Newsweek's new issue on "The Bill Factor" raises some interesting questions about Hillary Clinton's candidacy and whether she's "the first woman," "the second Clinton" or (obviously) both.
Jonathan Alter's column seems to represent the confusion about which factor will become most critical to Clinton's candidacy. First, he suggest it's less about gender: "The threshold question for voters is less about putting the first woman in the White House than the second Clinton."
Then, he seems to suggest family (i.e. the Clinton dynasty) is separate from and more important than gender: "In fact, family -- even a dysfunctional family -- often trumps gender, as the election of wives and daughters as heads of state in highly patriarchal countries like India, Pakistan, Argentina, Indonesia and the Philippines attests."
In the end, he admits, "The impact of gender is as much of a wild card for Clinton as our dynastic ambivalence." Possibly because you can't separate gender and the role it plays in our perception of families -- especially the former First Family.
Anna Quindlen's column captures the complexity more clearly:
"The truth is that Senator Clinton has a woman problem, but it's not the one we all might have envisioned decades ago. Certainly there may be Americans who covertly balk at the notion of a female president, despite what they may tell pollsters. And every time Clinton is described as calculating or ambitious, you realize that such words are never used for male politicians because for them both traits are assumed -- and accepted. Old habits die hard. In the first Republican presidential debate, moderator Chris Matthews asked the contenders how they would feel about having Bill Clinton back in the White House. In a single sentence he turned the Democratic front runner into the Little Woman, a mere adjunct to her husband."
Hillary Clinton as a candidate is a woman, a wife, and a mother. If she wins the nomination, she may not be the first female nominee anyone expected. Why? Take your pick: She's a pushover in public about her marriage, a shrew in private; She's too cold, too calculating, too controlling. But then, what do we expect of a nominee for President?
Perhaps we expected the first female nominee to be more like Carol Moseley Braun (who ran for the nomination in 2004) or Elizabeth Dole (2000) or Pat Schroeder (1988) or Shirley Chisholm (1972) or Margaret Chase Smith (1964)?
Why do we expect or hope a female nominee will be different than a male nominee? Is it naive to expect more (or less) of a woman? Is it revolutionary?
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