Simone Schmollack is right: a picnic isn’t enough to spark a revolution. What she overlooks is that it was never meant to be the final word.
By Isabelle Emig
In her DLF commentary from March 10, German journalist Simone Schmollack takes a critical look at March 9, 2026. She compares it to Iceland’s far more successful women’s strike and the German women’s strike 32 years earlier. The former truly brought the country to a standstill; the latter set out to do so but failed. And now, well: According to Schmollack’s commentary, March 9, 2026, unfortunately achieved absolutely nothing. Schmollack’s commentary draws on history and thus comes across as a fact-based analysis of the sad reality. German women* are apparently not cut out to be revolutionaries.
With such a lack of political perspective, the author naturally does not consider what she could change. It is enough to point to the others in the parliaments and women’s organizations who are doing the work. At this point, we’ll spare you from having to read about how little the political commentary section has contributed to the feminist revolution so far through articles of this kind. Unlike Schmollack, we do not subscribe to the assumption here that it would be productive to rant about the unproductiveness of other feminists. Instead, we proceed on the assumption that Schmollack underestimates us. She underestimates the women* having a picnic. She underestimates the picnic itself. And she underestimates the connections. All three underestimations are based on a typically patriarchal view of things, which we will now work to dismantle together in the following.
THE UNDERESTIMATION OF THE STRIKING WOMEN*
Who is the woman sitting on the picnic blanket on March 9? Certainly more than just a picnicker. After all, she has decided to participate in a political picnic. A form of action that occupies space and creates space for encounter, thereby consciously breaking with everyday life without appearing too radical. Will she return to her life after the picnic and tolerate patriarchy? Or is her decision to go to the picnic not driven by a feminist mindset that she also lives out in other moments of her life? Isn’t she also capable of being a pioneer for a feminist organization on another day, if she’s picnicking today? All too often, we reduce strikers to nothing but their striking. A mistake that all classically patriarchal strike movements have made—until a woman came along who explained to them how to do things differently. Jane McAlevey has taught activists from over 70 countries how to organize a successful strike. Her method, community organizing, stems in particular from the practices of 1199SEIU Locals, the New York nurses’ union. One of the most militant unions, it has mobilized Black working-class women not only in the fight against exploitation by employers but also in the fight against racism and patriarchy like hardly any other organization. The secret that the SEIU sisters cracked and that Jane McAlevey brought to the world for the rest of us:
“The striker is part of her community. She is not just a worker; she is also a mother, she is a churchgoer, she is a neighbor—she is hundreds of women* in one woman.”
And in each of these facets, she fights the same fight she fights on the strike. She will speak just as passionately in her church congregation about ending exploitation as she does on the strike. This works both ways: women* who are only half-committed to the strike will also advocate for the cause only half-heartedly outside of the strike.
THE UNDERESTIMATION OF THE PICNIC AS A FORM OF STRIKE
The little picnic. Oh dear—the little picnic isn’t going to change the world. Isn’t it embarrassing? Cackling women* blocking the way with their picnic—for a cause that’s going nowhere anyway? Doesn’t any of these feminists feel ashamed anymore that the failure of their message is evident in the form they choose?
Traditional labor strikes face this struggle: this strike is wild and illegal, that strike is too political, and the bus drivers’ strike shows no solidarity with the passengers anyway. Criticizing a strike for its “how” is always easier than denying the reason for the strike—the “what.” Ignore the lazy criticism of form! For it is legitimate when groups that have been sidelined by unions for years go on wildcat strikes, or when bus drivers demand more staff so that passengers can still get from A to B even in an expanded network. And likewise, the typically female strike, as we saw on March 9, is just as right as it took place. For feminist striking takes up space. It breaks with the notion that protest must be angry. Women* strike and protest differently than men. They are more creative, strike at different times, and are more playful—less angry, without being any less radical.
As movement researchers like Rachel Einwohner noted as early as 2000: “… strategies using frames that ‘resonate’ with preexisting belief systems will be more effective. (…) By aligning themselves with traditional framings of gender, for instance, members of social movements can make themselves seem familiar and therefore unthreatening.” Educators who start doing crafts or singing songs during a strike are not making themselves look ridiculous—they are conforming to gendered expectations because it protects them and their strike. And only a safe strike will be repeatable and attract more and more women*. It is up to us to change our image of what a strike should look like.
THE UNDERESTIMATION OF CONNECTIONS
One of the most frustrating advantages parliamentarians have over activists is that the former always lead the parties to victory—victories that were only made possible in the first place by the strategic moves of the latter. In the end, the SPD puts its stamp on reforms that unions have long and painstakingly lobbied for, and the CDU appoints the first female chancellor, even though it had always resisted progress.
And we let these parties have their way. Because without the parliamentarians, it wouldn’t be possible in the end. But no one should forget that the courage to run for office is born first and foremost from the desire to rebel on a smaller scale.
Once you’ve gone on strike, you’re no longer afraid to talk to the CEO or take on responsibility. Women* allow themselves to tell the foreman or forewoman to take a hike. They dare to demand their rights or even take on an elected office in the local government. They contradict and defy their husbands and superiors. Feminized strikes—whether in northern France in the 1970s or currently in Germany—are both an expression and a source of a new self-confidence among women*: in the labor market, in the family, in the unions, in society.
No, the picnic is not enough for a revolution; it lacks the disruption of the (re)productive processes of capitalist and patriarchal society. But the picnic is a necessary intermediate step that can further politicize the picnickers and breathe new life into the feminist movement.
