My research on the role of Nonhuman Animals in pagan thealogy finds winter solstice, or Yule, a conflicting time for other animals. Following the mass sacrifices of Samhain,[i] the winter solstice season is comparatively dormant agriculturally speaking. As a time of relative scarcity, however, this would have created great difficulty and persecution for Nonhuman Animals who would be the most vulnerable to dwindling food supplies and harsh weather. Sadly, solstice time often encouraged one final burst of sacrificial activity.
In Europe, a number of stone henges have been constructed to align with this solstice, including the famous Stonehenge and Avebury sites in Southern England. To attract thousands to the region, the winter solstice was celebrated in prehistory with several days of feasting. Although these spaces can be psychically powerful for modern visitors who feel a connection across the millennia to ancestors who organized their lives around the celestial, these are highly sterilized spaces today. When in use, they would have been sites of incredible violence against Nonhuman Animals. Thousands of Nonhuman Animal skeletons have been found at Stonehenge and Avebury, especially those of pigs, who appear to have been marched to the sites from afar and ritually slaughtered for the festivities (Madgwick et al. 2019).
Today, many winter solstice traditions are less harmful to other animals as observers are more inclined to mull wine and decorate the yule tree (Cunningham 2007). Wassailing, an old English practice of blessing “livestock,” pastures, orchards, and other agricultural spaces, has been revitalized in recent years and has the potential to celebrate a positive relationship with nature and other animals. It must be considered, however, that wassailing is not typically engaged for the benefit of those being blessed, but rather for those who are doing the blessing given its purpose of increasing agricultural fertility. Vegan wassailing could be adopted to alter this narrative, blessing imprisoned Nonhuman Animals in hopes for their consequent liberation or blessing animals residing at sanctuaries to symbolically support their continued healing.
Indeed, winter solstice is a time for contemplating the return of the light and would also suit the contemplation of peace on earth, particularly given its correspondence to holy days of peace across the world. Yule is also deep in the “womb time” of the Wiccan calendar, making it a point of feminist reflection as well. Kitchen witch Sarah Robinson (2022) notes this might be a time for witches to convene for celebration, and, indeed, from a vegan perspective, this might also be a day for acknowledging the feminized labour exploited from other animals and celebrating cows, chickens, and other nonhuman mothers.[ii]
Winter solstice initiates a time of feminist observance culminating in the Wiccan holiday of Imbolc (known as St. Bridget’s day in Ireland, Groundhog’s Day in the United States, and Candlemas in other Catholic regions) at the end of January. For witches and Wiccans, solstice and Imbolc celebrate the burgeoning rejuvenation of humans, other animals, and nature. Z Budapest describes her coven’s winter solstice celebration as including a “period of humming that builds up to a birth scream,” a ritual reminds participants that “we are reborn along with Lucina”[iii] (1986: 74). Her coven has similarly adapted other sabbats to feminist interests.
As the Yule season slides into Imbolc, a period often used for Wiccan initiation, Budapest marks this period as a reawakening of women’s knowledge and wisdom. Here, women figuratively come into the light, resisting patriarchal attempts to block women from education and enlightenment. A vegan witchcraft might honour these months of darkness by resting, revisiting feminist theory, and supporting free-living animals who, in the Northern Hemisphere, will be tried by the hardships of winter. Supporting life in a season that has historically served as an occasion for death is a revolutionary act.
[i] Samhain marks the third harvest festival of the agricultural year, today known as Halloween.
[ii] Much of the merrymaking of the Yule season has only been possible with the invisible preparatory labour of women. In Ireland, Nollaig na mBan (“Christmas for women”) is still celebrated two weeks after Christmas, allowing women a day of respite from the exhausting work of carrying the festivities for their families and community.
[iii] A reference to Diana, goddess of childbirth.
References Budapest, Z. 1986. The Holy Book of Women’s Mysteries. Oakland: Consolidated Printers. Cunningham, S. 2007. Cunningham’s Encyclopaedia of Wicca in the Kitchen. Woodbury: Llewellyn Publications. Madgwick, R., A. Lamb, H. Sloane, A. Nederbragt, U. Albarella, M. Pearson, and J. Evans. 2019. “Multi-isotope Analysis Reveals that Feasts in the Stonehenge Environs and Across Wessex Drew People and Animals from Throughout Britain.” Science Advances 5 (3): eaau6078. Robinson, S. 2022. Kitchen Witch. Shanagarry: Womancraft Publishing.
