In 1989, a schoolgirl asked Gerald Ford what advice he had for a young lady wanting to become US president, as he had been. “It won’t happen in the normal course of events,” he predicted. Instead, a man would win the presidency with a female running mate, and the woman would take over because the man would die in office. After that, he suggested, men would have to fight hard to even become the nominee.
Video of that encounter went viral after Joe Biden quit his re-election bid and Democrats rallied behind Kamala Harris. Ford’s prediction and his acknowledgment that female politicians are unfairly dismissed had new resonance, though of course Mr Biden is alive and it is still a matter of hope, not fact, that the US will see its first female president. Any Democratic nominee would face a difficult race. But even after Barack Obama became the first black president, and after female leaders such as Angela Merkel and Jacinda Ardern have commanded international respect and admiration, some fear that the racism and misogyny Ms Harris faces could prove insurmountable, though she inspires and energises other voters.
Four years ago, Donald Trump said the quiet part out loud, remarking of her that “we’re not going to have a socialist president. Especially any female.” JD Vance, his running mate, described Ms Harris and others as “childless cat ladies who are miserable at their own lives and the choices that they’ve made, and so they want to make the rest of the country miserable too”. Online attacks from their supporters have been even more vicious, bigoted and graphic – and may well alienate moderate voters. For many, however, the prejudice is unconscious. Research has repeatedly shown that in politics, as in other walks of life, “women leaders are perceived as competent or liked, but rarely both”.
Macho attitudes and patriarchal values have been fostered and legitimised by strongmen worldwide in recent years. Giorgia Meloni and Marine Le Pen are ample proof that women can also be prominent in far-right movements and do little for other women. But a marked political gender gap has emerged in many places in the last few years. In the US, polling suggests women aged 18 to 30 are now 30 percentage points more liberal than men of that age.
Similar gaps are evident in countries from the UK and Poland to Tunisia and South Korea – where a backlash against demands for women’s rights was central to the 2022 election. The country has the highest gender pay gap of any Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development nation, yet President Yoon Suk Yeol claims structural discrimination does not exist, and won over angry young men by vowing to abolish the ministry of gender equality. The contest was an alarming harbinger of how not just regressive but explicitly anti-feminist attitudes can be politically weaponised. In Argentina, Javier Milei followed suit and won the presidency.
Ford predicted that the 1990s would see a female president; the US had already seen a vice-presidential nominee (and in the UK, of course, Margaret Thatcher was then prime minister). But it took until 2008 before there was another, Sarah Palin, and 2016 before Hillary Clinton became the first female presidential nominee of a major party. Now Ms Harris has her shot. Like women around the world, she faces not only old stumbling blocks, but new strains of misogyny. The unfairness and extremity of attacks upon her, however, could yet help to fuel a groundswell of support.
