Trying to find balance in battle of sexes

Fred Khumalo: In these politically correct times, the act of breathing, let alone uttering a word, is fraught with danger.

Why are you, a member of the educated elite, breathing when the downtrodden, the disabled, the underprivileged can't breathe clean air? You are fulfilling your established paternalistic ways by raping the breathing space that should be the preserve of poor, downtrodden women.

If you call a female person a woman, you are undermining her because you are using a man as a reference point. When you are telling the story of what happened in the past, why do you call it history (his story)? That's a paternalistic analysis of what happened in the past.

I have heard these and many more ridiculous outpourings of the politically correct galleries. And, wait for this one, "These ladies are sheroes!" - Felicia Mabuza-Suttle's favourite.

The issue of political correctness is not something I concern myself with every day. It leaves me cold. But then I read a story of how young South African women were increasingly deferring childbirth so that they could focus on their careers, it got me thinking. The story told of how having children later in life often resulted in ovarian failure. Faced with this tragic situation, career-minded women are now forced to turn to fertility agencies to buy eggs so they can have children.

It was a touching story. Everyone had to have an opinion about it. I had one, but couldn't air it for fear of being buried under a mountain of unsavoury epithets: chauvinistic, sexist, paternalistic dinosaur, phallocentric bigot, etc.

I was therefore heartened when the first salvo in this war about reproductive rights was fired by a woman. Tebogo Brock wrote a letter which was published in this paper last week. "Biology and issues of fertility don't subscribe to women's lib, career-mindedness and political correctness. If women won't even make the initial sacrifice (a younger body at its strongest, most fertile time and most able to bear the rigours of pregnancy), how are they going to make those that parenthood demands later?" she asked.

I shall not attempt to offer an answer, nor even begin to analyse Brock's statement. Suffice it to say that it gave me courage to start musing on things that have been smouldering deep in my subconscious about the so-called balance of power between the sexes.

But Brock's comment was again brought into sharp focus by a discussion on a radio station on the same subject. While one agrees that it is an individual's right to decide to have or not have babies, and also that we are a population that is over-breeding, I was shocked by what came across as intolerance, and even hate, for children. The focus was on my career, my freedom, my flexibility - me, me, me!

This post-modernist take on everything from the balance of power between the sexes to the creation and meaning of family leaves me baffled. If you don't want children, why hate them?

I am wearing my helmet and have on my running shoes as I write this because I fully realise that I might step on some toes.

The other day we were sitting with the fellas talking about this and that, when somebody remarked that his son wanted to know why his sisters were benefiting from the increasingly popular campaign Take a Girl Child To Work when he wasn't being offered anything of the sort.

It was a simple question. But it provoked an animated debate, with some arguing that these interventions were, like BEE and affirmative action, necessary. The balance of power between the sexes was still tilted in favour men, therefore society had to encourage these interventions if some modicum of equality were to be realised. Fair enough.

For a moment, I thought I was listening to a debate between supporters of the ANC and those of AfriForum on BEE and affirmative action. Someone suggested that modern society was reducing men to eunuchs. Women have Women's Day, they have feminism and they have publishing houses or imprints (Oshun Books, Virago Publishers) dedicated to women.

They have literary prizes for women only - the Orange Prize for Fiction. They have women's organisations and they have advocacy groups such as Genderlinks, Sisonke, etc.

On the other hand, men do not have even masculinism, a male equivalent of feminism. Modern society wouldn't give that a nod. When men raise these issues, they are called sexist, chauvinistic, etc, and are sent scuttling to their corners of helplessness and anger. But when women raise issues in defence of their status or their rights, they are called assertive, strong-willed.

"Why," one brother wondered aloud, "these women even have specialised doctors, gynaecologists, and we don't have the male equivalent."

Oh, the brother was getting off the line, of course, but it was a funny point. The other brothers pointed out: "We do have urologists!"

"No," the brother was not to be defeated, "urologists are called only in an emergency. They are like plumbers. Women's visits to the gynae are regular. They are budgeted for. The husband or the boyfriend sometimes needs to contribute towards this monetarily. Imagine a man telling his partner, 'Darling, I need to go to a urologist and my medical aid is full. Can you help?' The girl responds, 'Have you been sleeping around? Why do you need to go to a urologist?'"

It was like a scene from John Irving's The Water Method Man as the guys suddenly got down to the nitty-gritty of analysing visits to the gynae.

"Women even compare notes," the brother said, "about their gynaecologists: 'Hhayi, my sista, angisamuzwa kahle uDr So and So (No, my sister, I am not feeling Dr So and So any more. Can you recommend someone?)'"

Imagine men, over a beer, talking about urologists. It would be unseemly.

But that is beside the point. The point here is that some men respond to gender equality in much the same way as AfriForum responds to affirmative action and BEE - sometimes dismissively, sometimes aggressively.

While these interventions are necessary to bring about a modicum of peaceful co-existence and equality between the two sides, society should take into consideration the sense of bitterness that some of these interventions tend to breed - and thus ironically engender fear and distrust, which were the root of the inequality in the first place.

Quite honestly, I don't know when we will reach the elusive balance of power, and who will decide that we have, indeed, reached that milestone. Until then, the battle lines are clearly drawn. That's why I am keeping my helmet on.