Dr. Wrenn is Senior Lecturer in Sociology at the University of Kent. She received her Ph.D. in Sociology with Colorado State University in 2016. She was awarded Exemplary Diversity Scholar, 2016 by the University of Michigan’s National Center for Institutional Diversity. She served as council member with the American Sociological Association’s Animals & Society section (2013-2016) and was elected Chair in 2018. She is the co-founder of the International Association of Vegan Sociologists. She serves as Book Review Editor to Society & Animals and is a member of the Research Advisory Council of The Vegan Society. She has contributed to the Human-Animal Studies Images and Cinema blogs for the Animals and Society Institute and has been published in several peer-reviewed academic journals including the Journal of Gender Studies, Environmental Values, Feminist Media Studies, Disability & Society, Food, Culture & Society, and Society & Animals. In July 2013, she founded the Vegan Feminist Network, an academic-activist project engaging intersectional social justice praxis.
Formed in the early 1980s, Feminists for Animal Rights (FAR)1 was typical of radical feminism in the latter half of the 20th century, embracing lesbianism in a larger social justice space (the Nonhuman Animal rights movement included) that more or less adopted a “don’t ask don’t tell” that approach. Founder Marti Kheel openly identified as gay and gender “deviant” (Kheel 1998: no page), and FAR participated in LGBT+ events from its beginning.
In its first year of official operation, FAR participated in the San Francisco International Lesbian/Gay Freedom Day, its table ironically placed next to a “burger” stand. FAR also marched in the Boston Gay Pride Parade with its banner as well as signs that read “Extend the Circle of Compassion: Go Vegetarian,” “Subvert the Dominant Paradigm,” and “Vegetarians Taste Better.” The latter was apparently the “crowd favorite” (Solomon and Stone 1999: 10). Regular engagement is listed throughout the twenty years of FAR’s newsletter publication, including attendance at the East Bay Lesbian and Gay Celebration and the Lesbian Empowerment Conference in Florida.
The Georgia Lesbian Ecofeminists, a branch of FAR, explains the centrality of this intersectional thought to the vegan feminist approach:
When the group formed we decided to call ourselves Ecofeminists because the term underscored for us the connection between feminism, animal liberation, and ecology. We also chose to include Lesbian in our name because most (but not all) of us are lesbians, and we see our visibility as lesbians as a political issue. We also identify the oppression we face as women and homosexuals as intricately related to the exploitation of animals and the earth by the same patriarchal mentality
(Georgia Lesbian Ecofeminists 1991: 4)
One FAR article, “‘So, What Do You Eat’ and ‘What Do You Do (In Bed)?’,” draws connections between veganism and lesbianism in how they are marginalized and how their personal relationship with their own body is scrutinized:
What do I eat? Anything I want, as long as it tastes good, is nutritious, is accepted by my body, and does not directly harm, or indirectly support harm, to any other creature on the planet. What do I do (in bed)? Anything I want that feels good, with or without a partner, is accepted by my body, and does not perpetuate hetero-patriarchal structures or beliefs.
(Post 1993: 13)
The connections were not always apparent. FAR members were regularly frustrated by the intersectional failure between anti-speciesism and gay rights. FAR organizer Batya Bauman (1990) notes, for instance, the regular occurrence of individuals claiming to be “animal lovers” in singles classifieds in popular lesbian magazines that also mention personal interests that include “fishing” and eating “meat.” FAR (1984) took issue with the “Gay Rodeo” as well, distributing protest literature on the event and sending letters of complaint to the gay publication, Coming Up.
Likewise, FAR was adamantly opposed to AIDS research conducted on Nonhuman Animals, insisting that all progress in AIDS research had been achieved through nonanimal experiments (Todd 1991-1992). Kheel reiterated this value, insisting that the “best cure lies in prevention,” as animal-based testing is “morally bankrupt” and “scientifically invalid” with high failure rates and unintended side effects (1984: 4). “As a gay person,” she continues, “I sincerely hope that the gay community will question the type of research being done on their behalf and condemn all research that inflicts pain and suffering on innocent beings.” (4).
It would not be until the 2010s and 2020s that the professionalized Nonhuman Animal rights movement began to openly acknowledge and respond to sex and gender diversity and queer vegan theory established itself in scholar activism. These developments in visibility may reflect the larger successes of the gay rights movement, but it should be clear that the thoughts and actions of vegan feminists were aligned with these issues for many decades prior. Although third wave vegan feminism is often presented as an important countervoice to heteronormative feminist theory of the 20th century, the truth is that vegan feminists of that era were also explicitly engaged in queer activism, recognizing and responding to important intersections (and intersectional failures).
Notes
Although FAR was perhaps the most well known (or at least well remembered) of the lesbian-inclusive vegan feminists groups, it was certainly not the only one. In Britain, for instance, Lesbians for Animals’ Irreducible Rights surfaced in the late 1970s, bringing speciesism (vivisection, in particular) to the attention of the gay community through publications, leaflets, and participation in rallies (Adams and Gruen 2022).
