The word ‘feminism’ itself originated from the French word féminisme in

the nineteenth century, either as a medical term to describe the

feminisation of a male body, or to describe women with masculine traits.
When it was used in the United States in the early part of the twentieth
century it was only used to refer to one group of women: ‘namely that
group which asserted the uniqueness of women, the mystical experience
of motherhood and women’s special purity’ (Jaggar 1983: 5). It soon
became understood to denote a political stance of someone committed to
changing the social position of women. Since then the term has taken on
the sense of one who believes that women are subjugated because of their
sex and that women deserve at least formal equality in the eyes of the law.
Despite the fact that the usage of the term is relatively recent, it has
become common practice to refer to early writers and thinkers – for
example the eighteenth-century writer Mary Wollstonecraft – as ‘feminist’
in acknowledgement of the connections between their arguments and
those of modern feminism
Feminist writers and activists, even those who were in existence long
before the term feminism came into popular usage, shared the will to
imagine a world where women were able to realise their potential as
individuals. In doing this, they had to conceptualise ideas that were, when
women had no legal identity as individuals, literally unknowable. Feminist
knowledge, then, has long been regarded as informal or illegitimate in
some way and for modern feminists it became important to make
feminist ideas legitimate by circulating their ideas as widely as possible
and inviting the contributions and responses of other women. It was also
important that other women would not encounter boundaries in terms of
gaining access to feminist ideas, especially by feeling they lack the
entitlement to call themselves ‘feminist’ for any reason. This assumption
that, effectively, any woman who chooses to call herself feminist is one,
disallows the production of a feminist dogma or unitary position and it also accounts for the multiplicity of positions that can be
held under the
umbrella of this title. For good and bad reasons it becomes ultimately
impossible to talk about feminism in terms other than the plural.
Since the 1980s it has become common to use the plural form when
talking about feminism in order to signify that although all feminists may
share a basic commitment to ending female oppression, they do not always
approach this problem from the same philosophical or political base. It is
also an acceptance that part of the richness of feminism’s legacy is this
diversity and heterogeneity of positions.We can say that all feminists agree
that women suffer social and/or material inequities simply because of their
biological identity and are committed to challenging this, but the means by
which such challenges might be made are many and various.This inevitably
means that feminism as a term becomes rather unwieldy and overburdened
with meaning. Given that all feminists agree on the central fact of women’s
subordination, most feminists regard feminism’s heterogeneity as a sign of
healthy debate – although feminism’s detractors tend to see it as a sign of
feminism’s inbuilt weakness. It is clear, too, that although some critics
associate this fragmentation with modern feminism, feminists have always
emerged from diverse cultural and political perspectives and focused on
issues germane to the time and location they inhabit.
Despite the fact that feminism can be used to reflect a personal
political position (and perhaps this tendency is becoming more apparent
in the twenty-first century), there are dominant strands that make up
modern feminist thought as we encounter it today. Liberal feminism
draws on the diversity of liberal thought dominant in Western society
since the Enlightenment, and affirms that women’s subordinate social
position can be addressed by existing political processes under democracy.
For liberals the key battle is access to education; following Mary
Wollstonecraft, it is argued that if men and women are educated equally,
then it follows that they will get equal access to society. Liberal feminists
would be loath to use the language of ‘revolution’ or ‘liberation’ favoured
by radicals and socialists, in their belief that democracy itself is naturally
adaptable to equality for both sexes. This liberal position is broadly held
to be the dominant, ‘common-sense’ stance on feminism, applicable to
the majority of women who identify as ‘feminist’ in some way, but don’t
want to overturn the social status quo in order to achieve better social
conditions for women. In addition, liberal feminists would be more likely
to accept in limited terms that women and men might well be suited to
the separate spheres of home and the workplace and simply lobby for
greater recognition of housework and caring (the wages for housework
debate in the 1970s emerged largely from this position). Socialist or Marxist feminism (for further discussion of the differences
and similarities, see Whelehan 1995) links changes in women’s social
conditions with the overthrow of industrial capitalism and changing
relations of the worker to the means of production. For them, revolution
is the only answer, although as time has gone on socialist feminists have
become more cynical about the prospect of a socialist revolution effecting
a change in the lives of women, given the tenacious ideological grip of the
current meanings of gender differences. Nonetheless socialist/Marxist
feminists are always mindful of the ways society is riven by class and race
distinctions as well as those of gender and that it is more useful to
consider oppression as multi-pronged and inter-related rather than
arguing that one form is more destructive than others. In common with
liberal feminism, socialist feminism, because of its links to Marxist
thought, suggests a necessary link with men and an acceptance perhaps
that men are part of any movement for change.
This assumption that men as part of the problem should be part of the
solution was a theme in early radical feminism, even though radical
feminism is usually associated in the popular consciousness with
separatism and man-hating. Radical feminists, particularly in the USA,
emerged largely from new left and civil rights political groupings. Their
politics was broadly radical left, but they became hugely disenchanted
with the male-dominated power play witnessed in left-wing radical
groupings and formed the Women’s Liberation Movement in order to
allow a space for the consideration of women’s oppression outside of the
confines of male-oriented knowledge and politics. Their conviction that
a woman-centred politics could only be devised in a woman-only space
led to a policy of separatism, at least at the level of policy-making and
meetings. This politics of radicalism, while drawing political lessons from
the new left and civil rights movements, wanted a political formation
freed from the taint of maleness and therefore espoused leaderless
groupings, job-sharing and structurelessness – well beyond the
parameters of contemporary democracy. Many of their aspirations have
been ridiculed or misunderstood by others and radical feminists are all too
often sent up as dungareed, man-hating lesbians, totally obsessed with the
politically correct, partly because the way in which they wanted to shape
their own movement was intended to reflect their rejection of anything
that smacked of the male political imperative.
Feminist groupings have always contained representations from
women of colour, working-class women and lesbian/bisexual women;
yet many became increasingly disenchanted by the ways in which their
involvement in the movement rendered their own identities and concerns invisible, despite the rhetoric of reflecting the needs
of all women. For
example the Combahee River Collective’s ‘A Black Feminist Statement’,
first published in 1979 (see Hull et al. 1982) demonstrates a sense of
belonging to feminism and yet being alienated from some of the
principles embraced – such as separatism, but also the sense that gender
determines oppression more than race, class or sexual orientation. This
sense of inclusion and marginalisation simultaneously, the need to make
one’s own feminism to counteract the blindness of the mainstream
became a commonplace in 1970s’ and 1980s’ feminisms – testimony to
their own epistemological richness as well as less positively to the ways
in which identity politics prevented feminist groups from speaking to
each other and moving on.
Postmodern and post-structuralist interventions in the field bring to
bear even greater diversity to what can be understood as ‘feminist’. Core
ideas about being a ‘woman’ and ‘inequality’ are held up for scrutiny as
the idea of an essential female political identity or a transparent
oppressor/oppressed relationship of power are problematised by broader
questions about how meanings and truths are generated in social
discourse. Throughout all these discussions feminism as a term has
endured and been found useful and the fruits of feminist challenges to the
social order are evident in social policy-making today. For these reasons
the plurality of discourses which can be held to be ‘feminist’ today may
be the key to its strength – its refusal to be pinned down, condensed to
a single set of ideas or dogma, is what make feminist knowledge abiding
in its appeal to women as well as a source of support in their daily
material existence.