Anne Sinclair’s power, intelligence and beauty have been widely acknowledged. Her reputation for being very well prepared and researching her subject matter with meticulous attention to detail, has been admired by her colleagues. Her razor-sharp skill and commanding presence came in handy when she had to conduct impromptu interviews.
The woman who self-identified as a feminist and worked for decades as a powerful political journalist, is charismatic. Sinclair is more powerful and wealthier than her husband, Dominique Strauss-Kahn (DSK), the former International Monetary Fund (IMF) chief who was the centre of controversial charges of the sexual assault of a hotel chamber maid.
DSK has been linked to a slew of sexual indiscretions and scandals. But Sinclair has stood by him.
Hers has not been the silent support of a loyal wife. She has fought hard to have him cleared of all charges, insinuations and allegations, including allegations of financial misconduct when DSK was Minister of Finance.
Her family wealth and connections have often afforded her effective interventions.
Her grandfather, Paul Rosenberg, who fled from France to escape the Nazis, was the art dealer of Pablo Picasso and Henri Matisse, among others. Sinclair invested heavily in DSK’s political ambitions, contributing substantial money to his campaign and sacrificing her own career along the line.
She has fought “tooth and nail”, a phrase she used in 1996 when DSK faced other allegations of sexual misconduct.
Today, she continues to fight tooth and nail and on all fronts. The allegations of sexual assault first surfaced in May, when Sinclair was in France awaiting the birth of her grandchild.
The public was still digesting the news when Sinclair pronounced on the matter, issuing a brief but punchy statement in support of her husband.
Her words, no doubt carefully chosen, were meant to go beyond an expression of her loyalty to her husband. She implicitly raised questions about the woman who had laid charges against DSK.
“I do not doubt for a second that my husband did not do it. His innocence will be proven.”
She did not say, “This is difficult for us as a family. We will ride this storm together, whatever the future holds.”
That would not have served a purpose. Sinclair’s strategy has always been to support her man but, simultaneously, to undermine the women implicated (whether by choice or not).
As far back as 2006 when she was on the campaign trail and DSK’s sexual frolics surfaced, Sinclair’s words were deliberately selected.
She said she was “rather proud of his reputation”, and added: “It is important for a politician to be able to seduce.”
She may have intended it to come across as the statement of a secure woman who is aware of her power, her sensuality and sexuality, and who is comfortable in her own skin. However, in brushing the allegations aside, she chose to elevate her husband as a “politician” whose seductive behaviour was important.
These words seem to have aimed at minimising the embarrassing and probably painful behaviour of her husband. She referred to his conduct in a way that validated DSK and negated others. There was a clear message to the women who were rumoured to have had sexual liaisons with DSK, namely: “He is a politician and seduction is part of his game. You have fallen for it.”
What others saw as someone who was “a serial philanderer and unable to commit to fidelity”, she called seduction – an important quality in a politician.
In 2008 DSK faced yet another scandal of sexual liaison with a junior colleague who hastily resigned, and who was paid handsomely by the IMF following her resignation.
In a statement released at the time, Sinclair’s signature style was apparent. She reminded the public that the IMF started an internal enquiry and they hoped the matter would be finalised within a reasonable time.
Then came the punch “… that one night stand matter is well behind us now, we have moved on…” and, as an apparent afterthought she declared, “May I add that we love each other very much now, like the first time…”
As we watch the unfolding saga of DSK, uncomfortable and complex questions arise about the role of women who are married to powerful men.
We observe Sinclair’s behaviour and choices, not because we want to dictate how she should deal with her marriage.
But her strategy of defending herself, family and husband is at the expense of the dignity of others. This goes beyond the “French power couple” and speaks to experiences and choices of many women across the globe. What drives them to such lengths?
For two decades now, there have been reports of Sinclair’s loneliness. As far back as 1997, she is said to have confided to a friend during the campaign, “I must accompany him, otherwise I’ll never see him.” What anxiety lay behind that statement is anybody’s guess. Her declarations notwithstanding, Sinclair has not been able to effectively hide her insecurity.
Despite all the sacrifices she has made, at 62 she is still fighting “tooth and nail” to protect her husband. In short DSK continues to demand more from her. Oh yes, he loves her in his own way.
He even blew her a kiss during his recent court appearance for alleged sexual assault.
She pressed her palm to her lips and sent him a kiss back. It seems nowadays she expresses her power almost always in defence of DSK. Viewed from this angle, her loyalty makes sense. If she leaves him now what does that say about all those years she has spent fighting fires?
France, after all, is a deeply patriarchal society, despite its libertarian image. Anne Sinclair faces the dilemma confronted by many women in their marriages world over. Marriage – many feminists have written for a long time – is shaped, contoured and conditioned by corrosive patriarchal culture and practices.
Sinclair joins a legion of other powerful women who have made similar choices. Women who are successful in public life: politicians, academics, professionals and activists, are often weighed against the other role – are they able to build successful marriages? Will they bear children? Will they be sensitive enough to ensure that their success does not threaten their husbands? Can they swing public opinion when their husband’s political stars are waning? Many seem to find some balance by living independently and claiming their own independent identity. For others, that balance is effectively an erasure of their power and agency.
Many stick with their narcissistic and patriarchal husbands because at some level, it also feeds their egos.
But one suspects it is much more complicated than that. They stay with their husbands despite the humiliation and negation of themselves because perhaps the other route is too ghastly to contemplate. Some stay because they are too ashamed.
Some stay out of fear and insecurity. Others, perhaps choosing their vows and commitment above all, stay. Some stay, despite the harm to themselves and their children.
The tragedy of Rosario Murillo, the wife of Daniel Ortega who led the attack against her daughter Zoilamerica in 1998, is a stark reminder of the cost of these choices.
Long before Zoilamerica spoke of the incest which was alleged to have started when she was 11 and stopped in her twenties, those connected to the FSLN in Nicaragua spoke of Ortega’s sexual abuse of his step-daughter as an open secret. So open it was like many of Ortega’s other indiscretions.
Murillo, a poet and powerful activist in her day, had long changed roles. Now she was the wife of Daniel Ortega, whose name she had to defend, even against her own daughter.
Ortega and Murillo reconnected with their long-abandoned Catholicism and consolidated their political interests.
Ortega is back in power. Many have been left wounded along the way. Zoilamerica Narvaez Murillo is among them.
Today we watch the tragedy of Anne Sinclair, not out of voyeurism, but because her contradictions remind us of our own.
The court will pronounce on the guilt or innocence of DSK. But the complexity of this union belongs to the realm of everyday life – it is so familiar it frightens us. Of course, our locations differentiate and mitigate or exacerbate our experiences.
Feminists urge us all the time to avoid generalisations and to shun essentialism.
At the core of these power marriages we may find complex experiences which are no different from those of many other women (and men). Gilded cages can be prisons, even when one holds the key. Sometimes, it takes a lifetime for the mind to connect the key to its hole in the door. - Sunday Independent
* Nomboniso Gasa is a researcher and analyst on gender, politics and cultural issues