Spain, the Self ID Law and Our Feminist Dissent
By Mara Ricoy Olariaga, Birth Educator, Activist and Writer
I am Spanish but I live in Glasgow, and recently in the same week I felt our politics were closer than ever in the weirdest possible way. In Scotland Nicola Sturgeon, a self-identified feminist who has campaigned for the Self Id law in Scotland, resigned as First Minister, I would like to think partially because of the titanic and persistent efforts through the years from my Scottish feminist sisters. She announced her resignation on a Wednesday, and on the Thursday I contemplated with horror the news in the press how in Spain another self-identified feminist politician who has campaigned extensively for self ID, Irene Montero, was celebrating its passing in the Spanish congress.
I really couldn’t believe this was happening; suddenly the far reaching consequences of this law started flooding my social media. Like the one explaining that “The ‘trans law’ settles 475 legal differences in force in Spain between men and women”, for example, the law allows men who change their registered sex to access subsidies or aid intended for women. And means that they cannot be tried for gender violence. But also that under the 'Trans Law': fines of 150,000 euros can be issued. The new law also harshly punishes the dissemination in schools of textbooks and teaching materials that can be considered as "transphobic". This law, which is known over there as the “trans law”, was implemented by the faction of Podemos which governs in coalition with the PSOE (the Spanish Socialist Workers Party).
Driven mostly by Montero, who is the minister of equality in Spain, the law has been approved using an emergency procedure amidst both a general lack of understanding of what the implications of such a law are and the heavy opposition of the feminists inside and out of the political arena.
On the official website of the Spanish government we can read:
Montero explained that the law establishes the right to self-determination of gender identity and the depathologisation of this recognition: "The state recognises trans people's right to be who they are, without witnesses, without any obligation to undergo hormone treatment for 2 years and without a medical report that says that they are sick".
This recognition procedure will be carried out by means of a double appearance system within a maximum period of four months for persons of legal age, and also for those aged between 16 and 18 years. Those aged between 14 and 16 years will need parental authorisation and for those aged between 12 and 14 years the procedure can be carried out through voluntary jurisdiction proceedings. Children under the age of 12 may change their name on their National Identity Card (DNI). In addition, trans migrants will be able to change the documents issued in Spain if their rights are not guaranteed in their country of origin.
I have been asking many people outside of my social media when I have visited Spain about the law, and the majority of people seem to have a vague idea of the topic but mostly assume that we are talking about sexual orientation. This has not come as a surprise to me when this has been constantly campaigned about and referred to as the rights of the “LGTBI people” which puts together Lesbian, Gay, Trans, Bisexuals and Intersex. But in many countries LGB has now separated from this acronym, creating their own associations, since Lesbians, Gays and Bisexuals are definitions based on sex and our sexual orientation. The Trans “T” which is now blurry, sometimes means transexual, sometimes transgender and often both, which is very confusing. The first one refers to a physical transition (which is permanent as sex cannot be changed) and the latter refers to gender which is a social construct, nothing physical, but rather a collection of stereotypes. And all of that refers to identity. The “I” representing intersex is about the variations in development of sexual characteristics of a minority. But this particular topic is not about sexual orientation but rather about a belief system, and this law is not about human rights but rather against freedom of expression and about the imposition of dogmatic ideologies. And it is not about lesbian women and gay men, as they are directly affected by this denial of sex. And it is not about improving lives, but rather about sexualising childhood and ignoring us women while making us even more vulnerable, yet again.
But this situation both in my country of residence, Scotland, and that of origin, Spain, has been pursued from the left, and it is happening with a sugar coating of progress despite its rancid core of conservatism. And for me this is the most unpalatable truth. I was a kid growing up in Spain in the aftermath of almost 40 years of Franco’s dictatorship. The PSOE and its leaders came back from exile around the time of my birth (1974) and I saw, lived and benefited from what socialism did in the awakening of a country trying to catch up with Europe and modernity.
PSOE was in power from 1982 to 1996. But at the beginning it was easy to see The Two Spains; it was easier to see who were right or left or as I saw it back then good and bad, or at least where people stood politically. But with time and democracy well established a more blurry picture appeared, as a Spanish saying goes: “Neither the good ones are so good nor the bad ones so bad”. And the economic crisis and state terrorism (GAL) against the violent separatist group ETA eroded the popularity of González during the 90s to the point that Spain moved to the right willingly despite our past, voting for the conservative PP (Partido Popular) party.
I feel the need to explain this historical background, because as the middle aged woman that I am at this point in time, I know progress, I have seen it, lived it. And to hear from the same political group that made it possible, those who I feel should represent me, that I must vote and applaud a new reality that involves reinforcing gender stereotypes and depriving women from the exclusivity of our spaces while confusing kids, politics, linguists and laws, it feels surreal.
But amongst all these dystopian headlines, suddenly a little glimpse of hope came in: The PSOE will fine senator Susanna Moll 600 euros for voting against the Trans Law.
On social networks, Moll defends her position stating that the rule "can bring pain to families".
A woman from the left representing me, representing us. I needed to find out more about her. I read online that Susanna Moll Kammerich is the senator who represents the territory of the Balearic Islands, and it is perhaps worth mentioning that in Spain, the Congress represents all the citizens of the country and debates and writes the laws. And although the Senate can propose laws, but it is not that common and rather reviews and proposes changes to the bills submitted to it by Congress. In addition, the Senate represents the territories. One thing I didn’t know existed is what is called the “voting discipline” which forces a member of a party to vote in agreement with that proposed by its party and not against, which meant the 600-euro sanction to both Susanna Moll for voting against the Self ID law and to Carmen Calvo for abstaining.
