Author Archives: Natalie Bennett

Who are you calling a mob?

From the delights of the London Library, I’ve been reading The Street as Stage: Protest Marchs and Public Rallies since the Nineteenth Century edited by Matthias Reiss (Oxford 2007). It draws on a number of disciplines – history of course, but also social psychologists (interested in “the crowd” long before historians, historical geography and sociologists. It claims the march as initially a 19th-century Western phenomenon, one that travelled the world in the 20th.

It says that there’s nothing very new in the internationalised anti-globalisation movement – the Hambach Festival of 1832, seen as a key starting point, saw the involvement of marchers from all over the German states, as well as Poland, France and Britain. Cazech nationalists in Bohemia in the 1860s and 1870s modelled their mass meetings on the Irish efforts of the 1840s – even (almost) adopting the English word “meetingy”.

The suffragist tradition of marches – with particular iconography and symbols, started in Britain but spread around the world. Since women involved in public protest was considered particularly non-respectable, associated with mob rule, revolution, and invasion of “male” space, they were particularly keen to march in formation, sometimes in almost military style, to stress order and even social class in the arrangement of participants.

“The crowd” was often pathologised, and victimised by the state, which often worked out in the demonstrators’ favour. Police violence against the British Hunger Marchers of 1932 and the arrest of two of their leaders under a 600-year-old law led to the creation of the Council for Civil Liberties.

The survey of the shitory of the discipline of crowd psychology I found particularly interesting: Its founder on this account was Gustave Le Bon, whose The Crowd was published in 1895, arguing that within the anonymity of the crowd, people lose their individual identity and hence their capacity for reason and judgement, making them incapable of resisting any passing idea or, especially, emotion. The impulses that will take hold are primitive and violent. (His aim was to turn this passion from radicalism to nationalism.)

Reicher and Stott in this chapter write:
“Today… there remain many who share his assumptions without realising the consequences. Most fundamentally, Le Bon’s decontextualisation of the crowd is underpinned by a desocializd characterization of the human self. Thus, an individual identity is characterized as the sole basis of controlled action. The operaion of this identity may be affected by social factors … however the identity itself is sovereign and independent of society… Crowds can act only randomly and crowd action must be meaningless.” (p.28-9)

Yet the authors say, in everything from food riots to the barbarism of St Bartholomew’s Day in France in 1572, crowds act within ways that are “logical” – food is only seized from merchants and sources perceived to have broken “fair” rules; the methods of killing on the Day drew on the respective Catholic and Protestant theologies of heresy – the crowds behaved in ways they saw as right and proper.

Presented as an alternative to Le Bon is the idea of social identity, wchih “envisages a complex system of identity and a shift to a different level of identity in the group… we all have multiple social identities corresponding to the different social categories with which we identify.”

The writers suggest that to be the leader of a crowd, it is necessary to first convince people that he or she is typical of the group and hence able to interpret their social identity, or even better prototypical – “entrepeneurs of identity”. Both crowd and “leader” are determining the meaning of a common “we”. Both are actors.

And they note that while the focus tends to be on crowds that contribute to historical change, they also contribute to historical continuity (coronation, jubilee etc).

The chapter on suffrage marches notes that in addition to publicizing the cause, the suffragists were moulded into a collectivity by their participation.

Carnival of Feminists No 56

Drumroll, flourish of trumpets … the full works. The Carnival of Feminists No 56 is now up on Redemption Blues.

If you know the author, Chameleon, it won’t surprise you to know that it’s huge, it’s carefully thought out, and just generally spectacular.

Particularly notable is a fine collection of abortion-related posts, and broad coverage of the US election gender issues.

But don’t waste time here – do go over there and check it out!

More on the bluestockings

Celebrating the Brilliant Women exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery, the Oxford Dictionary of Biography is providing for free a collection of their biographies.

Women, nature and history: combining my interests

When I came across a description of Sylvia Bowerbanks’ Speaking for Nature: Women and Ecologies of Early Modern England, as a book combining women’s and ecological history, I had to lay hands on it. Which isn’t to say I didn’t have my doubts: would this be one of those books that seeks to imprint, wholly inappropriately, modern thoughts and approaches into history? But I needn’t have worried, for this is an impeccable well though-out, academic book, that examines its characters in the terms of their own time, while applying understanding and research of the following centuries.

Bowerbanks begins by explaining that she wants to go back into history to seek the origins of the apparent modern links between women and nature. If, as Ynestra King claimed in “The Eco-Feminist Imperative”, women are “the repository of a sensibility” that can save the planet, where does this begin, what does it go back to?

Of course in early modern times the talk was not of “environment”, but “nature”.

