Even though the uterus is considered a typically female attribute, feminist movements have viewed it differently. Since the 19^th century, the challenge to gender inequality has involved demands for rights related to childbirth, motherhood, and birth control. During the 20^th century, however, the uterus became increasingly explicit as an organ in feminist discourse, even becoming a means of protest during the second wave, which drew, displayed, and advocated for its reappropriation. Although its visibility has varied since the first wave of feminism, it remains the organ around which the oppositions and divergences between different feminisms crystallize around the issue of the “naturalness” of women's bodies.

From “womb strikes” to “the children we want”

Since the end of the 19^th century, feminist thinking has incorporated the uterus in various ways and for various purposes. During the first wave, there were multiple demands for social rights (around work, etc.), civil rights (the right to vote, etc.), reproductive rights, and access to healthcare (maternity, childbirth, improved conditions for mothers, etc.). However, the uterus itself was rarely mentioned. Thus, when feminist doctor Madeleine Pelletier wrote: “From the fact that gestation takes place in the uterus and not in the prostate, I do not see how one can conclude that it is impossible for those with a uterus to vote or be elected,” (« La question du vote des femmes », La Revue socialiste, sept-oct 1908) she is doubly radical: because she explicitly mentions the organ (her profession may have something to do with her use of this term) and because she calls for a society in which women could reject marriage and motherhood and would have—despite their uterus—the same civil and political rights as men. On the one hand, the majority of feminists are opposed to contraception and are committed to the defence and protection of maternal bodies: the 1900 International Feminist Congress thus reiterated that the purpose of women is to be mothers. On the other hand, References to the organ mainly use more euphemistic terms, even among the few feminists who supported neo-Malthusianism: this is evidenced by the “womb strike” movement, which ran from the late 19^th century to the 1920s and aimed to stand in the way of pro-natalist policies.

The origin of this slogan, which flourished in the 1890s, remains a matter of debate, most often attributed—probably incorrectly—to Marie Huot, and more rarely to Augustine Bron. In any case, on May 6, 1920, in La Voix des femmes, feminist Nelly Roussel used it to counter the establishment of a “day for mothers of large families” (fig. 2). In the aftermath of World War I, this other radical feminist, who since the 1900s had been advocated for free motherhood, thus contravened the policy of “repopulation” advocated by the French government and opposed the injunction made to women to reproduce in order to save the nation. Her demand, very isolated in the feminist field, for the emancipation of women through their ability to control their “wombs” heralded that of second-wave feminists.

In the 1960s and especially the 1970s, there was a proliferation of slogans, texts, posters, leaflets, and flyers in favour of contraception, which was authorized in France by the Neuwirth Law of 1967, and abortion, which was legalized in France in 1975 by the Veil Law. On these occasions, many trade unions and associations took up these demands and made the uterus more or less directly visible. As in this cartoon in a newspaper article (fig. 2), it was often round bellies, mistreated by men and the various institutions they represented (medical institutions, the Church, capitalism, etc.), that appeared.

Struggles then involved women reclaiming their bodies and reproductive organs. While abortion was still illegal in France, the “Karman” method (named after its inventor, the American Harvey Karman) was developed to enable doctors and, above all, women to perform abortions clandestinely but safely. Part of the “self-help” movement, the method, practiced in the first eight weeks of pregnancy, allowed women to take control of their own health. Clandestinely distributed leaflets explained the method used (fig. 3) and promoted it: a cannula was inserted into the vagina and a syringe sucked out the contents of the uterus. Considered painless, this type of abortion did not require anaesthesia and was usually performed with the support of a group of women, more rarely men.

Education was a key concern for second-wave feminists, who called on women to (re)take control of their bodies and fight for the freedom to control their own reproduction and the “right to have the children we want.”

An organ that asserts itself as such in the third wave

It was mainly at the turn of the century, with the third wave of feminism, that the uterus became an object of protest in its own right. With the emergence of the fight against obstetric and gynaecological violence, the organ not only became the subject of dedicated discourse, but its visibility also changed: it was drawn and stylized on banners, logos, and integrated into slogans such as “Paye ton utérus” (“Pay for your uterus”), which appeared in 2014, and “Balance ton utérus” (“Throw your uterus away”), created in 2019. Through these demands, women express their right to have their organ treated with kindness during gynaecological and medical consultations, regardless of their age, status, or origin, and to have their requests heard. Marie-Hélène Lahaye, for her part, has documented the frequent disregard for the requests made by pregnant women or women in labour (regarding birthing positions and the number of examinations, for example).

This visibility of the uterus can also be seen in the defence of rights acquired during previous waves. In the spring and summer of 2022, in the United States, during protests in defence of abortion rights, which were called into question with the overturning of the Roe v. Wade* ruling, uteruses were prominently displayed on signs and slogans. The “legal assault on uterine sovereignty” (Paul B. Preciado, Libération, June 25, 2022) is met with growing visibility of the organ, proudly represented and displayed.

The placard (fig. 4) brandished in Los Angeles during a protest in the weeks of tension preceding the decision calls for the reappropriation of the organ: The elephant is the symbol animal of Donald Trump's Republican Party, the president who appointed several judges to the Supreme Court who tipped the vote. The slogan also plays on the idiomatic expression “elephant in the room,” which refers to an essential but embarrassing subject that no one dares to talk about. “Talking about the elephant in the uterus” is an affirmation of women’s right to freely control their own bodies.

