Obama must now make gun control his legacy

Before the public outrage over the Connecticut shooting dissipates, the president must take a stand.

Yesterday morning, a twenty-year-old man in Connecticut woke up, dressed, and stepped out into the cold grey dawn. Then he walked to Sandy Hook Elementary School, and he shot and killed twenty children and six adults, including his mother – to whom his guns belonged – in cold blood. Then, he shot himself.

Soon after the news of the attack broke, White House press secretary Jay Carney released a statement. It said, inexplicably: “today is not the day to talk about gun control.”

Some have pointed out that madmen with guns are not unique to the United States. They point to Dunblane, or Anders Breivik. But after Dunblane, the UK banned handguns – and there has not been a similar attack since. In Britain last year, the sum total of death from gun crime was 39.

In the US, that total was eleven thousand, one hundred and one, and this year is on track to be even higher. Look at it this way: if the Connecticut attack was the only shooting yesterday, then the day's death toll would actually be below average. More people are murdered with guns every year in America than the total number of US military casualties in Iraq and Afghanistan since 2001. More than twice as many people die from firearm homicide as in September 11th and Pearl Harbour combined. 31 people are murdered with a gun here every day; and these numbers don't even count accidental deaths. Just murder.

There are countries rent by sectarian violence or war where this is higher, but to my knowledge nowhere is this level of death considered business as usual – or defended as an inalienable right. Many here don't seem able to make the connection that more guns means more shootings. Some have even suggested that tragedy would have been averted had the teachers or others near the scene had guns, turning a blind eye, apparently, to the fact that the guns used belonged to the killer's mother, one of the victims, and were bought legally.

Here's the rub: Guns don't kill people. People kill people. Guns just make it exponentially easier.

The US's love affair with firearms dates back to its independence, the wars with Britain and with Mexico, and its wild frontiers where a gun was a vital tool for self-defence. The right to bear arms is enshrined in the second amendment to the constitution, signed by Thomas Jefferson and adopted into law in 1791. It reads: “A well regulated militia being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed”

The US courts have largely ignored the “well-regulated militia” part of the amendment, however, and choose instead to interpret the constitution as upholding as inalienable an individual's right to carry deadly weapons, from pistols to hunting rifles all the way to military-spec thousand-rounds-a-minute assault weapons.

The killer at Sandy Hook was carrying two pistols and a Bushmaster M4 semi-automatic assault carbine rifle, a weapon designed specifically to get around the 1994-2004 assault weapons ban. It bears about as close a resemblance to “arms” that Thomas Jefferson would have recognised as a hundred-ton battle tank does to a warhorse.

Obama must now make gun-control his legacy. With no further elections to win, and a reinforced popular mandate, as well as the public outrage that will follow from Sandy Hook, an American president will see few opportunities as good as this to force tighter controls on America's gun-owning public. A ban is extreme and impossible; but severe restrictions on assault weapons and high-powered rifles, as well as stricter licensing, tests and registration procedures, would improve the situation. This time does feel different. Vigils are in place at the White House calling for gun control, and an online petition to change the law has already reached 25,000 signatures; the threshold for a government response.

But the gun lobby is extremely powerful. Just three days ago, a circuit court ruled that an Illinois handgun ban was unconstitutional – the case was funded by the National Rifle Association, who have political leverage over much of Congress, too. Their political sway is enormous. In the last election, the NRA outspent all gun-control groups by twelve to one.

If Obama doesn't make a real stand today, the response to this tragedy will be grimly predictable. There will be speechifying in which his sympathy is offered “as a parent” and action vaguely promised. Politicians will proffer their prayers and their tears. But nothing will change.

“As a country, we've been through this too many times,” Obama said in a statement yesterday afternoon, and his voice cracked with genuine emotion. But behind the scenes, he will be being told that any sweeping gun-control legislation is practically a non-starter, especially during fragile negotiations on the fiscal cliff. Of course, gun control can wait, but the debt cieling - that must be dealt with without delay. Gun control can always wait.

