Feminism. One word capable of eliciting shudders of revulsion from the least squeamish of women, and reducing grown men to tears. I can see you conjuring up images of hairy legs, burning bras and men-hating. Bear with me, I promise the editors will have removed as much self-righteousness as possible.

Feminism in Oxford is a disappointingly dispersed phenomenon. While dealing with one issue at a time is a very sensible route in terms of achieving concrete goals, these divisions are, I believe, part of the problem: we are failing to see the bigger picture. As with the feminist movement in general, we see activism here in a range of separate areas, boxed off and compartmentalised. There is something missing in this issue-by-issue treatment: I want a narrative, a causal route from this property of ‘femaleness’ to the disadvantages that come with being landed with it – what is it about being a woman that makes you disproportionately vulnerable to a range of specific pressures, problems and inequalities?

Crucially, we can’t get to this narrative while feminism is a niche market; we need to consider the experiences, expectations and pressures of gender stereotypes on everyone – men and women, feminist and non-feminist alike. I don’t think reclaiming the word ‘feminism’ is as important as getting people to think about the issues we are talking about – I agree with Louise Livesey, who is playing a key role in co-ordinating the Oxford Feminist Network, that it is ‘not what people call themselves, but what they do’. I would even add to this, that it is not only what people do that matters, but what they have to say. Feminists need to be vastly more inclusive: our duty is not only to raise awareness of where problems lie, but to connect these problems through paying attention to the views and opinions of those we feel instinctively inclined to disagree with.

The first step will be dropping the stereotypes we have imposed on ourselves since the battles of the 70s. In trying to avoid the difficult stereotypes of old, many Oxford women have fallen into new, and equally debilitating, moulds. We have ‘empowered’ women, who don’t need feminism – women can freely embrace their sex appeal now, we’re told. Lipstick and heels are all part of the sexual liberation. On the other side of the coin we keep feminists hidden away, and conveniently wheeled out to complain about particular issues. Even feminists are encouraged to play a particular role; we should be softly spoken and consensus-seeking, because women who forcefully argue about ‘women’s issues’ are labelled as aggressive or anti-men.

My problem is not, take note, with lipstick or quiet voices: I don’t think feminists have to look or behave in a particular way, and on a health and safety note I certainly wouldn’t advocate setting fire to your underwear. What I do take issue with is the quiet acceptance that these are the only roles women should publicly play: out of fear of being landed with the terrifying ‘angry feminist’ label, we seek protection behind more acceptable guises.

At the moment gender equality is a niche concern, and feminism is an amusing eccentricity. Until we return to the premise that scrutinising basic gender roles is the solution to combating various other social problems, we will fail to draw in the crowds, and until we embrace the idea that being passionate about addressing these concerns does not have to mean being tarred with the ‘angry feminist’ brush, we are going to fail to harness the argumentative power of the political men and women within our midst.

Let’s not be afraid of getting angry. Being an angry feminist does not mean you are aggressive or irrational, it means you are bothered by the way things are, and are not afraid to show it. What if we forgot for a few minutes that women are meant to be compromisers and men are inescapably more aggressive and let loose a good healthy argument? I think the results would be enlightening.

Mahinda Rajapaksa, Sri Lanka’s president, will go down in history as a hero. In a span of about two years, his government successfully defeated and disarmed the Liberation of Tamil Tigers Eelam (LTTE), a brutal outfit of insurgents that terrorized Sri Lanka for about a quarter of a century. However, this victory came at an enormous cost. Tens of thousands of innocent Tamil civilians lost their lives, and hundreds of thousands of displaced civilians remain detained in camps in the North of the country. The government refuses to release these detainees until they are screened for links to the Tamil Tigers and the reconstruction of their villages are complete. Conditions in these camps are deplorable, with poor water supply and only little dry rations.

Now re-elected for another term as President, Mr. Rajapaksa needs to clean up his act and needs to do this quickly. Though most Tamils despise the LTTE, their ostensible ideal of a Tamil state remains popular amongst many who have suffered decades of discrimination by the Sinhalese majority. Despite poor voter turnout in the northern Tamil areas, the recent presidential elections saw most Tamils supporting the detained army general, Sarath Fonseka, who portrayed himself as the leader that would allow a greater measure of self-rule for the Tamils. Observers agree that some measure of Tamil autonomy is now necessary for stability in Sri Lanka. To achieve this goal it is imperative that Mr. Rajpaksa realize that Sri Lanka’s ethnic problems require both a political solution and a humanitarian one. The 13th Amendment of the Sri Lankan constitution calls for this by recommending devolution of power to provinces. Given this, it is unfortunate that Mr. Rajapaksa dismissed any federal solution to assuage Tamil grievances; rather, he claims, Tamils only want to be resettled in their homes after the war.