But Moll didn’t give any interviews to the press, instead she published a note on her Facebook account. I tried to connect with her via the official website of the senate but instead managed to find her quicker through Instagram. An extremely friendly woman, she replied to me and asked me where I was, with the intention to go for a coffee to which we both laughed as I am in Glasgow, and she lives in Mallorca. We finally met over Zoom and to my surprise just over two hours later I had a new friend, a promise to visit the Congress in Madrid and a quick exchange of many common interests. So with such a connection it wasn’t so easy for an amateur journalist like me to get the details I was after, as Susanna was too nice. She mentioned something that reminded me of Elaine Miller when she says she is adorable. Susanna Moll is another middle aged adorable woman, affable, interesting, a mother and, just like many of us, a feminist.
We talked about our common ground of having lived the early days of socialism in Spain, even though I am younger and she came from Germany where she was born in those days. She told me enthusiastically how holding her father’s hand she protested against Franco, so I can see very quickly where her political coherence comes from.
We jump from topic to topic but always touch back to feminism. I ask her if it is difficult to be a dissident and she tells me that it hasn’t been easy. She feels that the confusion at present is such that her gesture has been interpreted as opening the door to the far right. She is outraged at the mere idea of it.
We both speak about how we feminists, and women in general, are to blame for everything. She tells me that that’s why she didn't give any interviews: “I didn’t want to be manipulated by anyone, I didn’t want them to utilise my gesture, particularly the far right… But with you it is different because you are a fellow feminist, and this is for FiLiA because you understand where I am coming from. It is about women’s rights”.
I ask her if she believes in feminism being represented by a political party or if she thinks that it should be a social movement with a political agenda. She tells me passionately that to her it is more important that there are more of us everywhere in politics. She understands my disappointment with politics, my current feelings of political orphanhood but encourages me to understand that we need to change things from the inside. She also tells me about FEMES which I didn’t know about, the Association of Socialists Feminists in Spain. Moll invites me to register for their congress online, which I have done.
I admit that I was looking for someone who perhaps had answers or power, but instead I found a fellow woman who is exactly as upset and frustrated as I am and for the same reasons, witnessing how a very strange corruption of language and reality is taking place in our country.
I ask her: “What can we do? What can women like me who are not in politics do?”. “Pedagogy,” she replies, “you do that a lot in your social media!” It feels insignificant to me; I feel like I rant. But I can’t help but think that in Scotland my feminist sisters were out in the streets every weekend explaining in the rain the practicalities of the Self ID law. And maybe Moll is right, maybe we need to do it in Spain and more often.
Immediately after the approval of the Self ID law in Spain, I noticed an increase in the outrage in my social media and more people, previously quiet, now complaining openly. When I asked why most Spaniards seemed to be reacting after the event, various theories were given to me as a reply… But a common one: lack of information, people not knowing enough.
Pedagogy, as much I hate the idea of being the victim, survivor and the one who has to explain the crime, might actually be more important than ever. I don’t know. But it is true that these days ignorance seems to be thriving or at least becoming the perfect compost to grow some weird new order.
Just when I am thinking of a quote by Joan Baez, “Action is the antidote for despair,” images from Europa press arrive to my inbox, about a conference where Irene Montero was talking about “feminism”. While she was defending the idea that women can have a penis and men can have a vulva, supporting prostitution and surrogacy, a fellow feminist Patricia Bilbao interrupted Montero´s speech shouting: “Being a woman is not a feeling”. Montero, who has refused any debate with other feminists, parent associations or anyone who has challenged this law, while now centre stage, challenged Patricia to debate with her. Patricia and three of her friends, however, simply started to leave with their hands in the feminist gesture of a symbolic vulva and were then escorted out as everyone at the conference shouted: "Fascists out of our universities.”
I asked Patricia Bilbao, what she felt when they were being called fascists. She just replied: “I felt as if I was surrounded by robots.”
And this is the scary part, the ministry of equality in Spain was created in 2008 by PSOE to reduce the inequalities between men and women and to fight against violence towards women. And now in 2023 when those problems prevail in Spain and when 99 women were killed last year at the hands of men and already 14 since the beginning of this year. And when the ministry is now totally devoted to promoting LGTBI+ issues and to creating a law that opposes the reality of women and the physical reality, a woman shouting for our rights the way Patricia Bilbao did is now called fascism. Such topsy-turviness terrifies me. If we lose the parameters, the words, the concepts, how are we going to fight, debate and do politics? If democracy is under attack and calling it out is fascism where do we go from there?
When Patricia was asked why she jeered at Irene Montero, she replied: “She is not a feminist nor from the left, she wants to erase women”.
It is a simple truth, but a truth that somehow seems impossible to get out these days. When I spoke to Susanna Moll about her decision to vote against this law and the many discussions she had with her colleagues trying to dissuade her, she told me that others couldn’t understand that this was a very personal and feminist decision: “I just couldn’t vote that, it was like going against myself, against us women!”
As long as there are women like Susanna and Patricia I will also fight for what is rightfully ours, because sorority is the mirror where we see ourselves beyond patriarchy.
I end my conversation thanking Susanna for her integrity, and she thanks me for my activism.
We, together, are doing this, and we need to know that. These are strange days, but there are so many of us resisting.
We are women, hear us roar! It might be silent, it might be a gentle “no”, it might be a shout, it might be a blog post like this one I am writing, but it is definitely a collective and ancient roar. Because despite the transgressive ambitions of these new politics, it is the same old oppressive patriarchy and we can see right through it.
The emperor is not naked, he is trying to get dressed with our skin, and we are screaming, of course we are, and we will continue to do so until we are heard.