“They say we’re doing unbelievable with men … Men like me. They say women don’t,” Donald Trump told a crowd of Michigan voters at a rally last Friday.
From the moment Kamala Harris landed at the top of the Democratic ticket, gender has been front and centre in the US presidential race. Some have gone so far as to describe the 2024 election as a “battle of the sexes”. And there’s some truth to this glib characterisation.
Last week, Kamala Harris joined forces with prominent female surrogates, from former Republican representative Liz Cheney to former first lady Michelle Obama, while Donald Trump continues to court the “bro vote” in a bid to inspire disengaged young men to head to the ballot box on election day.
Holding on to her current 14-point lead in the polls among women may be what ultimately spells victory for Vice President Kamala Harris.
Holding on to her current 14-point lead in the polls among women may be what ultimately spells victory for Vice President Kamala Harris.
Though Australians may be inclined to watch the tides of US politics with fascinated detachment, our voting population is by no means immune to these widening political divides driven by gender. And it is attitudes to the US itself where these differences are most stark.
Even if Kamala Harris becomes the first woman to sit behind the desk of the Oval Office, Australian women’s support for the Australia-US alliance is neither firm nor assured.
United States Studies Centre polling finds concerning gender gaps in public opinion of Australia’s alliance with the United States. While a majority of Australian men view America as a force for good in our region, women appear less convinced – just a quarter hold a positive view of the US role in Asia. Other polls come to the same conclusion, with the Lowy Institute annual poll finding an almost 10-point difference in feelings of warmth towards the United States between Australian men and women.
And when it comes to signature alliance initiatives such as AUKUS, the gender divide becomes a chasm. Women trail men in their support of the trilateral defence partnership by a stunning 22 points. They also voice more uncertainty about the pact; women are three times as likely as men to say they are unsure about the wisdom of Australia’s decision to acquire nuclear-powered submarines – the hallmark effort of the partnership.
Women’s anxieties about our US ally are especially pronounced this election year. Mirroring the gender gap in the US on the presidential candidates, a majority of Australian women are concerned about the impact a second Trump presidency could have on Australia. If he wins re-election, Australian women are twice as likely as their male counterparts to consider withdrawing from the US alliance.
These stark differences in opinion aren’t new – or even surprising, when women are so sparsely represented among the champions of the US relationship. In 2018, then-US ambassador Joe Hockey had to apologise for a deeply unpopular “mateship campaign” that elevated 15 faces of the bilateral relationship. All 15 “patrons of mateship” were white men.
AUKUS appears doomed to repeat the same mistake. As it stands, neither the messengers nor the message of the AUKUS partnership are adequately geared to appeal to half of Australia’s population.
The agreement evolved from a secretive deal between three male heads of state. And since its announcement in September 2021, AUKUS has secured few high-profile female champions. Three years later, its most vocal Australian proponents, the prime minister, defence and defence industry ministers and the head of the submarine agency, are all men.
Beyond the messengers, Australian politicians’ pitch for AUKUS is often framed as a job creation effort. Yet, this promise primarily rests in Australia’s manufacturing, STEM and engineering industries – all workforces where female participation sits below a third.
When it comes to broader views of the United States, Australian women’s attitudes can’t be divorced from the debate over reproductive rights that has played out across the US. The fallout from the reversal of Roe v Wade has no doubt fuelled anxiety among Australian women that US rhetoric could be transplanted into Australia’s political culture.
In 2022, then-Australian prime minister Scott Morrison cautioned against Australia mirroring the US by centring the issue of abortion in the national political conversation, warning: “I don’t want to see the disruptive, divisive debate that we’ve seen over decades and decade and decades [in the US] take place here in Australia.”
Yet, reproductive rights commanding headlines in the dying minutes of the recent Queensland state elections only illuminates how the future of women’s reproductive rights in Australia is far from guaranteed.
On November 5, Americans will cast their ballots in an election that stands to be the most polarised along gender lines in modern US history. But intensifying political divides between men and women are not a concern that can be dusted off alongside a campaign strategy manual in the weeks before election day, then set aside.
Whether Trump or Harris returns to the White House, the future of Australia’s US alliance will remain on unsteady ground if our leaders fail to inspire the confidence of half the population.