Why This Democrat Won't Vote for Hillary Clinton

[Ubiquitous]

Caitlin Flanagan

'As Democrats, as women, we must ask ourselves: Do we stand with all
women who report sexual assault?'










More

Donald Trump Is a Mother’s Nightmare

Rep. Grijalva: Citizens United Undermines Our Democracy

Michael Moore: Flint Poisoning Is a ‘Racial Crime’



RECOMMENDED FOR YOU




Watch Key & Peele Try to Save a Kitten in 'Keanu' Trailer
Play Video ?


Watch Key & Peele Try to Save a Kitten in 'Keanu' Trailer




See the Future of Transportation
Play Video ?


See the Future of Transportation




Read Alan Rickman's Touching Goodbye Letter to Harry Potter
Play Video ?


Read Alan Rickman's Touching Goodbye Letter to Harry Potter




Disturbing Photos of The Most Evil Men In History as Children
Promoted


Disturbing Photos of The Most Evil Men In History as Children







Watch Key & Peele Try to Save a Kitten in 'Keanu' Trailer
Play Video








See the Future of Transportation
Play Video








Read Alan Rickman's Touching Goodbye Letter to Harry Potter
Play Video








Disturbing Photos of The Most Evil Men In History as Children








Recommended by

The aspect of feminism that affected me on the most powerful, personal
level was the idea that when a woman came forward to report that she
had been raped we would believe her — publicly and unanimously. I knew
what it was like to have a man try to force sex on me; I knew what it
was like to arrange my work life so that I could avoid the boorish men
who made vulgar sexual remarks in the office.

I was always amazed—dazzled—when women were brave enough to come
forward and tell others what had happened to them. For years, I’d been
too ashamed to tell even my friends about the things I’d experienced.
But now, if we all stood together, the force of our public belief in
one another could change things. And it did. And it was exciting and
big and important.

I was proud, then, to use the word “feminist” to describe myself. I
remember watching the Anita Hill trial in 1991 and burning with
indignation at what the committee members were putting her through. I
believed her about Clarence Thomas then, and I believe her now: how
humiliating it was for her to describe the shaming things that man had
said to her. The men on that committee relished making her go through
those details over and over again, just as men have done to the women
who tell the truth throughout history as a way to humiliate them so
deeply that they stop talking, and give up.

I was excited about Bill Clinton’s campaign, and I voted for him. I
could not have been less concerned about Gennifer Flowers, who showed
up in a press conference to announce she’d been his Little Rock
mistress. I don’t care about the private, consensual sex lives of my
elected politicians, nor do I care about those of my dentist,
accountant or plumber. The nature of the Clinton’s marriage wasn’t my
business. Plus, I was then involved in work for abused children, an
area to which Hillary had devoted much of her working life. The
Clintons seemed to me to be hugely impressive people.

But then I heard about Paula Jones, who came forward with a very
different story — of the ugliest type of workplace sexual harassment. I
was shocked and I was disgusted, and I believed her. I assumed we _all_
believed her. Wasn’t that how we were changing the country for victims
of these kinds of acts?

Well… No.

Immediately I was told by my lefty friends and by the lefty press that
I was foolish, that I was naive, that I didn’t understand politics.
Immediately this woman—who had come forward to describe a hideous
event—was shamed as a big-haired, no-class hick who was telling a lie
for financial gain.

It turned out that even radical feminists around would easily believe a
woman could lie about sexual harassment for personal gain.

There was an exception to believing everyone that I hadn’t grasped
right out of the gate. We were going to _choose_ whom to believe.

Based on what?

Based on the politics and political power of the man accused.

If a man’s politics—not his personal behavior, his politics—were deemed
to be pro-woman, his accuser would be subject to doubt, and to forensic
levels of investigation and titanic public ridicule—even from other
women. It turned out that if you dragged a $20 bill through a trailer
park, a bunch of lying sluts would show up to grab it.

Oh.

I voted for Clinton again. Because I was starting to become a little
less naive. And because the stock market was rocking, and because when
I had a C-section, my insurance paid for four days in the hospital
instead of two, which was a special gift to me from Bill Clinton. He
was always good with women that way—he knew how to reach into the most
intimate moments of a female voter’s life and make her grateful to him.
Bill had dragged a four-night hospital stay through a nice neighborhood
in Santa Monica, and I had darted out of my duplex apartment to grab
it.


But then I saw Juanita Broaddrick tell her story, and I had a physical
reaction. In 1999, she described his visit to her hotel room and the
sex he forced on her. I sat in my living room watching her describe
that rape and I thought: “She’s telling the truth.” My response was not
considered; it was visceral. If it’s possible that one woman can listen
to another woman tell her story of rape and just sort of _know_ that
she’s telling the truth, I had that reaction.

But by then, I had learned to doubt. By then I had learned to ask
questions I never had asked about rape victims before. Why had she
waited so long to tell the story publicly? Why had she chosen that
particular moment? Why did small details not add up? What did she stand
to gain from telling it?

The Clinton machine taught me to ask those questions of rape victims.

What did Hillary know, and when did she know it? She must have known a
lot, and she must have known it early on. She knew that the kind of
women who vote for Democrats care about three or four huge issues—
abortion above all—and that if you stay on the right side of those
three or four issues, much will be forgiven, or overlooked, or
disbelieved. In short, Hillary understood politics, at its most base
and distasteful level.

So when Hillary Clinton tells you that “every survivor of sexual
assault deserves to be heard, believed and supported,” realize that
what she’s serving up is a classic Clinton dodge. She’s not saying that
every woman who reports a sexual assault deserves to be believed. In
that case, we would have to believe Paula Jones and Juanita Broaddrick.

And everyone knows—they’re just crazy.

Now young Democrat women voters have been handed this whole sorry mess
to sort out. As a group, they tend to have a low opinion of people who
marginalize and ridicule women who report sexual assault. Ditto people
who promulgate the ugly old notion that women are likely to lie about
rape if they can find a way to profit (emotionally or financially) from
it. But will these young women risk a Republican presidency so that
they can send a loud message about discrediting rape survivors? Or will
they grow up and accept the nasty business of politics?

According to the New York Times, Lena Dunham is one young woman who’s
seen the bigger picture. In public, she’s a vocal Hillary supporter—a
smart-bomb directed right at the happening young women Clinton needs in
the tent. But in private, says the Times, she knows exactly who—and
what—she is endorsing. At a recent, private dinner party—held in a
plutocrat’s Park Avenue penthouse, as far from the trailer park as you
can get—she supposedly admitted that she was “disturbed” by the
Clintons’ treatment of women who came forward in the 1990’s. (Dunham’s
spokesperson said the quote was a “mischaracterization” of her
comments.)

As Democrats, as women, we must ask ourselves: Do we stand with the
women who report sexual assault—all women: big-haired, “slutty,”
trailer-park, all of them—or do we stand, once again, with the Clinton
machine and its Arkansas droit du seigneur?

When I was young, my father told me what his father told him: If I got
in the voting booth and so much as reached for the Republican lever,
the hand of God would come into that voting booth and strike me dead.

I’m not taking any chances.

But I won’t vote for a candidate who helped “destroy” the credibility
of women who came forward to report that they had been preyed upon
sexually by a powerful man. This year, for the first time in my voting
life, I’m staying home.


--
What's the difference between a Socialist & a Democrat? When Hillary &
Bernie are on the debate stage, you'll see it's about 2" in height.