But if this very real sense of national anger is not capitalised upon, America will sigh and it will dwindle; just like after Clackamas, after Oak Creek, after Aurora, after Oikos, after Seal Beach, after Tucson, after Fort Hood, after Binghampton, afterBrookfield, after Meridian, after Wedgewood, after Virginia Tech, and after Columbine. The media will briefly obsess over trivial details in the killer's life story, then wring its hands and agonise about its coverage, and then swiftly forget as the cycle turns.

And in six months or a year, another kid with a grievance will pick up another assault rifle, take a breath, and step out into another cold grey dawn.

A candle light vigil outside the White House to remember the victims at the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting in Newtown, Connecticut. Photograph: Getty Images.

Nicky Woolf is a writer for the Guardian based in the US. He tweets @NickyWoolf.

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Angela Merkel's call for a burqa ban sets a disturbing precedent

The German chancellor's plan for a partial ban of the full-face veil is a clearly political move, which will do more to harm those women who wear it than protect them.

 

In these febrile times, women’s freedom and autonomy has become a bargaining chip in the poker game of public propaganda — and that goes double for brown, Muslim and migrant women. Angela Merkel should know as well as any other female politician how demeaning it is to be treated as if what you wear is more important than what you say and what you do. With the far-right on the rise across Europe, however, the German chancellor has become the latest lawmaker to call for a partial ban on the burqa and niqab.

We are told that this perennial political football is being kicked about in the name of liberating women. It can have nothing to do, of course, with the fact that popular opinion is lurching wildly to the right in western democracies, there’s an election in Germany next year, and Merkel is seen as being too soft on migration after her decision to allow a million Syrian refugees to enter the country last year. She is also somehow blamed for the mob attacks on women in Cologne, which have become a symbol of the threat that immigration poses to white women and, by extension, to white masculinity in Europe. Rape and abuse perpetrated by white Europeans, of course, is not considered a matter for urgent political intervention — nor could it be counted on to win back voters who have turned from Merkel's party to the far-right AFD, which wants to see a national debate on abortion rights and women restricted to their rightful role as mothers and homemakers.

If you’ll allow me to be cynical for a moment, imposing state restrictions on what women may and may not wear in public has not, historically, been a great foundation for feminist liberation. The move is symbolic, not practical. In Britain, where the ban is also being proposed by Ukip the services that actually protect women from domestic violence have been slashed over the past six years — the charity Refuge, the largest provider of domestic violence services in the UK, has seen a reduction in funding across 80% of its service contracts since 2011.

It’s worth noting that even in western countries with sizeable Muslim minorities, the number of women who wear full burqa is vanishingly small. If those women are victims of coercion or domestic violence, banning the burqa in public will not do a thing to make them safer — if anything, it will reduce their ability to leave their homes, isolating them further.

In the wake of the Brexit vote, racist and Islamophobic attacks spiked in the UK. Hate crimes nationally shot up by 42% in the two weeks following the vote on 23 June. Hate crimes against Muslim women increased by over 300%, with visibly Muslim women experiencing 46% of all hate incidents. Instances of headscarves being ripped off have become so common that self-defense videos are being shared online, showing women how to deflect the “hijab grab”. In this context, it is absurd to claim that politicians proposing a burqa ban care about protecting women: the move is transparently designed to placate the very people who are making Muslim women feel unsafe in their own communities.

When politicians talk about banning the burqa, the public hears an attack on all Islamic headscarves — not everyone knows the difference between the hijab, the niqab and the burqa, and not everyone cares. The important thing is that seeing women dressed that way makes some people feel uncomfortable, and desperate politicians are casting about for ways to validate that discomfort.

Women who actually wear the burqa are not invited to speak about their experiences or state their preferences in this debate. On this point, Islamic fundamentalists and panicked western conservatives are in absolute agreement: Muslim women are provocative and deserve to be treated as a threat to masculine pride. They should shut up and let other people decide what’s best for them.

I know Muslim women who regard even the simple hijab as an object of oppression and have sworn never to wear one again. I also know Muslim women who wear headscarves every day as a statement both of faith and of political defiance. There is no neutral fashion option for a woman of Islamic faith — either way, men in positions of power will feel entitled to judge, shame and threaten. Either choice risks provoking anger and violence from someone with an opinion about what your outfit means for them. The important thing is the autonomy that comes with still having a choice.

