A Dangerous Intersection: Victoria C. Woodhull’s problematic denouncement of slavery
By the late nineteenth century profound connections were being made between matters of political importance and discourses on sexuality. “The Scare-Crows of Sexual Slavery” by Victoria C. Woodhull presents a fascinating example of how the Women’s Liberation and Black Liberation movements were intrinsically and actively linked together. While she draws an important parallel between the enslavement of African Americans and the second class status of women, and although her explicitness comes as somewhat of a breath of fresh air during an era of generally restricted language and communication, Woodhull fails this correlation critically in a few regards. Not only does her speech contain underlying racism, but she also endeavors to quantify the sufferings of each group in order that she might pronounce which indeed has (had) it worse. I question her capacity, as a white woman, to make such bold judgments and proclamations. On a similar note, I will explore how she fails to acknowledge the position of Black women as the intersection of the two oppressed groups.
At the outset of her oration Woodhull’s refusal to be apologetic for her beliefs is admirable, her self-empowerment as a woman inspiring. And as a speaker she is moving, relying both on elaborate metaphor and simple explicitness, the latter something not to be taken for granted at the time. In defining freedom she claims that any infringement on the individual’s right “to make such use of any or all his powers and capacities as he or she may elect to do…is restriction, and restriction exercised by any person or aggregate of persons over another…is despotism” (245). She uses powerful reasoning to condemn oppression of all kinds, and then proceeds in her argument by anticipating and answering to those in opposition. One pertinent example is her attack on the family unit, considering what Foucault says about the “deployment of alliance.” Indeed, Woodhull finds much fault within the family structure, namely that it feigns to ensure purity and holiness while actually breeding and therefore perpetuating gender inequality and oppression.
Woodhull’s argument eventually takes a fall, however, it would seem as a result of her fervor on the subject (surely she provides at least one more example of a nineteenth century woman who defies the “passionless” stereotype). Halfway through, her speech approaches a very important but quite sensitive topic of the intersectionality between abolition and women’s rights. While she succeeds for a time in her immovable demand for freedom, she eventually falters under the weight of some audacious claims. Immediately following a graphic depiction of the “horror and brutal violence” of slavery, carefully eliciting the compassion of her audience, she nearly foils her entire argument by claiming “that all the suffering of all the negro slaves combined, is as nothing in comparison to that which women, as a whole suffer” (247-248). This quantification of anguish and hardship is not reasonable nor is it an appropriate way to approach an intersection of two intensely oppressed groups. Speaking of intersectionality, Woodhull also fails to recognize the place of Black women in her agenda. Like many abolitionists and Women’s rights activists to precede and follow her, Woodhull completely disregards the role of Black women in slavery. Where has her explicitness gone in defending one the most intricately enslaved, and often most neglected, group of all? She rages at the notion of married women who are sexually enslaved by their husbands, but pays no notice to Black women who are simultaneously exploited both for labor and sex by their masters. In a Venn diagram of these two groups Black women would obviously occupy the central, overlapping sphere. And yet, they seem often to be farthest from the focus of attention when it comes to liberation. They are in the unfortunate position of being doubly oppressed, and yet least in priority for concern or elevation.
Tags: Black Liberation, intersectionality, sexual slavery, slavery, Victoria C. Woodhull, Women's Rights
March 5th, 2013 at 12:50 pm
Sophia, thank you for this clear and cogent critique of Woodhull’s shortcomings. I found myself wondering at the same absence as I explored the piece– if slavery is abominable, and degradation of women even worse, the plight of the enslaved woman is sorriest of all. This reality is glaring in its absence, and opens a vista onto another aspect in the emerging deployment of sexuality: the parameters of discourse.
Just as it would be decades (and generations) until the women’s movement achieved substantive changes in the status of women in American society, it would be decades more until African-American women even emerged into the cultural conversation. For all the courage that it takes to stand up to repressive authority, one doing so inevitably engages it on its own terms, constructing a dialectic of repression and liberation. In order to be included in this essential discourse, the former must be acknowledged and the latter envisioned as possible. For African-American women, mere inclusion in this conversation would require another century; and even today the residue of being the forgotten member of American society still remains.
March 6th, 2013 at 10:31 am
I noticed this as well. It didn’t shock me in the context of the essay, though – Woodhull seems to have been purposefully taking an extremist stance on everything. She doesn’t allow for compromise or moderation in any aspect of her argument. While I don’t think this is necessarily a very effective tactic for changing people’s minds, it certainly draws attention to her and her cause – spreading awareness of women’s rights issues and bringing them to the attention of future leaders.