References
Adams, C. and L. Gruen. 2022. “Ecofeminist Footsteps.” Pp. 1-43, Ecofeminism, C. Adams and L. Gruen (Eds.). London: Bloomsbury.
Bauman, B. 1990. “What is Loving Animals All About?.” Feminists for Animal Rights Newsletter 5 (3-4): 1.
Feminists for Animal Rights 1984c. “Gay Rodeo—A Sad Event.” Feminists for Animal Rights Newsletter 1 (1): 3.
Georgia Lesbian Ecofeminists. 1991. “Georgia Lesbian Ecofeminists.” Feminists for Animal Rights Newsletter 6 (1-2): 4.
Kheel, M. 1984. “The Monkey Business Behind AIDS Research.” Feminists for Animal Rights Newsletter 1 (2): 4.
——. 1998. Untitled talk. Papers of Marti Kheel. Schlesinger Library, Radcliffe Institute. Archive item sch01622c00397—MC962_4.17.
Post, L. 1993. “‘So, What Do You Eat’ and ‘What Do You Do (In Bed)?’.” Feminists for Animal Rights Newsletter 7 (3-4): 13.
Solomon, S. and R. Stone. 1999. “Taking Action in Boston.” Feminists for Animal Rights Newsletter 11 (1-2): 10.
Todd, B. 1991-1992. “AIDS & Animal Research: False Hope, Wasted Lives.” Feminists for Animal Rights Newsletter 6 (3-4): 1-9.
Dr. Wrenn is Senior Lecturer in Sociology at the University of Kent. She received her Ph.D. in Sociology with Colorado State University in 2016. She was awarded Exemplary Diversity Scholar, 2016 by the University of Michigan’s National Center for Institutional Diversity. She served as council member with the American Sociological Association’s Animals & Society section (2013-2016) and was elected Chair in 2018. She is the co-founder of the International Association of Vegan Sociologists. She serves as Book Review Editor to Society & Animals and is a member of the Research Advisory Council of The Vegan Society. She has contributed to the Human-Animal Studies Images and Cinema blogs for the Animals and Society Institute and has been published in several peer-reviewed academic journals including the Journal of Gender Studies, Environmental Values, Feminist Media Studies, Disability & Society, Food, Culture & Society, and Society & Animals. In July 2013, she founded the Vegan Feminist Network, an academic-activist project engaging intersectional social justice praxis.
I don’t know about you, but for me between the multiple genocides, the rise in COVID cases, the massive COVID denial, the related rise in mask bans, the elections, police violence, the rising threat of fascism, climate change, and so many other issues – for fuck’s sake! it’s a lot.
And so lately, I’ve been feeling like while I am doing what I can to be part of the collective effort for justice, (for another world is possible), I can’t only make protest art. My heart also needs lighter projects.
And so recently I’ve returned to making vegan content. But not some call for intersectionality, articles discussing inner-movement issues, kill counter references, and environmental stats, as I had done in the past. Just lighter. And perhaps because it has been a while since I have made vegan content, I found myself unexpectedly reflecting on the intersections of my disability and vegan identity.
Before my disability identity-themed YouTube show (Rebelwheels NYC), I had a short-lived vegan cooking show called My Easily Amused Kitchen.
[image description: video thumbnail. a screenshot from the video taken in my apartment. a white wall and a purple couch behind me. text reads MEAK ep 1 creamy pea soup of vast fantasticness! my easily amused kitchen. there is olive oil being poured onto a bowl of peas. and I am pointing with my finger up sitting next to a penguin stuffed animal. I have glasses, a black shirt, and longer hair with bangs]
And looking back on that time, I realize that I really wasn’t being fully authentic in the videos. Of course, it was done in my motorized wheelchair and there was some of my quirky humor, but I remember I often downplayed any kind of physical fatigue even though that is part of my disability.
You see, between my animal rights activism at the time and the vegan content that I watched on YouTube, I was very much familiar with the protein myth. The false idea that if you go vegan, that you will by default, be physically weak due to not being able to get enough protein on a vegan diet.
Often I saw other (physically able-bodied) vegans whether in person or via YouTube videos who were very intentional about presenting veganism as part of an energetic lifestyle in an attempt to counteract said misinformation.
And there are many professional athletes who are vegan. I personally knew a guy (not professional) who was vegan, who lifted weights and ran marathons with ease.