Mr. Rajapaksa’s government does not seem to be faring well on the humanitarian front either. In March this year, the Sri Lankan government decided that the Common Humanitarian Action Plan (CHAP), a UN coordinated aid effort, was useless. Instead Mr. Rajapaksa wants aid to be channeled through a special task force headed by his brother Mr. Basil Rajpaksa. In his defence, aid duplication is often a problem and impedes the speedy recovery of war-torn regions. Nonetheless, this confusion has resulted in donor fatigue. Donors do not know where to send aid and are sceptical of a government that is run like a family-business venture. One of Mr. Rajapaksa’s brothers is the Secretary Of Defense, another is a senior adviser, and many members of his extended family work in senior government positions.

While allegations of alleged war crimes still remain, Mr. Rajapaksa can do a lot more to bolster his nationalist cause by making a few concessions to the Tamils. Some efforts have been made to this end. Suggestions have been made of a new upper house of Parliament and the government is stepping up the recruitment of Tamils into the police force. Yet, none of these will deliver a long-lasting solution to the Tamil problem. Mr. Rajapaksa runs the risk of making the same mistake that was made in Bosnia by the international community: all efforts are directed toward ameliorating the effects of the conflict rather than treating its causes. The problem, which cries out for a political solution, is treated as just another humanitarian crisis.

Yet more papal gossip emerged this week, as the Foreign Office was lambasted for a “disgusting” memo which suggested that the Pope might encourage condom use, bless gay marriage and sponsor a network of AIDS clinics.

Okay, so Steven Mulvain (the guy behind it) actually suggested the Pope make his own brand of condoms. But the point remained that it was these suggestions that were “hugely offensive” to the Catholic Church.

Despite the Pope’s courageous vow of silence on all matters of significance, some of his colleagues couldn’t help but take the bait. While admittedly it would have been less contentious had it not come from the foreign office, what was essentially a private joke was heavily criticised for implying that the Pope might take a vital step towards controlling AIDS in the Third World and bringing Catholic ideas on women’s and homosexuals’ rights into the twenty-first century.

There appeared to be many parallels with the reaction of Revolution Islam to the perceived depiction of Muhammad in a bear suit by South Park.

In a plot twist, it turned out that it was in fact Santa in the bear suit, so there never was any depiction of Muhammad. The fact is, however, that even had they shown a picture they called Muhammad, it would in no way be the prophet of Islam.

The Muhammad of the Quran could no more be depicted by South Park than Buddha can be truly depicted snorting cocaine, or Jesus truly depicted murdering terrorists. The religious figures in South Park are merely characters that take on traits to suit a story designed to purvey a particular ethical or political stance.

In this case their point was that dogma within religion is getting in the way of common sense and prevailing modern standards. Revolution Islam’s subsequent issuing of what was effectively a death threat over showing Muhammad in a bear suit just reinforced their point.

Mulvain’s point was very similar – it is outright wrong in today’s society to take the Catholic Church’s view on contraception and homosexuality. It was a heavy-handed critique, but part of the point was that in fact the world would be a better place with Benedict-brand condoms.

The point is that, like Revolution Islam, the Catholic Church are mistaking God for a bear suit.

The essence of Christianity is in “love your neighbour as yourself” – a message of charity, equality and social responsibility. The God of Christianity is no more depicted in outdated misogynistic and homophobic dogma than that of Islam is depicted by South Park.
The Pope knows his Bible verses. Perhaps he realised this. “Love your neighbour as yourself”. Catchy. A slogan perhaps?

Maybe the reason behind his outrage isn’t because of an outdated moral code at all. The Pope’s a clever guy – he knows an opportunity when he sees one.

He’s not morally outraged – he’s just been found out. Benedict-brand condoms would have been a real money-spinner. He could even have extended into Benedict-brand toys, Benedict-brand lube. A whole business model has been wasted due to one stupid joke. Mulvain let the cat out of the bag too soon.

In similar vein, perhaps we can see the reason behind Revolution Islam’s reaction to South Park. Perhaps there is an element of truth.

There was outrage in Saudi Arabia when British woman Gillian Gibbons named a bear Muhammad, and now there has been another over-the-top reaction to his ursine depiction. Muslims banned images being drawn of Muhammad.

Coincidence?

The Eighties are back. As Gene Hunt hits our TV screens for one last hurrah in the final series of Ashes to Ashes, so Britain’s trades unions are on the warpath. As British Airways cabin staff began a series of walkouts over changes to their working conditions, railway signallers announced their plans to heap misery on the travelling public with a national strike. Meanwhile, teaching unions threatened industrial action if parents and voluntary organisations were given more of a say in how schools were run.

In the trade union movement, old habits die hard. In 1979 a Labour government, trailing the Conservatives in the polls, was held to ransom by the unions which were bankrolling it. The then villain of the piece, Arthur Scargill, commented that the unions “are entitled by virtue of their sponsorship to tell their MPs which way to vote”. Of course 2010 is hardly 1979, but the parallels are hard to ignore. Just as in 1979 the trade union movement was the primary donor to the Labour Party, so it is today. The Unite super-union donated no less than £11 million to the Labour Party last year. And just as Scargill thought his National Union of Mineworkers could call the shots thirty-years ago, so Unite do today. The influence they wield is staggering: a total of 148 Labour candidates at this election are sponsored by Unite, among them thirteen cabinet ministers. As Labour’s former General-Secretary Peter Watt said, “it is absolutely fair to describe the Labour Party as the political wing of Unite. It influences Labour more than any other organisation.”

