Hating Hillary

Gloating, unshackled sexism of the ugliest kind has been shamelessly peddled by the US media, which

History, I suspect, will look back on the past six months as an example of America going through one of its collectively deranged episodes - rather like Prohibition from 1920-33, or McCarthyism some 30 years later. This time it is gloating, unshackled sexism of the ugliest kind. It has been shamelessly peddled by the US media, which - sooner rather than later, I fear - will have to account for their sins. The chief victim has been Senator Hillary Clinton, but the ramifications could be hugely harmful for America and the world.

I am no particular fan of Clinton. Nor, I think, would friends and colleagues accuse me of being racist. But it is quite inconceivable that any leading male presidential candidate would be treated with such hatred and scorn as Clinton has been. What other senator and serious White House contender would be likened by National Public Radio's political editor, Ken Rudin, to the demoniac, knife-wielding stalker played by Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction? Or described as "a fucking whore" by Randi Rhodes, one of the foremost personalities of the supposedly liberal Air America? Could anybody have envisaged that a website set up specifically to oppose any other candidate would be called Citizens United Not Timid? (We do not need an acronym for that.)

I will come to the reasons why I fear such unabashed misogyny in the US media could lead, ironically, to dreadful racial unrest. "All men are created equal," Thomas Jefferson famously proclaimed in 1776. That equality, though, was not extended to women, who did not even get the vote until 1920, two years after (some) British women. The US still has less gender equality in politics than Britain, too. Just 16 of America's 100 US senators are women and the ratio in the House (71 out of 435) is much the same. It is nonetheless pointless to argue whether sexism or racism is the greater evil: America has a peculiarly wicked record of racist subjugation, which has resulted in its racism being driven deep underground. It festers there, ready to explode again in some unpredictable way.

To compensate meantime, I suspect, sexism has been allowed to take its place as a form of discrimination that is now openly acceptable. "How do we beat the bitch?" a woman asked Senator John McCain, this year's Republican presidential nominee, at a Republican rally last November. To his shame, McCain did not rebuke the questioner but joined in the laughter. Had his supporter asked "How do we beat the nigger?" and McCain reacted in the same way, however, his presidential hopes would deservedly have gone up in smoke. "Iron my shirt," is considered amusing heckling of Clinton. "Shine my shoes," rightly, would be hideously unacceptable if yelled at Obama.

Evidence to the contrary notwithstanding, American men like to delude themselves that they are the most macho in the world. It is simply unthinkable, therefore, for most of them to face the prospect of having a woman as their leader. The massed ranks of male pundits gleefully pronounced that Clinton had lost the battle with Obama immediately after the North Carolina and Indiana primaries, despite past precedents that strong second-place candidates (like Ronald Reagan in his first, ultimately unsuccessful campaign in 1976; like Ted Kennedy, Gary Hart, Jesse Jackson and Jerry Brown) continue their campaigns until the end of the primary season and, in most cases, all the way to the party convention.

None of these male candidates had a premature political obituary written in the way that Hillary Clinton's has been, or was subjected to such righteous outrage over refusing to quiesce and withdraw obediently from what, in this case, has always been a knife-edge race. Nor was any of them anything like as close to his rivals as Clinton now is to Obama.

The media, of course, are just reflecting America's would-be macho culture. I cannot think of any television network or major newspaper that is not guilty of blatant sexism - the British media, naturally, reflexively follow their American counterparts - but probably the worst offender is the NBC/MSNBC network, which has what one prominent Clinton activist describes as "its nightly horror shows". Tim Russert, the network's chief political sage, was dancing on Clinton's political grave before the votes in North Carolina and Indiana had even been fully counted - let alone those of the six contests to come, the undeclared super-delegates, or the disputed states of Florida and Michigan.

