IN HER excellent essay, Susan Okin draws attention to inherent tensions between group rights and women’s rights. She points to the fact that establishing group rights which enable minority cultures to preserve themselves may not be in the best interest of the girls and women of these cultures. This is patently true.
This brief comment supports Okin’s claims and argues that the importance of the issues she raises extends far beyond feminist concerns. It is a word of caution, calling upon liberal political theorists and liberal political activists to acknowledge that group rights strengthen dominant subgroups within each culture and privilege conservative interpretations of culture over reformative and innovative ones. Women rarely belong to the more powerful groups in society, and protectors of women’s rights do not affiliate themselves with conservative segments. It follows, then, that women, and those who strive to protect their rights and equal status, are among the first to be harmed by group rights. Their plight, however, is not unique. It is shared by all those who wish to diverge from accepted social norms and question the traditional role of social institutions.1
Why do group rights serve best the interests of those members of society who are powerful and conservative? To begin with, the notion of group rights as it is often used in the current debate presupposes that “the group” is a unified agent. Rights are bestowed upon “the group” in order to preserve “its” tradition and defend “its” interests. Identifying “the” tradition and “the” interests of “the” group becomes a precondition for realizing these rights. Consequently, internal schisms and disagreements are perceived as a threat to the ability of the group to protect its rights. Group leaders are therefore motivated to foster unanimity, or at least an appearance of unanimity, even at the cost of internal oppression.
Attempts to achieve unanimity are particularly dangerous in those communities which lack formal, democratic decision-making processes. Under such circumstances it is the elderly of the tribe, members of councils of sages, who determine the groups’ norms and interests. Members of such bodies are commonly men, who endorse a rather orthodox point of view. Social norms and institutions place these individuals in a dominant position, and group rights consolidate this position even further. Granting nondemocratic communities group rights thus amounts to siding with the privileged and the powerful against those who are powerless, oppressed, and marginalized, with the traditionalists (often even the reactionary) against the nonconformists, the reformers, and the dissenters.
The conservative nature of group rights is reinforced by the justifications adduced in their defense. The group is granted rights in order to preserve its culture, language, tradition. These are described, by most defenders of group rights, in nostalgic, nonrealistic terms. They are depicted as authentic, unique, even natural. Those who attempt to consolidate the conservative way of doing things are therefore portrayed as loyal defenders of the group; those who strive for social transformation and cultural reformers are perceived as agents of assimilation who betray the group and its tradition. The former are depicted as virtuous individuals who dedicate themselves to the common good; the latter are suspected of being motivated by narrow self-interest—of giving priority to short-term preferences for personal comfort and prosperity over long-term commitments to the welfare of the community.
Agents of social and cultural change are portrayed as feebleminded individuals who are tempted by the material affluence of the surrounding society, as those who sell their soul to an external devil in exchange for some glittering beads. It therefore seems legitimate to criticize, scorn, even persecute them. This is the fate of Reform Jews who are often portrayed by the Orthodox establishment as irresponsible, weak-minded, pleasure-seeking individuals who wish to escape the burden of Judaism in order to adopt a less demanding lifestyle. Reform Jews, Orthodox argue, are swayed by the external (and superficial) beauty of Christian architecture and ceremonies. The reforms they offer are seen as grounded in mimicry, as an attempt to be like the Gentiles rather than as a call to reevaluate Judaism and offer ways in which it can answer the needs and challenges of modernity. Reform Judaism is therefore portrayed as a threat to the survival of Judaism rather than as an attempt to save it.
The use of the term survival in the context of the debate over group rights is common, yet alarming. It misdescribes what is at stake, intensifying the cost of change and fostering the belief that any violation of social and religious norms, any reform of traditional institutions and the group’s customary ways of life, endangers its existence and must therefore be rejected.
Moreover, it intentionally obscures the distinction between two kinds of communal destruction: the first results from external pressures “exhorted” by nonmembers; the second, from the desire of members of the community. It is clear why we ought to protect a community and its members in cases of the first kind, but should we protect a community also against the preferences of its own members? Is it just, or desirable, to allow those who aspire to preserve the communal tradition—often members of the dominant and privileged elite—to force others who have grown indifferent or even hostile to this tradition to adhere to that tradition?
Obviously, defenders of group rights who use the term survival to denote cultural continuity tend to give priority to this end over and above individual rights. Charles Taylor’s discussion of the Canadian case demonstrates this order of priorities: “It is axiomatic for the Quebec government that the survival and flourishing of French culture in Quebec is a good. . . . It is not just a matter of having the French language available for those who might choose it. . . . Policies aimed at survival actively seek to create members of the community, for instance, in their assuring that future generations continue to identify as French speakers.”2
It should be clear by now that in the Canadian case, as well as in the debate between Orthodox and Reform Judaism, the term survival refers not to the actual survival of the community or its members but to the survival of the traditional way of life. It is used to justify the taking of extreme measures, including disregard for individual rights and forceful suspension of internal criticism, for the sake of preventing change. But is there a reason to prevent a particular way of life from undergoing change? Should one protect a community against cultural revisions or reforms, even radical ones, if these are accepted by its members? The answer to the above question depends on the motivations one may have for protecting cultures or traditions.
