The Queen is not my feminist icon

Queen Elizabeth II passed away on September 8, 2022, at 96 years of age, and the world is divided into two parts. One half is grieving her death, giving her credit for the grit and strength she showed, the acumen that one would need to lead an empire, such as the British. The other half holds her accountable for being a blatant part of colonialism and an "active participant," at that. One Twitter user, @YaaAsantewaaBa, wrote, "She actively tried to stop independence movements and keep newly independent colonies from leaving the Commonwealth. The evil she did was enough."

I belong to the second half of the world population, which I am sure is clear from the title of my piece. And it is, may I add, necessary to spell this out, because I have been asked, "Is the Queen not a shining example of women empowerment?" While the definition of women empowerment might be lost on many, here are my main reasons for not treating Elizabeth as an icon, feminist or not.

First, as has been pointed out by many, there was never a formal apology from the British monarchy for the 200 years during which it colonised the global south, and built an empire out of it. The fact that the British empire has been built up on years of slave trade, looting wealth from Asia and Africa, and very literally building on human capital from these continents for their own benefit is reason enough to call out the system, as well as those who were part of it. Second, when a country that is by all means "first-world" still practises a system of monarchy, where the head of State is still a Queen, as opposed to an elected head (got to give credit to their old friend the US in this regard), I am too baffled to even write down my thoughts reasonably. 

In this day and age, not only are the British vehemently standing tall on an empire they built literally on the backs of other countries, they are also treated as "royalty," a concept so far removed from recent conversations on equality that the "progressive" West is known to uphold. After all, what is the Commonwealth if not a way of still being recognised for the countries the British colonised for years, and the power it still holds wrongfully?

To say that the Queen was not part of colonial history would be untrue; when Elizabeth was accused in 2020, that the royal honours medal is "highly offensive" and resembles the killing of George Floyd, she remained silent. Needless to say, the ill-treatment that Meghan Markle, her mixed-race granddaughter-in-law had to suffer from her and her family members, is largely known about and has also been spoken of by Markle herself, who at one point became suicidal. A 2021 article in The Guardian exposed Elizabeth and the continuous exemption she and the royal family have enjoyed over the years from race and discriminatory laws, as if they were above it. Also, when the family was asked to respond to the murder of George Floyd and the global Black Lives Matter movement, they did not. 

This brings me to the most important point of this piece: Is Elizabeth a feminist icon? I would have to go with a hard no. Feminism, as I understand it, is about treating everyone equally. Has she been able to do it? No. Feminism is about not only standing up for one's own rights, but for that of one's community and people, and uplifting the voices of the marginalised. Has she done it? No. On the contrary, she created history by snatching away the rights of people, marginalising them based on their race, while showing no regret in the process. 

Now, will I mourn her death? I, for one, would have, if she had done anything – taken even the tiniest step – to break the years of whitewashed history that her empire has built and thrived on, had she played a small part in addressing racism or had she owned up to the misdeeds of her family and her part in it. 

Am I in awe of the woman who is the longest British monarch? No, because that to me is an outdated way of forcing oneself into power, and remaining etched to their thrones – the throne that needs to be removed, putting entire histories of colonialism to rest.

No, I do not feel any kind of joy at the death of anyone, no matter how cruel and ruthless they have been, and how they have made millions suffer by their strategies of divide and rule. I only call out what I see in front of me, and would much rather spend three days in mourning for the lives lost every day in war, apartheid, and violence. Because that is what a feminist does: value each life equally, irrespective of colour, nationality, age, or sex.

Syeda Samara Mortada is a feminist activist and a coordinator at Bonhishkha, a feminist organisation working to un-learn gender and create a platform for youth to share their gender-based experiences.