The unashamed sexism of this giant network alone is stupendous. Its superstar commentator Chris Matthews referred to Clinton as a "she-devil". His colleague Tucker Carlson casually observed that Clinton "feels castrating, overbearing and scary . . . When she comes on television, I involuntarily cross my legs." This and similar abuse, I need hardly point out, says far more about the men involved than their target.

Knives out

But never before have the US media taken it upon themselves to proclaim the victor before the primary contests are over or the choice of all the super-delegates is known, and the result was that the media's tidal wave of sexism became self-fulfilling: Americans like to back winners, and polls immediately showed dramatic surges of support for Obama. A few brave souls had foreseen the merciless media campaign: "The press will savage her no matter what," predicted the Washington Post's national political correspondent, Dana Milbank, last December. "They really have their knives out for her, there's no question about it."

Polling organisations such as Gallup told us months ago that Americans will more readily accept a black male president than a female one, and a more recent CNN/Essence magazine/ Opinion Research poll found last month that 76 per cent think America is ready for a black man as president, but only 63 per cent believe the same of a woman.

"The image of charismatic leadership at the top has been and continues to be a man," says Ruth Mandel of Rutgers University. "We don't have an image, we don't have a historical memory of a woman who has achieved that feat."

Studies here have repeatedly shown that women are seen as ambitious and capable, or likeable - but rarely both. "Gender stereotypes trump race stereotypes in every social science test," says Alice Eagley, a psychology professor at Northwestern University. A distinguished academic undertaking a major study of coverage of the 2008 election, Professor Marion Just of Wellesley College - one of the "seven sisters" colleges founded because women were barred from the Ivy Leagues and which, coincidentally, Hillary Clinton herself attended - tells me that what is most striking to her is that the most repeated description of Senator Clinton is "cool and calculating".

This, she says, would never be said of a male candidate - because any politician making a serious bid for the White House has, by definition, to be cool and calculating. Hillary Clinton, a successful senator for New York who was re-elected for a second term by a wide margin in 2006 - and who has been a political activist since she campaigned against the Vietnam War and served as a lawyer on the congressional staff seeking to impeach President Nixon - has been treated throughout the 2008 campaign as a mere appendage of her husband, never as a heavyweight politician whose career trajectory (as an accomplished lawyer and professional advocate for equality among children, for example) is markedly more impressive than those of the typical middle-aged male senator.

Rarely is she depicted as an intellectually formidable politician in her own right (is that what terrifies oafs like Matthews and Carlson?). Rather, she is the junior member of "Billary", the derisive nickname coined by the media for herself and her husband. Obama's opponent is thus not one of the two US senators for New York, but some amorphous creature called "the Clintons", an aphorism that stands for amorality and sleaze. Open season has been declared on Bill Clinton, who is now reviled by the media every bit as much as Nixon ever was.

Here we come to the crunch. Hillary Clinton (along with her husband) is being universally depicted as a loathsome racist and negative campaigner, not so much because of anything she has said or done, but because the overwhelmingly pro-Obama media - consciously or unconsciously - are following the agenda of Senator Barack Obama and his chief strategist, David Axelrod, to tear to pieces the first serious female US presidential candidate in history.

"What's particularly saddening," says Paul Krugman, professor of economics and international affairs at Princeton and a rare dissenting voice from the left as a columnist in the New York Times, "is the way many Obama supporters seem happy with the . . . way pundits and some news organisations treat any action or statement by the Clintons, no matter how innocuous, as proof of evil intent." Despite widespread reporting to the contrary, Krugman believes that most of the "venom" in the campaign "is coming from supporters of Obama".

But Obama himself prepared the ground by making the first gratuitous personal attack of the campaign during the televised Congressional Black Caucus Institute debate in South Carolina on 21 January, although virtually every follower of the media coverage now assumes that it was Clinton who started the negative attacks. Following routine political sniping from her about supposedly admiring comments Obama had made about Ronald Reagan, Obama suddenly turned on Clinton and stared intimidatingly at her. "While I was working in the streets," he scolded her, ". . . you were a corporate lawyer sitting on the board of Wal-Mart." Then, cleverly linking her inextricably in the public consciousness with her husband, he added: "I can't tell who I'm running against sometimes."