“In theory, woman remained the subordinate mediatrix between man and nature and yet, even this degraded placement afforded her compensatory powers. Insofar as woman was ‘man’ on the one hand, she could potentially lay claim to agency in the modern project to civilise nature. Insofar as she was ‘nature’, she could lay claim to a special capacity to speak for nature – especially as men began to pride themselves on their increasing detachment from nature. Furthermore, insofar as woman was both ‘nature’ and ‘man’, she could critique the modern project of mastery, even as she reached towards a distinctive knowledge of nature, based on the radicalized concept of compassion that might be termed the beginning of an ecological sensibility.” (p4-5)

Bowerbanks begins with Mary Wroth’s The Countess of Montgomeries Urania (1621), walking to the famed Penshurst (immortalised by Ben Jonson’s economium, which has the estate as a haven of balance of the human and natural orders. Yet, she explains, this was no such haven for the young Mary, who as a girl was whipped around England and the Continent, which marks Wroth’s work, which has “an extistential homelessness, together with a longing for a lost past”. (P.30) This nostalgia, Bowerbanks suggests, develops as a tool for early capitalism/consumer culture – the grieving for a lost green world can encourage the purchase of attempts to recover it.

And for Wroth, nature herself participates in this grieving, a labour mostly performed for Wroth by women, becomes at one with it. e.g. Liana lies “her head on the roote of a weeping willow, which dropped downe her teares into the Christalline streames…Shee lay betweene the body of that sad tree, and the river which passed close by it, running as if in haste to carry their sorroes from them” (p.34)

This was published in the same year as Robert Burton’s Anatomy of Melancholy, but Urania is profoundly modern – a symptom of malaise and scepticism, whereas for Burton it was medieval, rooted in sin.

For while Wroth often seems to wallow in the disappearing pleasures of the aristocratic hunt, the absolute powers granted to her class by the forest laws, which were gradually being eroded, she’s also, Bowerbanks finds, questioning, critical: “evokes an environment — so abundant, so various, so yielding and so flattering to a noble woman’s charms — she does so to expose the grim realities of rape, abuse, violence and alienation that, in every grove, threaten woman’s safety and well-being.”(p. 50)

For Margaret Cavendish, Duchess of Newcastle, recently recovered as a serious, original 17th-century thinker from the ridicule of centuries, there’s also this sense of loss, but also a clear desire to modernise, to reinvent, in line with the “male science” of the time from which she was firmly rebuffed. One of her interests was Sherwood Forest, which together with similar stretches of previous royal land by the Civil War was being steadily and indiscriminately used up. The great oaks of Welbeck Park were the particular focus.
read more »

Good and bad news

Two cases of serious female bravery out of Afghanistan: first, the case of the only female athlete who will be competing for the country in the Beijing OLympics, Mehboba Andyar. She’s not going to win a medal, but she deserves a thousand medals, and hopefully her example will help to inspire many of her countrywomen. She’s getting death threats, she has to run after dark, but she’s refusing to give. up.

Second, and this may be the only time that a television talent show will be praised here, there’s also real bravery in the women who chose to compete in the Afghan version of The X-Factor. They too didn’t win, but I’ll bet they inspired many young women to think they could have some sort of public place.

One of the semi-finalists was a Pashtun woman from Kandahar, Lima Sahar, who had learnt to sing in secret and who, in spite of appearing on television as an aspiring entertainer, still wore a burqa in her conservative home town. She faced hate mail from those who regarded her participation as blasphemy, although her bravery won her a broad fan base too. One girl in the audience said: ‘I’m voting for her courage, not her voice.’

Then the bad news, the last undergraduate women’s studies course in Britain is finishing this year. This less than charitable piece from the Independent suggests it is because the subject hasn’t moved with the times, but I suspect the growing interest in degrees being vocationally orientated has more to do with it. And it’s not of course the end of women’s studies – it is incorporated in the mainstream to a great extent. (Although I wonder if the sociology lecturer who 15 years ago told me “radical feminism has nothing to offer sociology” is still peddling the same line.)

The pleasures and pains of leafletting

Having been out quite a bit lately, have been musing on the above – the pleasures being the (re)discovery of little local gems.

I’ve just returned from the Drummond Street area with a backpack as bulky as that with which I left, having exchanged my copies of London Green News for a collection of spices and frozen Indian dishes from the excellent grocer on that road. Somehow they’ve crammed even more into the shop than last time I was there, and getting around the store requires a constant chorus of “sorry”, “excuse me”, “pardon”, but it’s worth it.

And down on Lamb’s Conduit Street at an ungodly hour on Monday night (the leaflets had to go out before the election official started on Tuesday), I found a little health food place advertising gluten-free pastries. Having had to give up pies with gluten, the thought of reacquainting myself with them is mouth-watering.

As for the pains, well I have been wondering if you could sue the owner if your fingers were taken off in their letterbox flap. And deciding that possibly the most irritating thing is trudging down another set of dodgy basement steps, only to discover there’s no letter flap…