularly
invidiously against Black women, who are assumed, on a racist basis, to be hypersexual,
labeled with one side of the madonna / whore distinction. When a Black woman who complains of
sexual mistreatment is disbelieved, it is often because it is seen to be her nature to wish to be sexually used—she must have
consented, so it was not a rape. Women vote with our feet. We do not report rape because we do not
believe we will get justice. The accuracy of this perception can be found in the animating requirements of the
legal system on the issue of rape, which reflect rather than stand against the values of the unequal social system.13
Those are male values, meaning values from the male point of view, unequal on the basis
of sex. Viewpoints don’t have genitals. This refers to a social perspective in the interest and from the standpoint of a
particular group of people. It doesn’t matter whether members of dominant groups enjoy their position or not, although
often they do. What does matter is that this system gives dominant groups social power to actualize themselves, to assert
themselves at the expense of, over and against, other groups with impunity. To be white in a white supremacist society is
to be a member of a socially dominant group. The phrase “from the experience and to the advantage of white people”
describes a social standpoint—a dominant one that anyone can adopt if permitted to. Women, if permitted, can have male
dominant attitudes. Men, with much struggle and perhaps decades of commitment, can learn women’s standpoint. To
speak of male attitudes is not to speak of the physical or the natural. That it does, is what they think. With this state, as
these fragments of evidence, logic, and experiences suggest, we are caught between letting rapists off the
hook and demanding that they be energetically prosecuted. Successful prosecution
means rapists go to jail, where they will likely be raped. They will be brutal ized, at
constant risk, much like what women experience every day walking down the street. Jail
keeps them away from most women but changes nothing in the ultimate risk they pose to
women. Men who go to jail and are raped do not usually come to identify with their
victims. They cannot wait to get out, to be no longer the victim. Then they often rape
again.14 Women have no place to get out to. If we insist that the state protect us, we may get more
rapes reported, but we do not seem to produce many more convictions. At the same time, Black
men are often disproportionately convicted of rape, including those they did not commit, which is not in women’s interest
either. These initiatives do not change the predominately male behavior or attitudes of the society or the legal system. But
what are our alternatives? We are presented the choice of attempting to get the state to protect us, with dubious benefits,
or abdicating the state as recourse and forum altogether. Back to the law as everything or nothing, no rights except those
that power will accede or those that can be extracted or enforced socially. Abdicating the state altogether encourages rape.
There would be even less risk in forcing a woman than there is now, men could rape with absolute, not just nearly total,
impunity. That strategy leaves women, including Black women, to the rapists. There has to be a better way to use the
state—maybe civil rights. With sexual harassment, which has been pursued in this way, there has been more progress.
Some of the same problems of credibility, and a similar set of social forces of gender and sexuality, animate this issue as
they do the issue of rape. But this time, with sexual harassment women have so far defined the
injury. The crime of rape was never defined by women but by male legislators and
judges, who seem to have difficulty understanding that women are injured by sexual
abuse. The rape law shows it; the damage to the victim of rape is nowhere central to it. What
women lose when raped eludes it. The law of sexual harassment, by contrast, recognizes that this fairly
standard set of social sexual behaviors is injurious. I am often asked what the difference is between sexual harassment and
what goes on between men and women all the time. The answer is often very little. Their implication is, How
can it be illegal to do something that goes on all the time? How can you be against it? The
answer is, if it goes on all the time, maybe that is a reason to be more against it. That it is
common supports the view that it is discrimination—implicit in discrimination is the notion that the behavior is pervasive,
unlike the view taken by criminal law that the prohibited behavior is exceptional. Of course, particular acts of
discrimination are often thought exceptional rather than systemic, but the concept makes it possible to argue that it is part
of a larger phenomenon or pattern, shared by a group of victims who also share a lesser status. Sexual harassment is the
unwanted imposition of sexual attention on someone who is not in a position to refuse it. Now ask: In what circumstances
do women tend to be in a position to refuse men’s sexual attentions? In the workplace? Not usually. Women are
systematically the structural subordinates of men in the workplace; therefore men can
require pretty much anything, and hold women’s jobs as hostage. Educational
institutions? Some women are teachers, some women are in positions of power, but on
the whole it is men who are at the upper reaches of that hierarchy too. Women students are not
usually in a position to refuse men teachers’ sexual attentions. Employment and education have been litigated because
there are laws against discrimination there. But what about areas in which there is no equality law—say, the home?
Women in the home are not necessarily in a position to refuse the sexual attention of
their husbands either. The need to survive economically may make women who are beaten in their homes unable
to leave or refuse the men who batter them. If women cannot avoid being beaten, then they are not
in a position to resist sexual harassment—pinching, leering, unwelcome sexual acts—in the home
either.
“Adding and stirring gender” is depoliticizing and solves zero part of the
alternative
Rasoul 12
(Sana Azad, 1-28-12, School for Oriental and African Studies, London, England, Can
We Simply “Add Gender” To Other International Relations Theories?, E-
International Relations Students, JKS)
Taking the Israel-Palestine conflict as another example, the realist understanding of this
would also remain gender blind so that we are left with only a partial account of the
conflict. The rise in the rate of female suicide bombers, and women’s contribution to the conflict directly challenge
claims that women are more peace prone then men for instance (Frances, 2005). Realist analysis renders this area
Even if we add gender to these mainstream theories it will not solve
invisible.
the flaws discussed above simply because these theories must begin to think
of war in terms that go beyond the balance of power and competition
between states without regard for agency. This is exactly what feminists bring to
the table when they ask where are the women?¶ The role of power in all of this is crucial
and essential. Power; not just in the gendered constructions of state and society but also
the role of power in the discipline as a whole is also of concern to feminist scholars.
Sylvester (cited in Peterson, 1992) claims that gender is kept of the agenda in such a way that the role
of women in international politics has not been adequately studied. This reinforced the
gender-blind analysis that creeps into the dominant theories and which obscure more
subtle forms of power that go beyond “hard” and “material” forms. Spiegel and Waltz (cited in
Peterson 1992, 161) claim that in relations between states power must be maintained over another “just as in households
or community conflict…separation from other units if that were possible, would mean less contact and thus led conflict.”
Feminists see this statement as hindering clearer analysis by segregating the role of women and men without
understanding the constructions of femininity and masculinity. This is because everything feminism comes to be
associated with masculinity must always go in the opposite trajectory. If women are governed by their “emotions” men
must behave “rationally”, if women are seen as “soft” men must in contrast be “tough.” To overcome this one-
dimensional view of how power is produced Tickner (1992, 65) argues that we should
understand “power as mutual enablement rather than domination.” It is the study of
both masculinity and femininity that allows this to happen.
AT: POLICY FOCUS KEY
We meet!
Ray Acheson, Director of Reaching Critical Will, transcript of speech Reaching Critical,
12-13-2018, "Latest news from RCW," No Publication,
http://reachingcriticalwill.org/news/latest-news/13583-presentation-on-gender-
weapons-and-power-the-importance-of-feminism-for-disarmament E.G.
Just a caveat: when I’m talking about gender, I’m not talking about all men this, or all
women that. I’m talking about gender norms, about how we’re expected to behave as
men and women, and how any kind of other identities—queer, non-binary, trans
identities—are left out of discussions. Looking at gender in the context of
disarmament is not just an academic exercise. It is directly related to
weapons policies. We’ve seen throughout history how armament policies
and practices are closely interlinked with notions about power and strength.
And these notions are highly gendered. Whether it’s small arms in communities or
whether it’s nuclear arms at the state level, this idea that weapons afford security
is built into the conception of a very dominant violent masculinity, a belief
that men need weapons to protect their women, to protect their communities, or to
protect their countries. We should think about this when we’re addressing disarmament
on a community level with small arms, trying to reduce gun violence, or trying to impose
restrictions on the possession of firearms; and when we’re addressing the international
arms trade or nuclear weapons. In my mind, it all comes down to the same thing. You
can see the same dynamics play out time and again, whether it’s diplomats at the UN, or
folks working on community based disarmament activism. You can see the inherent
masculinities, this conception of power and dominance through the use of weapons and
violence. You can also see the ways in which those who equate weapons with
power and security push back on alternative viewpoints. There is a process of
belittling, a sense that anyone calling for disarmament or calling out the dangers of
weapons, or the excessive accumulation of weapons, is naive. We’re told: “This is the way
the world is. We need these weapons because we have to protect, we have to deter.”
There’s also a highly gendered aspect to how the push back is delivered, too.
The term gaslighting is relevant here. This term comes from a play in 1938 about
psychological abuse. A man deliberately makes his wife go insane by denying her lived
reality. The term is applied to politics to give a description to the situation we largely find
ourselves in now, where political leaders are just outright lying to us, denying our lived
reality. We see this a lot in the disarmament field. We listen to the nuclear-armed
states, for example, say that “nuclear weapons aren’t dangerous—they are not
meant to be used. They keep us safe. They keep the world stable and secure.”
Meanwhile, the countries possessing nuclear weapons are surrounding each
other with more and more weapons, they are accusing each other of violating
treaties, they are walking away from agreements that they’ve made. We’re
seeing this attack on the so-called international order by the states with the most
weapons, and they’re saying that they feel insecure so they need to keep their weapons.
AT: REALISM
Conventional realist approaches to IR in relation to security and arms
sales is a form of patriarchal discourse which effectively renders
femininity invisible in security discourse as well as IR scholarship –
challenging the rejection of feminine ideas and gendered dialogues
should be prioritized
Blanchard, 03 – Eric M. Blanchard is currently Adjunct Assistant Professor in the
Political Science department at Columbia University in New York City. Dr. Blanchard received his
Ph.D. from the University of Southern California. He teaches classes in global politics and has
research interests in international security, U.S. foreign policy, Chinese politics and East Asian
security, International Relations theory, critical qualitative methodologies, and gender and world
politics.
(2003, Eric M., “Gender, International Relations, and the Development of Feminist
Security Theory,” https://www-jstor.
org.proxy.lib.umich.edu/stable/pdf/10.1086/368328.pdf?refreqid=excelsior%3Ade5511
9b155e7e3b75f466008c9d4ccc, accessed 07/19/19, lrch rm)
National security discourses are typically part of the elite world of masculine high
politics. Statesmen, diplomats, and the military conduct the business of states, and too often
war, imbuing the relations and processes of the society of nation-states with an atmosphere
seemingly devoid of women and an interest in issues of concern to women . The academic discipline
charged with theorizing this world, international relations (IR), has only recently made a place for feminist analysis, and
then only grudgingly. Academic feminism and IR are contemporaries, each developing through the war-torn twentieth
century and motivated by some of the same international events, although work in IR often overlooks women’s
contributions, such as the 1919 International Congress of Women, which ran parallel to Versailles (Grant 1992, 86). While
in some respects estranged from the mainstream of IR, feminist and gender scholars have launched an important critique
of the core issues of the discipline: war, peace, and the quest to secure the boundaries of the nation-state. In a rapidly
changing, post-9/11 world, feminist voices must be heard if the international system is to
achieve a more comprehensive security in the face of terror networks, technowar, and
mounting civilian casualties. The term security itself has been wrought with ambiguity and has recently taken on
the status of an essentially contested concept in the discipline. Within international relations, discussions of
international security traditionally revolve around issues of war and peace in an international
system of sovereign and self-interested nation-states, with a particular focus on issues of military
strategy. In this view, the provision of security is entrusted to the state, with the assumption that
states protect and secure the members of the political community from threats emanating from
the dangerous, foreign realm outside state boundaries. However, feminists and other critical
scholars have started to inquire into the meaning of this concept by asking just who is being
secured by security policies? Against the illusion of total security, feminists contest the possibility of a
perfectly controlled, coherent security policy that could handle every international contingency. Security for
women struggling with everyday patriarchy, as Christine Sylvester observes, “is always partial
. . . elusive and mundane” (1994, 183). In this essay, I survey the relatively new but promising IR feminist
literature on international security, highlighting the functions of feminist scholarship in any disciplinary intervention—the
critique of existing theory, the reconceptualization of core concepts, and the expansion of empirical knowledge (Boals
1975; Jaquette 1976). A review of feminist security theory scholarship (FST) indicates important successes in another task
of feminist analysis—rendering the familiar strange, in this case by problematizing the naturalness of “security” (Harding
1991, 142, 149; cited in Tickner 2001). Through a dialogue fostered with political theorists, peace activists, and policy
makers, FST has subverted, expanded, and enriched notions of security for more than a decade by making at least four
theoretical moves.1 First, IR feminists question the supposed nonexistence and irrelevance of women in international
security politics, engendering or exposing the workings of gender and power in international relations. This entails the
recovery of women’s experiences, the recognition of gender-based exclusion from decision-making roles, and the
investigation of women’s invisibility in international theory. Second, FST questions the extent to which women are
secured by state “protection” in times of war and peace. Third, FST contests discourses wherein women are linked
unreflectively with peace, arguing that the identification of women with peace be balanced by recognition of the
participation, support, and inspiration women have given to war making. Fourth, and more recently, feminists have
troubled the assumption that gendered security practices address only women and have started to develop a variegated
concept of masculinity to help explain security. I discuss these contributions in three sections, treating theoretical
innovations in feminist 1 Feminists in IR have emphasized a conversational approach (Peterson 1992b, 16) and fostered an
“aware cacophony” (Sylvester 1987, 501) of feminist perspectives. Unfortunately, attempts to “open new conversational
spaces” between conventional IR theories and the feminist periphery (Peterson 1992d, 184) have not yet dissipated the
“gendered estrangement” that inhibits constructive dialogues and public critical engagement between feminist and IR
scholars (Tickner 1997, 613). For some recent exchanges between feminists, the mainstream, and other feminists, see
Keohane 1989, 1998; Weber 1994; Jones 1996, 1998; Tickner 1997, 1998; Carver, Cochran, and Squires 1998; Marchand
1998; Elshtain 2000; Van Crevald 2000. IR, the conceptual development of the discipline’s core issues, and the empirical
expansion of IR theory.2 Critique of existing theory: Challenging “realism” With its progenitors among the
European e´migre´s disillusioned with the “idealism” that they assumed to be a cause of World
War II, the orthodox approach to IR known as “realism” developed in Anglo-
American academic and policy circles following the war (Morgenthau [1948] 1967; cf. Tickner 1988).
Realists, as the name implies, dedicated themselves to the dispassionate study of international reality, focusing on
“what is” in contrast to the utopian visions of “what should be,” which they saw typified in
doomed schemes such as the League of Nations (Carr [1939] 1964). Privileging the state and the military sector and
viewing violence as endemic to the international system, realist prescriptions gained ascendancy in cold war U.S.
academic and governmental discourses of strategy and security. Because realists saw conflict as inevitable in
anarchy (an international environment unsanctioned by any higher authority), “security” entailed the pursuit of power
conducted by statesmen strictly guided by considerations of national interest and unimpeded by moral deliberations.
