Say what you will about Margaret Thatcher’s policies: the fact remains that she was a key political figure of the 20th century. She was the United Kingdom’s (UK) first female Prime Minister (PM) and served the longest term of any PM in the 20th century. Depending on your political views, she was either a shrewd and capable leader, or a ruthless enemy of the working class.

She was not, however, a feminist.

Yet in an article for Slate.com, Lionel Shriver argues that Thatcher was. Criticizing the feminist movement for its “combative rhetoric” and “moldy debate,” Shriver says that it is no wonder many young women shun the label. She writes that the Iron Lady was a “real feminist,” because “she didn’t just talk. She did things.”

She purports that if there were more “‘feminists’ like Thatcher,” then “young women would be clamoring to be called one, too.” I, however, think that more individuals would be clamoring to be called feminists if uninformed people would stop telling us feminists what it is we believe in.

Shriver dubs Thatcher’s forceful approach “muscular feminism,” as if traditional feminism were just some flabby piece of atrophied flesh hanging off of the otherwise-toned body of humanity. The supposed muscularity of Thatcher’s viewpoint, however, was not based in feminism, but in individualism, the philosophy she brought to her position and which inspires conservatives to this day.

She was, in actuality, decidedly anti-feminist, and once referred to feminism as “poison.” She certainly did not give feminists any credit for her success, and as Prime Minister didn’t work to improve women’s status in the UK.

Shriver notes that Thatcher “did not pursue justice for her gender; women’s rights per se was clearly a low priority for her. She was out for herself and for what she believed in.”
Ignoring the fact that Shriver contradicts herself, according to her definition of feminism, all a woman has to do in order to be a feminist is to “do things.”

What does “doing things” mean, exactly?

In this case, it seems to entail engaging in traditionally masculine activities. According to this narrow-minded and chauvinistic view, to be a feminist is to mute your femininity and become like a man. This picture reinforces the stereotype of women as weak and suggests that the powerful woman is an oxymoron.

Prominent female leaders and the “strong female characters” of pop culture are often labeled as paradigm feminists (with a capital F) and given the false responsibility to represent all feminists, and thus all women. Hillary Clinton suffers from it, as does Katniss Everdeen, Katie Couric, Xena the Warrior Princess — as well as all their girl-powered ilk.

Though these women are for the most part solid role models for young women, the idea that only women who are exaggeratedly “strong,” or otherwise portray related “masculine” virtues can be feminists, is incredibly detrimental, not only to the movement, but to women in general.

Under this model of feminism, stay-at-home mothers, teachers or women who engage in traditionally “feminine” enterprises are considered weak. In this picture, those women are neither feminists nor role models, though in real life they are usually both.

Although the more radical feminists of Thatcher’s time had difficulty making this distinction themselves, modern feminists have embraced a more diverse picture of what strength means for women and for feminism. It seems that Shriver has yet to catch up.
Those who would call Thatcher a feminist praise her for defying gender stereotypes.

Though, Shriver points out, most women seek harmony and want to be liked, Thatcher didn’t care about being nice and was more concerned with her competence as a leader and ability to intimidate her opponents. She seems to take Thatcher’s uncompromising style of leadership to be an indicator of “strong female character” syndrome.

But Thatcher was not a feminist just because she (unknowingly and unappreciatively) took advantage of the benefits of feminism on her way to the top. Her ambition and success was made possible by feminism, but that certainly does not make her the face of it.

People who try to define what makes one a “real feminist” continue the harmful practice of pigeon-holing women into oversimplified roles. Not all strong women are allies of feminism, and not all women who embrace traditional female gender roles are enemies of the movement. Thatcher is evidence to this fact.

The point is that there is no such thing as a “real feminist.” Some women aspire to be the leaders of nations; others happily choose to be stay-at-home mothers. Many women pursue paths between these two stereotypical extremes. All of these women can be feminists, because one of the goals of feminism is to allow women to be who they choose to be, not what people like Shriver think they should be.

Hannah Sparks is a Collegian columnist. She can be reached at [email protected].