I left the Greens and their dogma

I’ve written extensively enough about the ordeal I went through over the past years within the Green Party, and to be honest, I find it all a bit boring now, and frankly tedious, to revisit or pick at scars.

This week – after ten years as an elected representative for the Greens – I left the party, and I could not be happier.

That’s not to say it was an easy decision. But the escalation – with motions to expel me and a colleague from the party – forced me to sit through this final chapter and confront a party leadership that could no longer avoid positioning itself in our cases. Would they follow the allegations of literal violence, erasure of trans people’s existence, misgendering, and othering, brought forward by a trans-identified male, echoing the ideology and dogmatism already entrenched in most parts of the party: the queer caucus, the student group, the women’s organisation, several district branches, and the party’s parliamentary work as a whole? Or would they support freedom of speech, democratic plurality and positions on the rights of women, lesbians and gay men, children and adolescents that, until very recently, were entirely uncontroversial?

To make it short: Two weeks ago, I was informed of their decision. I would not be expelled. My colleague, however, was. The logic may have seemed Solomonic to them (queerly so, perhaps). We were accused of essentially the same offences, but with a few decisive differences: high-profile politician vs low-profile activist, public platform vs none, complexity vs bluntness in how we voiced our criticisms. This way, they could preserve the appearance of pluralism by keeping me, and still make an example by expelling her.

Their official reasoning noted that my views had increasingly diverged from the party’s core programme. “Even if no violations of the fundamental values (…) can be established,” it read, “an alienation can be observed.”

Waving a Green flag at a demonstration against racism and fascism in Vienna, March 2018.

That is probably accurate — and, given the party’s recent moves, now irreparable.

I can no longer bear the infantile level of their TikTok politics, which always peaks during Pride Month. The performative declarations of solidarity, the inability to engage with arguments, reason, or reflection; even when so much is at stake. The internal chilling effect, as everyone in the party is forced into immersive roleplay - including feminists, lesbians and gay men, parents, and anyone who still believes in free speech as a democratic value. The dangerous capture by chaotic and malevolent activists. The complete absence of feminist analysis. The cowardice of leadership. The institutionalisation of an omertà around gender identity ideology. And none of this is theoretical.

Parliamentary motions repeatedly put forward by the Greens are calling for a ban on so-called conversion therapies that would criminalise any therapeutic work not explicitly aimed at supporting or affirming a child’s or young person’s self-perceived gender identity – up to the age of 21. The explanatory text speaks of a sense of identity that deviates from cisgender and of institutional/structural cis-het normativity. Ideological pamphleteering despite years of evidence, studies, and critical voices sounding the alarm.

The line for me, however, wasn’t crossed solely through the uncritical adoption of queer-activist demands by the party. In a few days, the Vienna Greens are expected to vote on a Code of Conduct at their assembly – a regulatory and disciplinary framework that will apply to everyone: officeholders, members, volunteers, and external contractors alike.

The stated aim is to prevent violence, harassment, and discrimination. But the code also classifies as violence what it calls epistemic, said to be embedded in knowledge and language, such as rejecting gender-inclusive language. Likewise, misgendering or microaggressions may be sanctioned – even when caused indirectly or without intent, by persons said to have caused a harmful or problematic situation. Anonymous reporting is institutionalised. An awareness commission is established. Sanctions range from removal from posts to re-education measures and expulsion. A tool for ideological discipline.

The party’s designated new leader recently said in an interview that in women’s policy, the independent decision of how much a woman wants to work should have just as much space as pronouns. One has to wonder, though: why did pronouns ever get so much space in the first place? A course correction is not in sight.

It is wrong to see the rejection of the motion to expel me as a win of any sort. I’ll admit to feeling relief when I read the email, and some of the messages I received from supporters echoed that. After all that happened, I still wasn’t free from the pull of group, belonging, vindication. An unsettling recognition of how compelling even the most abusive relationships can be.

Though I felt it was important to stay until they had taken a decision – on what could and could not be said within the party about reality and women’s rights – it would be a mistake to fall for the double game, while they continue down a path that erodes women’s rights and ostracises critics from within. They are now cementing both, the erosion and the exclusion, through rules and regulations that lock the party in a cage. I won’t be roaming the world in search of the key. The way out is open – for anyone willing to look up and walk through.

Truly, leaving had been a long time coming. Moving on feels liberating and exciting. Stretching out the fatigue, divisiveness, and inertia of party politics. Discovering and holding positions for myself, not for party rationale. There is weight in the unknown, but there is much freedom in stepping onto the other side of politics.