And then there was me, a disabled vegan, and not Paralympic disabled, disabled with low spoons (slang term for energy), disabled with health problems, disabled where muscle weakness is literally part of my disability. And now I can type that and say “represent” with a sense of disability pride, but back then it almost felt like it was a hindrance to the cause.
And to be clear, no one ever said to me “hide parts of your disability for the movement.” It was just the way it was presented that made me feel like I should.
And it wasn’t just the impression I got from a lot of people in the vegan community. I could sneeze and an omnivore would say “Is that because you’re vegan?” (as if they themselves never sneezed?)
As a result, I was very aware of how my disability was somewhat being linked to the protein myth. As if I wouldn’t be disabled if I wasn’t vegan. As if people aren’t born with disabilities. As if disability and veganism were somehow incompatible.
And so part of me felt that to show my truth was feeding into that weakened stereotype, thus hurting the movement and thus hurting the animals, which obviously as a vegan and animal rights activist, you don’t want to do.
Looking back, it was also a lot of internalized ableism on my part, for I had yet to be aware that ableism was even a word, let alone working to unlearn it, and certainly had not yet found my groove and voice in my disability identity.
That said, I now see how essential it is to have a variety of vegan representation in all areas but in this case, ability and health.
And so, in the name of creating something lighter, and because it just so happened that I needed a new vegan cheese (long story), I filmed a taste test where I was un-apologetically me. Full throttle neurodivergent, processing delays, immensely honest, not downplaying when I was physically fatigued or in pain nor the fact that while there are many vegan cheeses out there, I could not try a lot of them, due to dietary intolerances and ingredient sensitivities.
[image description: tumblr has cropped the video thumbnail. the full thumbnail is as follows. Background gold glitter. Over that rainbow stripes. Purple blue green yellow orange red and dark red. To the left a photo of myself wearing a silence equals death with a watermelon pink triangle symbol on it holding up a piece of vegan cheese. I have oversized black cat eye eyeglasses and my rainbow flower crown hair band is pushing back my dark hair. Next to me is a collage of various vegan cheeses. And over that is the text in a bold black font “disabled and neurodivergent vegan taste test vegan cheese.” Every line has a white rectangle behind it and behind that is a black rectangle shadow. In white text with a black rectangle behind it. “Not sponsored. Very honest.”]
And as a result of being authentic and sharing my truth, I’m starting to come across other disabled vegans like me, chronically ill vegans, neurodivergent vegans, etc. and it’s lovely.
However, I do think in the wanting and sometimes desperation to do all we can to save the animals (and to a certain degree, the planet as animal agriculture is one of the larger contributors to climate change), a lot of us took action to dispel the protein myth, and while in ways it was good, some of our actions had consequences that also caused harm.
It is a reminder that when we take action to fight misinformation, we must make sure that we are also not punching down in the process (whether intentionally or not.) This is something that goes far beyond veganism.
In the end, us vegans from marginalized communities must represent with as much realness as possible, not only so people know that vegans vary, but so other marginalized people who are perhaps ‘vegan-curious’, will know that they too are welcomed in the movement. After all, the animals need as many allies as they can get.
Author’s Note: In the past, I have written articles using my birth name Michele Kaplan. However, in the past year, I have decided to use my mother’s maiden name, and thus why this article is by Michele Sommerstein, while past articles are by Michele Kaplan. Same person. I didn’t get married. This just felt right to me for personal reasons.
Michele Sommerstein is a queer (read: bisexual), geek-proud, intersectional activist on wheels (read: motorized wheelchair), who tries to strike a balance between activism, creativity and self care, while trying to change the world.
In my forthcoming book, Vegan Witchcraft, I explore the history of feminist witchcraft in the US and UK, arguing that, despite many key parallels, feminist witches have failed their commitments to other animals (often referred to as familiars) in either ignoring or outright rejecting veganism and total liberation.
That said, I have found evidence that some witches are making this connection. In the early 1990s, for instance, the Feminists for Animal Rights Newsletter announced the formation of a new sister group in New York, Witches for Animal Rights. Witches for Animal Rights rallied fellow witches by imploring them to “save the world with your fork.” Feminists for Animal Rights (1994) explains that “members worship the Goddess by promoting the wellbeing of her nonhuman animals” (16), suggesting that interested readers contact the Morningstar Coven in McDonough, New York. Witches for Animal Rights also surfaces in the record as a performing group in “No RIO,” an anti-gentrification guerrilla project in New York City that provided space and platform for radical artists and activists (Forte 1989). This organization was likely shortlived as I was unable to find futher reference.
In the 2010s, a the Protego Foundation formed from a group of Harry Potter fans who contextualize their anti-speciesist activism in the magical creations of J. K. Rowling. A registered nonprofit, the Protego Foundation “fights to end the abuse of the animals in the Muggle world through our inspiration from the magical creatures in the wizarding world […] empowering all magical persons to get active for animals.”
