When good women protect bad men
I've seen women throw other women under the bus in order to protect their men. But even I was a bit shocked at how fast this came hurling at me yesterday after I told some truths about my life.
A few years ago, I was chairing a panel at a big conference on women in Judaism on the topic of the agunah problem, chained women. The panel was composed of one rabbi/NGO director – a minor Jewish celebrity we’ll call Rabbi Armani – and three women whose names I did not recognize. The rabbi got up to speak, and the first thing he said was (slightly paraphrased), “The agunah issue is not a real issue. It hardly affects anyone. If you want to do REAL work, pay attention to what MY organization does, which is real and counts.” He really did that. At a Jewish women’s conference. At a panel on agunot. Turns out, the other three speakers were people he brought to provide testimony about the work that he does. The entire panel was about him, aiming to raise money for his organization by telling a room full of Jewish feminists that they didn’t know what they were talking about. And that we should all abandon Jewish feminism because he was the only one whose work mattered. It was positively charming.
As he sat down, I slipped a note to him, past his Rolex watch and over his Armani jacket sleeve, which read as follows: “Had I known you were coming here to put down women and piggyback on women’s lives for your own benefit, I would have never agreed to chair this panel. Next time I will know better.” He glanced at it, crumbled it up and threw it away — and then continued to smile and applaud at his puppet speakers, the women he brought to make it look like he belonged at a feminist conference. When the panel was over, women crowded to him to swoon and get his autograph. (Just kidding, most just wanted to talk to him.)
The story does not end there. He continued to build his brand and his organizational budget and often placed himself in discussions by women and about women on women’s topics, as an expert on women. It was smart business. It was low effort and high return. He got media interviews on topics that other women knew more about, and gave a glossy and glitzy cover image to important issues. Some activists were grateful for that, calling him an important “ally”. We all need allies, of course. Plus, being involved with “women’s issues” gets grant money. Sometimes lots of it. When I worked at a major progressive Israeli foundation, money designated for “women’s issues” often ended up going to men like him, even though they weren’t necessarily doing “women’s issues” but rather hiring men to talk about women’s issues. (Special shout-out to underappreciated but vital fundraising writers.) One day, I asked the grant officer at this Foundation why all this money for “women’s issues” was going to a big organization run by men that wasn’t exactly about women, he said, “They have more capacity.” Ah, they have bigger budgets. I said, “Of course they have bigger budgets because they are getting more money, even money that should be going to women.” He stared at me blankly. He didn’t understand that viscous cycle that he was stuck in, or possibly perpetuating. I was unsuccessful in my effort to get him to see women. They eventually closed down the whole grant area dedicated to women.
But I digress. That story isn’t even the point of this blog.
Fast forward a year or two and someone on one of my online Jewish feminist groups writes a glowing post about how amazing Rabbi Armani is for women, especially on the issue of agunot. I rolled my eyes. But I did not actually share my entire story with Rabbi Armani and the time he admitted in public that he was using women to advance himself. I simply wrote, “You know, maybe we should be offering our support and accolades for the women doing the work of helping women, and not the guy in the Armani suit getting the budgets and getting the credit for women’s work.”
Well, the poster flipped out. I mean, really flipped out. The rest of the thread became about me. How terrible it was that I attacked such an amazing rabbi. How dare I dishonor someone so amazing and wonderful and blah blah blah blah blah. I went to a private discussion with her and tried to reason with her and explain my position and my experience, but it was no use. She was just, well, flipping out. Completely irrational and beyond any version of engaging in a normal conversation. After all, I had challenged her revered rabbi, and that was, apparently, like, the worst thing anyone can ever do ever.
That was one of my most memorable experiences of a personality type I affectionately call…..
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