As a consequence, you don’t much hear the concepts of “big woman” or “big shot woman” applied in any research pertaining to government and politics in PNG. But these ideas do occasionally come up in conversational terms among everyday citizens in reference to the emergence of a new class of female figures. The late Janet Sape was one such example, a successful businesswoman and a onetime political candidate. So when embarking on postgraduate research into women in PNG politics – and inspired by previous ethnographic work by anthropologist Keir Martin in his book The Death of the Big Men and the Rise of the Big Shots – I decided to incorporate these terms to compare women and men in local politics.
What is already known is that although some women have contested in the past nine elections, they have faced massive gender inequality, whether through cultural constructs or other structural factors such as a biased appointment system favouring “big men”. Campaign support for women is patchy to say the least. Women in rural areas especially have to contend with strong patriarchal values in the community, rendering them “invisible”. Men across the country have a significantly higher literacy rate than women according to UNESCO estimates, and gender-based violence continues to be a problem everywhere. These factors tend to push women to the periphery, consequently placing the onus of leadership on men.
There is also a lack of broad support for special measures to increase the chances for women in politics. One former female MP, Dame Josephine Abaijah, warned the proposal for reserved seats for women would create a “second-class in parliament” and that “women must stand against men”. In her view, if she was about to win, other women could and should too. “This is politics,” she said. “In politics, the people decide, not parliament.”
But such sentiment appears to set in train a continuation of what has been the same “big man” experience dominating politics in the country for its nearly 50 years of independence. Measures that attempt to ensure women have the opportunity to fairly compete are presently weak. For instance, the PNG National Council of Women (NCW) – an institution created under the Department of Community Development and Religion to drive awareness and mobilise women’s voices – struggled to establish itself during the first decades following independence due to funding limitations, poor coordination and lack of political will to ensure its success.
Regionally, the trend appears similar. Politics across many Pacific Island countries is male biased.
Interestingly, a recent study by the Pacific Private Sector Development Initiative (PPSDI) found that women’s representation in business leadership in the Pacific compared favourably with global averages – as the report put it, “the business community in the Pacific offers greater opportunities for women to take on leadership roles than the political sphere”.
However, the findings for PNG in particular were less encouraging. The report found that the number of women holding board seats, board chair positions, and CEO positions was lower than the regional average, and mostly below the global standards. It was a reminder that women’s representation in PNG overall is poor, not only in politics and business, but across both the formal and informal sectors.
Women will continue to remain unrepresented if drastic measures are not forthcoming.
Teddy Winn