Gregory Maguire’s (1995) retelling of the “Wicked” witch of Oz sees her (Elphaba Thropp) as a social justice activist, advocating for Nonhuman Animals and the environment. Indeed, vegan scholar Christopher Sebastian (2020) suggests that her skin is green as a symbolic reference to her advocacy for nature and other animals, but also to mark her as a monstrous other in protesting the violent social stratification of Oz where the oppression of humans and other animals are explicitly entangled.
Witches for Animal Rights, Wicked, and the Protego Foundation are interesting examples of witchcraft engaged in the service of other animals, but they are exceptions, not the norm. Many feminists have embraced spirituality, paganism, and witchcraft as an important thealogical, philosophical, psychological, and even strategic means of resilience and resistence, but few extend this nature-based practice to include veganism and species-inclusiveness. It remains to be seen if modern witchcraft will, on a whole, begin to incorporate these values. To date, it is not sufficiently distinct from mainstream speciesist feminism and anthropocentric institutionalized religions.
References
Feminists for Animal Rights. 1994. “Resources.” Feminists for Animal Rights Newsletter 8 (1-2): 16.
Forte, S. 1989. “Guerilla Space: A Few Many Things about ABC No Rio.” X-posure Summer: no page.
Maguire, G. 1995. Wicked. New York: HarperCollins.
Sebastian, C. 2020. “Adaptation: No One Mourns the Wicked, But We Should.” Pp. 212-221, in The Edinburgh Companion to Vegan Literary Studies, L. Wright and E. Quinn (Eds.). Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press.
Witches for Animal Rights. 1994. “Save the World with Your Fork!” Feminists for Animal Rights Newsletter 8 (1-2): 15.
Dr. Wrenn is Senior Lecturer in Sociology at the University of Kent. She received her Ph.D. in Sociology with Colorado State University in 2016. She was awarded Exemplary Diversity Scholar, 2016 by the University of Michigan’s National Center for Institutional Diversity. She served as council member with the American Sociological Association’s Animals & Society section (2013-2016) and was elected Chair in 2018. She is the co-founder of the International Association of Vegan Sociologists. She serves as Book Review Editor to Society & Animals and is a member of the Research Advisory Council of The Vegan Society. She has contributed to the Human-Animal Studies Images and Cinema blogs for the Animals and Society Institute and has been published in several peer-reviewed academic journals including the Journal of Gender Studies, Environmental Values, Feminist Media Studies, Disability & Society, Food, Culture & Society, and Society & Animals. In July 2013, she founded the Vegan Feminist Network, an academic-activist project engaging intersectional social justice praxis.
Victoria Woodhull (1838-1927) was, in the late 19th century, one of the most outspoken and well-known women’s rights advocates. More than a feminist, she was also abreast of many other social justice causes of the era, including child welfare, food reform, and wealth redistribution. Many secondary sources hint that Woodhull had ties to vegetarianism (Donovan 1990, Robinson 2010), suggesting a potentially lost hero overlooked in the vegan feminist annals.
A survivor of child marriage, Woodhull advocated for the radicalization of oppressive marriage institutions and found herself dubbed “Mrs. Satan” for her radical “free-love” politics. Indeed, her influence (or at least tenacity) was so great, she was compelled to run for presidency under the Equal Rights Party in 1872.1 She believed in the human capacity to challenge injustice and progress society, but this position tended to reflect the eugenics discourse that was popular at the time. Indeed, Woodhull’s politics were premised on the supposed social and biological malleability of society:
Social evils are caused, first, by unequal distribution of wealth–no one held morally responsible as regards the methods by which the wealth is acquired; second, too many individuals are over-fed and underworked, and too many are overworked and underfed; third, too many are badly bred.
(Woodhull 1892a: 53)
She adopted a Christian scientific approach, deeply contemplating the animality of human beings and how moral concern for others as well as the cultural advantages of civilization differentiated the species. While such a perspective could certainly be said to diminish other animals who are positioned as morally and culturally stunted by comparison, her aim was to wield modern scientific and ethical advancements to better society (Woodhull 1893). For Woodhull, attention to the possibilities of optimum human intellect and social organization was needed, as slavery, marriage, capitalist exploitation, and other institutionalized inequalities were thought to stifle human progress itself.
For these reasons, Woodhull actually saw herself as a contemporary of Marx. I suspect that, vegetarianism, if included in her ideology, would certainly be positioned in line with her vision for social revolution. I examined some of Woodhull’s work in hopes of uncovering this possible intersection.