A law which treats women like children who cannot be trusted to make basic decisions about their bodies and clothing is a sexist law; a law that singles out religious minorities and women of colour as especially unworthy of autonomy is a racist, sexist law. Instituting racist, sexist laws is a good way to win back the votes of racist, sexist people, but, again, a dreadful way of protecting women. In practice, a burqa ban, even the partial version proposed by Merkel which will most likely be hard to enforce under German constitutional law, will directly impact only a few thousand people in the west. Those people are women of colour, many of them immigrants or foreigners, people whose actual lives are already of minimal importance to the state except on an abstract, symbolic level, as the embodiment of a notional threat to white Christian patriarchy. Many believe that France's longstanding burqa ban has increased racial tensions — encapsulated by the image earlier this year of French police surrounding a woman who was just trying to relax with her family on the beach in a burkini. There's definitely male violence at play here, but a different kind — a kind that cannot be mined for political capital, because it comes from the heart of the state.

This has been the case for centuries: long before the US government used the term“Operation Enduring Freedom” to describe the war in Afghanistan, western politicians used the symbolism of the veil to recast the repeated invasion of Middle Eastern nations as a project of feminist liberation. The same colonists who justified the British takeover of Islamic countries abroad were active in the fight to suppress women’s suffrage at home. This is not about freeing women, but about soothing and coddling men’s feelings about women.

The security argument is even more farcical: border guards are already able to strip people of their clothes, underwear and dignity if they get the urge. If a state truly believes that facial coverings are some sort of security threat, it should start by banning beards, but let's be serious, masculinity is fragile enough as it is. If it were less so, we wouldn't have politicians panicking over how to placate the millions of people who view the clothing choices of minority and migrant women as an active identity threat.

Many decent, tolerant people, including feminists, are torn on the issue of the burqa: of course we don't want the state to start policing what women can and can't wear, but isn't the burqa oppressive? Maybe so, but I was not aware of feminism as a movement that demands that all oppressive clothing be subject to police confiscation, unless the Met’s evidence lockers are full of stilettos, girdles and push-up bras. In case you're wondering, yes, I do feel uncomfortable on the rare occasions when I have seen people wearing the full face veil in public. I've spent enough time living with goths and hippies that I've a high tolerance for ersatz fashion choices — but do wonder what their home lives are like and whether they are happy and safe, and that makes me feel anxious. Banning the burqa might make me feel less anxious. It would not, however, improve the lives of the women who actually wear it. That is what matters. My personal feelings as a white woman about how Muslim women choose to dress are, in fact, staggeringly unimportant.

If you think the Burqa is oppressive and offensive, you are perfectly entitled never to wear one. You are not, however, entitled to make that decision for anyone else. Exactly the same principle applies in the interminable battle over women's basic reproductive choices: many people believe that abortion is wrong, sinful and damaging to women. That's okay. I suggest they never have an abortion. What's not okay is taking away that autonomy from others as a cheap ploy for good press coverage in the runup to an election.

This debate has been dragging on for decades, but there's a new urgency to it now, a new danger: we are now in a political climate where the elected leaders of major nations are talking about registries for Muslims and other minorities. Instituting a symbolic ban on religious dress, however extreme, sets a precedent. What comes next? Are we going to ban every form of Islamic headdress? What about the yarmulke, the tichel, the Sikh turban, the rainbow flag? If this is about community cohesion, what will it take to make white conservatives feel “comfortable”? Where does it stop? Whose freedoms are politicians prepared to sacrifice as a sop to a populace made bitter and unpredictable by 30 years of neoliberal incompetence? Where do we draw the line?

We draw it right here, between the state and the autonomy of women, particularly minority and migrant women who are already facing harassment in unprecedented numbers. Whatever you feel about the burqa, it is not the role of government to police what women wear, and doing it has nothing to do with protection. It is chauvinist, it is repressive, it is a deeply disturbing precedent, and it has no place in our public conversation.

 
 
 
 

Laurie Penny is a contributing editor to the New Statesman. She is the author of five books, most recently Unspeakable Things.