The gendered dimensions of male leaders waging war on COVID-19

The language of conflict and bellicosity was employed by male leaders across the world to frame the response to COVID-19. Trump (former President of the United States of America) described himself as a “wartime president,” Macron (President of France) announced “we are at war,” Johnson (Prime Minister of the United Kingdom) declared his government will “beat the enemy” while Bolsonaro (President of Brazil) warned “Brazil is at war and must combat an invisible enemy” (Bell, 2020; Pfrimer and Barbosa Jr, 2020). These warfare metaphors extended from political discourse, pervading into the media and subsequently public dialogue. Notably, this militarism and anthropomorphising of intractable challenges as a foreign enemy has consistently become a default position of male leaders. We have previously had wars on ‘crime,’ ‘drugs,’ and ‘terror.’ These ‘wars’ have seldom produced victories but have frequently caused disastrous side-effects (Hartmann-Mahmud, 2002). It is therefore important to develop understanding of why, and with what consequence, these militarised narratives manifest in political and public discourse. This blog will employ a ‘gender lens’ to analyse the war rhetoric engaged by male leaders during the response to COVID-19.

Political rhetoric is not an arbitrary process, instead it shapes perception and understanding of social phenomena and realities (Hartmann-Mahmud, 2002). Hence, framing COVID-19 as the ‘enemy’ was not coincidence, rather it permitted the response of male leaders’ to be guided by military rationality. A ‘crisis’ requires urgency and priority without limiting participation; it fosters holistic engagement, diversified expertise, and transparency. In contrast to this, rendering COVID-19 as a ‘conflict’ implies an enemy threat which necessitates the empowered few to control in secret (Hutchings, 2008). This legitimised the transformation of COVID-19 into a matter of defence, which therefore cannot be subjected to public debate and only those with military authority (male leaders) can make such comments and decisions. Consequently, ‘we are all in this together,’ we must assemble behind our ‘courageous’ leaders (male) who hold the power and will not answer questions until the ‘enemy’ is beaten.

Militarism is rendered both intelligible and acceptable through the elevated construction of hegemonic masculinity. This construction necessitates a binary notion of gender, whereby the idealised qualities of masculinity are dichotomised by emphasised femininities or alternative masculinities – both of which are subordinated and marginalised (Connell and Messerschmidt, 2005). In Western culture, hegemonic masculinity is equated through the performance of a man being independent, risk-taking, aggressive and superiorly rational (Hutchings, 2008). These qualities are correspondingly identified as essential in warfare by reflecting the ideals of a ‘respectable’ solider (Goldstein, 2001). Here, the gendered socialisation, whereby men are understood as the ‘protectors’ for women as ‘passive victims’, is reinforced (Goldstein, 2001). Thus, by proclaiming war, male leaders could utilise these socially-constructed idealistic narratives of hegemonic masculinity and militarism to license their approach and reinforce the status quo.

The militarisation of hegemonic masculinity further legitimises the construct in which men are ‘natural’ ‘better’ leaders. Expressed differently, one who conforms to the swaggering ideals of masculinity is often regarded as a ‘strong’ leader (Appelbaum et al., 2003). During COVID-19 we witnessed hyper-masculine displays from our male leaders; for example, inter alia, Trump’s repeated failure to wear (or ‘hide behind’) a mask, was a display of power against the ‘invisible enemy.’ This is consistent with traditional notions of a strong American leader - protecting power, acting aggressively and being fearless (ibid). The propensity to associate charismatic leadership with militarised masculine heroism is ancient, those perceived as the greatest leaders – Alexander the Great to Churchill – protected their citizens from defeat and made conquests themselves (Bell, 2020). This history, while repeatedly romanticised, becomes compelling as hegemonic masculinity seemingly reaffirms its association with sovereignty and simultaneously continues to bestow social importance upon men and serve as a justification for manhood and militarism (Mann, 2012).

Those on the ‘frontline’ of COVID-19 were health and social care workers (Bell, 2020). Historically, care(ing) work has been rendered ‘women’s work.’ While, care(ing) work is a female-dominated profession (for example, approximately 88% of care workers in the United Kingdom are women), this notion of ‘women’s work’ is compounded by the patriarchal discourse which presumes such work to be suited to women’s supposed innate caring ability and compassionate nature (Bell, 2020). Interestingly, throughout COVID-19 ‘women’s work’ was transformed into ‘essential work.’ While this transformation places more value on care(ing) work by emphasising it criticality, it simultaneously removes women from the ‘battlefield’ and it is no longer ‘their’ work commended for its ‘effort and sacrifice.’ This aligns to the hyper-masculinised narrative of war, whereby women are not acknowledged as ‘proper soldiers’ (Goldstein, 2001).

