‘Where is my place?’ Women push back against French politics’ machismo.

As a local politician in the French city of Rouen, Laura Slimani has been privy to degrading comments on the job on several occasions. Once after delivering a speech as a young Socialist, she was congratulated by a male politician who pinched her on the cheek. 

Another time, when she came to work in a fitted skirt, a male colleague asked her why she was dressed like the boss’s secretary, conjuring up images of an oversexualized assistant. 

“It’s pretty frequent to have these kinds of comments,” says Ms. Slimani, now the deputy mayor of Rouen and also in charge of fighting gender equality and discrimination. “Sometimes the men in question don’t even realize they’re being offensive.” 

That was the case two weeks ago, when Ms. Slimani had a run-in with a right-wing politician during a city council meeting. After arguing over naming more schools after notable French women, the male politician told the mayor – also a man – to “put [Ms. Slimani] in her place.” 

“‘Where is my place,’ I asked him. ‘Outside?’” says Ms. Slimani. “Later, I told the mayor why it was so offensive to have one man tell another man where my place was, as a woman, in a political setting.” 

In the run-up to the second round of the French legislative elections on Sunday, issues related to gender have become important factors in the race. Though President Emmanuel Macron has been lauded for choosing a woman as interim prime minister, political parties have been scrutinized about whether they satisfy the country’s laws requiring gender parity in the candidate lists they put forward. As female politicians and activists shine the light on gender equality, sexism, and sexual misconduct in politics, it has left parties with no choice but to react – and act.

“Since the beginning, there has been opposition and incomprehension within the political class about a woman’s place, but this is completely at odds with how women are viewed in the rest of society,” says Janine Mossuz-Lavau, a political scientist at Sciences Po Paris and a specialist in gender and politics. “No one has a problem with a woman doctor or a woman dentist. It really is specific to politics, which continues to have a very traditional view of society. 

“And when it comes to misconduct, there’s no place to hide now with social media and 24-hour news. Those who have made errors in judgment will pay the price.” 

Sexism at the National Assembly

French women were given the right to vote in 1944, and one year later 33 women were elected to the National Assembly’s then-522 seats. Ever since, gender equality in parliament has ebbed and flowed.

Since June 2000, political parties are required by French law to respect gender parity within a margin of 2% at the legislative elections. Those who don’t risk losing precious public funding. Among the list of 6,293 candidates this year, 44.2% are women and 55.8% are men. It is an improvement on 2012, which saw 40% women versus 60% men.

While Mr. Macron’s En Marche and the far-right National Rally party both meet the parity requirements this year, some political parties are still willing to be sanctioned instead of respecting the parity law. The far-left La France Insoumise, led by Jean-Luc Mélenchon, will forfeit more than €250,000 ($261,000) while the right-wing Les Républicains gave up €1.8 million.

From 2012 to 2017, the parity law failed to make significant changes – to the disdain of Danielle Bousquet, the president of France’s High Council on gender equality. During that period, the Socialist and Républicain parties were fined €6.4 million and €18 million, respectively. 

“Once again, the Républicains said they will be paying the fine this year,” says Julia Mouzan, founder of the multiparty, Bordeaux-based Elues Locales, France’s first network of female politicians. “Public funding is so important to smaller parties that they have to follow the parity law to survive. But unfortunately, it’s often the larger parties who are willing to pay the fine versus respecting the law.” 

There have been glimmers of progress. Elisabeth Borne recently became the second woman in France to be named prime minister. Following Ms. Borne’s appointment in May, Edith Cresson – France’s first female prime minister from 1991 to 1992 – wished the new leader “lots of luck,” while heavily criticizing the French political class for its “machismo.”  

Ms. Cresson was subjected to catcalls during a meeting of the National Assembly in 1992. Twenty years later, then-Housing Minister Cécile Duflot was whistled at during an Assembly meeting after arriving in a blue-flowered dress. According to a November 2021 study of 1,000 female politicians by Elues Locales, 74% said they had been victims of sexism in the workplace. 

“Women will tell us that when they show up to a political meeting, a male politician will ask them to get them a coffee or make photocopies,” says Ms. Mouzan. “There is a wide range of incidents that go from comments to physical actions, even threats. But what we hear about is only a fraction of what really goes on behind closed doors.” 

Pushing back on bad actors

Just as political parties and politicians have been called out for bad behavior on gender parity and sexism, there is a growing intolerance of acts of sexual misconduct by public officials.

Last November, 285 women – including politicians, businesswomen, and activists – signed an open letter published in Le Monde newspaper, calling for a stronger response against legislators facing such allegations. The #MeTooPolitique movement was born, and quickly gained traction thanks to similar social movements in France’s literary, cinema, and sports sectors.

In February, the five women – four politicians and one journalist – at the heart of #MeTooPolitique founded the Observatory for Sexist and Sexual Violence in Politics, a watchdog that publishes the names of male politicians accused of misconduct via their Twitter account.

“There is something very bourgeois about French politics, where talking about these things means talking about sex, which is still a taboo,” says Mathilde Viot, co-founder of the observatory. “But we’re trying to highlight the impunity mechanisms that take place in each affair, and the sense of solidarity between male politicians in which they protect one another, even across party lines.”

The observatory has been partly responsible for several public officials putting an end to their electoral bids due to mounting public pressure. Far-left assembly candidate Taha Bouhafs withdrew in mid-May after several women accused him of sexual assault.

And even after saying that his criminal record “shouldn’t stop [him] from political life,” Jérôme Peyrat, an En Marche candidate from the Dordogne, finally stepped out of the legislative race following controversy over his 2020 conviction of violence against his former partner. 

Still, several public officials accused of misconduct remain in their political functions, including Interior Minister Gérald Darmanin, who has been accused of rape and sexual harassment. Damien Abad, the recently appointed minister of solidarity, has been accused of rape by two women. Recent polls show him comfortably ahead in his local Ain department.

Elues Locales has encouraged its network to speak out about their experiences to make sexism and sexual violence more visible. Even if progress sometimes feels like one step forward and one step back, experts say the spotlight is finally being put on gender issues in politics in a meaningful way, which has forced change.  

“There are still archaic things about how female politicians are expected to be, but there is a huge difference between what was said and done even 10 years ago compared to today,” says Dr. Mossuz-Lavau of Sciences Po. “Obviously we need to reflect on what we can do to improve things, but we also need to be conscious of the past and see the evolution.”