The results were disappointing to say the least.
Eugenics, Animality and Social Change
Woodhull’s politics are documented in the pages of her publications, namely the Woodhull & Claflin’sWeekly and The Humanitarian. Indeed, her journal would be the first to print Marx and Engel’s Communist Manifesto in the United States (Johnston 1967). These journals are also reported to feature discussions of vegetarianism. Woodhull had been very successful in the stock market (another feminist first), allowing her to self publish. Her writings are subsequently deeply polemical.
For instance, despite her dedication to socialism, Woodhull’s idea of progress did not bode well for society’s marginalized social classes. In one editorial, she refers to these people as “totally usless [sic] animal weeds” who “choke and sap the vitality of the fit” (1893: 53). She argued that humans, like “horses and roses,” should be bred for betterment, as “progress in evolution is accomplished by the elimination of the unfit” (1893: 52).
Thus, challenging inequality was not just important as a moral matter to those experiencing it, but to society as a whole since social inequality made it difficult to determine who was “fit” or “unfit,” blocking “human progress” (1893: 52): “What wonderful solicitude is shown in the breeding of choice animals, and what utter indifference in the breeding of boys and girls, whereas it ought to be the other way” (1893: 52). I did not read closely enough to determine how she planned to execute this genetic policing.
Perhaps we can grant that the intentions of many eugenicists, particularly those who were ardent social justice advocates like Woodhull, were well-meaning. Disability politics of the late 20th and early 21st century, afterall, are comparatively postmodern in substance, questioning what constitutes “good,” “bad,” or “progress,” upsetting old binaries, and advocating for the radical and compassionate accommodation of all individuals just as they are. These ideas, I can only assume, were not well known at the time or at least failed to resonate given the heavy excitement surrounding cutting edge evolutionary science. The late 19th century was truly emboldened by Darwinism, which instigated a dramatic shift in Western epistemology. It seemed increasingly possible that humans were not just divinely appointed on earth by some unknowable, uncontrollable power that relinquished little control over society’s trajectory. Life on earth instead came to be seen as a work in progress, a work that might be adjusted through human agency.
That said, the particular vitriol of Woodhull’s position on persons relegated to the lower classes, people with disabilities, people with alcohol addiction, and even sex workers leaves little room for grace.
Vegetarianism, Animal Rights, and Humanitarianism
Woodhull’s attachment to eugenics is extremely disquieting, and, given her ardent interest in controlling bodies–human or nonhuman–to achieve her idea of social and biological perfection, I held out little hope that her vegetarian position would offer any redemption as I continued through her periodicals. In fact, in my precursory search of Woodhull & Claflin’s Weekly (published in the 1870s) and The Humanitarian (published in the 1890s), I was not able to find any promotion of vegetarianism.2 Woodhull’s own writing dominated the periodicals, and primarily made mention of other animals for the purposes of comparison with humans who she believed ought to practice restraint and civility to distinguish themselves as a higher species. Domestication, with its manipulation of nonhuman bodies, was a point of inspiration for her eugenics agenda (Woodhull 1892b).
Dietary pieces were sometimes featured but did not advocate vegetarianism that I could see. A typical example can be found in a submission she published under the “Medical Department” of The Humanitarian, within which the author discusses ways to cure and process animal bodies for optimal consumption (Welles 1893a). In another article, the same physician rejects vegetarianism, as “the teeth of man” are “adapted to the mastication of animal flesh” and “animal food, thence, reorganized, furnishes immediately to man that highly organized and stimulating nerve food, from which the higher and nobler development of brain power is the manifest result” (Welles 1893b: 45). He goes on to justify human “supremacy over other animal life” by drawing on Innuit people of the Arctic and other Indigenous communities of the Americas as evidence to the supposedly natural (read primitive) way of the human species. Oppressing other animals is, on one hand, offered as evidence to the advancement of human civilization, while, on the other hand, the “uncivilized” peoples of the world who oppress animals (usually living in extreme environments and themselves deeply oppressed by European colonialism) are made examples of authentic humanity. The same weak (and colonialist) logics that stand in opposition to veganism today, in sum, are touted in Woodhull’s Humanitarian periodical.3
Her use of the term “humanitarian” is telling here. By the late 1870s, Woodhull was living in the southwestern United Kingdom, where the periodical was published and circulated. She was a contemporary of Henry Salt (who also lived in southern England) and would surely have been familiar with his own humanitarian writings and activism. Salt’s (1892) Animals’ Rights Considered in Relation to Social Progress was one of the first major publications on the topic of anti-speciesism. His own Humanitarian League (now the League Against Cruel Sports) centered the Nonhuman Animal cause in its agenda. Woodhull (1892a), by contrast, makes no mention of them at all in introducing her otherwise intersectional humanitarian platform as presidential candidate.4
It seems very likely that Woodhull, a socialist-feminist humanitarian active in the same region as Salt and a multitude of other socialist-feminist anti-speciesists, would have been familiar with their political claimsmaking.