During the 1970s, academic realism transformed itself into “neorealism.” Inspired by the scientific successes of
microeconomics, neorealists overcame their preoccupation with great statesmen and diplomats and
positioned their work squarely under the rubric of U.S. social science. Settling on the systemic
level of analysis, which discounted domestic politics, neorealists applied their analysis and science
of deterrence to the “bipolar” structure of an international system divided between two
transcendental superpowers (Waltz 1979). With the end of the cold war, a window of critical opportunity opened as
issues of the environment and substate ethnopolitical violence suddenly became more salient. Growing awareness of the
limits of neorealism, the dissolution of the Soviet bloc, the uniting of Europe, and the new relevance of ecological and
economic threats prompted some scholars to reevaluate “what (or who) is to be secured, from what threats, and by what
means” (Krause and Williams 1996, 230; cf. Crawford 1991; see also Campbell 1992). Some scholars gradually
broadened security to encompass economic, 2 While international security is the focus of this review,
feminists continue to make important contributions in other IR issue areas, e.g., international political
economy (Marchand and Runyan 2000) and international organization (Meyer and Pru¨gl 1999). For overviews that
trace the development of feminist IR theory, see Murphy 1996; Tickner 2001; True 2001. environmental, and social
sectors (Buzan 1991), while others promoted an emancipatory vision of security, linking it with the releasing of individuals
from the constraints not only of war but also of poverty, meager education, and political oppression (Booth 1991).
Feminist incursions into the field of IR security can be usefully situated on the widening side of
the “widening” versus “narrowing” debate: the former argues that the scope of the neorealist
concept of security needs to be expanded to address a range of threats, utilize a
broader spectrum of methodologies, and address mounting ethical concerns (Kolodziej 1992); the
latter argues that a move beyond the study of military force would deal a serious blow to the field’s intellectual coherence
while distracting from serious threats (Walt 1991). Critical security discourse has generally invoked,
but not engaged, feminist scholarship, and even approaches that imagined societal sectors
of security (Buzan, Wæver, and de Wilde 1998) have yet to take gender seriously (Hansen 2000).3 Feminists in IR
argue that realism, dominated by elite, white, male practitioners, is a
patriarchal discourse that renders women invisible from the high politics of IR
even as it depends on women’s subjugation as a “‘domesticated’ figure whose
‘feminine’ sensibilities are both at odds with and inconsequential to the harsh
‘realities’ of the public world of men and states” (Runyan and Peterson 1991, 68–69). Feminists in IR
explain the exclusion of women from foreign policy decision making by pointing to the “extent
to which international politics is such a thoroughly masculinized sphere of
activity that women’s voices are considered inauthentic” (Tickner 1992, 4). Women’s
traditional exclusion from the military and continuing lack of access to political power at times presents women with a
“catch-22” situation. For example, the importance of a candidate’s military service as a qualification for government office
in U.S. political campaigns puts women, who cannot appeal to this experience, at a disadvantage in obtaining the elite
status of national office and thus the ability to affect defense and security policies (Tobias 1990; cf. Elshtain 2000, 445).
However, the FST critique is not limited to strategies for getting more women access to corridors of power; feminists
also direct our attention to the gendered structure of IR theory. As the title of a classic IR text
indicates, the study of international politics has been concerned first and foremost with Man, the
State, and War (Waltz 1959). In this book, neorealist Kenneth 3 It is notable that two of the most prominent academic
volumes treating the challenges to traditional security theory from the vantage point of the mid-1990s did not include any
contributions from gender analysts (Katzenstein 1996; Krause and Williams 1997). Waltz turns to the canons of political
philosophy for an explanation of the causes of war by asking whether wars are caused by human nature, by the internal
structure of states, or by the international system. An important component of the study of IR is a self-positioning in the
tradition of Western political theory—tracing an intellectual lineage to Machiavelli and Hobbes—particularly as it concerns
the state. Feminist analysis of this pedigree shows that the feminine has
long served as a symbolic threat to
militarized Western conceptualizations of political community, from the ancient Greeks to the
twentieth century; Aeschylus’s Furies and Machiavelli’s Fortuna are but two examples (Harstock 1983). Rebecca
Grant (1991) argues that a gender bias in IR, transmitted unproblematically from Western political thought to the study of
IR, results in the question of gender being taken as irrelevant. For Grant, IR’s interpretation of Hobbes allows “no room
for the question of how gender relations affect the transition out of the brutish state of nature and into society,” while
Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s famous stag hunt, often invoked as a parable of the problems of security, ignores the familial
relations that control the hunter’s defection from the hunting circle (10–15). Taking men as the sole political actors and
citizens, the political theory borrowed by IR postulates a domestic/international divide
premised on the private/public distinction that relegates women to a space outside
politics (9). Jean Bethke Elshtain’s rich blend of political theory, personal narrative, and history, Women and War
([1987] 1995), serves as a rejoinder to the discipline’s philosophical conceit and issues a key challenge to the
domestic/international divide that Grant identifies. In a sweeping survey of the discourse of war from the Greeks onward,
Elshtain details women’s complex relationships to the body politic, and thus to war, as they emerge from the narratives
(war stories) that are constitutive of war. Elshtain focuses on the ways in which war’s “productive destructiveness”
inscribes and reinscribes men’s and women’s identities and thus the boundaries of community: “War creates the
people. War produces power, individual and collective” (166–67). Reacting to what she sees as the onset of
scientism and hyperrationality in academic IR, Elshtain critiques the retreat into abstraction that the quest for scientific
certainty produced in “professionalized” war discourse and attempts to revive the bond between politics and morality
broken by Machiavelli. By reifying state behavior, Elshtain argues, the realist narrative ignores human agency and
identity: “No children are ever born, and nobody ever dies, in this constructed world. There are states, and they are what
is” (91).4 4 One criticism of Elshtain rightly spots her U.S.-centric “myopia” but maintains that Sensitive to the importance
of language and narrative in matters of security, Elshtain critiques what she calls the “strategic voice,” an authoritative
discourse that is “cool, objective, scientific, and overwhelmingly male” ([1987] 1995, 245). According to Elshtain,
this realm of expert language, with its talk of “peacekeeping” missiles and village “pacification,” separates ordinary citizens
from civic life. Drawing on fieldwork initiated at a summer program for nuclear strategists during the last decade of the
cold war, Carol Cohn’s (1987) analysis of the “technostrategic” discourse of nuclear defense intellectuals
casts a feminist eye on the thinking that shapes the practices of national security. Using an
ethnographic, participant-observer strategy, Cohn shows how the planners’ use of gendered euphemisms,
exemplified by the talk of nuclear virginity and the association of disarmament with
emasculation, contributed to a willful, discursive denial of the strategists’ accountability to
“reality”—the potential cost of strategic decisions in terms of human life (1987, 1990).
While denial of the horrors of nuclear war may be an occupational hazard of nuclear planning, to achieve success (in terms
of professional standing and collegial status) participants must legitimate their positions by assuming the masculine—that
is, tough, rational, logical—position in the gendered security discourse. The masculine position is also available to (and
must be taken by) women who want to be taken seriously, while they limit their “feminine” contributions for the sake of
legitimacy (1993, 238). Cohn thus shows how both men and women are implicated in, constituted through, and positioned
by gendered security discourse. Realizing that merely adding women to the profession will
not eliminate the degradation of “feminine” ideas, Cohn suggests that the task
ahead is a revaluation of gender discourse (1993). Elshtain’s and Cohn’s recognition of the
importance of gendered language is an example of the key FST theme of the everyday politics of security. With skillfully
crafted vignettes, Cynthia Enloe’s Bananas, Beaches, and Bases (1989) amplifies this theme, providing an important
blueprint for FST and its revisioning of security. By finding gender in national security issues both traditional (military
bases and diplomacy) and innovatively ordinary (sex tourism and women’s peace movements)
Aff Answers
ALT FAILS—CAPITALISM
Capitalism ruins any chance of alt solvency
Dawn Foster, 1-16-19 (Dawn Foster is a British journalist, broadcaster and author. She
is a columnist for The Guardian newspaper, writing on housing and on inequality and
austerity. She is also a staff writer for Jacobin magazine. "Capitalism is co-opting, &
ruining, the feminist movement," Huck Magazine, 16th January, 2019
https://www.huckmag.com/perspectives/opinion-perspectives/capitalism-is-co-opting-
and-ruining-the-feminist-movement/ //EH)
What a comfort it was this week to wake, brew coffee, browse Twitter and head to my bathroom to discover that the brand
of razor I use on my legs promotes women’s rights and feminism. Each time I epilate I can bask in the warm glow of
knowing that my barely conscious consumer choices are part of the onward march of
progress. The fact that three men who sexually harassed me still work in the same industry as me and have faced no
consequences needn’t bother me. That me and practically every woman I know has been sexually
assaulted and is unable to walk home at night in anything other than a state of terror
barely concerns me. The fact that Gillette have made an advert paying lip service to the #MeToo
movement is far more important than the fact barely anything has changed materially for women as a result of the
conversation. Brands’ incursion into modern culture wars is scarcely new: Dove and Pantene have historically been keen
to cast themselves as empowering for women, with advertisements focusing on “real beauty.” What happens when
Gillette, Dove, or any other brand decides to thrust themselves into the shallows of
cultural debate with a poorly executed film short? The ads are shared online, garner
praise and now, with the inevitable bore-fest of the Twitter cycle, attract criticism that
can be eked out into a news story for several days. Yet I cannot bring myself to feel anything other than
a soporific weariness each time a multinational bounds onto the stage with a similarly mawkish stunt. Most
companies tend not to have a conscience, only an agenda: to make as much money as
possible, and sell as many products as they can, by tapping into whatever zeitgeist they
deem most palatable currently. That increasingly means portraying themselves as the face of responsible,
feeling capitalism: something that many would argue is an oxymoron in itself. The brand of soap or razor you buy will
have little impact on anything other than Proctor and Gamble’s profit margins, and the argument that these adverts are
harmless and only helpful to the broader cultural conversation is persuasive on a surface level. But the messages are
because actual structural
always so unthreatening – different people can be pretty! Men, be a little nicer! –
change to challenge sexism, domestic and sexual violence is impossible without
also shaking the foundations of capitalism, and taking direct action. Why have so many
women been assaulted and abused by wealthy and powerful men? Because the value of a human life
is intrinsically entwined with their economic worth under capitalism. Why do
working-class women, and women of colour experience far higher levels of sexual violence, and the men who abuse them
far fewer consequences for their actions? Because women’s work is grossly undervalued, and men in positions of power
seen as uniquely gifted and irreplaceable, and their victims disposable. Very little has changed in terms of prosecuting
rape and sexual assault, and the increased precarity of work and erosion of workers’ rights increases the risks for women
in the workplace and allows victimisation and violence to go unpunished for years. Column inch after column inch has
been written on the outpouring of testimony on sexual assault from women globally, with almost no action as a result. A
small handful of men have had their careers quietly dialled down after decades of behaving despicably with impunity,
while others became worried their moment of public reckoning may be on the horizon. But far more women are almost
catatonic with weariness when accepting the fact that men who’ve targeted them in the past will almost certainly never
face anything approaching justice. Cynical, poorly made marketing campaigns such as Gillette’s,
designed to whip up arguments within late capitalism’s culture wars, aren’t harmless:
they suck the oxygen from the room, failing to demand any recognisable structures
change, bandwagon-jumping on social movements to flog a few more razors. I promise, next
time I’ll take my own advice and try to lead by example: ignore the clumsy, condescending attention-grabbing of the huge
multinational soap-floggers, and protest instead.
The concept of 'state feminism' is widely used to refer to the alliances between women's agencies and women's movement
activists, and their effectiveness in getting state responses movement's demands. Since the UN recommendation in 1975
that these agencies should lished in nation states they have spread across the world and become key actors in gender The
role, success and characteristics of these agencies have become the focus for intensive research.1 Recent research has
identified a tendency towards 'changing state feminism', reflects on changes within both state practices
(new forms of governance, New Public welfare state retrenchment, globalization) and
feminism (diversity policies and streaming) (Kantola and Outshoorn, 2007). In this article we focus on one aspect
of these the impact of neoliberalism on both the context in which state feminism is situated (the the
form that it takes (feminism). We argue that the concept 'state feminism' no longer adequately
captures the complexity emerging feminist engagements with new forms of governance. This conviction was by a
recent paper exploring the relation between feminist NGOs and women's policy Servicio Nacional de la Mujer (SERNAM)
in Chile, which highlighted the fact that this agency seeks private funding for their activities (Stoffel, 2007).2
These femocrats thus no longer turn to the state - as implied by 'state feminism' - but rather to the market
to pursue gender equality. Similarly, a recent study into the funding of women's organizations worldwide found
that there has been a general shift in funding to private foundations (AWID, 2007). This article seeks to
explore these trends, noting that governments have opted for differing degrees of neoliberal market
reform with different consequences for women's policy agencies. Nonetheless, we suggest that 'state
feminists', as government bureaucrats, are often embedded in these reforms, frequently embracing
their logic and structurally unlikely to take a critical stance towards them. The academic 'state
feminism' literature, by contrast, needs to be more circumspect. We suggest that we are witnessing a move from state
feminism to 'market feminism'. We coin the term 'market feminism' as distinct from 'state feminism' to analyse
the ways in which feminist engagements with public policy agendas are increasingly mediated via private sector
organizations according to the logic of the market. This results in gender equality machineries in nation states
becoming ever more embedded in neoliberal market reform. The article gives examples of what we
are labelling 'market feminism' and argues that this move from state feminism to market feminism impacts on both the
political practices and policy priorities of the women's policy agencies. These developments not only change the
relationship between the agencies and the women's movement, but also give primacy to those
feminist claims that are complicit with a market agenda. These changes can also be conceptualized in
terms of the representative process, which is two fold within both state feminism and market feminism, comprising both
the substantive representation of women and the constitutive representation of gender (see Squires, 2008). The substantive
representation of women captures one facet of the representative process, whereby representatives (usually
assumed to be elected parliamentarians) aim to speak on behalf of female constituents by
describing their preferences and consciously held interests (Celis et al., 2008). The
constitutive representation of gender captures another significant facet of the representative process, whereby
representatives (including unelected femocrats and gender experts) articulate these interests in ways that
inevitably privilege particular conceptions of gender relations (Squires, 2008). We work with the
assumption that both state feminism and market feminism are about substantive representation of women and constitutive
representation of gender, which means, for example, that state feminist practices (as a form of
representation) have been both enabling and constraining, constituting gender relations in
particular ways. We suggest that market feminist practices make different sorts of representative claims,
constituting gender relations in new ways - ways which erode the space for the types of
representative claims-making pursued by an earlier generation of state feminists, but which
also facilitate new forms of claim-making.
ALT FAILS—COOPTION
Their alternative gets coopted by mainstream feminist movements that
inevitably fail
Jessa Crispin, 2-13-2017, (Jessa Crispin is the author of Why I Am Not a Feminist: A
Feminist Manifesto. "The Failures of Mainstream Feminism," New Republic,
https://newrepublic.com/article/140248/failures-mainstream-feminism-misogyny-
doom-hillary-clinton //EH)
On paper, at least, 2016 looked to be a banner year for feminism. As the GOP primary field succumbed to
Donald Trump’s insurgency, Hillary Clinton’s march to the White House seemed all but inevitable. Discussions about rape
on college campuses, workplace harassment, pay disparity, and other feminist issues finally broke through to the
mainstream. A-list celebrities began embracing the word feminism—a significant shift after decades when feminists were
little more than pop-culture punch lines, derided for their humorlessness, earnestness, and ideological single-mindedness.
