Article content The U.S election dust has yet to settle. It still covers those who are joyful about the results just as much as those who are anything but.
Many pundits say the election was a landslide. But there’s another way of looking at it. For the second time in eight years, a woman came close to becoming the most powerful person in the world.
Like many who have followed the election, I’m exhausted by the too many hot takes on what Kamala Harris did wrong, what she could have done better and how the Democratic party can pick itself up, post-defeat. What is often lost in the over-analysis is how the expectations for Harris, a one-time Montrealer, were much different than those of previous presidential candidates, besides Hillary Clinton, in 2016. Gender bias has been defined as favouritism toward or prejudice against a particular gender.
It’s not just the higher expectations. It’s the violence against women in politics. One can certainly criticize Harris for her proposed programs, but to call her the B-word? And the C-word? And all the other words and the suggested violent acts against her? This kind of conduct is enough to chase capable, formidable women out of politics.
Violence against women helps explain the abysmal numbers shared by the United Nations last September on women in political leadership roles. Among them: that only 27 countries are led by a woman and that women make up only 23 per cent of cabinet members heading ministries worldwide. And just 15 countries have cabinets with parity between women and men.
It took 375 years for Montreal to elect a woman to the mayor’s office. And despite the city’s avant-garde nature, Valérie Plante endured so much digital violence she decided to restrict comments on her social media platforms . That’s not my vision of avant-gardism.
In 1993, when basketball great Michael Jordan announced his retirement, he famously said — echoing a song by blues great B.B. King — that the thrill of the game was gone as justification for his exit.
At a press conference in October, Plante announced to the gathered press corps that she would not seek a third term next year, saying that despite loving her job, she couldn’t guarantee the same level of energy that she has always given. For her, too, it seemed the thrill had gone. Being mayor is a taxing job under the best of circumstances, like most other positions in public office.
But it is all the more so in this age of social media, making the job a seven-days-a-week, 24-hours-a-day proposition. And add to that, the vitriol. Once the news of her departure made the rounds, Plante’s decision drew mostly praise.
Thankfully, self-care is du jour these days. But what about her legacy? How will it be judged? From the environment to bike paths, will Plante be given her due? And will the criticism — which has its place — be fair? The report card we will collectively give Plante could help determine how the future of municipal politics in Montreal will be shaped and who will decide to be part of it. When I hear pundits criticize Harris, who in 107 days raised $1 billion and galvanized the Democratic party, millions of Americans and many more across the word, I’m lost for words.
Not because I think she was faultless — no one is — but rather because she was remarkable. I hope the type of grace she wasn’t granted will make its way to Plante. The two women are very different and the comparison perhaps starts and ends at their gender, but that commonality is not banal.
Plante has had enough success to deserve praise, and giving her her due is the best way to keep the door open for future women candidates. Martine St-Victor is the general manager of Edelman Montréal and a media commentator. Instagram and X @martinemontreal.
Politics
Martine St-Victor: Harris, Plante and the future of women in politics
Both have been subjected to the kind of vitriol reserved for women in positions of power. We can't let that stop the female leaders of tomorrow.