Almost six months after it began, the #MeToo campaign is still having an impact and generating debate — and not just against the right wing, notes Elizabeth Shultz.
The first steps in #MeToo last year were women telling their stories of sexual assault and harassment committed by powerful men in Hollywood, followed by tens of thousands more, from all walks of life, adding their experiences. It created an opening to discuss something that plagues women’s lives, but that rarely gets attention in mainstream politics or the media.
Not everyone reacted sympathetically. Predictably, United States President Donald Trump — who himself faces several accusations of sexual abuse — has.
It is impossible to take Trump seriously when he talks about “due process”. This is a man who, which led to several Black and Latino teenagers being framed for the sexual assault of a white woman. They lost years of their lives to wrongful imprisonment.
If Trump had gotten his way, they would have been put to death before they were proven innocent. He bought newspaper advertisement space to demand the death penalty for the five.
Trump’s reaction does not deserve much of our time. But there are voices on the other end of the political spectrum who still see more problems than gains with #MeToo.
A sex panic?
One recent example is, where Wypijewski argues that #MeToo is not a movement, but a sex panic.
Wypijewski compares #MeToo to “the fever over (homo)‘sexual psychopaths’ (1950s) to serial rages since the late 1960s against: sex education; gay ‘sex rings’, teachers and threats to family; ‘stranger danger’; Crime!; Porn!; satanic ritual abuse in day care; sexual abuse dug up from ‘memory’; AIDS predators; ‘superpredators’; Internet predators”.
She writes: “Sex panic reverses the order that governs law, where, formally at least, innocence is presumed. In panic, the stories are all true, and the accused are guilty by default.
“Law having been declared a flawed tool for achieving justice — as, indeed, it is — ‘naming and shaming’ takes its place. Garbed as justice, accusations become moral lessons of Good’s triumph over Evil; they thus become increasingly difficult to question.
“Their proliferation becomes proof of legitimacy. Victims are encouraged to ‘Speak your truth’. Everyone else is commanded, ‘Believe’.”
The Nationarticle is re-raising a debate over due process that was had out in the media months ago.
Wypijewski cites Wendy Kaminer in theBoston Globe, who says that the phrase “believe women” is a form of “vigilante feminism”. She also refers to Masha Gessen at theNew Yorker, who criticised the “selective force” of #MeToo because it forced the resignation of Democratic Senator Al Franken. These are among those she highlights have “warned about the indifference to due process”.
Unfortunately, she says, “women fromSocialist Workerto theWashington Postscoffed”.
Really? I can promise that the writers atSWand many others who have taken up this subject will tell you, without scoffing at all, that the accused should have the right to defend themselves and all the other things that are supposed to go along with the concept of due process.
Lack of justice
This discussion is not over the pros and cons of due process for men, as Wypijewski claims, but whether due process existsat allfor women who have experienced sexual assault.
What the #MeToo upsurge made clear was not just that many women have stories to tell about sexual assault and harassment. It is also that there is rarely, if ever, any way for them to find justice.
So, for instance, when #MeToo swept through the halls of Congress, exposing abusers and attackers in the corridors of power, we learned aboutif they tried to report harassment.
We learned about a process that protected powerful men in government from the women they harassed, not the other way around. In this context, #MeToo did not squelch due process. It sought to create some form of it where one did not exist before.
Wypijewski also cautions young #MeToo activists about the dangers of naively fuelling the already powerful racist criminal justice system with their complaints.
She rightly points out the inherent racism of the US criminal justice system. The US has an ugly history of targeting Black men and rationalising it with accusations about the rape of white women.
But acknowledging this relevant fact is not incompatible with supporting #MeToo. It is worth pointing out that many young activists have already drawn those conclusions and include a critique of the racism of the criminal justice system alongside activism around sexual assault.
For example,to get their administrations to listen to them are well aware that law enforcement offers no solutions to sexual assault survivors, while taking every opportunity to criminalise Black men.
changed the conversation about what kinds of measures will make women safer on campus away from criminalisation by highlighting the ways women are treated by police, particularly women of colour, and how Black men are typically targeted.
The targets of #MeToo have been, not victims of a justice system that railroads you if you are poor or Black. #MeToo exposed the way that this select group of men.
In the process, it revealed the policies that protect members of Congress and Hollywood moguls. It also revealed the conditions women workers are forced to endure with little or no recourse.
Discussing change
Without the voices of the tens of thousands of women who said “Me Too”, no one would have heard about that. Without many more standing in solidarity, they probably never would have told their stories at all.
Likewise, there would have been no discussion of what can be done about this previously hidden epidemic. Some people may meet the #MeToo phenomenon with fear and apprehension, but others are greeting it as.
There is now a discussion — one that’s certainly far from over — that has raised expectations about how women should expect to be treated and to act. #MeToo began that process.
It should be a motivation for why we need more discussion and action, not writing it off.
There is another point in Wypijewski’s article that deserves to be addressed. She calls #MeToo a matter of “privilege” because its insight into the sexism that exists in workplaces supposedly does not go further to recognise the exploitation that women workers face every day under capitalism.
She writes: “Mainstream discourse borrows the anti-harassment piece but separates it from work’s full reality, which is to say capitalism. The result is a pinched, again privileged, conception of power.
“If sex in the workplace were the sole measure of dignity, strawberry pickers who haven’t been sexually harassed should be happy agents of their destiny, sex workers who control the terms of their trade should be ruins, and 26,400 Hewlett-Packard workers discarded by Carly Fiorina should have had no problem.”
Workplace struggles
Such criticism can lead to the conclusion that people who understand class inequality under capitalism have nothing to say about combating sexism — or racism for that matter. That there is no use fighting sexism because this does not affect the “real” problem of capitalist exploitation. Are we supposed to consider sexual harassment of strawberry pickers of secondary importance compared to their exploitation?
If we are going to fight for better conditions at work, it means that all workers, men and women, must see that they have a stake in combating sexual harassment and abuse. What is more, that this struggle is connected to the struggle to win better conditions for all.
If women can be treated like second-class citizens because of their gender, and men can be convinced that this has nothing to do with them and is not their fight, then there is not much hope for a united struggle for better working conditions, let alone capitalism.
Right now, women on their campuses and in their workplaces are looking for ways to address sexual harassment and abuse, many of them inspired by #MeToo. They are strategising about ways to build on the momentum of #MeToo, not how to reel it in.
[Reprinted from US .]