Seemingly overnight, feminism had become fashionable. Pop stars used the word to sell records, guys used it
to get laid, models used it to push product, writers used it to advance their brand. Like all fashions, it passed. And
like
all fashions, it turned out to be a frivolous, cosmetic change, completely divorced from
the actual lived experience of most women. Instead of the first female president, we now have an accused
sexual predator in the highest office in the land and a proud misogynist homophobe as his deputy and de facto head of
domestic policy. Even more startling, in a way, are the exit polls showing that 53 percent of white women voted for
Trump—and that many of those same women consider themselves feminists. How did we get to this point? How could a
majority of white women choose Trump over the first woman to serve as the presidential standard-bearer for a major
political party—and call themselves feminists while doing so? Now that we appear poised to lose much of the ground
women have gained over the last 40 years, many feminists have taken a cue from Trump and gone on an aggrieved
blaming binge of their own, chalking up the colossal political failures before us to the entrenched misogyny of America’s
voters. But that, too, is a fashionable distraction. The fault here lies with mainstream feminism itself. Over the past several
decades, the gap between mainstream feminists and the daily realities of most American
women has grown wider and deeper. Feminism, as our most prominent, mediagenic
feminists practice it, does little to address the struggles of poor women, rural women,
working women—women, in short, who live outside the sophisticated urban bubbles that
mainstream feminists inhabit. That gap was embarrassingly obvious in the aftermath of Hillary Clinton’s
defeat. Performance artist and feminist commentator Amanda Palmer, for one, proclaimed that the Trump presidency
would be really, really great for artists. “Having studied Weimar Germany extensively—I’m like, ‘This is our moment!’ ”
she exulted, right before announcing that she was moving to Australia. Girls star and feminist pundit Lena Dunham
hit the rock bottom of elite feminist cluelessness by cavalierly dismissing the emotional
and physical suffering of many women who have terminated unwanted pregnancies. “I
still haven’t had an abortion,” Dunham said on her podcast, “but I wish I had.” Must-reads. 5
days a week. Your email Sign Up Feminist commentators like Lindy West, Jessica Valenti, and Sady Doyle offered up a
nonstop litany of mass recrimination, insisting that Clinton lost solely because of our culture’s deep-seated racism and
misogyny. “Half of the country,” Rebecca Traister concluded in New York, “would prefer to return to the Founders’
original vision, with people of color and women on the margins and white men restored to their place at the center.” This
line of argument conveniently overlooks the more than 29 million women who voted for
Trump—women who felt they would be better served by a preening beauty-pageant
purveyor than by the most accomplished female politician of her generation. The root of
the problem is that feminism has abandoned its core insight. Radical feminists
traditionally believed that the patriarchy was inextricably intertwined with capitalism:
that the entire structure of our society was based on the exploitation of the poor, women,
and nonwhite races. The liberation of women entailed nothing less than the overthrow of
old systems based on competition, greed, and power. There is still a radical wing in feminism. Every
day, activists and organizers are working to improve women’s access to family planning services, mounting nonprofit
efforts to counteract the steady rollback of the welfare state, and combating the neoliberal policy consensus that consigns
But all that slow,
women—and men and children—to acute conditions of inequality and precariousness.
thankless work has been eclipsed by the more prominent voices of
mainstream feminism. To reclaim the truly radical spirit of American feminism, we should call mainstream
feminists something more anodyne: “pro-woman.” The designation seems fitting, since mainstream feminists work to
shore up the status quo, seeking equal access to the system of oppression. That explains why one of the buzzwords favored
by pro-woman commentators is self-empowerment—a term that gained currency on the right in the 1980s to characterize
the individual’s obligation to take responsibility for her position in life. Like much of the policy rhetoric of the Reagan and
Thatcher revolutions, “empowerment” provided a feel-good evasion of the consequences of a
society-wide breakdown in solidarity—and an excuse for overlooking all the ways that the
social order sets women and racial minorities up to fail. As the rest of the political mainstream shifted
in concert with the callow bootstrap social mythologies of Reaganism, so, too, did feminism: Workplace issues like
equal pay and parental leave took a backseat to enlightened self-care and success.
Second-wave feminist icon Gloria Steinem signaled this political sea change in her 1992
self-esteem tract Revolution from Within, and Oprah Winfrey expertly transmuted
feminist political grievance into soft-focus nostrums of self-acceptance, using her own
life story as a didactic case study in the miracles wrought by a gospel of female self-help.
In 2010, when Facebook COO Sheryl Sandberg launched the Lean In franchise, her individualist handbook of corporate
success, with a viral TED talk, she was mainly offering C-suite variations on what was by then a generation’s worth of self-
healing feminist counsel aimed at getting ahead and staying there. The pro-woman power elite peers deeply into the
savage inequalities of American life and asks, in essence, “Where’s my half of the profits?” Under the sway of “self-
empowerment,” feminist progress began to be measured accordingly: how many women serve as CEOs at Fortune 500
companies, or enjoy bylines at male-dominated magazines like The Atlantic, or gain admission to elite business schools.
Much of mainstream feminist discourse likewise focuses on how best to empower yourself via money and work. The pro-
woman power elite peers deeply into the savage inequalities of American life and asks, in essence, “Where’s my half of the
profits?” It was this single-minded pursuit that propelled Yahoo CEO Marissa Mayer into the state of corporate abjection
that she now cites as a feminist parable: While at Google, she recounts, she was so hell-bent on besting her male
competitors that she took to sleeping under her desk. But once she became the boss, she put a stop to employees working
from home—thus making it harder for working moms to balance employment and parenthood. Within this cloistered,
corporatized worldview, there’s precious little attention paid to what power should be used for, once it’s won, or what
values we want to see governing our world. Working in your own self-interest is mistaken for a political act, and accruing
money and power becomes an unquestioned feminist goal. Illustration by Luba Lukova Herein lies a partial answer to the
question of how Trump won a white female majority. Rightly or wrongly, the women who voted for Trump decided that it
was in their self-interest to do so. And under the current logic of mainstream feminism, a vote for
Trump can easily be depicted as a feminist act. “I have the right and capability to make
my own decisions, and live the life I choose for myself,” one female Trump supporter told
The Guardian. “A feminist does not blindly do what she is told—she thinks and makes
her own choices.” Well, of course—but this banal line of reasoning points to the very failures of the moral
imagination that have locked mainstream feminism into its present privileged dead-end. When feminism can be used as a
way to justify support for a candidate who boasts about groping women without their consent, and when broader female
access to executive perches in Wall Street and Silicon Valley gets treated as some sort of movement-wide victory, then
something clearly has gone wrong in our understanding of what feminism is and can do. Society progresses reluctantly,
only after a small group of the dedicated and the idealistic insist on it. Women won the right to vote in part because a
handful of suffragists endured imprisonment and torture. During the heyday of second-wave feminism, while most
women’s ambitions were confined to becoming wives and mothers, radical thinkers and reformers took up the fight
against unequal pay and sexual harassment in the workplace and limits on abortions. Today we must continue that fight—
not to place more women in the boardroom, but to construct ways of living and working that are measured by something
greater than money and success. After Hillary Clinton’s defeat, it may look like women lost because we dreamed too big. In
fact, women lost because we dreamed too small.
ALT FAILS—HIERARCHY
alt fails – hierarchical power dynamics persist even if the alt solves for
racial, ethnic, or national concerns
Shigematsu 18 (Setsu Shigematsu is Associate Professor at CHASS Interdisciplinary South at
Cornell University. “Rethinking Japanese Feminism and the Lessons of Uman Ribu: Toward a
Praxis of Critical Transnational Feminism.” P. 211-212 University of Hawaii Press. 2018.
https://www.jstor.org/stable/ j.ctv3zp07j.20) rr
In To Women with Spirit: Toward a Disorderly Theory of Women’s Liberation (Inochi no onnatachi e: Torimidashi ūman
ribu ron, 1972), Tanaka Mitsu describes a moment of physical harm and violence she inflicted on
another young activist named Sayama Sachi. Sayama joined ribu after running away from an abusive mother. In the
early 1970s, Tanaka and Sayama lived with other activists as members of ribu communes. On one occasion, Tanaka hit
Sayama for not properly turning off the gas.23 At the time, Tanaka was twenty-seven and Sayama was
nineteen. According to Sayama, Tanaka never apologized for how she treated her and the harm she
experienced in their relationship was never addressed or resolved. A de facto power hierarchy in
the movement arose despite ribu’s anti-hierarchical feminist politics.24 Sayama’s experience of the
power dynamics between them, as unequal and even abusive, continued decades later when
ribu activists reunited to work on publishing documents from the movement.25 In this case, the
differences of power between Tanaka and Sayama were not racial, ethnic, or national, since both
activists were Japanese women. However, their relative age, experience, writing skills, and
prestige in the nascent movement constituted differences of power. These power
differences were also gendered insofar as Tanaka became regarded as “the man” (a domineering
authority) and was called the “tennō” (emperor) of the movement by other feminists. After Tanaka left the
movement to live in Mexico, Sayama and several other women began to identify as lesbians.26 They felt
freer to do so because previously Tanaka’s authority had maintained the heteronormative
dominance within the movement. The homophobia and heteronormativity were forms of
micro-violence and aggression among ribu activists addressed by James Welker’s chapter in this volume.
Feminist leaders can become very invested in their authority and use
aggression and deploy other tactics to preserve their power. The root conflict
between these two feminist activists was not in their age/gender difference or relative difference of
power per se, but how that difference of power was expressed and negotiated. In many cases,
the differences of power a priori are not the source of the concern, but rather, what is troubling is how power
differentials are a means to (mis)treat, (dis) respect, and (de)value the other . Power difference
is not always an inherent problem; what is needed is the continual assessment of the effects of power differences. How are
power differences addressed, negotiated, and articulated, and an opportunity for mentoring or abuse? The inability and
refusal to work through, confront, take account of, and heal from such conflictual incidents
remain a feminist conundrum that causes the breakdown of relations in feminist
movements.
ALT FAILS—OVERSIMPLIFIES
The neg oversimplifies feminist ir theory – the strict binary works to
recreate the patriarchal hierarchy they seek to destroy
Stephan 14 ((Rita Stephan is a foreign affairs officer at the United States Department of State
and a visiting researcher for at the Center for Contemporary Arab Studies at Georgetown
University. “War and Gender Performance”. p. 5-7. International Feminist Journal of Politics.
http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/14616742.2013.8 49969) rr
The question of incentives here certainly applies to some women who were rewarded for their consent. Complying
with their gender roles made their evacuations safer and less traumatic. However, in most of the stories in
this article, men and women fall along a spectrum between hero and victim, rather than entirely as
one or the other. The protective masculine and vulnerable feminine model represents a
broad view that sometimes abstracts the changes that are taking place on the global level. Patriarchy
ought to be seen “not only as an arrangement of political institutions, but also, and perhaps even
primarily, as a broadly understood value system that revolves around identity constructs which support
and entrench gender-specific hierarchical visions of society” (Bleiker 2000, 32). Looking at the 2006 war
from the micro level, I find that the binary relationship that international relations feminists claim in their
model of patriarchal violence does not always apply, or applies only in a rigidly logical way. The stories in
this study show that women, men and children were all victims of military aggression. However, in some
cases, women were the only agents available to save the children; in other cases, representatives of the patriarchal order,
such as fathers or fathers-in-law, were either left behind or uninvolved. While the men did protect the womenandchildren
in some instances, women, who subscribed to their gender roles as mothers and wives, acted in instances
when men were impotent to act, thus in a sense protecting the men also. While some would argue
that these women’s performances lie outside the realm of gender norms, one could clearly see that
such binary distinction is not possible.
CASE TURNS THE K
Reducing arms sales is key to challenge gender-based violence and challenge
the masculine nature of weapons
Diack ’16 [Sarah, 09-xx-2016, "The Arms Trade Treaty from a feminist perspective,"
apropos, https://www.swisspeace.ch/apropos/the-arms-trade-treaty-from-a-feminist-
perspective/]//ARW
From the perspective of feminist peace policy, arms exports are fundamentally contradictory to the policy of “human
security”, which aims to reduce non-military threats such as social inequality, human rights violations, poverty, and
hunger. The Arms Trade Treaty (ATT) is the first internationally legally binding instrument ever to go some way towards
counteracting this imbalance: its goal is to alleviate human suffering through binding arms trade standards. As a feminist
peace organization, cfd is dedicated to fighting all gender-based violence (GBV), whether physical or psychological in
nature. Small arms in particular play a fatal role in cases of GBV [gender-based violence] such as
sexualized violence in war and domestic violence. Possession of arms is not gender-
neutral; it reflects power and gender relations that fuel violence and is still strongly linked to the
traditional image of masculinity, even though it is a long time since the modern man has needed weapons to prove his
virility. Yet, firearms continue to reinforce stereotypes and threaten and traumatize women. They
also drastically increase the propensity for violence. According to international comparative studies, people’s physical
safety and sense of security increase when access to arms is restricted. According to Article 7 of the ATT, the arms
trade is illegal if the weapons in question are being used, among other things, to facilitate
or promote serious gender-specific violence. The only way to guarantee a decrease
in GBV and other forms of violence is through consistent compliance with the provisions of the
treaty. Along with other NGOs, cfd is therefore calling for strict enforcement of the ATT, which has also been applicable to
Switzerland since April 2015. As the host country for the ATT’s permanent secretariat, Switzerland has a particular duty in
this respect.
FRAMEWORK—COST-BENEFIT ANALYSIS GOOD
Problem-oriented approaches to gender violence are necessary. Rational,
cost-benefit analysis centric politics are necessary and not determined by
gender, even if they’re informed by them
McNay 14 -- Professor of Political Theory at Oxford University and Fellow of Somerville
College, (Lois, The Misguided Search for the Political, 2014, p. 214-215)
What other features might a radical democratic theory possess that takes seriously the critique of social suffering? It
may be more fruitful to adopt an approach that, at least in the first instance, is
problem- rather than model-oriented. Radical democrats might do better to
develop principles from an initial focus on specific issues of social inequality,
rather than embark at the outset on a quest to distil the essence of the political and from
this derive models into which all concrete struggles are subsequently shoehorned . Of
course, any problem-oriented approach will unavoidably be 'influenced' by theoretical
presuppositions, but it won't necessarily be as ‘driven’ by the rigid logic of the model that
seems to flow from a one-sided focus on political ontology (see Shapiro 2007). It is, after all, a
problem-oriented approach that has informed many other types of radical theorizing, such
as feminism, and has made them suspicious of the formal abstractions of theory that
disregard the distinctiveness of certain group experiences (e.g. Martineau and Squires 2012).
