Suffrage, but not for me

Gertrude Bell was one of the most successful women of her age. So why didn’t she want the vote?
October 21, 2009

How many firsts does a woman need to feel she has achieved success in a man’s world? For Gertrude Bell the answer was as many as possible. She was the first woman to be awarded a degree at Oxford, the first to work for British military intelligence, and also the first to write a government white paper. And she became one of the world’s leading Arabists, instrumental in the creation of Iraq, for which she was later awarded a CBE. Not bad going.

Bell was born in 1868 to a wealthy county Durham family; her father made his money from the iron industry. This background bought a good education: first privately until 16, then a spell at boarding school in London, and then on to Lady Margaret Hall, Oxford. Afterwards she went “into society,” although with too sharp an intelligence to attract suitors looking for a decorative wife.



And through her involvement in the Liberal party it was perhaps no surprise that Bell—one of the most educated, successful women of her time—became involved in one of the age’s hot issues: women’s suffrage. What was a surprise, however, was the side she took.

Even with a woman on the throne, Victorian society still placed women alongside criminals and the insane, none of whom were allowed to vote. But there was a groundswell for change led by women such as Millicent Fawcett, president of the National Union of Women’s Suffrage Societies, and Emmeline Pankhurst and her daughters, Sylvia and Christabel, who formed the Women’s Social and Political Union (WSPU) in 1903; the latter’s suffragettes were prepared to take direct action for their cause.

At the time, many of Bell’s well-heeled female contemporaries were signing up for votes for women; one close confidante, the American actress Elizabeth Robins, was even on the executive of the WSPU. But Bell decided to become president of the northern branch of the National League for Opposing Women’s Suffrage instead. Why would such an intelligent, courageous, successful woman be against giving women the vote?

Family background was part of the reason: her parents were both hostile to the idea. Political opinion was divided on the issue, too. Winston Churchill, a young Liberal, was opposed, while the Conservative Arthur Balfour was for. The Liberals, who Bell supported, feared that an influx of votes from wealthy women would favour their opponents.

Bell also agreed with many in the anti-suffrage movement that the uneducated should not be involved in politics, no matter their sex. And she expressed worries (shared by many) that votes for women were against the natural order: politics would survive without women, but the home would be in danger if they left. Bell even argued that as most distinguished men had clever mothers, giving the franchise to women might mean less bright women becoming mothers, thereby robbing society of important male figures.

But perhaps the most important reason came from the belief, rooted in her own personal success, that women were capable of achieving as much as men—even without the vote. Bell, in common with many successful woman at the time, simply saw no connection between holding liberal views and supporting votes for women. To this extent, at least, she was surely in denial about the extent to which her wealthy family background helped her education and her travels.

But she was never interested in the idea of collective achievement; her life’s purpose was to strive for individual success, which would, in turn, bring personal liberty. And she believed—like many men of the time—that getting involved in the interests of Britain in the wider world was just as, if not more, important than the political struggle at home.

It is perhaps no accident that her future lay in an even more male-dominated culture, but one where she could—by virtue of her wealth, knowledge and linguistic skill—be truly independent, away from her parents and British social expectations. But, just as later this astonishing woman underestimated the power of Arabic tribalism to thwart Britain’s influence in the middle east, so she also underestimated the power of women in Britain joining together to bring about change.

In May 1911, the House of Commons began seriously discussing the issue of female suffrage and, towards the end of the first world war, in June 1917, women were finally given the vote.

Over time, even Bell’s views softened. In Iraq she encouraged education for women, even setting up women’s clubs. And so the author Vita Sackville-West, visiting her in 1925, was finally able to report back: “In Iraq she welcomed the move for women’s emancipation… even a pro-Arab imperialist as she was had become capable of writing—‘upon my soul, I think I would vote Labour if I were in England.’ ” Perhaps it should come as no surprise, then, that in the end she changed her mind.