Why I hope Hillary can make it to the White House
‘All those ugly, misogynist feelings will surface from their dripping caves’
Fans of Veep, the blissful HBO comedy starring Julia Louis-Dreyfus as Selina Meyer, have already had a preview of what it’s like to have a female president of the United States.
Secretary: The oath will take place tomorrow at 12 noon.
President-elect: Yes. Secretary: You will then acquire the nuclear codes. Male adviser: Goodbye, China. At the White House, President Meyer reflects on the voters who put her there: “Jesus Christ, you know? You do your best, you try to serve the people, and then they just f--- you over. And you know why? Because they’re ignorant, and they’re dumb as s---. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is democracy.”
How much would Hillary Clinton like to snap out a line like that? Lord knows, the temptation must be overwhelming when she finally takes off one of her hard-working pant suits and reaches for the scotch. But snapping is not an option for Hillary. Nor is crude invective or flatulent bragging or promising to build a wall, or insulting an entire minority group, or insulting anyone at all, actually. She has to leave that stuff to Donald Trump, worst luck. Trump could threaten to sacrifice baby dolphins on the steps of Congress and his poll ratings would still bounce up like a demented Jack in the Box. If Hillary ran over a pigeon, she’d be toast.
And yet, yesterday, she managed to become the first woman in history to head the ticket for a major US party. Hillary Rodham Clinton, former first lady, now boldly goes where only men have gone before. I am old enough to remember 1984, when Geraldine Ferraro became the very first woman to stand for vice president. The thought that that heady, emotional moment was more than 30 years ago induces both vertigo and sadness.
So this should be a moment for celebration. For punching the air at the idea that, henceforth, the most powerful person on earth may need neither Y-fronts nor a Y chromosome.
Why, then, do I feel doubtful and apprehensive? Why doesn’t Hillary’s victory provoke the same sense of wonderment and possibility that the selection of Barack Obama did? Is an older white woman’s elevation so much less exciting than that of a younger, black man? As Allyson Hobbs asked in the New Yorker: “What’s behind the shortfall of enthusiasm for Hillary Clinton?” Well, I suppose there is the scratchy feeling that she is, if not exactly damaged goods, then a used dollar Bill. Do we really want the first woman president to have been a president’s
wife? She has too much history of the wrong sort. To build up the kind of track record that would allow a woman to be trusted with the reins of a still-deeply sexist society, Hillary had to put in years of dogged work that now make her feel stale and a bit dull.
This isn’t a double standard; it’s a quadruple one. Male candidates have the licence to be brash and “authentic”. Hillary, in her sturdy court shoes, must tread carefully. Not too assertive (aggressive) or dominant (bossy, shrill), nor too friendly and sympathetic (weak). But watch out if you’re not friendly and sympathetic enough (the Ice Maiden cometh!).
Remember how, in 1992, the then first lady had to row back after she defended her decision to have a career. “I suppose I could have stayed home and baked teas,” Hillary said, “but what I decided to do was fulfil my profession, which I entered before my husband was in public life.”
It’s pretty obvious that a top lawyer who went on to be a senator in her own right, and later secretary of state, would not have spent a great deal of time in the kitchen. But powerful women are expected to embody the qualities of devoted wife and mother, while men, like the much-married Trump, are not required to be perfect husbands and fathers.
I think that’s what I’m dreading most about the Trump v Clinton battle. All those ugly, misogynist feelings that women would rather not think about will surface from their dripping caves. We can expect Trump, who once accused a female interviewer of “bleeding from wherever”, to get low-down and personal. When Hillary was running last time, one pundit explained that men in Iowa were picking Obama over Clinton “because of her nagging voice”. When Barack Obama speaks, men hear: “Take off for the future.” And when Hillary Clinton speaks, men hear: “Take out the garbage.”
A voice coach was drafted in to teach Margaret Thatcher to lower her voice for that exact reason. Sound like a man to be taken seriously, honey.
Saturday Night Live, a favourite US satirical show, has a sketch that shows Hillary getting ready for bed. “Mmm, get into something nice and cosy,” she murmurs, then slips between the sheets wearing her red pants suit. The joke is that Hillary is an automaton, incapable of relaxing. But the sketch has a kick of sadness. Here, after all, is the creature wrought by politics and public opinion. The candidate who has done what is necessary to make herself acceptable in a world that finds female power unsettling and even distasteful.
“Unsex me here,” cries Lady Macbeth, willing all femininity to leave her body so that she may be as deadly as the male. In the week when
Forbes published its World’s Most Powerful Women List, we should consider the extent to which ambitious females must still repress their true selves. That’s not Hillary Clinton’s problem, that’s our problem.
She once said: “It is past time for women to take their rightful place, side by side with men, in the rooms where the fates of peoples, where their children’s and grandchildren’s fates, are decided.”
The price of admission to those rooms is very great. I hope she makes it. I really do.