Partly because of its established links with activism, feminist theorizing has more often
than not been propelled, in the first instance, by particular problems relating to
gender inequality and the marginalized experiences of women. Feminist political theorizing about
justice, for instance, starts with the problem of the gendered division of labour, and the undervaluing of women's care
work. It uses this sociological perspective to expose the conceptual deficiencies of asocial
individualism as a device for deriving principles of justice because of the way it obscures
human vulnerability and dependency and thereby fails to recognize care as a fundamental
element of social justice (Bubeck 1995; Fraser 1997; Kittay 1999). Others feminists think through issues of
democratic participation starting from the problem of the underrepresentation of women in [END PAGE 214] established
democratic structures, their effective political invisibility, which is a consequence of their vulnerable position as workers in
transnational production processes (e.g. Fraser 2008; Phillips 1991).
The hope is that a problem-oriented approach to radical democratic theorizing is less likely to
result in the marginalization of the actual and disregard of distinctive group experiences
than are approaches oriented to the issue of ontology. The difficulty with the latter
approaches is that the strategy of temporarily bracketing off social relations in order
to capture the essence of the political turns into a theoretical inability to reintroduce
excluded issues of power without violating the pristine foundational logic that they
claim to have identified. Consxequently, the logic of political ontology is given an
unwarranted primacy that effectively occludes the autonomy and specificity of social
relations and practices. Differently put, in so far as it lacks a sense of mediation, this political anti-
essentialism becomes an essentialism . Thus, Mouffe is unable to address substantive issues about
power that have a direct bearing on her model of democratic agonism because of a misplaced fear of falling into an
essentialism that would violate her rigid linguistic constructivism. Arendtian ideas of political action as creative
inauguration are famously empty, proscribing many issues of subordination and oppression by relegating them to the
realm of social necessity and, therefore, privacy. Although his ontology of abundance is more materialist in nature,
Connolly finds it hard to incorporate types of social experience or practice that do not
conform to his notions of creative becoming and dynamic assemblages. In all these cases,
social being is treated in a tokenistic and cipher-like fashion as simply yet another
empirical exemplification of foundational dynamics of indeterminacy.
Although it is not abstraction per se that causes socially weightless thinking, it may be
that radical democratic theory may be better placed to think about oppression by
deploying abstractions that are, at least in the first instance, sociological rather than
philosophical in nature. The aim of grounding political theory in sociological reconstruction
rather than ontological construction would be to, in Charles W. Mills’s words, 'reflect the
specificities of group experience, thereby potentially generating categories and principles that
illuminate rather than obfuscate the reality of different kinds of subordination'
(2005: 173; also Honneth 2012: 46-8).
FRAMEWORK—DIALOGUE/RATIONALITY GOOD
Debate guided by minimal guidelines is necessary to actualize feminist
goals---their critique of normative debate about the resolution recreates the
false-divide between reason and affect which excludes women from public
life to begin with
Sarah Sorial 11, Faculty of Arts, The University of Wollongong, Habermas, Feminism,
and Law, Ratio Juris. Vol. 24 No. 1 March 2011 (25–48)
In Between Facts and Norms , Jürgen Habermas develops a proceduralist model of law
that is grounded in deliberative procedures; these procedures are, in turn, grounded in a
system of rights that ensures equal rights of participation in the law making process.
Essential to this conception of legal legitimacy is that the deliberative and decision-
making procedures in question be guided by the discourse principle. The discourse
principle states that: “Just those action norms are valid to which all possibly affected
persons could agree as participants in rational discourses” (Habermas1998a, 138). This
new paradigm of law is intended to perform a number of different functions. It is
intended to move beyond both the liberal and welfare models of law, to re-establish the
lost connection between private and public autonomy, and to provide a normative
framework for thinking
about rights and oppression.
My primary aim in this paper is to assess the relevance of Habermas’ proceduralist
model of law for securing feminist objectives. I take these objectives to include the
analysis and critique of patriarchal institutions, concepts and relations; securing the
equal representation of women in public life; protection from rape, sexual harassment,
domestic violence, discrimination in education and the workplace, and the protection of
freedoms in general and reproductive freedoms in particular.1 I suggest that the
proceduralist model can be put to feminist ends in at least two significant ways. First, in
presenting an alternative to the liberal and welfare models of laws, the proceduralist
model offers feminism a way out of the equality/difference dilemma. Both
these attempts to secure women’s equality by emphasising women’s sameness to men or
their difference from men have placed the onus on women to either find a way of
integrating themselves into existing institutions or to confront the so-called question of
women’s difference.2 The proceduralist model renders this dilemma irrelevant. Instead,
it proceeds from the fact of sexual difference; a fact that produces competing and
conflicting needs and interests that require interpretation by both men and women.3
This, I argue, marks a change in the very way we conceptualise the so-called problem of
women’s difference, insofar as the question is no longer framed in these terms. Second, I
argue that this deliberative process over the interpretation of conflicting interests effects
a fundamental shift in the nature of legal institutions themselves, insofar as
law is no longer a vehicle for promoting male interests; a shift that feminists
have long thought necessary to achieve the aforementioned objectives.
My secondary aim is to defend the deliberative model of law from the charge that it is
inherently masculine, and thus, reproduces gender inequality. The emphasis on a public
life governed by reason and rights has been criticized on the grounds that it reproduces a
conception of public reason that has traditionally been used to exclude women. The
deliberative model also assumes that everyone who is affected by an issue has the
capacity to contribute to public debate. It thus ignores the various social, cultural and
familial constraints on one’s capacities to contribute to law making.4
These concerns over public reason, I suggest, not only rest on a misunderstanding of
Habermas’ account of communicative reason, but risk reproducing the very
binaries between reason and affect that have been used to exclude women
from public life.5 With reference to Habermas’ account of communicative rationality,
I demonstrate the way in which one’s ability to contribute to informal public debate does
not depend on one’s intellectual capacities, or education, as contended by these
criticisms, but merely depends on one’s capacity to give reasons—whatever they may
be—for one’s position by way of language. I also demonstrate the way in which these
criticisms fail to distinguish between the cultural and political spheres and between the
spheres of ethics and justice. I conclude by demonstrating the way in which Habermas’
model is actually closer to feminist concerns than feminists have traditionally
conceded.6
LINK TURN—GENERIC/HUMAN RIGHTS
Arms sales fuel violence against women particularly in
[India/Iraq/Mexico/Saudi Arabia/human rights violating countries]- the
affirmative reduces that
Le Ray ’18 [Laura, 02-26-2018, "Selling Arms is a Feminist Issue," CLANDESTINE,
https://women-politics.com/2018/02/26/selling-arms-is-a-feminist-issue/]//ARW
Because “women’s rights have been hijacked for the purposes of liberal
interventionists,”[1] Because selling arms is not a trade action like another, Because
selling arms should not be justified as an economic matter, a growth driver, a promotion
for defence industries, a diplomatic necessity, or a source of employment, Because
selling arms values business over human rights, because selling arms is ultimately a
political gesture, and because gender matters in politics, then selling arms is a feminist
issue which needs to be acknowledged. At first sight, the link between arms trade and
feminism may not be obvious. But thanks to recent legal developments there is a growing
awareness of the gendered impact of arms trade. Indeed, arms transfer can be directly
implicated in gender-based violence. For example when arms can be used to impose rape
as a weapon of war or to commit domestic violence or femicide. Arms trade can also have
an indirect negative impact on women’s equality and bargaining power within the
household, and on their participation in public and political life by hindering their
mobility, their access to resources and to employment opportunities. However, as
denounced in 2012 by the Committees on Arms Export Controls, Western powers
continue to prioritise investment, trapped in an “inherent conflict between strongly
promoting arms exports to authoritarian regimes whilst strongly criticising their lack of
human rights at the same time.”[2] This indecisive behaviour fuels a counterproductive
process, moving one step forward and two steps back, and this needs to change. In 2014,
the Arms Trade Treaty came into force, ratified by 94 countries. Under the action of
organisations such as the International Action Network on Small Arms (IANSA), a
gender dimension was included. Article 7(4) of the treaty makes it mandatory for arms
exporting countries to assess the risk that their weapons will be used in the commission
of gender-based violence and deny authorization of any sales that present an overriding
risk. However, there are no clear guidelines on the mechanism to assess whether any
transferred arms will contribute to gender-based violence. Consequently, many
signatories of the treaty like Germany are still selling arms to countries like India where
violence against women is rooted in gendered social structures, to Iraq where ISIS
specifically targets women for sexual slavery and forced prostitution, or to Mexico which
ranked 10th in cases of femicide perpetrated with firearms in 2015. Another example is
the British government which allowed £4.6bn arms sales with Saudi Arabia since 2015
while Saudi Arabia plays a leading role in the coalition intervention in Yemen where
women suffer disproportionately due to forced displacement, trafficking, lack of access to
health and destruction of houses, markets, etc.[3] Furthermore, in September 2017, the
US government signed a $593m arms deal with the Nigerian military, including the
supply of A-29 Super Tucano warplanes manufactured by Pratt and Whitney in Canada,
which will be part of the Nigerian Air Force, used in the past to bomb refugee camps.
Thus, Canada’s Trudeau-led ‘feminist’ government is arming one of the world’s most
repressive and anti-feminist governments. This inconsistency reveals a
“compartmentalised version of feminism,”[4] conveniently empowering local women but
without any true concern for the world’s women. Hence, in conflicts, crimes against
women are overlooked and ignored by Western leaders who stress the importance of
human rights and women’s rights but fall silent on these issues as soon as economic and
political interests are at stake. As observed by the IANSA’s women network, “the massive
international exports of guns sustain gender-based violence as a pillar of
international and national patriarchy.”[5] Yet, women’s security is directly related
to both national and international security. According to Valerie M. Hudson, “the very
best predictor of a state’s peacefulness is how well its women are treated.”[6] Thus, in
2014, Sweden launched its feminist foreign policy. Margot Wallström, the Swedish
Foreign Minister, promoted the idea that all of Sweden’s decision-making would be
informed by its vision for women’s empowerment, and that striving towards gender
equality should be a precondition to achieve wider security-policy objectives. Indeed, as
mentioned by Ann Bernes, Sweden’s Ambassador for Gender Equality at the Ministry for
Foreign Affairs, “you can’t be successful unless you apply a perspective where you look at
whole populations and whole societies. If you don’t do that, you’re partially blind.”[7] In
2015, Margot Wallström refused the cooperation on arms deal with Saudi Arabia and
denounced the Saudi authorities’ attitude to human rights ast incompatible with a
feminist foreign policy. However, this decision led to a diplomatic crisis. Wallström’s
decision was condemned by the Gulf Cooperation Council, and Saudi Arabia cut ties with
Sweden. This type of backlash against progress is intolerable, governments should not
have to choose between feminism and their foreign policy. A feminist perspective is not
an idealistic agenda interfering in the realpolitik power struggles between nations. It is
rather a method of analysis challenging the “Western dominant, realism-focused
approach to foreign policy” as explained by the Centre for Feminist Foreign Policy.[8] It
is time to focus on what can be done to bridge the gap between the rhetoric and practice
on the issue of arms trade and more broadly in the field of foreign policy. First of all, to
improve transparency around arms transfer and ensure the application of the ATT,
specific criteria need to be developed to assess whether arms transfers will contribute to
gender based violence. Furthermore, the political narrative legitimizing arms trade must
be deconstructed. Indeed, as observed by the Campaign Against Arms Trade, the “most
pervasive” justification is that of jobs. However, research shows that a move towards
offshore wind and marine energy could produce more employment than the arms
industry.[9] Then a key element to achieve feminist foreign policy is to promote women’s
political participation and leadership. Only feminist foreign policy will allow us to fully
understand the consequences of states’ decisions on human experience, such as arms
trade, and to create better and viable policies in theory and in practice.
LINK TURN—SAUDI ARABIA
Reducing arms sales to Saudi Arabia is a way to pragmatically reduce
violence against women and a goal of feminist foreign policy
Regehr 5-8 [Ernie, 05-08-2019, "Article Review 115 on “A Nation of Feminist Arms
Dealers? Canada and Military Exports.”," H-Diplo | ISSF,
https://issforum.org/articlereviews/115-feminist-arms-dealers]//ARW
Canadian military export policies came to unusual public attention following Canada’s
2014 agreement to sell $15 billion worth of armored vehicles to Saudi Arabia. The deal
was negotiated under the Conservative government of Prime Minister Stephen Harper
and was subsequently given official approval, through the granting of export permits, by
the Liberal Government of Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, who was elected in 2015. In
the debate that ensued, the greater indignation was reserved for the Liberals, who had
come to power on the promise of a return to multilateralism and re-engagement with the
United Nations—a posture that raised expectations of a renewed exercise of Pearsonian
internationalism [1] rather than of record-breaking arms sales to one of the world’s most
egregious violators of global human rights standards. Canadian military export policies
came to unusual public attention following Canada’s 2014 agreement to sell $15 billion
worth of armored vehicles to Saudi Arabia. The deal was negotiated under the
Conservative government of Prime Minister Stephen Harper and was subsequently given
official approval, through the granting of export permits, by the Liberal Government of
Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, who was elected in 2015. In the debate that ensued, the
greater indignation was reserved for the Liberals, who had come to power on the promise
of a return to multilateralism and re-engagement with the United Nations—a posture
that raised expectations of a renewed exercise of Pearsonian internationalism [1] rather
than of record-breaking arms sales to one of the world’s most egregious violators of
global human rights standards. Happily, the controversy also caught the attention of
Canadian academics. The University of Ottawa’s Srdjan Vucetic uses the occasion and
arms exports more broadly as a test case to explore the extent to which successive Liberal
and Conservative governments adhered to what had been a long-term foreign policy
consensus between Canada’s two primary political parties—one or the other of which
having led the federal government since World War II. In “A nation of feminist arms
dealers? Canada and military exports,” he asks three key questions. Have Liberal and
Conservative governments been equally permissive, or restrictive, in permitting
Canadian-built military commodities to go to destinations with records of serious human
rights and International Humanitarian Law (IHL) violations? How do Canadian military
export practices compare with those of like-minded states? And, notably, how have the
military export policies of the current Liberal government of Justin Trudeau been
impacted by its prominent embrace of feminism? On the latter question, the current
Canadian Foreign Minister, Chrystia Freeland, describes the Liberal government as
proudly feminist. She declares “women’s rights” to be “human rights,” and along with
“gender equality,” those rights are said to be at the core of the Government’s foreign and
international assistance policies.[2] Sweden’s Foreign Minister, Margot Wallstrom, was
the first to promote the idea of a “feminist foreign policy,” proffering it as a stand
“against the systematic and global subordination of women.” She sees advancement of
the rights and welfare of women as a “precondition” for achieving wider international
development and security policy objectives. Gender equality is put forward as a central
principle and regarded as a potent ingredient in combating terrorism and supporting
economic growth and public health.[3] The Saudi deal The language of a feminist foreign
policy is unequivocal and confidently progressive, making it reasonable to expect that
adherents to its tenets would be disinclined to support the sale of weapons of repression
and war to states best known for their systematic subordination of women. But both
Sweden and Canada have supplied arms to Saudi Arabia. In Canada’s case, when the
current Liberal government took power in 2015, Canada had for almost 30 years been
shipping Canadian-built armored vehicles to Saudi Arabia’s National Guard—the
National Guard’s key attribute being loyalty to the Royal Family, and its key mandate
being to protect the Saudi Royals from dissidents, coup attempts, and, ultimately,
democracy. The 2014 deal, the details of which emerged primarily due to the efforts of
non-governmental researchers and investigative journalists, drew unusual public
attention given its size, and also in response to persistent reports of Saudi violations of
international norms, both at home and in Yemen. As summarized by the Canadian
Broadcasting Corporation (CBC),[4] the deal committed General Dynamics Land
Systems-Canada (GDLS) of London, Ontario, a subsidiary of the US General Dynamics,
to deliver 928 armored vehicles, 354 of which were characterized as troop carriers, 119 as
“heavy assault” vehicles with 105 millimeter canons, another 119 as anti-tank vehicles,
with another 119 designated “direct fire” support vehicles with 30 millimeter chain guns,
the rest being ambulances, mobile command posts, recovery vehicles, and VIP
transporters. When the deal was signed, Prime Minister Harper called them “trucks,”
and when the export permits were granted, Prime Minister Trudeau called them “jeeps.”