One of his female staff then distributed a confidential memo to carefully selected journalists which alleged that a vaguely clumsy comment Hillary Clinton had made about Martin Luther King ("Dr King's dream began to be realised when President Lyndon Johnson passed the Civil Rights Act of 1964") and a reference her husband had made in passing to Nelson Mandela ("I've been blessed in my life to know some of the greatest figures of the last hundred years . . . but if I had to pick one person whom I know would never blink, who would never turn back, who would make great decisions . . . I would pick Hillary") were deliberate racial taunts.

Another female staffer, Candice Tolliver - whose job it is to promote Obama to African Americans - then weighed in publicly, claiming that "a cross-section of voters are alarmed at the tenor of some of these statements" and saying: "Folks are beginning to wonder: Is this an isolated situation, or is there something bigger behind all of this?" That was game, set and match: the Clintons were racists, an impression sealed when Bill Clinton later compared Obama's victory in South Carolina to those of Jesse Jackson in 1984 and 1988 (even though Jackson himself, an Obama supporter, subsequently declared Clinton's remarks to be entirely inoffensive).

The pincer movement, in fact, could have come straight from a textbook on how to wreck a woman's presi dential election campaign: smear her whole persona first, and then link her with her angry, red-faced husband. The public Obama, characteristically, pronounced himself "unhappy" with the vilification carried out so methodically by his staff, but it worked like magic: Hillary Clinton's approval ratings among African Americans plummeted from above 80 per cent to barely 7 per cent in a matter of days, and have hovered there since.

I suspect that, as a result, she will never be able entirely to shake off the "racist" tag. "African-American super-delegates [who are supporting Clinton] are being targeted, harassed and threatened," says one of them, Representative Emanuel Cleaver. "This is the politics of the 1950s." Obama and Axelrod have achieved their objectives: to belittle Hillary Clinton and to manoeuvre the ever-pliant media into depicting every political criticism she makes against Obama as racist in intent.

The danger is that, in their headlong rush to stop the first major female candidate (aka "Hildebeast" and "Hitlery") from becoming president, the punditocracy may have landed the Democrats with perhaps the least qualified presidential nominee ever. But that creeping realisation has probably come too late, and many of the Democratic super-delegates now fear there would be widespread outrage and increased racial tension if they thwart the first biracial presidential hopeful in US history.

But will Obama live up to the hype? That, I fear, may not happen: he is a deeply flawed candidate. Rampant sexism may have triumphed only to make way for racism to rear its gruesome head in America yet again. By election day on 4 November, I suspect, the US media and their would-be-macho commentators may have a lot of soul-searching to do.

In this comment piece on sexist language in the US media in relation to Hillary Clinton Andrew Stephen suggested that Carl Bernstein had publicly declared his disgust for Hillary Clinton's thick ankles. We are informed that Carl Bernstein intended, in his biography of Hillary Clinton, to refer to comments made by others about her when she was at high school. We are happy to accept that Carl Bernstein was not motivated by sexism, and we are sorry for any embarrassment caused.

Andrew Stephen was appointed US Editor of the New Statesman in 2001, having been its Washington correspondent and weekly columnist since 1998. He is a regular contributor to BBC news programs and to The Sunday Times Magazine. He has also written for a variety of US newspapers including The New York Times Op-Ed pages. He came to the US in 1989 to be Washington Bureau Chief of The Observer and in 1992 was made Foreign Correspondent of the Year by the American Overseas Press Club for his coverage.

This article first appeared in the 26 May 2008 issue of the New Statesman, Moral crisis?

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Ruth Davidson: “Brexit could deliver a hit we can’t recover from”

The Scottish Tory leader has revitalised the party north of the border. Is she now destined to occupy the hottest seat of all?