“Humanitarian” Vivisection
Further evidence of Woodhull’s well-rounded speciesism can be found in another socialist article printed in The Humanitarian which explores the science of physical labor and its impact on the body. The evidence presented undoubtedly derives from vivisection. Woodhull anticipates criticism from her readers, including a quote from prominent vivisection-defending physician William Gull5 at the end of the article:
Sir William Gull was asked by a lady if he did not consider experiments on animals as cruel. “madam,” he said, “there is no cruelty comparable to ignorance.”
(Woodhull 1892: 39)
Of course, experiments that transpired in Victorian vivisection theaters and laboratories are the epitome of cruelty, enacted for the most wonton of curiosities without anaesthesia or any other alleviation from fear or pain. These are justthe sort of cruelties that surely lurk behind the labor study that Woodhull spotlights in The Humanitarian, seeing as how it aims to understand the detrimental impacts of extreme distress on muscular and cardiovascular systems. Nonhuman Animals are inevitably slated for dangerous and gratuitous experiments such as these.6
Another case of vivisection is spotlighted in support of prison reform. One contributor recounts his travels abroad in Corsica, where he and his travel party killed several pigs to dissect for the purpose of learning more about their eating habits. Apparently, pigs, being opportunists, will eat all manner of things and persons, including deers, birds, other pigs, and even humans. This research is supposed to serve as a rudimentary criminology, explaining why criminals might engage in violent, seemingly unnatural crimes as do pigs (Rothery 1892). Whatever might be gleaned from the stomach contents of murdered pigs and bizarre trans-species comparisons of moral intent, it certainly does not support the notion that Woodhull was accommodating to vegetarian politics.
Conclusion
I want to be clear that my analysis of Woodhull’s writings is anything but comprehensive. It is based on a cursory and purposive sample of convenience. It may be the case that pro-vegetarian or anti-speciesist essays exist beyond the handful of digitized copies available to me, but it is quite clear that Woodhull’s first political interest is the sexual liberation of women, and her second is improving the moral and physical character of society through eugenics. Nonhuman Animals only surface as points of comparison, “nourishing” ingredients in food, and objects for scientific experiments. Nonhuman Animals, in other words, are merely fodder for her vision of a progressive society. The view that other animals are sentient beings capable of suffering and worthy of political action–a view that was widely adopted by other progressive era activists, especially suffragettes–was not adopted by Woodhull.
Ultimately, Woodhull’s campaign to include women in the 14th amendment to the US Constitution, the amendment that granted suffrage to recently enslaved African American men, sat uneasy with many fellow activists.7 Her insistence on free love—which prioritized women’s autonomy over men’s institutional and personal entitlement to them—sat even uneasier. Her politics were indeed so radical that she was eventually dropped by the American feminist movement, unsupported in her time but also unrecorded in their feminist anthologies and thus forgotten in modern women’s history. Even Marx found Woodhull’s socialist campaigning noxious and disingenuous. Unfortunately, if there were to be any redeeming qualities to be found in her support of vegetarianism, I have yet to find them.
Perhaps some elements of Woodhull’s tireless work to advance society is worth celebrating, particularly her effort to uplift women’s independence and her challenge the bondage of marriage. But her class position created a very awkward sort of sympathy with disadvantaged people that demeaned them as much as it hoped to uplift them. I suspect it is the same classist hierarchical thinking that leaves Woodhull unable to offer Nonhuman Animals any sympathy at all.
Notes
Woodhull is considered by many to be the first woman to run for president, however she would have been too young to legitimately take office in the event of her election. Furthermore, her appointed running mate Frederick Douglass was likely unaware that he had been added to her ballot, suggesting the campaign was only symbolic.
The Woodhull & Claflin Weekly is available through the Hamilton College Library. I browsed a few issues manually for mention of anti-speciesism or vegetarianism, but I also used a key word search for “vegetarian” which did not turn up any matches. Some issues of The Humanitarian are hosted online by The International Association for the Preservation of Spiritualist and Occult Periodicals.
Woodhull’s platform, does, however, heavily emphasize the importance of providing substantive, healthy, and unadulterated food.
Gull’s grim and uncompromising defense of vivisection has been cited as evidence by several web sources as to why this physician is thought a suspect in the “Jack the Ripper” case by some.