An approach that is grounded in the right of individuals to pursue their lives the way they see fit must support individuals who wish to reform their tradition and change their lifestyle as much as it ought to support individuals who wish to retain their traditional way of life. It must be attentive to the kind of life plans individuals adopt and pursue, without prejudging in favor of conservative options. It should therefore defend individuals against pressures to conform and protect their choice to reform their tradition or even exit the community altogether. The opposite is true for an approach that is motivated by the desire to defend endangered cultures. Such an approach must favor conservative forces over reformist ones, even at the price of harming some individual interests. Obviously multiculturalism that is grounded in the former approach is friendly to feminism, while that which is grounded in the latter is not.
It is not uncommon for liberal scholars to offer theoretical justifications for the first kind of approach while supporting policies that accord with the second. In Liberalism, Community, and Culture, Kymlicka justifies group rights by making references to the well-being of individuals. And yet he sides with those who aspire to defend traditional ways of life from both external and internal pressures. This becomes clear in his discussion of mixed marriages. When Indians who live on reservations marry outsiders, a problem of overcrowding emerges that does not permit the allocation of land to each family. Kymlicka describes two traditional solutions to this problem: the first adopts the blood criterion according to which “only those with a certain proportion of Indian blood can be full members of the band, so non-Indians spouses never acquire membership, nor do children if they have less than the required proportion.”3 The second endorses a criterion based on kinship, according to which every member of the family has the same status, but Indian women who enter into mixed marriage lose their status.4 Both solutions disadvantage those members who deviate from the norm of marrying within the tribe, and the kinship approach specifically discriminates against women.
Is there a nondiscriminatory solution to the problem of overcrowding? Such a solution will have to surrender the (reactionary) assumption that in order to retain their identity, all members of the tribe must adopt traditional kinds of occupations which are land-consuming. Why not encourage some Indians to acquire new types of occupations? Why is it assumed that the only way Indians can retain their identity and tradition is by adhering to the same kinds of occupations their forefathers, or foremothers, pursued? Why is it that Americans from Philadelphia can retain their American identity despite the fact that they live cultural, social, and professional lives very different from those of their agrarian predecessors, while Indian men and women can retain their identity only if they preserve a way of life that is as similar as possible to the one experienced by previous generations?
A great deal of paternalism is embedded in the assumption that while “we” can survive change and innovation and endure the tensions created by modernity, “they” cannot; that “we” can repeatedly reinvent ourselves, our culture, our tradition, while “they” must adhere to known cultural patterns. These assumptions are particularly damaging for women who can improve their social status only by challenging traditional norms. If a society cannot undergo change while retaining its identity, then the aspiration of women to improve their social position necessarily comes into conflict with the rights of the group.
If, however, culture and tradition are seen in a less static light, then reformers could be seen as contributing to the preservation of the communal identity no less than conservatives. The fate of a culture, a language, or a religion ought to be determined by its members. For that purpose one must grant cultural, religious, national rights to individuals rather than to the community as a whole. The difference between granting cultural or religious rights to individuals and granting them to groups is evident if one compares the status of the Reform movement in Israel and in the United States. In the United States religious rights are individual rights—under these condition the Reform movement flourishes, as a large percentage of American Jews choose to affiliate with it. In Israel, on the other hand, religious rights are granted to each religious community. The search for a unified voice that represents the Jewish community provokes a struggle among the different Jewish movements. The Orthodox, who succeeded in presenting themselves as the sole authoritative representatives of Judaism, attempt to disqualify all other versions, especially the Reform one. The Reform movement is thus presented as a threat to the continued existence of the Jewish people, and its members are deprived of their religious rights. Unlike Orthodox institutions, Reform ones receive almost no financial support from the state; the teachings of the Reform movement are not part of Jewish studies in schools; and Reform rabbis cannot perform marriage. Consequently the Reform movement finds it very hard to form an Israeli branch. As a result, in Israel (unlike the United States), individual Jews are unable to make a free choice concerning the way they would like to practice their religion.
This analysis can teach three lessons: first, we should have a realistic, less sentimental view of traditional communities and a less static view of culture. We ought to recognize that cultures are permanently changing and developing, and that there is no reason to “freeze” a culture in order to preserve it. Cultures hostile to change are less likely to flourish and stand the risk of degeneration. Second, we should trust the ability of individuals to withstand change and reform their traditions and lifestyle without surrendering completely their particular identity. Third, we must entrust the faith of the community to its individual members. We ought then to empower individuals by granting them individual rights. In so doing, we may protect the rights of the less powerful and less conservative members of each group to live their lives and preserve their identity the way they see fit. In so doing, we may also provide help and support for agents of cultural and social change in general, and in particular for defenders of women’s rights.