Why do feminists hate Brett Kavanaugh

Germaine Greer is used to trouble, she bathes in it, she loves him. She is now 79 years old, one of the most famous feminists in the world, and she has a strong tendency to say things that make a huge number of people extremely upset. Especially women.

In the "Me Too" debate, she found that women who had spread their legs to get a role in Hollywood should not complain about their fate years later, when their confidentiality agreement expires. The outcry of the "Me Too" activists that followed could be heard from Great Britain, where the Australian and long-time Cambridge professor partly lives, to her rainforest project in Queensland Down Under.

Regarding transgender women born as men, she says they shouldn't be recognized as women because they don't even know what it feels like or what it means to be a woman. The appointment of a professor at her former, all-female college who had applied as a trans woman, she fought - in vain - to the last.

Her attitude towards female circumcision is also all different from mainstream. She likes to refer to the fight against it as an "attack on cultural identity" and denies that it is a patriarchal instrument for the suppression of female sexuality. After all, women also advocate it.

You don't have to like her positions, but she is strong

Wherever the author of bestsellers such as "The Female Eunuch", "The Whole Woman" or "The Secret Castration" appears, there are loud protests. At universities, at festivals or at readings, proponents of "no-platforming" campaigns, i.e. bans on appearing for Greer, drown out the debate. She doesn't care. "I've never been prevented from speaking," she said recently on a program on Australian television. "I just feel sorry for the organizers who have to pay expensive security people."

You don't have to like Greer and their positions. But she is strong, she argues strongly, she makes some women strong with her work. She despises co-workers who do not defend themselves, who allow themselves to be made small, who submit to their imposed role instead of rebellion, be it in everyday life, at work, during sex. And she looks down on those feminists who have come to terms with a man's world that still sets the rules. To this day, she insists that women do not know how much men hated them. And that they didn't even notice how men made them hate themselves.

All of this can be found, in a different context, in her new book, oh well: booklet, as small and flat as a CD. "GERMAINE GREER ON RAPE" is written on it in capital letters, and again she has done it: She is panned, condemned, and everyone is talking about her. In Australia, where the essay on rape appeared first, and in her second home, Great Britain, where "On Rape" was published by Bloomsbury, Greer has been accused of glossing over, trivializing, overly defining rape or talking about rape victims and her To exalt trauma.

In May of this year there were the first outraged reactions, which have now built up into a chorus of indignant. In the spring, Greer presented her theses for the first time at the Hay Literature Festival, and what came out of it was summed up in the media as follows: According to Greer, "rape is often just bad sex". Bloomsbury was then criticized for bringing the manuscript out at all. In the past few weeks, her provocative essay has been reviewed in all the major newspapers in the country and has mostly been sharply criticized. Psychologists, activists and rape victims have been questioned.

Last Tuesday, during prime time, she finally answered questions on the BBC. The program is heard across the country, and anyone who gets a large forum here can enlighten - or disturb - millions. To be raped by a stranger is bloody bad luck, she told the BBC, "but it's like being run over by a bus. You don't have to internalize that and question your whole life." The kindest reaction to that was: a refreshing approach. She makes it clear that women have a choice.

After that. The book comes strangely remote from the world at a time when rape can easily become a political weapon, as the hearing of Chief Justice-Designate Brett Kavanaugh in the United States shows. The allegation by the Republicans that the alleged victim of Kavanaugh, the now 51-year-old Christine Blasey Ford, a seasoned academic, was involved in a conspiracy, currently shows how quickly the allegation is directed against the victim and how quickly a trauma can be politically instrumentalized can.