Elizabeth Fox-Genovese and some thoughts on apostasy
It's been a hard couple of years; so many renowned feminists have died in the past 24 months: Dworkin, Butler, Friedan; most, like Fox-Genovese, died far too young. Of course, the feminist blogosphere has devoted rather less attention to the passing of the last of these. We are always hardest on former allies who apostasize, after all, whether that apostasy leads them to the left or, as in Fox-Genovese's case, over to the Catholic Right.
Like Frederica Mathews-Green, Fox-Genovese began her career as a secular feminist. Her work on slave and white women in the antebellum south was universally praised. Perhaps more importantly, she helped establish one of America's very first doctoral programs in Women's Studies at Emory University, where she remained as professor until her death.
In later years, however, she and her husband became serious, conservative Catholics. She became, like Christina Hoff Summers, a very public anti-feminist, rejecting her old positions and celebrating a radically different world view, grounded in her own sincere conversion.
Her passing was marked by the right; read this touching memorial from Robert George at National Review.
Apostasy is a funny thing, especially for those of us who make our living in the world of ideas, religion, or politics. The history of the academy is littered with examples of men and women who achieved a sterling reputation linked to one set of ideological principles which they later repudiated. Some move from left to right (think of the David Horowitzes of the world); others move from right to left (think of Barry Goldwater, or the"evolution" of certain Supreme Court justices.) This evolution or apostasy is usually accompanied by shrill cries of disappointment and betrayal by those who feel abandoned, and an effusive welcome from the former enemies whom one has now joined. Friendships are often severed in the process, though in Fox-Genovese's case, that seems to have happily not been true.
All sides in an ideological battle like to welcome adult converts. Both left and right, feminists and anti-feminists, tend to flatter themselves with the notion that wisdom and maturity will invariably lead discerning folks to their particular position. It's immensely satisfying to construct a narrative of personal growth that suggests that one could be one thing when one was young and coltish, but become something else once one"really understood how the world works." Those who join our battle late in life, particularly when they have switched sides after a period of reflection, are often more celebrated than the" cradle believers." Ideologues on left and right love the idea that someone has"tried out the other side" and"evolved" to seeing things our way.
Some of us demonize our ideological opponents, but most of us tend to think of them as well-intentioned and misinformed rather than genuinely malicious."If only they really understood as we understand", we say to ourselves,"they'd come round." When on occasion they do, abandoning their old beliefs for new ones, we rejoice. In the same way, when a former ally leaves us for"the dark side" (be it traditional Catholicism or secular feminism), we lament their"fall". We assume that they were"tempted", or underwent some sort of psychic trauma from which they couldn't recover. We tend to pathologize apostasy when it takes a colleague in the struggle away from us, because most of us can't accept a legitimate intellectual or spiritual reason why a fellow soldier in the culture war would switch sides.
Elizabeth Fox-Genovese was an important American historian, and an important figure in the Women's Studies movement. That in her later years she turned her back on many of her earlier positions is not evidence that those positions were flawed, immature or inadequate. But by the same token, her transformation into a Catholic traditionalist doesn't vitiate the importance of her earlier work, and it doesn't diminish the obligation of those of us who share the commitments she abandoned to thank her for her service and to celebrate her life.