Benedict's Fear of Feminism

The virtue of hope has been a leitmotif of Benedict XVI’s papacy. He dedicated his second encyclical to the topic (Spe Salvi) and is making “Christ Our Hope” the theme of this his first visit to the United States. But fear, not hope, has been a predominant note in his major writings on feminism and the changing role of women in the Church and in the world. Unfortunately, fear begets fear. For their part, many women, both Catholics and non Catholics, express wariness about the Church’s positions on women. The are afraid, I think, that the Church will use its influence to reduce the opportunities for women to flourish, rather than to expand them.

So what does the Pope fear? In his “Letter to the Bishops of the Catholic Church on the Collaboration of Men and Women in the Church and in the World” (2004), written while he was still known as Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, Prefect of the Sacred Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith., he express concern about two aspects of contemporary feminism. The first is a tendency for women to seek power in order to overcome unjust subjugation. This can lead to “opposition between men and women, in which the identity and role of one are emphasized to the disadvantage of the other.” The second is a tendency to deny the fundamental nature of the differences between men and women, viewing those differences not as built into their very natures, but instead as “mere effects of historical and cultural conditioning.” Benedict worries that these tendencies have baleful effects on both the society and the church, particularly on the increasingly fragile traditional two parent family. He fears for a community that does not sufficiently appreciate the gift of children, and he fears for children who do not have both a mother and a father to raise them.

In response, the Letter advocates anthropology of collaboration between the sexes - not competition. Equally made in the image and likeness of God, men and women designed for partnership on every level, including the level of sexual relationship. They have different but complementary gifts. Women, in particular, have a “feminine genius” that amounts to an expertise in “human relationships and caring for others.” Respect for “feminine genius” first of all means protecting and promoting the role of women in family life, because that is where human beings “learn to love in as much as they are unconditionally loved.” At the same time, Benedict does not want to restrict women to Kinder, Küche, Kirche (children, kitchen, church) – he affirms that women “should have access to positions of responsibility which allow them to inspire the policies of nations and to promote innovative solutions to economic and social problems.”


So what do women fear when they hear this vision of their nature and their lives? Well, one might say, so to speak, that the devil is in the details. It is one thing to advocate complementary between men and women as a general matter. It’s an entirely different thing to start parceling out complementary character traits, which seems to be the very next step. Many attempts to do just this have been formulated in the past, by both Catholics and Protestants – now, they seem both simplistic and sexist. Contemporary efforts have not been more successful. In her recent book New Woman (Circle Press), which boasts an introduction by current U.S. Ambassador to the Vatican Mary Ann Glendon, papal feminist Gloria Conde sets forth this account, from Judith Bartwick:

“The “masculine” is equivalent to the objective, analytical, active, inclined to thought, rational, indomitable, interfering, one who obstructs, independent, self sufficient, emotionally controlled, and self assured. With his mind, the man distinguishes, analyzes, separates, and perfects. The “feminine” corresponds to the subjective, intuitive, passive, tender, sensitive, easily influenced, docile, receptive, empathetic, dependent, emotional, and conservative. Her mind picks up relations, she possesses intuitive perception of sentiments, and she tends to unite rather than divide.”

This is exactly the sort of list that was once used by many people, not merely Catholics, to deny that women were fit to exercise the right to vote – let alone to run for President of the United States (Hilary Clinton), or to serve as Chancellor of Germany (Angela Merkel). Focusing on the differences between men and women, it obscures the substantial abilities and concerns that they have in common–including rationality and self assurance, if my own female law students are any indication. Benedict’s understanding of “feminine genius,” first coined by Pope John Paul II, easily embraces the tender qualities necessary to be a mother to small children. But it does not so clearly stretch to include even the firmness necessary to be a mother to adolescents in today’s world, or the resilience necessary to many women who must struggle to raise children alone, or in politically uncertain or impoverished situations.

Is there a way beyond the fear to find a common hope? It seems to me that a good first step would be to move beyond abstractions to address concrete challenges together. It is harder, after all, to fear those with whom one works together for the common good. Pope Benedict has extolled the role of Mary as the perfect woman–both virgin and mother. As every Catholic who ever prayed the Salve Regina knows, Mary points beyond her own perfection to the sufferings of the whole world, to the tears and sighs of the "poor banished children of Eve."

Who, concretely, are the poor banished children of Eve in our world? Who might be helped by coordinated action on the part of relatively privileged American feminists and the relatively privileged Catholic magisterium? Here’s my suggestion: the women ravaged by the ten year old civil war in the Congo. The week before the Pope’s visit, Lisa F. Jackson’s documentary, The Greatest Silence: Rape in the Congo, premiered on HBO. The story is horrifying. Gang rape is ruthlessly employed as a tool of political violence. Over thirty percent of those raped contract HIV/AIDS. Unimaginably violated, sometimes with sticks and guns, these women are no longer virgins; their wounds are so grave they may never be mothers. But they, like Mary, are also made in the image and likeness of God.

This year marks the 20th anniversary of Mulieris Dignitatem, Pope John Paul II’s Apostolic Letter on the Dignity and Vocation of Women. Catholic relief workers and women religious already have a presence in the Congo. A concerted effort to stop the rape, and to bind up the wounds of the victims, would be a fitting commemoration of the document. It would also be a project on which everyone concerned about the well being of women could work together.

M. Cathleen Kaveny is the John P. Murphy Foundation Professor of Law and Professor of Theology at the University of Notre Dame. She focuses her scholarly work on the relationship between morality and law. She graduated from Princeton University, and completed four graduate degrees, including her M.A., M.Phil., J.D. and Ph.D, at Yale University.

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