The CBC uncovered an important detail that helped to explain the deal’s high dollar
value—namely, that the deal “involves a 14-year support program that covers
ammunition, crew ‘training in Canada/Europe’ and ‘embedded’ maintenance, with a fleet
management team in 13 workshops.”[5] Canadian military exports to human rights
violators Assessing Canadian exports to countries inclined to violate human rights and
IHL is not as straight forward as it should be. Canada reports on its annual exports of
military commodities (major systems as well as sub-systems, components, and parts) to
all destinations, with one major exception. It does not report on sales to Canada’s
number one customer, the United States.[6] And while some critics may quarrel with
America’s own record of respect for IHL in certain circumstances, the more immediate
problem is that major Canadian-built subsystems, like aircraft engines, and components
are incorporated into major military systems in the U.S. and then sold to third-party end
users, and Canada makes no effort to track those military sub-systems and commodities
to their final destination. Canadian reporting also does not include sales of civilian
systems (like helicopters with a civilian designation) to military end-users (for example,
Canadian-built civilian helicopters sold to the Pakistan military). All of which means that
Canadian-generated military export data are not easily compared with those of other
states. Vucetic thus relies on the standardized military transfer records developed by the
Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI)[7] rather than Canadian
reporting. That has its own challenges, since the SIPRI data includes only major systems
transfers—excluding small arms as well as subsystems. That means that most Canadian
military exports are not included in his analysis, but the focus on major systems,
including some civilian systems going to military end-users that SIPRI includes, affords
a credible and important window on Canadian military export decision-making. Vucetic
compensates for SIPRI’s exclusion of small arms by including data from the Norwegian
Initiative on Small Arms Transfers (NISAT).[8] Vucetic looks at Canadian military
exports 1970 to 2015, a period in which Liberals and Conservatives alternated as the
governing parties. While there were certainly fluctuations in levels of military exports
during that period, the data leads Vucetic to conclude that “the highs and lows of
Canada’s exports have little to do with the party in power” (507). He also compares
Canada’s overall military exports with those of two ‘like-minded’ countries, Sweden and
the Netherlands, both of which show higher exports than Canada; in Sweden’s case they
are significantly higher (Sweden’s industry is oriented to building major weapons
systems, while Canada is focused more on components and sub-systems, the majority of
which go to the U.S. and are not, as already noted, included in the SIPRI data). The
author also compares the records of the three countries in military sales to human rights
and IHL violating countries, with Vucetic including a clear explanation of the
methodology for measuring the human rights records of recipient states. The results
indicate that the three like-minded exporters have similar records for exports in the
years 1981-2010, but the data does suggest that Canada was slightly more inclined than
the other two to ship military commodities to serious human rights violator countries.
While 70 percent or more of arms transfers from Netherlands and Sweden went to states
with “very good” or “good” human rights records, in Canada’s case it was about 65
percent. Some 15 percent of Canadian military experts went to states with “bad” or “very
bad” human rights records, compared with 14 percent in the case of Netherlands and 10
percent for Sweden. Overall, however, Vucetic judges these three “global good
Samaritans” as having similar records. Throughout most of the 1981-2010 period,
Canada was exporting armored vehicles to Saudi Arabia, so it is likely that the Saudis
account for most of Canadian sales to states with problematic human rights records.
Export Guidelines, the ATT, and Feminist Foreign Policy Canada has now acceded to the
2013 Arms Trade Treaty (ATT)[9]—the ratification legislation having worked its way
through Parliament by late 2018. That begs an obvious question—will adherence to the
ATT bring Canadian military exports into closer alignment with what might be
reasonably expected from a feminist foreign policy? Vucetic puts it bluntly: “If, indeed,
the Canadian government truly wishes to help build gender-equitable
societies around the world, then a good place to start would be nixing
massive arms sales to countries with lousy records on women’s rights” (517).
At the close of 2018 some newspaper articles suggested that Canada was looking for ways
to terminate the current armored vehicle deal with Saudi Arabia,[10] but does that mean
that the ATT, and a feminist foreign policy, will shift decision-making in the future? The
ATT, among other provisions, reinforces the existing Canadian guideline on military
exports to countries with records of serious and persistent violations of human rights. In
neither case is there any broad prohibition based on a state’s overall record on human
rights. Rather, exports are to be restricted or prohibited if there is evidence of a serious
risk that the specific commodities being transferred will be used to violate human rights
or international humanitarian law. Canadian policymakers have formulated the principle
as follows: “Canada closely controls the export of military goods and technology to
countries whose governments have a persistent record of serious violations of the human
rights of their citizens, unless it can be demonstrated that there is no reasonable risk that
the goods might be used against the civilian population.”[11] The formulation of that
same principle in the Arms Trade Treaty comes in Article 6 (Prohibitions), sub-
paragraph 3: “A State Party shall not authorize any transfer of conventional arms…if it
has knowledge at the time of authorization that the arms or items would be used in the
commission of genocide, crimes against humanity, grave breaches of the Geneva
Conventions of 1949, attacks directed against civilian objects or civilians protected as
such, or other war crimes as defined by international agreements to which it is a Party.”
Article 7 (Export Assessment), paragraph 1. (b), (ii) requires that any export not already
prohibited under Article 6 be reviewed “in an objective and non-discriminatory manner,”
to “…assess the potential that the conventional arms or items…could be used to…commit
or facilitate a serious violation of international human rights law.” Paragraph 3 of Article
7 directs that if that assessment identifies an “overriding risk” that the military
commodity being exported would be used in the serious violations referred to in
paragraph 1 (for example, of international human rights law), then “the exporting State
Party shall not authorize the export.” In other words, neither Canadian guidelines nor
the ATT set out a general prohibition on the export of arms to states which are guilty of
serious and systematic human rights violations. They only prohibit the export of military
commodities when, at the time of the export, there is in the considered view of the
exporting state a serious risk that those particular commodities will be used against
civilians or in the violation of the laws of war or human rights. The usual rationale for
formulating the restriction in this conditional way is the assumption that even states
with serious records of human rights abuse have obligations to protect sovereignty and
territorial integrity. For example, Saudi Arabia has a long coastline and has an obligation
to patrol it, so under this formulation it would be regarded as legitimate to sell coastal
patrol vessels to Saudi Arabia on grounds that they are needed for national security and
that there is little risk that they would be used to violate the rights of Saudis. During the
negotiations of the ATT, many experts and non-governmental organizations (NGOs)
rightly advanced the view that any weapons sales to countries engaged in gross and
systematic violations of human rights should be prohibited, whether or not those
particular weapons were likely to be directly used to commit human rights violations, on
grounds that any weapons bolster state power and authority, the very authority that
systematically violates the rights of its people. That, however, is not the operating
principle in either the Canadian guidelines or the ATT. The current Liberal government
relied heavily on the principle that the ATT embodies when video clips emerged showing
that Canadian-built armored vehicles, or models just like them, were involved in
operations by Saudi Forces to quell dissent in the prominently Shia region of Al-
Awamiyah. The Government’s investigation found “no conclusive evidence that
Canadian made vehicles were used in human rights violations,”[12] and insisted there
was “no verified, credible information that Saudi security forces …committed serious
human rights violations in the conduct of the current operation in Al-Awamiyah,”
whether or not Canadian built armored vehicles were involved.[13] Critics found major
shortcomings in the investigations, and key NGOs called for a new, “independent,
external review into reports of misuse of Canadian military exports by Saudi Arabia.”[14]
As the Saudi deal suggests, Canadian guidelines and the ATT are likely to become
significant factors in producing a military export practice that honors feminist values and
stands against the subordination of women only when heightened political engagement
demands accountability. In February 2018 Foreign Minister Freeland announced that a
“substantial risk clause” would become part of Canadian law, meaning that the
Government “would need to ensure that [it has] a high level of confidence that [military]
exports will not be used to commit human rights abuses.”[15] The ATT also places a
major burden of proof on exporters to credibly assess risk, and that makes Article 13
(Reporting) a key provision of the ATT. It requires states parties to the Treaty to submit
annual reports of “authorized or actual exports and imports of conventional arms”
covered by the Treaty. Indeed, Article 5.5 calls for each state party to maintain a
“transparent national control system.” Transparency is key. Implementation of the
Treaty is primarily a political, not a legal or law-enforcement, challenge. There is no
sheriff to issue an arrest warrant if the Treaty is violated.[16] Implementation rests on
national assessments of risk, which, inevitably, are colored by competing national
interests, by international and regional entanglements and influences, and so on—
making it critically important that the interpretation process is transparent and exposed
to the light of public scrutiny, to the judgements and corrective interpretations of peer
states, to evidence gathered by NGOs and think tanks, and to the analysis of independent
researchers like Srdjan Vucetic. Neither declarations of feminist ideals nor the ATT will
quickly alter behaviour in the international arms trade, but with improved and persistent
public scrutiny and with clear demands for accountability of those who sell and authorize
the transfers of military commodities, clearly articulated ideals and clearly defined
Treaty obligations will constitute important new tools in the pursuit of restraint and
responsibility in that trade.
LEGAL ACTION GOOD
Legal action is effective in the context of sexual violence and challenges
traditional perceptions of rationality and objectivity
Catharine Mackinnon 17 (Catharine Mackinnon is an Elizabeth A. Long professor of
law at the University of Michigan, and the James Barr Ames Visiting Professor of Law at
Harvard Law School. April 17th, 2017, “Butterfly Politics”, pgs 61-62 //EH)
The question—can this state make change in women’s interest—arises in some form for all feminist
goals. The law against sexual harassment often seems to turn women’s demand to control
our own sexuality into a request for paternal protection, leaving the impression that it is
more traditional morality and less women’s power that is vindicated.26 Can organizing
prevent what has happened with rape, in which legal proof requirements reflect a vision
of the injury that is far from the actuality of rape, yet women tend to feel they have not
been raped if they could not prove it to the law’s satisfaction? The law against sexual
harassment has helped many women name their oppression and has reduced the stigma
of victimization. Restrictions on the cause of action and losses at trial could take back
this sense of legitimate outrage. Creating and pursuing a legal cause of action for the
injury of sexual harassment has revealed that different social circumstances, of which
gender is one, tend to produce different stakes, interests, perceptions, and cultural
definitions of rationality itself. This awareness neither reduces legal rules to pure relative
subjectivity nor principle to whose ox is gored.27 It does challenge the conception that neutrality,28
including sex-neutrality, with its correlate, objectivity, is adequate to the nonneutral, sexually objectified,
social reality women experience. It urges the priority of defining women’s injuries as
women perceive them. Andrea Dworkin has written: “One can be excited about ideas without
changing at all. One can think about ideas, talk about ideas, without changing at all,
people are willing to think about many things. What people refuse to do, or are not
permitted to do, or resist doing, is to change the way they think.”29 Whether traditional
legal approaches to discrimination are a way of thinking or something thought about, the
law may need to confront not only what, but also the way, it thinks about women to
achieve its commitment to sex equality.
It should be noted, however, that not all of the contributors to this special issue are in fact committed to the adoption of a
critical realist philosophical framework in this way. Gillman, Smirthwaite and Swahnberg, and Griffiths take something of
an outsider’s or newcomer’s perspective with regard to critical realist philosophy. While these authors relate to critical
realism as a framework of interest, none wholeheartedly subscribe to it. As editors of this special issue we were very
pleased to receive such contributions, as respectful engagements and interested conversations between critical realists and
proponents of perspectives that are more commonly adopted by feminist theorists and gender scholars have unfortunately
continued to be few and far between. Sue Clegg, Dimitri Mader and Michiel van Ingen, however, clearly write much more
from within the parameters of critical realist philosophy, using its meta-theoretical framework as a means of making
interventions in important feminist debates. Although Clegg, in her piece on intersectionality, does engage in some
(critical) conversation with popular poststructuralist versions of intersectional theorizing, for instance, the main purpose
of her article is to use critical realism as a philosophical underlabourer in order to think through various issues currently
arising in discussions about intersectional theory, particularly the relationship between structure and agency. Mader’s
contribution also centres on the structure/agency problematic and, like Clegg, draws especially on Margaret Archer’s
work. However, whereas Clegg explicitly intervenes in intersectionality theory, whose proponents
foreground the multiplicity of different forms of positioning and are often
suspicious of an exclusive focus on gender, Mader’s contribution implicitly challenges the
‘intersectional imperative’ (Wiegman 1999, 376) by focusing on the gendered power structure in
abstraction from other power relations . There is therefore a crucial (if not explicit) philosophical
link between Clegg’s and Mader’s contributions, insofar as the former, while being mainly concerned with intersectionality
theory, also argues in favour of engaging in exactly the kind of non-intersectional, ‘separatist’ (Gunnarsson 2015, 10)
theoretical projects that Mader’s article exemplifies with its in-depth focus on gendered dominance. Such feminist
endeavours, which seek to trace the basic causal mechanisms of patriarchy, have
been increasingly difficult to carry out in the contemporary theoretical climate, and
this is in significant part due to both the aforementioned intersectional imperative and the more general poststructuralist
taboo on structural forms of theorizing.
Importantly, however, it is not intersectional forms of theorizing as such that are considered problematic by critical realist
authors such as Clegg and Mader. The basic intersectional claim that social situations, identities and
practices are conditioned by a range of intersecting power relations is arguably
indisputable . Indeed, it is telling that authors and activists who persist in ignoring that this is the case are
generally those who are subordinated only in terms of one, or no, social axis of power. However, while analyses of
how different power relations and categorizations complexly intersect are pivotal, they do not
allow us to do the equally important work of theorizing, in an in-depth and
abstracted manner, the basic causal mechanisms that are exercised by the
social/cultural structures that are ‘doing’ the intersecting at a concrete level (cf. Walby,
Armstrong and Strid 2012; Martinez Dy, Martin and Marlow 2014; Gunnarsson 2015). As Clegg shows, however, the
stratified ontology of critical realism provides helpful forms of support for theorists who wish to carry out analyses at
different levels of abstraction. That is to say, it facilitates intersectional analysis where it is needed in order to understand
the multi-layered fabric of social life, while not closing the door to ‘nonintersectional’ analyses that focus on how one
specific categorical and structural dimension of this social life causally affects a situation of interest. What sets Mader’s
contribution to theorizing gender-based domination apart from secondwave, single-issue feminist theory, however, is its
engagement with contemporary debates, reflected in the explicit incorporation of the implications of his work for
intersectional analyses.
