Women's Representation in New Senegalese Government

For women of my generation, born in the 1980s, seeing a woman in a leadership position was inspiring. On TV, I was in awe of Ndioro Ndiaye, the former Minister for Social Development and then the Minister of Women, Family and Child Protection from 1987 to 1995. I passionately watched the charismatic Adja Arame Diène, a member of the National Assembly from 1983 to 2001. This vision of women in “decision-making spheres” was rare, but it crystallised my ambitions for greatness. There weren't many women politicians at the time. From 1981 to 1998, the three successive governments under Habib Thiam included only 6 women, out of roughly 83 ministers.

These women, public figures at the time, were invisibilised. I “discovered” them over the years, reading through a newspaper article or less commonly through a documentary portrait on television. This realisation was later confirmed by the documentation work of director Diabou Bessane with her film Les Mamans de l'indépendance (2012 – English: The Mothers of Independence). The film highlights the prominent role played by 17 women in the fight for independence, who have been erased from collective memory. Also unknown is the role played by self-taught women like Adja Arame Diène and Thioumbé Samb, early activists in the PS (Socialist Party) and PAI (African Independence Party), which they joined in 1945 and 1946 respectively. Babacar Fall documented their decisive political commitment in African Gender Studies (2005).

The invisibilisation of women in the public sphere is a real concern today. This erasure and the resulting lack of representation contribute to denying the decisive, inescapable role played by women, political party activists, members of civil society, and civil servants in the development of our nation. It serves to confirm sexist and misogynist stereotypes that paint women as inferior beings, with underdeveloped cognitive capacities (xell mu sëgg, the saying that women's minds hang the same way their breasts hang), subject to their emotions (and by that I mean, incapable of being rational). Finally, the invisibilisation of women distorts the reality of Senegal's political history and present, leading to the assumption that a law on parity in a country in 2024 is irrelevant and that equitable representation of women in government is not a priority.

In the structure of Senegal's new government, appointed on April 5, 2024, there is no longer a Ministry for Women, Family and Child Protection, but a Ministry of Family and Children. Out of 30 members of this government, only 4 are women.

On social media and in the press, debates on this composition are well underway. The concern of many internet users, mainly main but also women, about the poor representation of women, has been countered by various reflections, the essence of which can be captured in the magnificent “there's no ministry for men, why would we need a ministry for women?” and the brilliant, “the government has other priorities than dealing with gender issues.”(I paraphrased). So, it's time to set priorities, and women's representation isn't one of them.

Of all these arguments, the one on “competence” is the most laughable. To be fair, internet users aren't saying that Senegalese women aren't competent. Rather, they are saying that the new government was chosen based on competence. This has led many women to wonder whether the country lacks skilled women.

Many painful comments were about “sending” women back to the kitchen, while others have asserted with conviction that women should stay at home anyway (and not get involved in politics). Many Senegalese people are blissfully ignorant of the place and role of women in the dynamics of social transformation. Above all, there's a lot of misogyny and sexism, that considers a woman's existence solely through the prism of marriage and the domestic economy.

It is this same sexism and misogyny that enable them to state bluntly that competence is prioritised in the selection of the new government in a country where the mediocrity and ineptitude of successive political regimes, made up mostly of men, have increased public debt, exacerbated inequality, and encouraged predation on communal resources. A country where, according to figures from the ANSD (Senegal’s National Agency for Statistics and Demography) in 2017, women contributed 1,000.5 billion F.CFA to income creation, or 24.5% to the value-added of the formal sector.

The justifications for the absence of a Ministry for Women and the creation of a Ministry of Family and Children, as seen on social media, are part of this same perspective; the blinders of sexism and misogyny that inhibit thinking skills and prevent many of our fellow citizens from thinking outside their privileges and prejudices. We read on X that “women are part of the family”. Ultimately, it is a sign of great intellectual laziness to caricature the Ministry for Women as an institution dedicated to folklore, where women distribute and waste money (the xawaaré).

