Diana Wichtel: The sexism Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern endured

An emotional Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern and incoming Prime Minister Chris Hipkins at Rātana Pa Marae. Photo / Mark Mitchell

OPINION:

“Ridiculous!” cried the host of Three’s AM breakfast show, Ryan Bridge. Jacinda Ardern had resigned. Bridge read out a headline saying Ardern was driven from office by online trolls. “Melodramatic!”

Ardern has said she didn’t resign because of the abuse. Many commentators have seized on this with almost comical relief as the last word on the matter. Nothing to see here. Political commentator Liam Hehir declared in an online piece that, “The libs in the media lay Labour’s decline [sic] fortunes at the feet of misogynists on Reddit.” At time of writing, Chris Hipkins has yet to be asked in the mainstream media about his reproductive plans. He hasn’t been called the equivalent of “Queen Cindy”. He hasn’t been asked what he will be wearing for leader’s debates later this year. It hasn’t been implied that, as a single father, he will be a part-time PM. If only the sexism was just online.

Ardern says abuse wasn’t the cause of her resignation. Most of the reasons she might not want to dwell on it can be summed up by the cod Latin rallying cry from The Handmaid’s Tale: Nolite tes bastardes carborundorum. Don’t let the bastards grind you down. Don’t let them make young women inspired by Ardern’s career path feel afraid to follow it. Don’t give the sort of people who have used threats and words for which there is no real equivalent for men – the “c” word, “witch” - more ammunition.

Defence policy analyst Paul Buchanan told RNZ that Ardern will need more ongoing security and protection than any former New Zealand Prime Minister. That prediction makes me feel ashamed of us. The ugly side of our national nature doesn’t just affect victims. The experience of being bullied in, say, the workplace is horrific. Seeing someone else being battered on a regular basis and feeling powerless is another kind of hell. The eagerness to discount the impact is a sort of denial.

Christopher Luxon, asked whether women in politics face more abuse, said, uncertainly, “Look, I’m not sure about that.” Shortly later, flanked by Nicola Willis, he changed his mind or something. “I think there is an element of gendered abuse that happens with female politicians that’s different from what we experience as men, I think,” he said uncertainly. Willis was considerably less … uncertain. “It’s worst for me when people call into question my ability to be a good mother,” she said, her composure crumpling. “That hurts.”

Vile abuse from the madder fringes, tired sexism from all over the show: it’s a testament to the fact that Ardern did make change, including the sort that triggers those used to a playing field that tilts towards them. We’re a different culture post her government in terms of diversity, the faces we see on our screens and around the table in politics. We’re increasingly bilingual, valuing what makes us unique in the world. New Zealand’s international profile is higher. There’s no turning back the clock on all of that.

Ardern, apparently so “divisive”, left the job still-preferred Prime Minister in the polls. On the culture of politics for women, she said, “This is a place where a foundation is being made long before me to make it possible for us to be in these roles.”

It’s possible. Surely it should be less exhausting, less brutal. Asked the same sort of question about gendered abuse that caused Luxon such bewilderment, Hipkins said: “I think we often leave it to women to say, ‘This isn’t okay’… We as men have a responsibility to call it out when we see it and to say that it’s not okay.” That would help. Because a new generation of young women, and some not-so-young women, are looking at what Ardern endured, and the grace with which she handled it, and deciding to take considerably less s***. To tolerate less disrespect. That’s a strong part of her legacy. Nolite tes bastardes carborundorum.