Intersectionality thus continues to be a topic of significance for the development of critical realist feminism. In her review of Vivian May’s book Pursuing Intersectionality, Unsettling Dominant
Imaginaries (2015), for instance, Angela Martinez Dy contextualizes May’s discussion of the intersectional turn away from structural theory in the history of the philosophy of science and the
feminist turn towards poststructuralism. She then points to various possibilities for a realist development of intersectional theory that affirms its key role in social analysis. For example, whereas
May sees the critical realist imperative to retain the validity of categories like ‘woman’ (Gunnarsson 2011) as possibly promoting a problematic gender-first logic, Martinez Dy argues that a critical
realist approach, informed by the body of knowledge on intersectionality reviewed in detail in May’s book, can be used to develop the meanings of the categories themselves to allow for much
greater complexity and nuance. In her review of Susan Hekman’s book The Feminine Subject (2014), Alison Assiter similarly addresses what she sees as the problematic tendency of certain
feminist and gender studies approaches to emphasize differences among women over and against those features that they have in common. Whereas poststructuralist scholars have sought to retain
‘women’ as a politically necessary category by means of ‘strategic’ essentialism (Spivak 1987) and the like, Assiter does not shy away from talking about a real ‘universal essence to women’, in the
simple sense of ‘characteristics in virtue of which women are described as women’ (p. 549). While Assiter does not specify the precise role of biological as opposed to social/ cultural forms of
determination in this respect, Martinez Dy points out that the stratified, emergentist critical realist view can account for the significance of biological factors, while avoiding determinism and
reductionism. Her argument thereby engages in an implicit dialogue with Griffith’s contribution, which favours the adoption of a sceptical approach towards the work of critical realist authors
(especially New 2005) who have sought to maintain clear distinctions between sex and gender as well as between the (two) sexes, as such distinctions are at odds with prominent queer
perspectives that reject the postulation of stable foundations for gendered identities. As Griffith’s article illustrates, queer theorists tend to see the existence of both intersex and trans persons as
evidence of the indeterminacy of biological sex. Critical realists, instead, have sought to retain the notion of a structuring biological foundation, interpreting the diversity of gender expressions not
as something that undermines structuredness but as something that demonstrates that (relative) structuredness can co-exist with (relative) variety and irregularity (Hull 2006; Gunnarsson 2013,
2014).
In conclusion, feminist theory has long acknowledged the importance of situated knowledges (or, in
critical realist terms,epistemic relativism ), and has called for the coming together of
various different vantage points so that reality may be better understood . We hope
that this special issue puts such ideas into practice, and that it illustrates how multiple philosophical
perspectives, when placed into conversation with each other, can help us to achieve
a synergetic end that is greater than the sum of its parts . Although there are some
empirical aspects to the pieces that have been included, the contributions in this volume primarily have a theoretical
theoretical ground-
thrust. This is intentional. One final aim of this special issue is for it to engage in a kind of
clearing that reconciles tensions, points out commonalities, and signposts
promising paths, in an attempt to take us just a few steps further through the
forest of conflicting feminist perspectives , both extant and emerging. We hope that the pieces that
are included here encourage the use of critical realist philosophy, in dialogue with feminist and gender theory, so that new
and stimulating forms of theoretical and empirical research may take place.
control of the arguer over events by promoting understanding of them. Second, the use of causal
reasoning increases rigor of analysis and fairness in the decision-making process. Third, causal
arguments promote understanding of the philosophical paradox that presumably
good people tolerate the existence of evil. Finally, causal reasoning supplies good reasons
for “commitments to policy choices or to systems of belief which transcend whim, caprice, or the non-reflexive “claims
of immediacy” (117-9). Rhetorical proof plays an important role in the analysis of causal relationships. This is true despite the common
assumption that the identification of cause and effect relies solely upon empirical investigation. For Zarefsky, there are three types of causal reasoning. The first type of causal reasoning
describes the application of a covering law to account for physical or material conditions that cause a resulting event This type of causal reasoning requires empirical proof prominent in
scientific investigation. A second type of causal reasoning requires the assignment of responsibility. Responsible human beings as agents cause certain events to happen; that is, causation
resides in human beings (107-08). A third type of causal claim explains the existence of a causal relationship. It functions “to provide reasons to justify a belief that a causal connection
exists” (108). The second and third types of causal arguments rely on rhetorical proof, the provision of “good reasons”
to substantiate arguments about human responsibility or explanations for the existence of a causal relationship (108). I
contend that the practice of intercollegiate debate privileges the first type of causal analysis. It reduces questions of human motivation
exacerbates the problems of the urban poor in the United States," also had its share of
patri- archy cases. Affirmatives typically argued that women's dependence upon a
patriarchal welfare system results in increasing rates of women's poverty. In addition to these
concrete harms to individual women, most affirmatives on both topics, desiring "big impacts," argued that the effects of
patriarchy include nightmarish totalitarianism and/or nuclear annihilation. On the negative, many debaters countered with arguments that the
some aspect of the resolution in some way sustains or energizes the feminist movement in resistance to patriarchal harms. For example, some negatives argued that sexist advertising
provides an impetus for the reinvigoration of the feminist movement and/or feminist consciousness, ultimately solving the threat of patriarchal nuclear annihilation. likewise,
debaters negating the welfare topic argued that the state of the welfare system is the key issue around
which the feminist movement is mobilizing or that the consequence of the welfare system - breakup of the
patriarchal nuclear family -undermines patriarchy as a whole. Such arguments seem to have two assumptions
in common. First, there is a single feminism. As a result, feminists are transformed into
Debaters
impacts causally related to a single link will "outweigh" opposing claims in the mind of the judge. In this sense, debate arguments themselves are conventional.
entity, not as a pluralized movement or theory, that single entity results in the identification of patriarchy as
the sole cause of oppression. The result is ignorance of the subject position of the
particular feminist author, for highlighting his or her subject position might draw
attention to the incompleteness of the causal relationship between link and impact
Consequently, debaters do not challenge the basic assumptions of such argumentation and ignorance
of feminists is perpetuated. Feminists are not feminism. The topics of feminist inquiry are many and varied, as are the
philosophical approaches to the study of these topics. Different authors have attempted categorization of various feminists in distinctive ways. For example, Alison Jaggar argues that
feminists can be divided into four categories: liberal feminism, marxist feminism, radical feminism, and socialist feminism. While each of these feminists may share a common commitment
to the improvement of women's situations, they differ from each other in very important ways and reflect divergent philosophical assumptions that make them each unique. Linda Alcoff
presents an entirely different categorization of feminist theory based upon distinct understandings of the concept "woman," including cultural feminism and post-structural feminism. Karen
Offen utilizes a comparative historical approach to examine two distinct modes of historical argumentation or discourse that have been used by women and their male allies on behalf of
women's emancipation from male control in Western societies. These include relational feminism and individualist feminism. Elaine Marks and Isabelle de Courtivron describe a whole
category of French feminists that contain many distinct versions of the feminist project by French authors. Women of color and third-world feminists have argued that even these
improving the situation of women" (Jaggar and Rothenberg xii), while others have resisted the notion of a single definition of feminism, bell hooks
observes, "a central problem within feminist discourse has been our inability to either arrive
at a consensus of opinion about what feminism is (or accept definitions) that could
serve as points of unification" (Feminist Theory 17). The controversy over the very definition of feminism has political implications. The power to define is
the power both to include and exclude people and ideas in and from that feminism. As a result, [bjourgeois white women interested in women's rights issues have been satisfied with simple
definitions for obvious reasons. Rhetorically placing themselves in the same social category as oppressed women, they were not anxious to call attention to race and class privilege (hooks.
and empower the voices of race- and class-privileged women while excluding and
silencing the voices of feminists marginalized by race and class status. This position becomes clearer when
we examine the second assumption of arguments about feminism in intercollegiate debate - patriarchy is the sole cause of oppression. Important feminist thought has resisted this
subjugation of resistance to other forms of oppression like racism and classism to the struggle against sexism. Such
subjugation has the effect of denigrating the legitimacy of resistance to racism and classism as struggles of equal importance. "Within feminist movement in the West, this led to the
assumption that resisting patriarchal domination is a more legitimate feminist action than resisting racism and other forms of domination" (hooks. Talking Back 19). The relegation of
identifying patriarchy as
struggles against racism and class exploitation to offspring status is not the only implication of the "sole cause" argument In addition,
allows mainstream feminists to abdicate responsibility for the exercise of class and
race privilege. It casts the struggle against class exploitation and racism as secondary
concerns. Current debate practice promotes ignorance of these issues because debaters appeal to conventional form, the expectation of judges that they will isolate a single link to
a large impact Feminists become feminism and patriarchy becomes the sole cause of all evil. Poor causal arguments arouse and fulfill the expectation of judges by allowing us to surrender
colonization of certain feminist voices. Arguing feminism in debate rounds risks trivializing feminists. Privileging the act of speaking about
feminism over the content of speech "often turns the voices and beings of non-white women into commodity, spectacle" (hooks, Talking Back 14). Teaching sophisticated causal reasoning
enables our students to learn more concerning the subject matter about which they argue. In this case, students would learn more about the multiplicity of feminists instead of reproducing
we
the marginalization of many feminist voices in the debate itself. The content of the speech of feminists must be investigated to subvert the colonization of exploited women. To do so,
capacitate us to act for change, I reconsider Frantz Fanon's essay "Concerning Violence" in The Wretched of the Earth. In
that essay he describes decolonization, particularly the process by which the native sheds the colonizer's values and the colonizer's ways. I
understand that my black and Latina sisters in the United States experience a rage against the economic and racial violence
perpetrated every day against them; in a way that is similar to what Fanon describes: this rage knows its resolution lies in a complete
change of the economic order in which we live. At the same time, I must ask
what kind of rage it would be that
would effectively contest women's oppression--given all the levels at which gender inequality and women's
oppression is articulated in social and personal life. What Fanon describes to us is a specific historical moment at which mental colonization
can be and is surpassed. As I look at women's mental colonization, I see our internalized sense of powerlessness, our articulation into
masochistic structures of desire, and our playing out of personae that on the surface seem "passive," "self-defeating," "irrational,"
"hesitant," "receptively feminine," or even "crazy." Much of this behavior stems from internalized and suppressed rage. Fanon describes
such behavior in the colonized and posits active rage, the violent response to violence, as its cure. What would the overturning of male
supremacy and women's colonization mean to women? How would it be accomplished? Fanon understands that a whole social structure
and a new kind of person must come into being, and that those with privilege know, fear, and resist this. His call to armed struggle, based
on the very clear demarcations and abuses of power that the native always sees, signals
a survival struggle that does
not characterize the war between the sexes . As I read Fanon for what he can teach me about women's
resistance to oppression in nonrevolutionary society, I read him as a communist psychiatrist talking about how social movements can
change the mentality of the oppressed. When I ask about revolution for women now, minimally I see that our contestation cannot be
conducted in the mode of nice girls, of managing the egos of and patiently teaching those who oppress, which is a skill and duty we learned
from our mothers in the domestic sphere. If we do so, once again we will be placed in that very role of "helpmate" that we are trying to
overcome. Angry contestation may take us the extra step needed to overcome our own
colonized behavior and tardy response. Let me now rewrite for you parts of Fanon's essay to show its power when discussing the
relation between psychological and social change. The distance between the violence of colonization and its
necessary response in armed struggle, and the emotional rage I am referring to here in
combating sexism, marks the distance between the periphery and the center of international
capitalism. By using Fanon in this way, I do not wish to co-opt him for the women's movement but to learn from him, just as I learned from
the Nicaraguan women's courage and tenacity. If women must learn to be openly angry, we must learn to draw links between ourselves and
those who are more oppressed, to learn new methods of struggle and courageous response. Combating women's oppression as we know it is
a historical process: that is to say, it cannot become intelligible or clear to itself except in the exact measure that we can discern the
movements that give it historical form and content. Combating women's oppression is the meeting of two intrinsically opposed forces,
which in fact owe this originality to that sort of substantification that results from and is nourished by the social construction of gender. The
husband is right when he speaks of knowing "them" well--for it is men who perpetuate the function of wife. Men owe the reproduction of
their bodies and psyches to the family. Feminist revolution never takes place unnoticed, for it influences individuals and modifies them
fundamentally. It transforms passive femininity crushed with inessentiality into privileged agency under the floodlights of history. A new
kind of woman brings a new rhythm into existence with a new language and a new humanity; combating women's oppression means the
veritable creation of new women who become fully human by the same process by which they freed themselves. Feminists who decide to put
their program into practice and become its moving force are ready to be constantly enraged. They have collectively learned that this narrow
world, strewn with prohibitions, can only be called into question by absolute contestation. The sex-gender system is a world divided into
compartments. And if we examine closely this system of compartments, we will at last be able to reveal the lines of force it implies and to
mark out the lines on which a nonoppressive society will be reorganized. At
the level of individuals, anger is a
cleansing force. It frees the woman from her inferiority complex and from despair and inaction; it makes her fearless and restores
her self-respect. At this point I will stop citing from and reworking Fanon, deliberately at the point of
individual rage. Now is a time when we need to work in coalitions, but we must be very
honest about what divides us and what are the preconditions we need before we can
work together. I have made the decision to work in leftist and feminist cultural work and in Latin American solidarity work. I think
in all our strategies we must analyze the relation of that strategy to feminist, antiracist, and anti- imperialist demands. Women comprise
over half the population; any class issues in the United States are intimately tied to the question of racism; we all live off the labor of
workers, often underpaid women, in the Third World; and socialist revolution is being waged very near us. Personally, I know that it is by
my contact with Nicaraguan women, who insist that men and women must struggle together for our mutual liberation, that I have been
politically and emotionally renewed. The problems grow more acute. We know that the Right is racist, homophobic, and sexist. We in the
women's movement must stop turning our anger against each other and learn the most
effective ways to work together for social change. We can focus our anger and
harness it, but to do that we must clearly analyze cause and effect. If theory
accompanies anger, it will lead to effective solutions to the problems at hand. We have great
emotional and social power to unleash when we set loose our all too often suppressed rage, but we may only feel free to do so when we know
that we can use our anger in an astute and responsible way.
