The unsealing of the Jeffrey Epstein files has not merely sparked discussion but unleashed a torrent of fury among women worldwide. As the grotesque details of how the world's wealthiest men exploited their power to abuse vulnerable individuals become increasingly clear, a deep-seated rage is palpable. For many women, this is not a distant political scandal but a visceral, personal affront that underscores enduring systemic misogyny.
A Stark Divide in Reactions
Observers note a striking contrast in responses to the Epstein revelations. Male commentators often adopt a sombre, clinical tone, quickly pivoting to political ramifications such as potential impacts on figures like Keir Starmer. In contrast, women—from everyday individuals to female broadcasters—express raw horror and incandescent anger. Their focus remains firmly on the victims: the countless nameless women and girls allegedly bought, sold, and abused by men who considered themselves untouchable.
This fury is compounded by allegations that redactions in the documents may obscure key names for political rather than legal reasons. As Helen Rumbelow of The Times powerfully articulated, reviewing the files feels like "taking the back off the world clock," exposing the porn-saturated woman-hating that oils the cogs of power among elites in government, academia, royalty, and business.
Historical Context of Women's Outrage
The current anger resonates with previous cultural flashpoints. The #MeToo movement gained global traction in 2017, followed by widespread marches opposing Donald Trump's inauguration after his derogatory remarks about women. In 2021, the rape and murder of Sarah Everard by a serving police officer sparked national outcry and protests demanding safety and an end to violence. Yet, despite these movements, abuse persists, fueling frustration at the slow pace of meaningful change.
For many women, the Epstein files serve as a brutal reminder that misogyny simmers beneath society's polished surface. The case of Harvey Weinstein—who once attended a women's march before his crimes were exposed—highlights the hypocrisy of some prominent men who offer empty platitudes while perpetuating harm.
From Anger to Action: The Icelandic Precedent
As rage reaches boiling point, history offers a potent model for channeling collective fury into transformative action. On 24 October 1975, Icelandic women staged a nationwide walkout, now known as the Women's Day Off. They refused both paid and unpaid labour—no work, cooking, cleaning, or childcare—for 24 hours. With 90% participation, the country ground to a halt: fish factories, banks, and shops closed, supermarkets sold out of sausages, and employers scrambled to accommodate children brought to work by fathers.
The results were swift and profound. Within a year, Iceland's parliament passed laws guaranteeing equal rights. By 1980, Vigdís Finnbogadóttir became the world's first democratically elected female president. Today, Iceland consistently ranks first in global gender equality indices. Icelandic women have continued this legacy with periodic strikes, including a 2023 protest against gender pay gaps and violence, joined by then-Prime Minister Katrín Jakobsdóttir.
Global Movements and Contemporary Calls
This spirit of organised resistance extends beyond Iceland. The Wages for Housework movement, founded in the early 1970s by figures like Mariarosa Dalla Costa and Selma James, demanded recognition and remuneration for women's unpaid labour. Their slogan, "When women stop, everything stops," drew inspiration from Iceland's actions. Today, the Global Women's Strike, coordinated by the now-95-year-old James, organises demonstrations in over 60 countries, often aligning with International Women's Day on 8 March.
In light of the Epstein revelations, there are growing calls to harness current rage into similar collective action. Some suggest rebranding International Women's Day as International Walkout Day, advocating for a global strike to hit the patriarchy "in the only place it ever really hurts: their pockets." As one writer implores, "If hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, it really hath no fury like a woman who's seen too many of her sisters oppressed, assaulted and violated." The question remains: will this fury translate into a transformative movement, or will it simmer until the next scandal erupts?