Vulnerable humans were often exploited for vivisection as well, including people with disabilities, women, enslaved people, Irish immigrants, and people in poverty. It does not seem clear that Woodhull was aware of this important intersection in her support of vivisection.
Some activists were concerned that introducing women to the proposal would be considered too radical by legislators and thereby undermine its potential to pass. Given that many advocating the inclusion of women were wealthy white women whose experiences were miles away from that of recently enslaved Black men, their insistence on inclusion, while merited, inflamed racial tensions in both feminist and abolitionist movements.
Works Cited
Donovan, J. 1990. “Animal Rights and Feminist Theory.” Signs 15 (2): 350-375.
Johnston, J. 1967. Mrs. Satan: The Incredible Saga of Victoria Woodhull. London: Macmillan.
Dr. Wrenn is Lecturer in Sociology at the University of Kent. She received her Ph.D. in Sociology with Colorado State University in 2016. She was awarded Exemplary Diversity Scholar, 2016 by the University of Michigan’s National Center for Institutional Diversity. She served as council member with the American Sociological Association’s Animals & Society section (2013-2016) and was elected Chair in 2018. She is the co-founder of the International Association of Vegan Sociologists. She serves as Book Review Editor to Society & Animals and is a member of the Research Advisory Council of The Vegan Society. She has contributed to the Human-Animal Studies Images and Cinema blogs for the Animals and Society Institute and has been published in several peer-reviewed academic journals including the Journal of Gender Studies, Environmental Values, Feminist Media Studies, Disability & Society, Food, Culture & Society, and Society & Animals. In July 2013, she founded the Vegan Feminist Network, an academic-activist project engaging intersectional social justice praxis.
Anna Kingsford, Britain’s first qualified female medical doctor, was especially horrified by the burgeoning vivisection industry in the 19th century. Women were disadvantaged by their societal exclusion when protesting men’s scientific violence against other animals, but Kingsford’s medical training granted her access, insider knowledge, and proof that a degree could be earned without harming other animals. She also used her medical training to produce research that supported the suitability of plant-based eating, information that was largely absent in a society that was only just coming to discover and understand the science of nutrition.
When science and medicine proved ineffectual in her liberation campaign, she turned to the psychic realm. She levied psychic attacks on European vivisectionists, aiming not just to disrupt their work but reportedly to end their lives.
In the history of Nonhuman Animal rights, Kingsford is remembered as one of the first vegetarian feminists, bravely resisting anthroparchal violence in an era that offered little platform to women. But I would suggest that Kingsford should also be remembered as one of the first vegetarian witches. She certainly believed male vivisectionists were such—for Kingsford, these were not objective, calm, scientists; they were instead sorcerers engaged in black magic, fiendish for the blood, gore, and suffering associated with their laboratory torture.
Like the 20th century feminist witches that would follow her, she believed in reincarnation. Nonhuman Animals, she warned, were due considerable karmic compensation. Vivisectionists, then, if not to meet any justice in this life, would surely meet it in the next. Her belief in the afterlife of Nonhuman Animals perhaps offered some sort of solace. In her metaphysical work, these victims finally had voices, speaking to her in seances.
Although Kingsford may not have identified as a witch (while she was influenced by a variety of world religions, she was an avid Christian), the same concentrated intention for ending patriarchal violence and enacting justice through metaphysical means would be taken up by second-wave feminists in California a century later.
Work Cited
Budapest, Z. 1986. The Holy Book of Women’s Mysteries: Feminist Witchcraft, Goddess Rituals, Spellcasting, and Other Womanly Arts. Oakland: Consolidated Printers.
Ferguson, C. 2022. “Anna Kingsford and the Intuitive Science of Occultism.” Aries—Journal for the Study of Western Esotericism 22: 114-135.
Dr. Wrenn is Lecturer in Sociology at the University of Kent. She received her Ph.D. in Sociology with Colorado State University in 2016. She was awarded Exemplary Diversity Scholar, 2016 by the University of Michigan’s National Center for Institutional Diversity. She served as council member with the American Sociological Association’s Animals & Society section (2013-2016) and was elected Chair in 2018. She is the co-founder of the International Association of Vegan Sociologists. She serves as Book Review Editor to Society & Animals and is a member of the Research Advisory Council of The Vegan Society. She has contributed to the Human-Animal Studies Images and Cinema blogs for the Animals and Society Institute and has been published in several peer-reviewed academic journals including the Journal of Gender Studies, Environmental Values, Feminist Media Studies, Disability & Society, Food, Culture & Society, and Society & Animals. In July 2013, she founded the Vegan Feminist Network, an academic-activist project engaging intersectional social justice praxis.