This assertive desire to reclaim the body also involves a better understanding of it, which is part of the “self-help” movement. Designer Fanny Prudhomme, noting a lack of knowledge among teenage girls about their own bodies despite the proliferation of communication channels, particularly thanks to the internet, responded in 2018 by offering a kit (fig. 5) presenting the organs of sexuality and reproduction. Emphasizing their functionality was preferred to a hyper-realistic representation. The objects are designed to be handled; for example, the endometrium—shown in red in the figure—can be removed from the uterus. The educational kit can be purchased, but there is also an open-source kit that is inexpensive to make, facilitating access and distribution. The creator’s aim is to enable people with uteruses, regardless of their age, to discuss their bodies, hence the name of the project, “Les Parleuses” (The Talkers).

In the second wave, because the uterus embodies the biological difference between the sexes, it is either valued (differentialist feminism) or, on the contrary, seen as the very symbol of women’s alienation (materialist feminism). During the third wave, it is the social practices surrounding the uterus that divided feminists, such as assisted reproductive technology (ART) for all and, above all, surrogacy, which is perceived as either a liberation or, on the contrary, an exploitation of women.

Representing the uterus today: an extension of feminist struggles? (an allusion to Michel Houellebecq’ novel, translated as “Whatever” in English)

The 21^st century has seen the development of a new regime of visibility for the organ, between aestheticization and artification, between feminist demands and commodification.

During the protests in the United States in early summer 2022, the uterus was not only represented inside a body with feminine curves, as in Figure 3, but was also used as an autonomous piece or tool of struggle. Thus, on a sign proudly held by an activist on the sidelines of the march on the Capitol in Saint Paul (capital of the state of Minnesota) on July 27, 2022, an aestheticization of the uterus was seen: a stylized but easily recognizable organ is associated with the serpent (biblical animal of temptation or guardian with its mouth open). The floral metaphor, meanwhile, speaks as much to the cycle of vegetation as it does to feminine nature. Between imagination and fantasy, between strength and femininity, the organ becomes a weapon of combat.

The greater visibility of the uterus in the context of feminist demands is also reflected in its growing presence in the artistic field. The visual, plastic, and narrative arts have given pride of place to the organ for the past twenty years or so, no doubt influenced by Margaret Atwood's novel, The Handmaid's Tale, published in 1985. Its artistic mobilization accompanies militant, or at least protest-oriented, discourse. Annette Messager's 2017 work, Utérus doigt d'honneur (Uterus Middle Finger), is unambiguously part of this movement, both in its visuals and its title.

In 2022, Élodie Wysocki’s installation-performance, La mise à mort de la vache laitière (The Killing of the Dairy Cow), questions the exploitation of human and animal bodies from a continuum perspective. A ceramic reproduction of a bovine vertebra, used as a symbol of animal exploitation, is placed on a printed fabric depicting a detail of the uterine mucosa of a dairy cow. Using the tufting technique, the artist produces layers which she then arranges, in a gesture of repair, on the representation of the animal uterus (fig. 7). Embroidery, an activity stereotypically associated with women, is thus part of the call for a different type of zoo-anthropological relationship, one that is not anthropocentric but based on the recognition of a human-animal community. It questions the different facets of the exploitation of uterine organs, whether human or non-human.

Perhaps more surprisingly, the commercial world is also involved in raising the profile of the uterus and the issues associated with this organ. Neoliberal “feminism” is effectively using every possible medium to its advantage. For several years now, a well-known feminine hygiene brand has been running advertising campaigns featuring the uterus and accompanied by slogans inspired by “My body, My choice,” such as “Dare to do anything” or “The wheel of the uterus.” The reception of these campaigns has been mixed, as they are suspected of using the uterus more for commercial and marketing purposes than for feminist liberation. Over the past decade, the development of “pop feminism,” which displays the uterus as a detached and autonomous part of the body, has called into question the boundaries between activism and marketing. Feminism-washing does not hesitate to appropriate causes—particularly those related to liberation or reappropriation of the body—by displaying the organ and associated slogans (No Uterus No Opinion, etc.) on clothing (Dior, Gucci, etc.), wallpaper, fabrics, and everyday objects.

Bibliography :

K. Bergès, « Remous autour des vagues féministes », in K. Bergès, F. Binard, A. Guyard-Nedelec (dir.), Féminismes du XXI^e siècle. La troisième vague, Rennes, Presses Universitaires de Rennes, 2017, p. 11-27.

A. Cova, Féminismes et néo-malthusianismes sous la iii^e République. « La liberté de la maternité », Paris, L’Harmattan, 2011.

M.-H. Lahaye, Accouchement. Les femmes méritent mieux, Paris, Michalon, 2018.

J. Luyssen, « Pop féminisme », in C. Bard (dir.), Dictionnaire des féminismes. France xviii^e-xxi^e siècle, Paris, PUF, 2017, p. 1150.

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L. Ruault, « La circulation transnationale du self-help féministe : acte 2 des luttes pour l’avortement libre ? », Critique internationale, 70, 1, 2016, p. 37-54.