STATE KEY
The K totalizes the state and legal reform—that dooms praxis
Helander, 15—University of Gothenburg, Department of Cultural Sciences (Disa,
“Making feminist arguments against borders and regulated migration,”
https://gupea.ub.gu.se/bitstream/2077/40548/1/gupea_2077_40548_1.pdf, dml)
De Genova does not spell out any concrete strategies of action, apart from his
argument against struggling through citizenship or seeking recognition from the state in the
form of citizenship, since this, he argues, would reinscribe the legitimacy and necessity of
the state, as well as undermine the wider struggles by domesticating insurgent
energies within the orbit of the state (De Genova 2007:441-2). Struggling through or for citizenship is also, in
De Genova's view, a symptom of still being caught within methodological nationalism and methodological stasism (De
Genova 2013). However, as I have already discussed in my analysis of Agamben, since it is very difficult and dangerous to
live without authorisation, not least in a very formalised society such as Sweden (Hellgren 2014), in my view it is
untenable to maintain a strategy of non-engagement with the state . Dimitris
Papadopoulos and Vassilis Tsianos (2013:193) speak of their collaborator, Sapik, who chose to return to a life without legal
not everyone could make that
status in Greece instead of obtaining residence permit in Germany; but
choice. Who can live with that insecurity? What if you really need the security of legal status as a
guarantee that you will not be deported, so that you can start processing your traumas? What if you have your children
with you? What if you need to know you can stay in order to imagine a future? Obtaining a residence permit is the top
priority of most people I know who live without legal status, and the struggle to obtain it cannot be
dismissed as in vain, as misguided, or as wrong. For all the problematic
implications of seeking recognition and permission from the state, one cannot
dismiss the immediate necessity of doing so for those who are currently
refused it . From my experience, we have to engage with the state even if we do not
like it. We have to try to obtain residence permits for those who do not have it but who want it. People's lives
must, when in conflict, stand above a principled opposition to the state and to
citizenship. We also have to engage with the state in making education, health care and other social services available
to everyone, independent of their migration status. Then of course, as I argue elsewhere, we must think about
how we engage with the state, on what terms, and what arguments we use (see
for example McNevin 2013 and Walia 2013:182-7 for the same kind of arguments).
In addition, as Tanya Basok, Danièle Bélanger and Eloy Rivas (2014:1397) observe, 'when migrant workers attempt to minimise the disciplinary power of the deportation regime, they engage in
practices of discipline and self-discipline and thereby co-construct the deportation regime'. This points to the difficulty of avoiding, escaping or standing outside of the reach of the state and the
border-regime, and thus the need for strategies that provide ways of being in them, of changing them and of dealing with them, rather than arguing, as De Genova implies, that we have to refrain
from engaging with them. Moving on to my second topic, reading De Genova's arguments through the embodied lives of unauthorised migrants and through feminist theory, points to at least one
issue that warrants further attention: how borders and deportability are entangled with other power structures. The fact that De Genova does not discuss this, except race, to which he does pay
attention, means that he does not provide enough means of understanding how people are differently targeted by borders and deportability. They do indeed target people differently and people are
varyingly vulnerable to them. For example, Tanya Golash-Boza and Pierrette Hondagneu-Sotelo (referred to in Doering-White et al. 20147 ) argue that there is a 'gendered racial removal program'
in the US particularly targeting Mexican and central american men. Furthermore, appearance makes people more or less vulnerable. Writing about 'white space' (and nations might be imagined as
such), Ahmed (2007:161-3) argues that some bodies are more easily identifiable as 'out of place', as 'strangers', that some bodies – more than others – encounter resistance when moving through
space and are 'stopped'. When it comes to in-state enforcement of immigration law, Kate Hepworth (in Villegas 2015:188) argues that '[a]n individual may be identified as out-of-place through
somatic traits such as race, as well as through more intimate, emplaced relations: through how that body behaves in place […] how the body is clothed […] the activities in which it is engaged […]
its emplacement in time or space and the manner of that emplacement'. Other factors may also increase the general vulnerability of lacking legal status. As Paloma Villegas shows, precarious legal
status might make women and LGBTIQ-people more vulnerable to harassment and deportation, since they cannot, in cases of harassment or violations, fight back, challenge it or report it to the
authorities in they way they could have done if their legal status was secure, which perpetrators might know and exploit (Villegas 2015:191-2). Depending on class, racialisation and other factors,
people also have different possibilities to 'pass' as a citizen or as having legal status (see for example Villegas 2015:188). If, as Catherine Dauvergne puts it, '[w]e imagine illegals as poor and brown
and destitute' (in Villegas 2015:186), those who are read as such are at greater risk of being stopped in internal border controls. Those who do not 'stand out' or who can pass as legal, are not safe,
but safer. As a friend of mine explained, when he was 'illegally' travelling through Europe to get to Sweden, if it were not for his light skin tone he might not have been able to pass unnoticed. He
said people probably read him as Italian rather than Afghan. Or as another person told me, when encountering police officers checking IDs as part of the internal border controls, the fact that he
had a girlfriend whose 'Swedishness' was never questioned and that they spoke Swedish with each other, meant that he was not stopped while most other negatively racialised people were.8 Paying
attention to how borders and deportability affect and target people differently provides more complex accounts of how they work, and is also necessary when it comes to strategy. It shows that
people have very different possibilities for dealing with deportability and for subverting borders, that people might need different strategies for coping with it. Further, it also suggests that
deportability and borders produce more than just docile workers, which is what De Genova focuses on. For instance, they produce women, LGBTIQ-people, or racialised people who are unable (or
less able) to respond to, challenge or report harassment, hate-crimes or other forms of violence or injustices committed against them; they produce whiteness by encouraging people to pass, and by
disproportionally deporting people otherwise racialised; and they make LGBTIQ people pass as straight and gender-conforming in order to avoid exposing themselves to dangerous situations.
Moving on, I will now read De Genova's arguments through the context of asylummigration. De Genova primarily discusses migration through labour, but reading him in the context in which I am
active – where most of the unauthorised migrants I meet have migrated primarily in order to claim asylum – provides a more complex account of how the state, borders and regulated migration
work, and how they are entangled with other power structures. For many working within the 'autonomous migration' approach, which De Genova does, it is a conscious decision to resist 'the
heterogenising practices of state regulation of mobility' which divides it into different 'types' of migration, for example labour, asylum or family, and instead they 'attempt[...] to articulate their
commonalities' (Papadopoulos & Tsianos 2013:185). I maintain, however, that despite the intentions, this homogenising entails a risk of losing critical insight. As mentioned in the introduction,
'the refugee' is imagined as a man fleeing persecution by a totalitarian state and seeking asylum in the liberal, tolerant states of the West (Anderson 2013:55-6). This means that people fleeing from
something that does not fit well into this idea often have troubles being recognised. Gender and sexuality often pose particular problems to obtaining recognition (which is not to say that it is
otherwise easy). In order to think about recognition I turn to Bulter, even though her work on recognition is not specifically about asylum it is still applicable in this context. The process of deciding
who is recognizable, or trustworthy, as human, and specifically who fulfils the requirements for asylum, is governed by the language and norms that frame this situation, and by the narrative
capacity for giving a legible account (see for example Butler 2005:12). As Butler argues, 'there is a language that frames the encounter, and embedded in that language is a set of norms concerning
what will and will not constitute recognizability' (Butler 2005:30). I must conform, among other things, to the norms of narration and causality, as well as the categories, classifications and
identificatory schemas that govern this situation, which in the context of asylum are not only specifically western and liberal, but also specifically legal. If you are, for instance, seeking asylum on
the basis of sexuality you must also be recognisable as say, a lesbian. You must tell your story in a chronological narrative, use a language and reasoning which is understood, and conform to the
adjudicators' conceptions of how for example 'lesbians', 'trans*people', or 'women' are, look and act, conceptions that are sometimes narrowly western, middle-class, heteronormative and liberal,
and sometimes, on the contrary, racialised conceptions about what, for example, 'Muslim women' do or look like. As Katherine Fobear (2014:52) puts it: 'the effort to prove to the adjudicators that
they belong to a sexual and/or gender minority becomes heavily racialized and classed. Sexual exceptionalism works by first glossing over the boundaries of gender, race, and class formations and
then implicitly privileging white and western gay norms'. There are innumerable examples. Lesbians can be denied asylum because they do not look 'lesbian', because they have children, or
because they do not show any interest in 'lesbian culture' (Lewis 2013). In my experience LGBTIQ-people may be rejected because they cannot provide a narrative account of when they first
realised that they 'were' LGBTIQ or reflect in sufficiently elaborate ways on their sexuality/identity. People may be refused because it is not deemed credible that a woman in a patriarchal society
would defy her husband, or because the asylum adjudicators are unable to recognise that men can also be victims of honour-violence. The asylum-system is part of the production of worlds and
nations. It produces identities, performances, discourses and representations, enacted both by asylum-seekers and their supporters and by the state. Sima Shakhsari (2013:568) argues that '[i]n
order to present a successful and legitimate claim to asylum officers, the refugee/asylum seeker often has to repeat a story that inevitably demonizes the “home country”' and Lewis claims, '[i]n the
context of refugee law, states will only grant political asylum to women who appear vulnerable either because they are openly lesbian or because they are foreign women in need of rescue from
oppressive patriarchal – read third world – cultures' (Keenan 2011:39 in Lewis 2013:180). Similarly, Fobear (2014:53) argues that '[i]n order to prove persecution, sexual and gender minority
claimants may have to inferiorize and pathologize their ethnic, religious, or cultural communities in order to fit into Canada's national fantasies of being a safe haven to marginalized populations'.
Further, through the state's management of 'the political and cultural production of refugee identities in public sphere', presenting refugees (particularly women) as victims and Canada as the
'white knight' saviour, 'the whiteness of Canadian settlement is maintained through the othering of refugees as inherently separate to the nation' (Fobear 2014:51). This demonises and inferiorises
places that people have fled from and elevates the receiving states above such things, 'produc[ing] a discursive erasure of the very real forms of heterosexism and homo/transphobic violence
present in Canada [and other asylum-receiving places in the Global North] today' (2014:53). Thus, attending to asylum, and in particular to the problems facing many women and LGBTIQ-people
seeking asylum, demonstrates two interrelated things: borders produce particular forms of gender and sexuality, and the state gains more than just capital accumulation. The state produces itself
as 'modern', 'tolerant' and 'generous', differentiating itself from 'other' 'backwards', 'intolerant', 'uncivilised', 'oppressive' places. Asylum plays a significant role in the production of the national
self-image as well as in geopolitics (manifested in, for example, the principled acceptance – or rejection – of all asylum-seekers from a particular country in order to make a point about the
situation in that country of origin) (Shakhsari 2013; Fobear 2014; Luibhéid 2005:xvii; Anderson 2013).
Reading De Genova's arguments through feminist theory and through material contexts, it
becomes clear that his view on the state and borders as having only one, or at least one
primary , objective and logic – capital – needs to be complicated . Firstly, as the wealth of
scholarship on intersectionality has made clear: various power structures are entangled/intraact, and to understand how
capitalism, economic exploitation and borders work, one has to attend to how they are entangled with, say, race, gender,
sexuality, ability and nationality. Secondly, as I discussed above in the section on Agamben, objects – the state, or
borders – are not singular, unitary, coherent 'things', but complex and
contradictory sets of patternings, promises and projections (Berlant 2006) or
'phenomena' in 'intra-action' (Barad 2003). This is not only a theoretical argument but is also apparent
empirically. The state consists of a great variety of departments, branches, agencies,
civil servants, locations, layers, practices and promises, and surely all of these
sometimes have disparate objectives and sometimes do things that have
completely contradictory outcomes . The same goes for borders. The state and borders may
have several objectives and outcomes – facilitating capital accumulation, securing legitimacy among its
inhabitants, securing continued governance for the incumbent parties, and creating a favourable standing in the
international arena – while individual civil servants may have other priorities , such as keeping their
job, advancing their career, keeping budget, or even using their position to do as much good as possible. Sometimes
these go hand in hand, but sometimes they do not. To properly understand how
borders work – and consequently to make good arguments and strategies against
them – we must properly take into account how they are entangled with multiple
power structures, how they may serve various different objectives on part of
the state, and how both the state and borders are internally complex and
contradictory .
Thus, borders produce not only an exploitable labour-force, but also a range of other subjects. As
Anderson et al. (2009:7) argue, '[i]t is not only “hard workers” who are produced at the border. “Good wives” who do not
challenge patriarchal families, “straight guys and gals” who adhere to correct sexual scripts, “good parents” whose
parenting accords with the requirements to produce “good children” are policed through immigration requirements'.
Thus, borders do not just produce capital accumulation and economic inequality, they also produce nations, Peoples9 ,
populations, families, hetero- and homonormativity, racialisation of people and of places, and shape thinking, theory and
methodology (see for example Wimmer and Glick Schiller (2002) and De Genova (2013) on methodological nationalism).
To conclude, while there are several good points in De Genova'a arguments, to make them better, and to make them
useful strategies , they must be complicated. This necessary complication occurs primarily by connecting
into
them to various other power structures, and by
seeing the state and borders not as monolithic,
given, things, but as complex patternings, involving a variety of practices, that
may both be resources to us, and sites of domination (Berlant in Seitz 2013), and with
which we sometimes have to interact, even if we would prefer to bypass them
altogether .
Indigenous perspectives and border imperialism: Strategies, homonationalism, the freedom to stay, and necropolitics
In order to explore in what ways Walia's work might provide good arguments and strategies against borders, and how they
might be further developed, I focus on four topics. Firstly, by attending to the practical situation of unauthorised migrants'
immediate need for a residence permit I discuss what might appear as a strategical contradiction to seek permission by the
state whilst being opposed to regulated migration. I explore this possible dilemma by reading it through Butler, Berlant
and Barad. Secondly, I read Walia through Puar's work on sexuality and homonationalism. Thirdly, I focus on (the
indigenous demand for) 'the freedom to stay' and connect it to the need to pay attention to people's very varying
possibilities or abilities to migrate and to be mobile. Finally, I take the cue from Walia's argument about borders as
racialising practices and turn to Achille Mbembe to discuss the racialised indifference to the death of migrants.
Unsurprisingly, since Walia writes from within a movement of migrant justice, her arguments
provide much
more concrete and applicable strategies than any other of the approaches that I discuss
here. She argues for the need to build solidarity and alliances with other groups, particularly indigenous peoples, and her
arguments about the connection between borders, capitalism and racialisation should also encourage solidarity on behalf
of otherwise racialised peoples who have citizenship or secure migration status, as well as on the part of wage labourers.
The strategies she discusses take into account the immediate situation and needs of
unauthorised migrants. For example, she recognises the need of
navigating state institutions like border agencies, immigration offices […] in order to support those facing detention and
deportation. Such organizing to meet the immediate needs of undocumented migrants and refugees
changes migrants' material conditions by, for example, winning legal resident status, which then
facilitates them becoming more involved in radical movements . It also works to
build long-term relationships of confidence and trust, and provides a means through which to share our own analysis
(Walia 2013:183).
The strategy of creating sanctuary cities (Walia 2013:111-7) – where the local municipality decides that formal
engages with some
migration status does not matter for the provision of its services – is another strategy that
branches of the state – local municipalities – and that could thus be seen as reformist, but
she argues that it still serves the wider goals because it improves the material
situation of people, it provides a basis of involvement by various sectors of
society, it advances the demand of status for all, and it works as a prefigurative
practice where alternative visions are materialised. Based on these practical experiences and on
other people's work, she argues that in practice, there is no strict dualism between reformist
and revolutionary strategies (2013:182-7). However, she also argues for the need to be conscientious
about how to engage with the state: 'NOII [No One Is Illegal] would not, for example, work toward a selective
regularization policy that would benefit some migrants but exclude those migrants with criminal records or those on social
assistance' (Walia 2013:184). The
way she spells out these practical, strategical issues is much
more useful than the arguments which regard all struggles that engage with the
state and its institutions as reformist, conformist and futile .
