There is a false narrative in the feminist community that lesbian separatism is escapist. There are legitimate criticisms–utopianism, rigidity, alienation–but the belief that lesbian separatism is escapism, running away into the bush, leaving the rest of womankind behind to fend for themselves against patriarchy, seems to stick the most.
Lesbian separatism is meaningful lesbian-centred action. It addresses lesbians’ unique needs as homosexual women in a heteropatriarchal society, fostering a sense of belonging, connection, and safety. It is a political act of defiance under a culture that oppresses, denigrates, and invisibilises lesbians for our innate, natural sexual orientation and dissuades us from creating a culture of our own.
Contemporary lesbians argue lesbian separatism involves a variety of approaches and levels of commitment. Marilyn Frye’s 1978 paper, Some Reflections on Separatism and Power, defines lesbian separatism as a continuum of actions, including:
This continuum, or stepping-stone process, provides the necessary flexibility for lesbians to vary our level of commitment based on our unique circumstances. When lesbian separatism is inflexible, it results in alienation, ostracism, and fracturing of the community.
Most lesbians belong to other marginalised communities. Our ethnicity, disability and income, for example, can mean extra hardship. Lesbians have, and continue to, work with men on necessary activism.
Conversely, as the Cambridge Dictionary defines, escapism is ‘the activity of avoiding reality by imagining exciting but impossible activities.’ Lesbian separatism does not avoid reality (as if reality is the world of men). It actively challenges heteropatriarchy by creating a lesbian-centred culture that allows us to grow and heal.
Where did the escapism narrative begin?
The notion lesbian separatism is escapist comes from a shallow understanding of lesbian history. Lesbian separatism has existed across the globe and back to Sappho. However, arguably, the most well-known examples occurred during the activist fervour of the 1960s-’80s.
A major influence on lesbian separatism was the Radicalesbians’ 1970 paper, The Woman Identified Woman. The paper implies lesbians are figures to aspire to, as lesbians can liberate themselves and truly love themselves due to our inherent conflict with feminine gender roles. They argue:
For in this sexist society, for a woman to be independent means she can’t be a woman – she must be a dyke. … For a lesbian is not considered a “real woman.” And yet, in popular thinking, there is really only one essential difference between a lesbian and other women: that of sexual orientation – which is to say, when you strip off all the packaging, you must finally realize that the essence of being a “woman” is to get fucked by men.
The Woman Identified Woman, p. 2.
Radicalesbians demonstrate the necessity to challenge and deny heteropatriarchal definitions by creating a lesbian-centred culture, which can be accomplished through lesbian separatism. However, lesbianism is the unique experience of being both female and homosexual. The Radicalesbians’ theorising of sexuality is problematic, arguing sexual structures (labels) created under patriarchy are detrimental and:
In a society in which men do not oppress women, and sexual expression is allowed to follow feelings, the categories of homosexuality and heterosexuality would disappear.
The Woman Identified Woman, p. 1.
Lesbian theoretical writing at the time included similar sentiments. However, I argue that even in a world without oppression, lesbians need to retain our identity, reality and its definition, for connection, understanding, and remembrance. Despite the Radicalesbians’ position, it does not detract from the inspiration they provided to lesbians seeking visibility and belonging.
In 1970, several members of the Radicalesbians formed The Furies Collective: white lesbians from lower- and middle-class backgrounds who lived communally. Days involved consciousness-raising discussions, attempting to rid themselves of heteropatriarchal conditioning; running their newspaper of the same name, a childcare centre, and a training school for self-defence; car maintenance and home repair for lesbians to develop a sense of independence and safety.
Several other movements inspired lesbian separatists at the time. In the United States, involvement in the Civil Rights Movement, protests against the war in Vietnam, and the New Left in the 1960s provided lesbians with beneficial skills and knowledge about social change, anti-authoritarianism, solidarity, and political actions, including how reformism fails to address the roots of oppression. From Gay Liberation (including CAMP in Australia), lesbian separatists learned the benefit of “coming out” as a political tactic, making lesbianism visible.
