How low can you stoop? Perhaps Vivek Ramaswamy can tell us. The Indian-origin Republican billionaire running for governor of Ohio planned to splash out $4 million to promote a one-minute ad featuring his opponent, Democrat Amy Acton — or to be more precise, her mother.
Acton has been estranged from her mother for close to half a century. She has spoken publicly about being sexually abused as a child by her stepfather. Cledith Arthur was charged with rape in 1978 but never stood trial. Acton’s mother appeared in the ad to denounce her as a liar and warn voters: “If you think she’ll make your life better, you’re fooling yourself.”
It takes a particularly perverse mind to dredge up a rival’s childhood trauma and use her alienated mother against her. But the ad was troubling on other levels. The disbelieving of survivors is one. And the sexualisation of female political rivals — in this case using Acton’s past sexual assault against her — is another. A 2026 Inter-Parliamentary Union report, based on a survey of 519 members of Parliament and case studies in five countries, found that 76% of women reported exposure to violence, compared to 68% of men. Men and women both are subjected to hate speech. But only one gender gets sexualised. A 2024 study looked at 35,545 pieces of deepfake sexualised images of 26 US members of Congress where all but one were female.
Artificial intelligence has made this easier, with female politicians increasingly being targeted with sexualised content. In early May, Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni went public after a sexualised fake image of her went viral. In India, an AI-generated retro-photo trend became an opportunity for BJP’s official state handles, including Kerala, Gujarat and Telangana, to circulate fabricated images of Sonia Gandhi as a woman at a bar surrounded by male politicians.
Age has not exempted the 79-year-old Congress leader from sexualised slurs, including of being a “bar girl” in Cambridge when she met Rajiv Gandhi. Why being a “bar girl” is derogatory is a mystery to me. But if we’re talking about facts, then Gandhi’s memoir, out in November, Belonging: A Journey of Love should set the record straight.
No one party here can claim the high moral ground. “There are times when I’ve broken down and wept,” says BJP spokesperson Shazia Ilmi of the abuse she routinely receives for being as she says, a woman, a Muslim, and someone who switched parties from the AAP to the BJP. The abuse she receives references her body. There are threats to gang-rape her. And even her family, including nieces and nephews, aren’t spared. “Men switch parties too, but they don’t get the kind of filth I do,” she says. How do you respond to this constant barrage that is designed to dispirit and discourage? Ilmi filed a police report. Nothing happened. Now, she says, she just blocks and moves on.
In a patriarchal society where the participation of women in public life is hindered by gender norms, the effect of misogynist language — sexualised slurs, comments about women’s looks, judging their abilities based on stereotypes — is two-fold. First, it delegitimises women’s political agency by reducing them to their sexuality and appearance. Second, it can deter women, especially those without powerful family connections, from entering public life or make it harder for those already here to stay.
What suffers in the end is not individual women but democracy itself. When women are discredited or deterred from public life, voters lose out too. Choices become narrower and political power remains concentrated in fewer, male hands.
(Note: As this column went to press, came the news that Vivek Ramaswamy had, in the face of bipartisan backlash, decided to pull the controversial hate ad.)
Namita Bhandare writes on gender. The views expressed are personal