Reading Walia's discussion about strategies through Butler, Berlant and Barad provides more theoretical perspectives on
how to think about the strategic dilemma of engagement with, or withdrawal, from the state and regulated migration.
White argues that 'migrant politics and queer and trans politics' have a shared problematic issue, namely 'the relationship
between tactics and imaginaries' (White 2014:978). White cites Butler who calls this tension a 'performative
contradiction', and who argues that '[t]here can be no radical change without performative
contradiction … The contradiction must be relied on, exposed, and worked on to
move toward something new. There seems to be no other way ' (White 2014:976-8). That is,
Butler argues that it is impossible not to act within the current situation: '[o]bviously, the political task is not to
refuse representational politics – as if we could', and 'there is no position outside this field'
(2010:7). Rather, Butler's argument that gender is performative means that gender is an act, and by virtue of
being an act it can also be changed. Change does not require outright refusal,
but is apparent in every little iteration doing gender differently. Acts reference
and cite what is already there, but they may reference and cite with a difference, with a
twist, without merely replicating the previous acts or scripts . Butler explains: 'The
productions swerve from their original purposes and inadvertently mobilize possibilities of “subjects” that do not merely
exceed the bounds of cultural intelligibility, but effectively expand the boundaries of what is, in fact, culturally intelligible'
(2010:40). Despite the completely different context of Butler's arguments, they might still be applicable to work against
regulated migration. When navigating migration law, it is impossible not to take part in representational politics – you
and your case must be intelligible according to the representations of an eligible candidate of residency ('refugee', 'lesbian',
'family', 'worker', etc.) – and the costs of refusing to be recognised by migration law are often far too high for that to be a
viable option, if you have a choice. Thus, while
it may sometimes be necessary to navigate this
system, we can do so strategically, subverting it, mobilising possibilities that
were not there before, while always keeping the larger transformation and
imaginary in mind (White 2014:991-2; Walia 2013:182-4).
The same process – changing something by engaging with it (as a strategic choice or out of necessity, since there is no
position that is not produced in relation to it) – would be conceptualised differently by Berlant, or by Barad, whose
arguments about the possibilities for changing objects were discussed in the section on Agamben. Berlant (in Seitz 2013)
would say that since objects are clusters of patternings, promises, projections, by making them do certain things and not
others, by using some of these patternings but not others, objects can change. Barad (2003) would say that objects as
phenomena are delimited in the intra-action that is the phenomena, and that the 'agential cuts' between its constitutive
parts might always be done differently. In each new 'momentum' they can be arranged
differently (2003:814-5). Objects can thus change. Thus, when White (2014:992) argues that 'queer anti-
deportation activists do not only unwittingly reproduce methodological nationalisms,
they do so strategically in order to make their claims hearable by the state', this
strategy should always aim to undermine methodological nationalism, borders and the state. That is, not only aim to
be heard by the state, but by being heard, to fundamentally change it . This also requires
that we think about how we engage with the state and what the engagement is used for.
State engagement is key– their normative strategy just reifies the public
private dichotomy
Mansbridge 03– Professor of Political Leadership and Democratic Values @ Harvard
(Jane, “Anti-statism and Difference Feminism in International Social Movements,”
International Feminist Journal of Politics)
Feminist strategies that neglect or consistently deplore state action cannot accomplish what
women need – because individuals need collectives such as states to solve collective action
problems and to move toward more just social arrangements. Strategies that rely heavily on
women’s differences from men also cannot accomplish what women need – because women are like men in many ways
relevant to individual and collective action. Despite these truths, social movements also need some strategies of action that
work separately from and sometimes against the state. Moreover, strategies that accentuate the differences between
oppressed and oppressing bring needed energy to a movement. The best overall strategy is, therefore, to realize that both
states and difference theories are dangerous weapons, and proceed with caution.¶ In this important paper, Jane Jaquette
sounds the alarm. She exposes the dangers of ignoring the state and the dangers of ‘difference feminism’. She also shows
how these are linked. Although I will underscore the merits of anti-state activity and difference feminism, I agree that a
feminist strategy that neglected or deplored state action would be weak indeed. So would a
strategy that relied on women’s differences from men.¶ First, the merits of Jaquette’s argument.¶ One strand in
feminist theory and practice greatly suspects the state. This suspicion can escalate
into outright rejection, with potentially grave consequences for women .¶ The
philosophical case for the state is relatively simple. Collective action¶ can improve human
lives. Efficient collective action requires coercion. Instru- ments of collective action
involving coercion can, paradoxically, increase human freedom. We are freer to do many things if we can
bind ourselves with legally enforceable contracts. Rather than enforcing these contracts privately, it is more efficient and
potentially more just to give a monopoly of legitimate violence to one entity, so long as that entity
can reasonably claim to be more just than the alternatives. Humans have long struggled to devise relatively legitimate
forms of coercion. The history of democracy is part of that struggle, although that history has nowhere produced national-
level institutions that are highly legitimate. Despite their incapacity ever to be fully legitimate, however,
we still need both states and international institutions to help solve collective action problems and
to give scope to the human capacity for justice.¶ Regarding women, the practical case for the state, must
be grounded in contemporary realities. In some states, such as Sweden, women do better, compared to men,
than in the most egalitarian of known pre-state entities, such as the Kung!. Moreover, although the
dangers of state power for women are great, it is not practical to contemplate returning to pre-state
entities. Human beings seem to want the goods produced by more extensive forms of cooperation, including those that
require legitimate coercion. Given that states will not disappear in the near future, what stance should
we take toward them? My answer is: wary usage. State power will be used against
women , just as other forms of power are used against women, unless we intervene . One response is
to establish barriers, such as constitutional or internationally enforceable rights, to certain kinds of
invasions by state power. Another is to make states more likely to act in the interests of
women.¶ In the United States both theory and institutional practice carry suspicion of the state farther than in most
countries, with some malign consequences. Ours has been a ‘liberalism of fear’ more than an Enlightenment liberalism
that envisions a common good. Americans are wary of state power, encouraged in that wariness by powerful capitalist
interests. Jaquette rightly warns against this. State power can serve both as a brake on the negative externalities of
capitalism and as a positive force for material redistribution. Particularly when patriarchal power takes violent forms in
the private sphere, state power can help women struggle against that violence as well as other non-state evils.¶ The
question, then, is how far to carry wariness of state power and of theories of state universalism and impartiality. I believe
we must both use state power and place bounds on. Because the state as a tool is dangerous
and flawed, we need to use it with caution.¶ Jaquette faults contemporary feminist anti-state theorists not
for wanting to abolish the state but for spending their energies on wariness rather than on how to use it for redistribution.
How important one thinks this problem is depends on how one judges the current balance within feminist theory. Many
feminist theorists – e.g. Susan Okin, Nancy Fraser, Iris Young – call for redistributive reforms requiring
state power. Perhaps in Latin America, from¶ 356 International Feminist Journal of Politics –––––––––––––––––
––––––––––¶ Downloaded by [Harvard Library] at 12:19 04 August 2014¶ which Jaquette takes her lead, theorists of
the North are represented by anti- state theory. In that case, one must ask why these are the theorists Latin American
feminists choose to read. Anti-state discourse may have informed radical practice in Latin America not because anti-state
theory is dominant in the North but because activists in Latin America find that anti-state discourse meets their
organizing needs. Anti-state discourse may reflect the reality of individuals working on the margins of states that either
are relatively corrupt or, even more obviously than most, enforce the interests of dominant classes.¶ Jaquette also rightly
warns of the dangers of valorizing action in civil society to the neglect of state action. However, we need evidence that the
more women participate in NGOs the less they participate in the state. Without such evidence it seems equally plausible
that the more women participate in NGOs the more they will acquire the skills and contacts required for involve- ment in
state politics. Some individuals also will not be able to deal with the hierarchy, coercion and male dominance embedded in
all states. They will need to work in social movements. Political activism usually sustains a division of labor, with the
individuals who can best deal with established institutions doing just that and those who are most repelled by those
institutions charting another course. The directions they take sometimes conflict with one another.¶ Women and feminists
trying to achieve places in the state, whether as femocrats or politicians, face major barriers but also major attractions. I
do not know how much we should worry that they will not be attracted to these jobs because of radical anti-state
discourse. In the United States this does not seem to be a huge problem. In some countries, women who could be agents of
feminist change turn down jobs in the state because those jobs are boring and unsatisfying. When these women speak of
their frustrations, radical anti- state discourse appears to play a small or non-existent role.¶ In short, Jaquette is right that
an established anti-state discourse within radical movements makes productive
interaction with states less likely, but I am not sure that such discourse is created by feminist theory.¶
Jaquette also points to distortions produced by difference feminism. It is true that any stress on women’s differences
reinforces the tendency of dominant groups such as white or middle-class women to interpret ‘women’s’ experiences
primarily in light of their own experiences. In recent years, women of color have produced the greatest advances in
feminist theory, forcing white feminists to look more closely at their hegemonically defined concepts of commonality; this
work has given all feminists the tools to understand better differences within their groups and subgroups.¶ In addition, in
most areas of presumed personality difference between men and women, the differences are extremely small. The
currently definitive meta-analysis of studies on Carol Gilligan’s hypothesis shows that – at least in the United States, in the
highly educated populations where she argues that differences should appear – only very small differences can be found.¶
–––––––––––––––––– Jane Mansbridge/Anti-statism and difference feminism 357¶ Downloaded by [Harvard
Library] at 12:19 04 August 2014¶ Most studies do not show women taking a different approach to justice or behaving
more cooperatively than men. Studies designed to elicit behavioral gender differences often generate practically none.¶ In-
groups, we now know, exaggerate similarities within their group and their differences from other groups. The human
brain makes these predictable cognitive and emotional mistakes in in-group/out-group differentiation. Recognizing this
tendency, we should constantly struggle to take into account the fact that our social and first-order cognitive estimates of
such differences are usually exaggerated. In the case of gender, all societies also engage in ‘gratuitous gendering’ – giving
gendered meanings to nouns and patterns of action that do not functionally require that identification. These processes
increase even more our perceptions of gender difference.¶ Today we have little idea what differences might or might not
emerge between men and women in a non-oppressive society. It seems mistaken, therefore, to insist on difference rather
than focusing on the effects of dominance.¶ Finally, as Jaquette warns, promising different political results based on the
premise that women are different from men is dangerous. We are almost certain not to deliver on that promise, at least in
the short run. The backlash after the US suffrage movement was undoubtedly caused in part by disillusion at the lack of
change when women won the vote.¶ And yet, small differences that do appear between men and women can take on major
symbolic significance, precisely because of our human tendency to exaggerate group differences. Although using that
significance is danger- ous, not only because it exaggerates reality but also because it underlines the very stereotypes that
have been used to keep women in their place, the existence of danger does not mean that we should forswear this tool –
any more than for swearing the tool of state action. Just remember: when using a dangerous tool, take active precautions
against its potential harms.¶ Difference arguments for electing women are not just arguments from ‘utility’, as Jaquette
reports Marian Sawer’s point. For example, the fact that women are perceived as more honest than men can advance an
attack on corruption by associating its female leaders with honesty. Using positive stereotypes of women in this way need
not be degrading. Successful uses may even result in males adopting certain features of female symbolism to signify their
own adherence to better standards.¶ In another example, among professional populations in the United States, women are
somewhat more likely than men to adopt participatory, egalitarian styles of leadership. The difference probably derives
from women’s relative powerlessness, which teaches skills of persuasion rather than command. In the US women’s
movement of the late 1960s and 1970s, women used the gender differences they perceived in listening, interpreting body
language and participatory style to create significant departures from the prevailing styles of left politics in organizations
dominated by men. The message, ‘We do things differently’ is exhilarating. It prompts greater effort in trying to¶ 358
International Feminist Journal of Politics –––––––––––––––––––––––––––¶ Downloaded by [Harvard Library] at
12:19 04 August 2014¶ forge a new model, because the effort is associated not only with a different culture that can replace
the old one but also with a different self and associated selves.¶ Turning from practical politics to political theory, concepts
are also often gender-coded. Freedom and self-interest, for example, are often coded as male, community and altruism as
female. It is not surprising, then, that when feminist theorists entered the field of theory, some explicitly supported certain
values previously denigrated as female. Although the arguments made for these values might not be female, their
proponrnts often were. Moreover, having been raised in a subculture that had been allocated cultural respon- sibility for
these values, women had often thought about them more thor- oughly than men. Women had also usually experienced the
denigration of these values first-hand.¶ In short, Jaquette is right that stressing women’s differences from men is fraught
with danger. But values and practices that many cultures associate with women are often good in themselves, denigrated
because of their association with women. Asserting the value of these ideals and practices from a stance as women often
makes emotional, cognitive and political sense.¶ Importantly, Jaquette identifies a link between anti-state discourse and
difference feminism. A number of anti-state theorists who are also strongly anti-essentialist would deny this identification.
But in social movements themselves, the identification makes sense. The state is male; hence difference feminists should
be anti-state. The state is instrumental, self-interested and hierarchical; women are communal, nurturing and
participatory. To the degree that these associations are simply accepted as unchangeable truths, they compound the most
problematic anti-state mistake.¶ I agree wholeheartedly with Jaquette’s fears in seeing no visible trend toward a renewed
interest in the politics of economic justice, at least in the United States. In contrast to the creativity in the struggle against
globalization, there has been an absence of ‘street-level’ activism against, for example, the revolutionary shift in tax
burdens in the USA. More positively, the anti- sweatshop movement has had some good effects in raising consumer con-
sciousness and bringing younger activists in touch with international labor movement organizing. As for the causes of the
shift away from the politics of economic justice, I agree with Jaquette that it is related to the post-Cold War era and the
temporary triumph of capitalism. I am not so sure that it has much to do either with activists’ anti-state discourse or with
difference feminism.¶ This commentary has concentrated on the caveats to Jaquette’s thesis. I conclude by stressing again
my fundamental agreement with her argument. Feminists have a ‘stake in a capable state’. It would be
catastrophic to be so carried away by the theoretical virtues of civil society or by anti-
state discourse as to deaden oneself to the practical need to work with the state to
improve the lives of women .¶ Because ideas have influence, it is worth stressing Jaquette’s point that¶ ––
–––––––––––––––– Jane Mansbridge/Anti-statism and difference feminism 359¶ Downloaded by [Harvard Library] at
12:19 04 August 2014¶ ‘norms adopted internationally depend on states to implement them’;
and only states can change the rules for women and other disadvantaged groups. The
welfare state is a huge improvement over the arbitrary power of men in private families.
Women’s groups must therefore work closely with govern- ments or remain on the
fringe. Feminists will not only have to ‘learn to live with the state’. They should learn to
work with the state . For those who do not already know this, Jaquette’s article is required reading.