Ruth Davidson has had a good summer. At the age of 38, she has finally bought her first house. It’s a two-bedroom mid-terrace in an Edinburgh suburb that she will share with her Irish fiancée, Jen, and their cocker spaniel, a failed gun dog called Wilson (“It’s just as well he’s handsome because, by God, he’s stupid,” she tells me). The hyperactive leader of the Scottish Conservatives is eager to put down roots. “I’ve always moved for work,” she says. “I worked out that since I left home to go to uni at 17, I’d had more than 20 flats. This is the first time I’ve had a home. It’s nice.”

On 29 August, her opposite number in the Labour Party, the well-liked Kezia Dugdale, resigned. Her replacement is likely to drag the Scottish party in a more Corbynite direction on issues such as nationalisation, taxation and public spending. This will put pressure on the SNP – now the party of choice for many disaffected Labour lefties – to do the same. That would leave space in the centre ground that Davidson’s Tories will be more than happy to fill.

“If I’m perfectly honest, I am by nature a centrist,” she says. “I’m fairly hard-core on some justice and fiscal policies. I’m a proper Tory there. But in terms of social policy and things like that, I’m absolutely a centrist. But it’s because I think it’s right. It brings people with you and, if you’re looking towards [forming a] government in a way that as a party in Scotland, five to ten years ago, we could never have conceived, it’s about bringing people with you and making the arguments for being bold and radical.”

This sounds familiar. Is the great young hope of British Conservatism a much more youthful, female version of Tony Blair? That won’t go down well in the Shires or the leader columns of the Daily Mail. “No! I didn’t go to Fettes, I don’t own… rental properties around the world, I don’t holiday with pop stars, so I don’t consider myself to be a Tory Tony Blair. There’s some things I think he did very well. I think in terms of foreign policy, his idea of humanitarian interventionism that he used in Sierra Leone and in Kosovo was bang on. It was the right thing to do and it saved lives. However, I’m probably the only Tory leader who has been on one protest march in their life and that was against the Iraq War in 2003, so there are things I don’t agree with him on. Actually, I joined the Territorial Army about a month later because I wanted to serve in some way – though not in Iraq.”

Ruth Elizabeth Davidson grew up in a Presbyterian family in Selkirk, where her father worked in a wool mill and she attended a comprehensive school. After a career in broadcast journalism, she entered politics and became leader of the Scottish Tories in 2011; she has since revitalised the party in one of the great contemporary political feats. With Davidson at the helm, a party that was wiped out in the 1997 election (it won none of Scotland’s 72 Westminster seats) and that had shown only a flicker of life since then has supplanted Labour as the official opposition at Holyrood. In June’s general election, the Tories won 13 seats (out of 59) in Scotland, an increase of 12. Between the 2015 and 2017 general elections, the Scottish Tories put on more than 320,000 votes; in the May local elections, they more than doubled their share of Scottish council seats to 276.

There is a good chance that in 2021, when the next Holyrood elections are held, Davidson will find herself leading Scotland’s largest party and becoming first minister. Already she regularly attends Theresa May’s political cabinet in London and is spoken of at Westminster as a future prime minister – some would parachute her into No 10 tomorrow if they could. Members of her small back-room team say that they are besieged by media interview requests and invitations from around the world. Everyone wants a piece of Ruth Davidson’s magic.

***

When we meet in her small office on the Conservative floor of the Scottish Parliament, I sense the low hum of military-style planning, even though Holyrood is still in recess. After ten days in Ireland, Davidson is rested and recharged. “I think along with almost every other person involved in politics [or] journalism about politics, and the voters, I went into the summer absolutely knackered. But I’m ready to go again. We’ve had a really good 18 months. We’ve had three elections where we’ve come from third to second each time, we’ve more than doubled our number of MSPs, more than doubled our number of councillors. We’ve gone 13 times our number of MPs, though that maybe talks more about the base level than anything else…”

It’s certainly true that the old joke about there being more giant pandas in Scotland (there are two) than Tory MPs (there was one) has run its course. “The pandas are going to have to do a lot of listening to Barry White music to catch up with us now.”