The utilisation of war rhetoric and further removal of femininity from the ‘battlefield’ reinforced the notion that women cannot be experts in war (even when fighting on the frontline); for it is men who know about war, they have done it before, they are the courageous soldiers - whereas women should follow (and work) silently. As such, this gendered discourse became gendered practice; for example, despite many women being experts in politics, epidemiology and even war, no women were present in Johnson’s COVID-19 daily meetings (McVeigh, 2020). I suggest, this exclusion of women is somewhat a consequence of militarised hegemonic masculinity perpetuating from the dominant patriarchal hierarchy. Here, the marginalisation of women throughout the decision-making process is normalised (Appelbaum et al., 2003). Moreover, during COVID-19 the media’s gendered practice reinforced the gendered discourse. For example, women were only quoted 16–25% in relation to their male counterparts in news about the pandemic (McVeigh, 2020). Women, when given a voice, were seldom portrayed as authoritative experts or empowered individuals, but instead as helpless victims to, inter alia, domestic violence and childcare responsibilities (ibid). Whilst these are important subject matters, utilising tropes of passive victimhood somewhat maintained the construction of hegemonic masculinities and re-licenses militarised intervention to ‘protect’ women.

While analysing the use of war rhetoric by male leaders, it is important to recognise differing leadership approaches regarding COVID-19. Other responses to COVID-19 – led by women, for example, Ardern (Prime Minister of New Zealand) Merkel (former Chancellor of Germany) or Frederiksen (Prime Minister of Denmark) – dealt practically, decisively and empathetically with the crisis (Bell, 2020). These responses have been frequently attributed to gendered stereotypes and assumptions of women being innately more considerate and collaborative (Connell and Messerschmidt, 2005). However, it is imperative to recognise the social and cultural context in which leadership is exerted (Bell, 2020). As such, for male leaders is it perhaps the deeply rooted institutionalised militaristic thinking and expectations of masculinity which seemingly evoke this style of leadership and rhetoric during crises? (Hutchings, 2008). Alternatively, is it a result of the socio-cultural processes which idealises these forms and displays of hyper-masculine leadership?

Evidently, declaring war was deceptively alluring for male leaders, as it necessitated the crisis being managed through military rationality, it did not prevent COVID-19 or even enhance political support(Bell, 2020). The militarism engaged by male leaders required an elevated construction and subsequent performance of hegemonic masculinities. This meant women were disproportionately excluded from political and public discourse and frequently rendered as ‘helpless victims’. As analysed, this was permitted because the patriarchal structure of political and public discourse naturalised such constructions, somewhat accentuated by female-led countries. Going forward, questions arise surrounding whether the recovery from COVID-19 will also be guided by military-thought or will a more compassionate, inclusive, gender-sensitive style of leadership be employed by ALL leaders?

Reference

Appelbaum, S.H., Audet, L. and Miller, J.C., 2003. Gender and leadership? Leadership and gender? A journey through the landscape of theories. Leadership & Organization Development Journal.

Bell, D.A., 2020. Why female leaders are faring better than ‘wartime presidents’ against COVID-19. In Fortune. https://fortune.com/2020/08/20/women-female-leaders-vs-wartime-president-trump-jacinda-ardern-angela-merkel-covid-19-coronavirus/

Connell, R.W. and Messerschmidt, J.W., 2005. Hegemonic masculinity: Rethinking the concept. Gender & society, 19(6), pp.829-859.

Goldstein, J.S., 2001. War and gender: How gender shapes the war system and vice versa. Cambridge University Press.

Hartmann-Mahmud, L., 2002. War as metaphor. Peace Review, 14(4), pp.427-432.

Hutchings, K., 2008. Making sense of masculinity and war. Men and Masculinities, 10(4), pp.389-404.

Mann, B., 2012. Gender as Justification in Simone de Beauvoir’s Le Deuxième Sexe. Sapere Aude, 3(6), pp.200-213.

McVeigh, K., 2020. Female voices 'drowned out' in reporting on Covid-19, report finds. In The Guardian. https://www.theguardian.com/global-development/2020/sep/24/female-voices-drowned-out-in-reporting-on-covid-19-report-finds

Pfrimer, M.H. and Barbosa Jr, R., 2020. Brazil’s war on COVID-19: Crisis, not conflict—Doctors, not generals. Dialogues in Human Geography, 10(2), pp.137-140.