Enough about Elliot Spitzer.
The New York governor ? who resigned from his post yesterday after reports alleged he was involved in a high-end prostitution ring for over nine years ? does not deserve a second more of your attention.
Instead, consider the common reaction that many, including myself, had when watching his press conference: ?What the hell is his wife doing up there??
Indeed, the sight of Silda Wall Spitzer standing at her cheating husband?s side as he made nugatory apologies to his family and the public was as troubling as it was heart-wrenching. And since then, the press and the public alike have been asking: Why would she do such a thing? How could she do such a thing? How can she live with herself?
It?s an act we?ve seen before, many times before. The charade of the despondent wife standing next to her politician husband while he apologizes to the public, his family and yes, his wife (he rarely turns from the cameras while he does this, by the way). It has all become commonplace. It is the expected reaction to a recurrent scandal.
In recent memory, we have seen Dina Matos McGreevey stand by her husband, the former New Jersey governor, while he told the media he was ?a gay American,? and that he had had an affair with a male aide. In 2007, we saw Suzanne Craig, wearing oversized sunglasses, stand with her husband, U.S. Sen. Larry Craig, R-Idaho, as he admitted to soliciting sex at an airport bathroom stall. Earlier this year, Detroit Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick brought his wife beside him as he tried to explain suggestive text messages he had sent to his chief of staff. And most notably, then-first lady Hillary Clinton stood by her husband?s side as he denied sexual relations with White House intern Monica Lewinsky, later leading to his impeachment. The list goes on… and on.
But the drill seems only to apply to women standing next to their husbands. In fact, among the multitude of sex scandals that have been made public in the last 100 years only one ? yes, one ? involved a woman guilty of sexual indiscretion. In 1995, Helen Chenoweth, a Republican congresswoman from Idaho, admitted to having a six-year affair with a married associate. But she was single at the time, and we were not afforded the spectacle of what her hypothetical husband would have done. Would he have slouched beside her, holding her hand as they walked out? Would he have held his own rage-filled press conference? And would the media have reacted in kind, understanding his vehemence in such a trying time?
Furthermore, there is only one prominent account of a political wife not standing next to her husband after he engaged in sexual impropriety. In 2007, Corina Villaraigosa did not appear in public until after she had filed for divorce from her husband, the former Los Angeles mayor Antonio Villaraigosa, who was caught having an affair with a local news reporter. But even Ms. Villaraigosa?s tranquil behavior frustrated women who have been in a similar position.
The troubling American tradition dates all the way back to Eliza Hamilton ? wife of American founding father Alexander Hamilton ? who stood by her man after his infidelity was exposed in what is considered the first American sex scandal.
So the question becomes, what should Silda Wall Spitzer have done?
Amy Ephron of the Huffington Post fantasized about a reaction in these situations: ?I just want one of them ? Hillary, Silda ? to stand on the steps of the White House, the governor’s mansion, and stamp their foot and say, ?And another thing, I’m keeping the house.??
It may seem as if the most just reaction would be public vengeance. Why let a political consultant advise your best course of action in saving face for a man who has so publicly humiliated you? Why should any form of personal closure be relegated to the private sphere for the sake of a dishonest man?
Well, there are a number of reasons. Many women put in these situations have sons and daughters, and it may appear that the best course of damage control is to appear together in public as a family unit. There may also be a sense of behavioral duty and public dignity, desiring for a personal matter to be dealt with in private.
In reaction to the Spitzer scandal, Kathleen B. Jones, a professor emeritus of women’s studies at San Diego State University, commented to the Los Angeles Times, ??I am woman. Hear me rage.? That’s easy to write on a blog. ? But if I’m in that situation, do I really want to add to my humiliation in that very public moment? What choice does she have??
There is no correct reaction on the part of women who befall such situations, only incorrect action on the part of their husbands. But if it is an American norm to expect solidarity, to expect unity, then our public conscience needs refining.
Two weeks ago I wrote a column claiming Hillary Clinton?s success in the presidential race should not be prematurely proclaimed a symbol of true feminist progress. And it shouldn?t. There?s simply too far to go until substantive equality is realized for women in our country to simply rest on the laurels of one former first lady.
But maybe Hillary?s success deserves to be seen in a different light. Maybe Hillary?s is a story not just of female progress (as misleading as it may be), but of public resilience. Yes, Hillary was another in the regrettable history of wives standing beside mendacious politicians. But she is also the first to step out from behind the shadow of such humiliation to seek her own public success. In the truest sense, a unique and contemporary version of the American dream.
Silda Wall Spitzer is a Harvard-educated lawyer who, before giving up her professional life for her husband?s political career, was an extremely successful corporate lawyer. What a sight it would be to see Ms. Spitzer again behind a podium, but this time discussing her own candidacy, and this time, decidedly alone.
Andy Granias ([email protected]) is a junior majoring in political science and philosophy.