It's also very laughable to read or hear that the concepts of gender, female leadership, parity, and equality are imported from the West and don't reflect our cultural values. This, in a country where, in the 17th century, 17-year-old Ngoone Laatir led her father's army and successfully repelled a Moorish invasion. Where the women of Nder fought bravely against invaders, again Moorish, before setting themselves on fire to escape slavery. And where numerous research studies point to the influence of colonial gender norms, notably the subordination of women, on gender relations in Africa.

Some might argue that these are opinions like any others. Some ask why this would be sexist and misogynistic, and why not celebrate the new beautiful democratic transition that is the election of President Bassirou Diomaye Diakhar Faye. It is because this transition is the result of a long process of struggles by both men and women. Throughout our political history, men and women have lost their lives, their freedom, or their social status standing up for what they believe.

Nevertheless, these debates are useful for gauging public opinion on women's issues. They provide an opportunity to reflect on the progress or regression of women’s rights, the fight against gender-based violence, and so on. Very few Senegalese are present on social networks, indeed. But the arguments and opinions on the issue, informed by sexism and misogyny, are audible and unabashed enough to gauge their pervasiveness in public debate and the minds of many.

The viciousness of the criticism that women (in general) and feminists (in particular) receive online is also symptomatic of the rise of masculinist ideology, characterised by antifeminism and an obsession with the submission and control of women. The direct consequence of these discourses is an upsurge in physical violence against women, femicide, and the progressive loss of gains in terms of protecting the rights of girls and women. A recent example is the campaign to repeal the law against female genital mutilation in The Gambia. Moreover, on national radio and television, religious organizations are taking to the airwaves to remind us of the role assigned to women, and denounce the influence of feminists and their agenda (we don't know what it is).

For decades, feminists in Senegal and around the world have been sounding the alarm and denouncing online violence. Their fears and concerns are downplayed, relegated to a secondary position behind the priorities of economic development and the preservation of national unity.

The use of social media to denounce injustice and promote free speech is a new development. But beyond the framework for expressing their needs and concerns, this online presence offers certain opportunities for feminists.

These include highlighting the social campaigns led by “uneducated” women, far removed from “feminist” and “Westernized” circles. For instance, the Groups for the Advancement of Women (GPF), grassroots community organizations that started in the neighbourhoods and gave rise to the Fédération Nationale des Groupements de Promotion Féminine (FNGPF - National Federation of Women's Promotion Groups), formalised as an NGO in 1984. The federation, a true forum for women's consultation, was instrumental in the creation of women's homes and centres, where they received a wide range of training courses. Many of these structures were built by the women themselves.

Another opportunity is the inclusion of all segments of society and the consideration of every category of women in the collective demands. For instance, feminists discussed the remuneration system for bajenu gox (elderly women in neighbourhoods who pass on their knowledge to younger women). For years now, they have been relaying public health policies in the communities, and have had a notable impact in terms of access to reproductive health, improved mother-child health and the fight against gender-based violence.

In terms of inclusion, nearly 250 personalities and 25 organizations of all kinds, both men and women, signed a declaration calling on President Bassirou Diomaye Diakhar Faye to preserve the gains made in terms of women's rights and to include women in decision-making bodies.

Dealing with these issues online enables women of all ages, whether feminist or not, to share in the legacy of a long tradition of Senegalese and African women’s movements who fought for their rights and their presence in public spaces and debates. This helps to demonstrate to these young girls and women that they can want more and aspire to be better than the assigned roles of housewife, inferior and voiceless beings.

Finally, this feminist presence online, and the discussions it sparks, highlight the cognitive dissonance of endorsing a “revolutionary” government, while at the same time taking offense at women and men questioning the poor representation of women in that same government.

Musings

“It’s time to set priorities, and women’s representation doesn't seem to be one.” – Ndèye Débo Seck

Eyala