Yet Davidson is far from satisfied. “I don’t want this to have been a peak. This is a platform for us to build on. In the five-and-a-half years I’ve been leader, between referendums and elections, I’ve fought eight national campaigns. Scotland is tired of politicians shouting at each other with no end product, and we need to use this period – which is the first we’ve had in years with no imminent election – to reduce the temperature in Scotland and in the political discourse. We need to use it to do some of the heavy intellectual lifting that’s not been done in this place [Holyrood]. We need to start asking questions about long-term solutions in important policy areas.”

The 20th anniversary of the referendum that licensed Tony Blair’s creation of the Scottish Parliament falls on 11 September and is inevitably inspiring some reflection and soul-searching north of the border. Not many would claim that the institution’s first two decades have been a shining example of policy innovation and political daring. “Are we as a country more dynamic, braver, more advanced, better educated, with better health than 20 years ago? I’m not so sure,” says Davidson. “Honestly, I think it’s been timid. I think devolution was designed to be more ambitious than what previously existed, and I’m not sure that ambition has been realised within this building at Holyrood.”

If given the opportunity, she wants to make good on the parliament’s potential. She accuses her SNP rivals of big talk but little action: “They’ve been very good at saying whatever issue of the week they’re getting hammered on is their top priority and that they’re going to have a commission, or there’s going to be a review. At some point, you actually have to start making tough decisions.”

The day after our interview, Davidson unveiled proposals for a series of new towns in Scotland and for 25,000 homes to be built annually. On education, she wants to encourage innovation by giving head teachers autonomy over budgets. She aspires to boost the status of the teaching profession, allow high- and low-performing schools in the same localities to “buddy up”, and encourage different types of school to open, including technical and state-funded schools that opt out of local authority control.

Davidson wants to introduce Teach First, which fast-tracks high-performing graduates into the teaching profession, to Scotland. “We used to pride ourselves at being the best in the world at education. Well, let’s have a bit of humility and let’s look at what’s happening in the world that’s better than what we’re doing.

“I understand that the SNP were trying to keep a broad collective together because they were working towards the goal of independence, but it’s not good enough that an entire generation’s life chances have been thwarted because you’ve been afraid to take on the teaching unions, or you’ve been afraid to make the changes that perhaps parents wouldn’t understand and you’d have to explain to them.”

Measures to tie the NHS and social care together will receive proper attention in the next few years, she says, as will the economy. “Part of centrism is about understanding the need for private industry, private enterprise, free trade, the idea that you can lift all boats. Inequality in the UK is at its lowest level for 36 years, but it doesn’t feel like that to people out there. They see these millionaire footballers or Russian oligarchs in London with their gold-plated Bentleys while they’re struggling and that disconnect is really tough.”

The ambition is clear, although the dissimulation and cant of the conventional political interview are replaced by a refreshing frankness. “We’re getting ready to change from a strong opposition to looking like an alternative government of Scotland,” she says. “We don’t look like that now. We know that. We’ve got a lot of work to do, but we’re up for it. I have to make sure I’ve got the team, the vision, the policies, the ideas, and that we’ve got the tone right – the civility that we can bring back into politics in Scotland, because it’s been at fever pitch for a really long time.”

She continues: “We have people who are serious, thoughtful, who probably ten years ago wouldn’t have changed career to do politics. But this big, cataclysmic referendum [in 2014] happened where people said, ‘The Scotland I want is worth fighting for.’ Whether you were for Yes or No, it dominated so much that a lot of people who would have just sat on the sofa and shouted at Question Time decided to get off their backsides and do something about it.”