This would all matter somewhat less if it wasn’t for how the unions are using their influence. On reform of the public sector, they remain bitterly opposed to attempts to transfer power from Whitehall to the public. When John Prescott memorably said “If you set up a school and it becomes a good school, the great danger is that everyone wants to go there”, he was echoing a philosophy shared by the Labour Party and the unions – that individual choice is bad, and government control good. In healthcare, Labour and the Unison trade union bitterly opposed allowing NHS cancer patients to buy drugs that the government wouldn’t fund: cancer sufferers were threatened with having their NHS funding withdrawn if, in addition to their publicly-funded treatment, they paid for potentially life-saving drugs themselves. The argument of Labour and the unions was that to allow such a practice might “create a two-tier health service”. Silly me, I thought the NHS was there to treat patients, not serve the needs of state planners and ideologues.

Labour may have mocked David Cameron as a Gene Hunt figure, intent on taking Britain back to the 1980s, but it is the Labour Party who are in the pocket of the most reactionary force in British politics. They must think it’s still the 1980s.

The drama of this three-way tug of war has made this election the most exciting for some time. This is all the more remarkable, because beneath the veneer of TV debates and not-so-pithy one liners, the real conflict is over electoral reform, widely acknowledged to be one of the most boring political controversies out there. 

It’s not that it is boring because it’s insignificant – it’s a vital issue. Don’t kid yourself, it’s far more significant than a row over $6bn in public spending. It could fundamentally alter the British political landscape for decades. It’s more boring because of the details. Which is presumably why Cameron refuses to go into them, preferring instead to make his point via the intrigue of the “shady back-room deals” that he assures us would result from perennial hung parliaments, the inevitable outcome of PR.

“It is somewhat difficult to decry shady back room deals whilst simultaneously acknowledging that you’ll be making them.”

This strategy is, frankly, disingenuous. Never mind the fact that it is somewhat difficult to decry shady back room deals whilst simultaneously acknowledging that you’ll be making them; it is just plainly inaccurate to suppose that coalition government under PR is necessarily any less effective, open or democratic.

This is why you see Tories talking about Italy, and not Germany. Because Italy’s government was notoriously unstable, corrupt, and indebted under PR, while Germany’s government has been to all accounts rather more stable than Italy’s, and (whisper it) rather more accountable and prosperous than our own.

But there are quite a few good reasons why we shouldn’t assess PR on the Italian case. Italy was dominated by a single party from the end of the Second World War to 1994 – Christian Democrat hegemony over the Cabinet only fell apart as their communist opponents faded into irrelevance after the fall of the USSR. This was a recipe for corruption and bad governance. But nobody thinks that PR would result in one-party preeminence in the UK, so we shouldn’t be too worried.

“Cameron repeatedly bemoaned Germany’s speedier-than-us exit from recession”

On the other hand, Germany has done rather well for itself. It is surprising that Cameron, who has repeatedly bemoaned Germany’s speedier-than-us exit from recession when attempting to score points on the economy should be so apparently oblivious to the political system it stemmed from.

The country has also been stable — most elections have occurred, on schedule, every four years. Near thirty of the last sixty years in Germany were under the leadership of just two Chancellors – hardly the PR House-of-Cards that Cameron wants us to envision.

What’s more, German coalition politics is conducted very openly and democratically. Coalition preferences are declared before the election, in stark opposition to Clegg’s strategy of withholding the information for electoral advantage. After the election, negotiations are conducted publically, and a coalition agreement is signed. The German people know what they are voting for, and by and large they get it. What is interesting about this is that it isn’t even required by the German constitution-the parties do it of their own accord.

“It’s their choice to whip out the cigarillos and turn off the lights”

This is what makes Cameron’s (and to a lesser extent Labour’s) railing against a hung parliament so duplicitous. They say they want the best for the country, and that we must avoid a hung parliament and all it’s associated back-room ills. But they don’t acknowledge that it’s their choice to whip out the cigarillos and turn off the lights – they could perfectly well engage in a more democratic process, as their German counterparts do. 

Never mind the dim-wittedness of attacking PR coalition negotiations as undemocratic, in defence of a system that is patently more undemocratic itself.

Which is worse: Secretive negotiations, or a party running the country with the consent of less than 30% of the population, and a lower share of the vote than its competitors? Our current system disregards the opinion of a huge majority of the electorate – it has always been undemocratic, just never so obviously. 

There are potential problems with PR. Negotiations can be hidden, or they can be open and democratic. Governments can attempt to reach consensus, or they be inert, squabbling like Gordo’s boys at bath-time. The hypocrisy of the Lab/Con position is that the power to choose would be theirs—so they are either saying that they are either too stupid to design workable reform, or too self-interested to implement it. Neither are attractive qualities in a government.