NAPIER, NEW ZEALAND - JANUARY 19: Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern announces her resignation at the War Memorial Centre on January 19, 2023 in Napier, New Zealand. (Photo by Kerry Marshall/Getty Images)
On 19 January, the BBC ran a story with the controversial headline: “Jacinda Arden: Can women really have it all?”, in its coverage of her landmark decision to resign, reached by a woman who was the youngest woman in the world to be elected prime minister, at the age of 37, in 2017.
Severe backlash followed on social and traditional media, with many criticising the headline for being sexist, insulting and belittling — particularly because the article alluded that because she was a working mother with a small child she could not cope with her responsibilities. But the main contention was that the BBC was misogynistic because coverage of the resignations of male politicians was always gender-neutral and made no mention of their roles as husbands or fathers.
The BBC, the following day, changed the headline to “Jacinda Ardern resigns: Departure reveals unique pressures on PM.” A BBC spokesperson announced that the broadcaster realised that the earlier “headline wasn’t suitable for the story”.
Ardern was transparent and candid in her resignation speech. “I am human. We give as much as we can for as long as we can and then it’s time. And for me, it’s time”; as well as citing that she no longer has “enough in the tank”.
One fundamental feminist leadership lesson is the awareness that to change the world, one ought to begin by changing, healing and transforming the self, which is why self-care is considered a feminist revolutionary act. Ardern’s track record of steering New Zealand through unprecedented challenges such as natural disasters, the Covid-19 pandemic and a terror attack may be lauded by many. But some shortsighted critics may fail to grasp the toll that those unique interventions took on her when they carelessly and simply attribute her resignation to “burnout”.
Rather, Ardern can be read as having a socially-just consciousness that manifests at the personal level. Another feminist leadership practice Ardern engendered was to remind the world that motherhood is never an impediment to public service. She made history with her decision to take her baby to a United Nations General Assembly in 2018, in New York. This reflects a deliberate feminist act of resistance against the normative culture of the masculinised UN. Her baby’s presence there represents the notion of the personal as very much political.
Moreover, the choice to have a baby while in office as a prime minister was a powerful feminist statement against the notion of the motherhood penalty that tends to be used to dissuade working women from having babies. Most women assume that becoming a mother will negatively affect their ability to do their jobs well.
The notion rings true in contexts where there is no personal and institutional support to help women who have to deal with increased unpaid caregiving work, over and above their commercially paid employment. This is where state intervention and support are required, and something South Africa and many other countries should reflect upon.
Apart from crucial labour law reforms that help parents, including organisational cultures that are geared towards assisting working mothers to transition into the workplace, it may be helpful for micro-institutions to consider gendered interventions, such as allowing parents to continue work from home when their children are ill, besides the parental responsibility leave. This may be helpful for working-class households who may not be able to afford to pay for special childcare services. Furthermore, there should be sustainability measures put in place to ensure that mothers can sustain their work, by centralising their wellbeing.
At a macro level, it is important to have well-functioning and subsidised social infrastructure such as healthcare, security and education to ease the responsibilities of caregivers. Ardern’s class privilege played a big role in enabling her to effectively continue in her duties, because of the support she had with her baby.
This must not be misconstrued as a universal experience. Intersectional positionalities of different women yield unique experiences and circumstances, which is the reason for the call for intersectional leadership that is responsive to the different experiences of diverse women in society.
Another factor worth noting from the news reports about Ardern is her symbolic resistance against Islamophobia. What set her apart as a feminist leader was her clear commitment to not only showing solidarity with the victims of the mass shooting perpetrated by a white supremacist killer at a mosque in New Zealand. She also accompanied her commitment to social justice through her bill to ban military-type semi-automatic guns in the country.
Thus, the loss of a female political leader of the calibre of Ardern should be mourned, in the context of our troubled world, riddled with various forms of crises and problematic political decisions. However, it is crucial to acknowledge her contribution without essentialising female leaders through romanticisation, particularly because we have had relatively masculinised women leaders who can also terrorise in overt and/or subtle forms.
This article advances the appreciation for women who lead in ways that are divergent from traditional norms or forms of leadership. The types of realist leadership approaches that normalises military aggression, power-mongering, and strength without factoring in other qualities of leadership, have arguably engendered a world that lacks social cohesion.
Ardern said she wishes to be remembered by New Zealanders as a kind, strong, empathetic, decisive, optimistic and focused leader. This relates to the feminists’ challenge of the dichotomous logic inherent in patriarchal contexts. Her statement alludes to the idea of a holistic, well-balanced leader who tried to transcend dichotomies.
Her words remind us of the importance of balance that goes beyond binaries that tend to breed destruction, and that is incompatible with the healing that the world needs. Her decision to not contest for a third term is also quite fascinating, especially in the context of our problems as Africans, where certain leaders have attempted to extend their terms in office, often through constitutional amendments.
Her resignation also triggers thoughts of our own crises in South Africa, where the perennial occupation of power by the ANC does not reflect the self-awareness of knowing when it’s time to leave, when your presence no longer serves the common good. We can appreciate that political leadership at the highest levels is difficult, and often divergent interests lead to competing aspirations and strategies.
At what point will our leaders in South Africa start contemplating the effect of their choices to not leave office to provide space for others with a genuine spirit of service to the citizens?
Perhaps our own ANC leadership could learn these few lessons from Ardern.
The views expressed are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the Mail & Guardian.