In Scotland’s predominantly leftist political culture, there are those for whom a Tory – centrist or otherwise – can never be anything more than a stone-hearted friend of the moneyed elites. Davidson’s electoral success and personal popularity are all the more luminous when contrasted with the miscalculations and missteps that have gored the reputations of several senior London colleagues, including the Prime Minister and the Foreign Secretary.

Davidson says she isn’t worried about cross-contamination, but an indication of how Westminster decisions can trip her up came earlier this year when the UK government announced plans to restrict child tax credits to the first two children. An exemption was announced for women whose third child was a result of rape, but campaigners were furious that victims would be expected to prove their circumstances to the DWP.

Davidson defended the so-called “rape clause” and found herself in a difficult spot. “It was said I looked uncomfortable talking about it – well, yes. But do I want to make sure people who have had children in the very worst circumstances have the financial support that they need? Yes, I do. Nobody was putting forward a better way of doing this.”

Were her opponents in Scotland using the issue to tarnish her reputation? “Look, I’m not going to say that. But it’s interesting that even Jeremy Corbyn didn’t think it was an issue on the campaign trail.”

***

Davidson was a staunch Remainer. She aggressively debated Tory Leaver colleagues during the referendum campaign – most notably roughing up Boris Johnson, for whom she has little time, at a debate at Wembley Arena in London. She accepts that Brexit “is going to happen. You’ve got no major political party likely to be in government advocating that it doesn’t happen and no electoral event that would give them the mandate to stop it before it happens.”

Yet she is far from uncritical of the government’s performance. Of the fraught beginning to the Brexit negotiations, she says, “I think one of the things the UK government didn’t do that they should have done was pitch-roll this: remind the British public that when it comes to European negotiations – and we’ve had several decades of them – we are told no until five past midnight and then suddenly a deal gets done in the wee small hours of the morning. I don’t think the country was prepared for this period that we’re currently in. People in a room talking and then walking out and up to a bank of microphones and saying entirely different things while standing next to each other is part of what negotiation is. I think the UK government has not just an obligation but a duty to negotiate as hard as they can on behalf of the country.”

What is her biggest concern about the impact of Brexit? She pauses. “Interesting question… My real fear is that if there’s a short-term economic hit, we don’t bounce back from it.”

Would she like a prolonged transition period during which Britain maintains access to the single market? “I’m for free trade and want to make sure that people from Scotland and the UK have access to – and the greatest ability to operate within – the single market, which I believe are the exact words the Prime Minister used in her Lancaster House speech back in January. The mechanism for how we get to that I’m less aerated about, as long as that’s where we get to.”

We have reached, at last, a mention of the invisible Prime Minister, in office but not in power, counting down the days until her colleagues decide to free her from the burden of empty leadership. I say that it’s brave of Theresa May to get on with the job each day. It can’t be fun. “She’s absolutely straight down the line,” Davidson says. “She’s not a game player. And the kind of clichés that you hear about her, about her believing in service and public duty, are absolutely true. Everything that she said about being there for the long haul, as long as the party and the country want her – she will get up and she will put in a shift.”

Could Davidson end up occupying that hottest of seats? David Cameron once told me that he “never put a limit on her abilities and ambitions. She has got what it takes in politics. She’s got oomph, she’s got spirit, she’s got brains.”

One friend who has watched her astonishing progress concedes that even Davidson has been surprised by her success. “She has had to get her head around how good she is and how much potential she has – that she can play on the biggest of stages. Each time we think she’s reached a plateau, she climbs the next one. I genuinely think she could do just about anything she wants to, and maybe she’s starting to believe that.”

For Ruth Davidson, the next plateau is in sight. “When 2021 comes around, people will be looking for a first minister, and the option they’re going to have is Nicola Sturgeon again or me,” she says. It’s a remarkable statement, given recent history, to come from the lips of a Scottish Tory leader – but she means it, and we should take her seriously.

Chris Deerin is the New Statesman's contributing editor (Scotland). 

This article first appeared in the 26 May 2008 issue of the New Statesman, Moral crisis?