stress. Homosexuality is rarely a topic, though
The Thin Red Line
is a notable excep-
tion in its casual recognition that men found comfort with men during warfare.
The masculine nature of geopolitical codes is the goal of our discussion. To get there
it is necessary to explore the gendered nature of nationalism,
with special reference to
the use of nationalism at time of conflict. We began this chapter with an emphasis on
“naming” so that we can begin to understand nationalism as a political process of joining
a nation and a state. Naming is not just a matter of academic classification; it also
refers to the particular label given to an abstract concept, such as “the state,” in order
to give it popular meaning and salience. Think of other, more colloquial names for the
nation. Some that come to mind are homeland,
motherland, and even fatherland.
Fatherland is noteworthy because this particular gender reference to the nation has a
very negative historical connotation: Nazi Germany, or nationalism gone “too far.”
Instead, we are more comfortable with thinking of the nation as the “motherland,” with
its references to nurturing, comfort, and sense of belonging. The nation is, as Anderson
(1991) noted, an imagined community: meaning that we think of ourselves as part of a
national community, but we will never interact with the vast majority of its members
in any meaningful way. Instead, the sense of community is “imagined”
through national
events such as sporting events, elections, the funerals of statesmen and women, natural
disasters, etc.
Perhaps a more accurate description of the nation is an “imagined family,” and a
patriarchal one at that. For notions of the “motherland” imply a particular role for
women; they should be active in the procreation and socialization of the nation’s future
generations, and their domain is the home. The flip side to this gendered role is that
men are the seen as the defenders and rulers of the nation—they inhabit the “public
spaces” of government,
business, and the military. Hence, the dominant narratives of
The Naked and the Dead
and other war novels, the men must fight for and defend their
women “back home,” but the individual is only complete (and by extension so is the
nation) when functioning as a household of a man and a woman: this, the narrative says,
is what is to be fought for.
Feminist scholars have shown the gendered division of labor within politics, and
foreign policy in particular (see the essays in Staeheli
et al
., 2004).
Despite some posi-
tive changes in attitudes toward women, and legal recourse to equality, ideology is harder
to change. By ideology I do not just mean the overt sexism of some individuals and
political agendas that promote the role of the woman as “homemaker” and or sexual
object. Such agendas are by their very brazenness perhaps relatively easy to challenge.
More threatening is the insidious or banal practices that promote gender roles that limit
women’s participation in public space. Nationalism remains an exceptional tool for
defining gender roles, and perhaps especially at a time of conflict.
Women
and the War on Terrorism
In the United States after the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001 the words “hero”
and “nation” were pervasive and intertwined. Without dismissing the bravery of fire-
fighters, police officers, and others who lost and risked their lives in the wreckage left
by the terrorist attacks, it is also striking how gendered this narrative became. Men were
I N T R O D U C T I O N T O G E O P O L I T I C S
120
the heroes, women the homebound helpless victims. The term “brotherhood” was used
repeatedly in references to the New York Fire Department. The bravery of the “broth-
erhood” of rescue workers on that day was portrayed as a purely masculine pursuit:
barely mentioned were the women rescue workers who also served (Dowler, 2005).
Of course, women did play an important role in the nationalist story that was told in
the wake of these terrorist attacks; the tragedy of widowhood was exposed to a nation-
alist light. Again, one must emphasize that an academic analysis of the victims of 9/11
is not intended to diminish or demean individual loss and suffering. However, it is
important to see how an individual’s loss becomes part of a national tragedy or episode
that, in turn, feeds into the redefinition
of a geopolitical code, especially its military role.
The following excerpt from President Bush’s State of the Union Speech of January 29,
2002 is particularly illustrative:
For many Americans, these four months have brought sorrow, and pain that
will never completely go away. Every day a retired firefighter returns to Ground
Zero, to feel closer to his two sons who died there. At a memorial in New
York, a little boy left his football with a note for his lost father: Dear Daddy,
please take this to heaven. I don’t want to play football until I can play with
you again some day.
Last month, at the grave of her husband, Michael, a CIA officer
and Marine
who died in Mazur-e-Sharif, Shannon Spann said these words of farewell:
“Semper Fi, my love.” Shannon is with us tonight. (Applause.)
Shannon, I assure you and all who have lost a loved one that our cause is
just, and our country will never forget the debt we owe Michael and all who
gave their lives for freedom.
(“President Delivers State of the Union Address”
(title of webpage www.whitehouse.gov/news/releases/
2002/01/20020129–11.html—accessed December 22, 2004)
In this segment of the speech the tragedy suffered by men in the defense of the nation
is clearly flagged, in terms of losses suffered “at home” and also “abroad.” Shannon
Spann’s loss was made a public event as television cameras broadcasted her acknow-
ledgment of the applause from the country’s elected officials.
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