Black separatists from the Black Power Movement inspired lesbians who learned and developed skills from their involvement in anti-racist actions, applying it to the lesbian experience. In her 1976 essay, The Issue is Woman Identification, Margaret Sloan-Hunter emphasised Black Power’s need to turn energy inward, developing ‘psychic survival’ and healing the wounds caused by racism (p. 147-48). Separatism is an acknowledgement of difference. Addressing the specific needs of an oppressed group–to heal and survive–is not escapism.
The back-to-the-land and Peace movements inspired Australian lesbians. Back-to-the-land involved a romanticised version of rural living, away from the toxicity of urban spaces. Some lesbian separatists argued it was harder to remove oneself from heteropatriarchy in urban spaces, envisioning rural living as a sustainable way to encourage lesbian self-sufficiency, independence, and self-esteem. International Peace camps and protests, including Greenham Common, Pine Gap, and Cockburn Sound, provided lesbians with a sense of safety, independence, self-sufficiency, and a commitment to non-violence which they brought to lesbian separatist spaces.
Criticisms of lesbian separatism
As an end goal, rather than a continuum, lesbian separatism is utopianist. In lesbian literature, both fiction and non-fiction, lesbian-only spaces are often depicted as a rural idyll, futuristic haven, or refuge from the oppressive patriarchal culture in which lesbians can come together and accomplish anything. However, the reality of achieving it means lesbians may make sacrifices, some of which are immensely difficult.
At the furthest end of the continuum, when it’s positioned as an end goal or best practice, lesbian separatism restricts alliances with other forms of marginalisation. The Combahee River Collective argued in their 1977 paper, A Black Feminist Statement, that it is difficult for Black women to separate race, class, and sex in their lives, so they cannot fractionalise themselves to separate from Black men. Similarly, Wendy Holland, an indigenous Australian lesbian feminist, argued the importance of not separating Aboriginal communities, and working together instead. The goal of centring lesbians can lead to a privileging of the (white) lesbian experience, ignoring differences and further intersections of oppression.
Despite the struggle, lesbians of colour carved out separatist spaces for themselves, both mixed-race and exclusively for Black/Blak lesbians or lesbians of colour, including the Maat Dompim Womyn of Color Land Project. This demonstrates the value of lesbian separatism while highlighting the importance of acknowledging differences for political solidarity.
Historically, lesbian mothers of boy children who wanted to reside in strictly lesbian-only spaces faced criticism and sometimes exclusion. The lesbian separatists who denied access to boys argued such spaces were the few that did not permit males at all. To them, it was important to maintain spaces and living situations where lesbians of all ages developed a sense of self outside of heteropatriarchy, including away from the class that benefits from it. They emphasised the risk of oppression, harassment, and violence at the hands of boys against girls. Conversely, other lesbians argued boys were neither a threat nor a negative influence on lesbian culture and could benefit from it.
The “lesbian separatism is escapist” argument often comes from, and probably originated in, non-lesbians who claim lesbians have little empathy for the difficulties faced when male-attracted women separate from men. Many heterosexual feminists argue that female separatism–which is for all women, as opposed to lesbian separatism which is for female homosexuals–would leave them dissatisfied and lonely due to their sexuality.
Lesbian separatism is made by and for lesbians. Although non-lesbians can be inspired by lesbian separatism, it is unreasonable to call it escapist for failing to accommodate non-lesbian needs. The “escapist” argument focuses on the furthest end of the continuum, living rurally without any interaction with men. For lesbians, extreme oppression can result in seemingly extreme solutions, allowing us to take the necessary steps to survive heteropatriarchy. It does not mean all women need to or should necessarily follow suit.
The “escapist” argument ignores the varied spaces created to address lesbian needs which often also have a run-off benefit to all women, regardless of sexuality. Women-centred bookstores, bars, cafes, record labels, presses, dances and festivals provide women opportunities to experience a culture outside of heteropatriarchy without requiring them to leave men. In addition, the argument ignores the fact that lesbians who create such spaces often participate in other forms of feminist activism, including protests, educational programs, refuges, and health centres.
Lesbians need to know our history and culture, which are constantly diminished and rendered invisible. There is room for genuine critique of lesbian separatism. However, the “lesbian separatism is escapist” argument perpetuates a harmful narrative; it ignores the reality of lesbian resistance to heteropatriarchy and claims lesbians do not deserve spaces of our own.
*This post was made in collaboration between Ava and AJ from Lesbian Herstory
