Gender: from Canada to Afghanistan, Proportional representation still a long way off

PATRICK ROSS THE GATEWAY (UNIVERSITY OF ALBERTA)

During a speech to Parliament on Sept. 22, Karzai noted that Afghanistan’s own parliament includes a healthy proportion of female representatives. Of a 351-seat Afghan parliament, 68 seats (about 19 per cent) are held by women — a representational proportion mandated in their constitution. Compare that to Canada, where, out of 308 Parliament seats, 64 are held by women (about 21 per cent).

This doesn’t seem like such a big difference until one considers that Afghan women haven’t had the freedom to run for office until recently. Under the previous Taliban regime, women weren’t even permitted to be educated, and were required by law to wear the infamous burkas considered by many to be symbolic of the status of women living in Islamic theocracies.

By comparison, Canadian women have had the vote since 1916, when the government of Manitoba passed legislation allowing women to vote in provincial elections. By 1940, all of Canada’s governments, including the federal government, had passed suffrage bills allowing women full participation in Canadian politics. In 1982, universal electoral rights were entrenched in the Canadian constitution.

Equality in law and equality in reality are two very different things, however. While considered equal under law, women clearly aren’t considered equal in politics. And despite legal enfranchisement, they remain a minority in Parliament.

When Sheila Copps — one of Canada’s most outspoken and accomplished female politicians — was elected to Parliament in 1984, she was one of only 27 women in Parliament (out of 282 seats at the time). Women held just short of 10 per cent of Parliamentary seats. Years later, the picture is very different. While still falling far short of the oftcited 52 per cent goal, 20 per cent per cent is still better than 10 per cent, and still much better than zero.

Canadian political parties have expended a tremendous amount of energy in getting women elected, but for many years this was not a fruitful endeavour. The 1970s and 1980s are illuminating examples. Prior to 1980, of the 6,845 people elected to Parliament, only 68 were women. This was reflective of the difficulty in finding women willing to seek office. In the 1974 election, for example, the Liberals and NDP combined to nominate 139 women — nine of whom won — while the Conservative party was able to nominate 11.

According to Copps, running for office is extremely treacherous for women. In her autobiography Nobody’s Baby, she writes, “If you are a woman, the road to the House is not an easy one. You will have to fight like a man — to be forceful, aggressive, and to the point. You can’t afford to pull your punches. You are breaking into a man’s game when many men are struggling to maintain their hold on the country’s power structures.”

Unfortunately, women are still faced with these stereotypes and expectations — the attention paid to Belinda Stronach’s love life being recent proof of this.

“Women bring a perspective to politics which allows them to break away from stereotypes,” Copps writes. One finds a similar sentiment among the Afghan people who have voted women into their parliament, the perception being that these female candidates are untainted by past political strife.