The current Ebola outbreak in East Africa represents a critical test of the America First approach to global health security—and it is already failing.
Stories about any of the 54 countries on the continent of Africa.
From the Haudenosaunee women who successfully challenged warfare in the 17th century, to today’s feminist organizers defending democracy, reproductive freedom and civil rights, the struggle for women’s equality has never been a straight line. It is a story of persistence, resistance and collective action spanning centuries.
Compiled by editors at Ms. and researchers from the National Women’s History Alliance, this women’s history timeline traces the interconnected histories of feminism, abolition, labor organizing, civil rights, reproductive justice, LGBTQ+ liberation and democratic participation.
No timeline can fully capture more than 400 years of feminist history, let alone every movement, leader, victory and setback that has shaped the ongoing fight for equality. Rather than offering a comprehensive account, this chronology highlights pivotal moments and turning points that help tell the story of how women have expanded the boundaries of freedom, democracy and human rights in the United States and beyond.
The timeline is part of Ms. magazine’s FEMINIST 250: Founding Feminists project, a multimedia essay series marking the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence by examining the women and feminist movements that have worked to make the nation’s founding promises more fully realized. Through reported features, essays, interviews and historical analysis, FEMINIST 250 explores not only where we have been, but where we must go next to achieve true equality.
FEMINIST 250’s Parts 2 and 3—Feminist Lessons and Feminist Futures—drop this month on MsMagazine.com.
There is no shortage of cases of torture in the headlines. Across today’s crises—from Ukraine to Sudan, Myanmar to Gaza—the allegations are graphic and devastating. But once a legal case closes or the news cycle moves on, another story begins: What happens to those who survive torture?
As U.N. special rapporteur on torture, I have met survivors around the world who carry its effects long after the physical wounds have healed. Survivors spoke to me about stigma, economic struggles, permanent disabilities, fractured relationships and the exhausting fight to be believed, gain access to care and secure justice. Too often, torture is treated as an event that ends when the abuse stops. That is far from survivors’ realities.
That is why survivors themselves helped create the first global Charter of Rights for Victims and Survivors of Torture and other cruelty—a framework demanding access to specialized healthcare, long-term psychological support, legal recognition, financial stability and meaningful involvement in shaping the laws and systems that affect their lives.
Around the world, escalating armed conflict, political repression and humanitarian collapse are reshaping daily life for women and girls—often with devastating consequences. From drone warfare in Sudan, to internet blackouts in Iran, to attacks on healthcare infrastructure in Lebanon and Gaza, women are navigating intensifying threats while also sustaining families, communities and survival networks under extraordinary strain. At the same time, women-led organizations and feminist movements confronting these crises increasingly face funding cuts, political repression and shrinking civic space even as demand for their work grows.
Globally, over 676 million women and girls live within 50 kilometers of armed conflict, representing about 17 percent of the female population. This staggering figure—a 74 percent increase since 2010—is tracked and analyzed by the Georgetown Institute for Women, Peace and Security in partnership with PRIO.
But we also know: Feminist movements around the world hold answers to some of the world’s most urgent crises. Ms. Global is taking note of feminists worldwide—and the gendered realities shaping conflict, displacement, political repression and survival.
In the weeks since the U.S. and Israel launched an attack on Iran, the conflict has not only generated massive humanitarian need—it has fractured the global aid system itself.
The renewed U.S. blockade of Iranian ports in the Strait of Hormuz marks a shift from fragile reopening to active restriction, choking already limited shipping routes and delaying the delivery of food, medicine and fuel.
Even before the blockade, many vessels avoided the strait amid fears of mines and retaliation; now, with access further constrained, the consequences are immediate and far-reaching.
As these disruptions compound, it is women and girls who continue to bear the heaviest burden when humanitarian systems break down.
The closure and continued instability of the Strait of Hormuz have sent shockwaves through global supply chains, driving up oil prices, inflating food costs and straining already underfunded aid operations. These economic shocks reverberate far beyond the region, deepening poverty and food insecurity in places where women already face structural disadvantage.
From rising fertilizer costs that threaten crop yields to surging prices for staple goods, the impacts land hardest on women—who are more likely to live in poverty, eat last in times of scarcity, and rely on fragile aid systems for survival.
As the war’s effects ripple outward, they do not simply linger; they intensify. Environmental damage, displacement and collapsing infrastructure are compounding crises that further erode access to clean water, healthcare and safety. For women and girls, these overlapping shocks mean increased exposure to violence, exploitation and long-term instability.
Without urgent efforts to secure humanitarian access and center the needs of women in response strategies, the consequences of this conflict will continue to deepen inequalities and entrench suffering well beyond the battlefield.
Over 30 years ago, world leaders came together in Beijing and made a promise: Gender equality would be a global standard, not a distant aspiration. This March, as the United Nations Commission on the Status of Women convenes for CSW70 under the theme of strengthening access to justice and eliminating discriminatory laws, that promise remains not only unfinished, but increasingly under coordinated assault.
Since 1999, Equality Now’s Words & Deeds reports have tracked laws and policies that discriminate against women and girls, documenting progress when legal reform has been achieved and holding governments accountable when words fail to translate into action.
Our new Words & Deeds update, Progress and Backlash: Accountability for the Rights of Women and Girls, shows that we are at a perilous moment of global regression in women’s rights. Across regions, protections once considered settled are being diluted, defunded and, in some cases, deliberately dismantled.
Centuries before the American Revolution, Spanish-speaking women crossed oceans and deserts to build communities whose legacies still shape the United States.
As anti-Latino sentiment coincides with the 250th anniversary of the United States, we must remember that long before the American Revolution, Spanish-speaking women inhabited territory that would become the United States.
Like their English Protestant counterparts in New England, Spanish-speaking women were founding mothers of our nation. Their legacies live on through their descendants and the many other Latinas who immigrated to the U.S. over the past 250 years. Faced with the widespread detention of Spanish-speaking women, it is crucial to remember that it has long been their country too.
(This essay is part of the FEMINIST 250: Founding Feminists series, marking the 250th anniversary of America by reclaiming the revolution through the women and gender-expansive people whose ideas, labor and resistance shaped U.S. democracy.)
Apartheid is the one Afrikaans word that the whole world knows. It is arguably South Africa’s greatest contribution to the development of international criminal law so far.
As a South African who lived under apartheid, I recognize the same architecture of systemic oppression in the Taliban’s rule over women in Afghanistan.
In the same way that Black people were excluded from spaces and services—“whites only” beaches and benches, for example, and entire suburbs—women in Afghanistan are excluded from public life. They are not permitted to travel outside their homes without a mahram, a close male relative. Authorities have instructed businesses and health clinics to refuse services to all women who are not accompanied by a mahram.
Afghanistan. Myanmar. Syria. The Democratic Republic of the Congo.
Over the last 80 years, there has rarely been a situation of atrocity that has not been marked by the commission of crimes against humanity. These crimes, defined by their widespread or systematic nature, target civilians and devastate societies.
Yet, while the international community has created legal regimes to address war crimes and genocide, we lack a global legal architecture for the prevention, suppression and punishment of crimes against humanity, leaving millions across the globe at risk and justice elusive for survivors.
The start of negotiations for such a treaty is not just overdue; it is of historic importance. Late last month, the United Nations General Assembly launched a four-year process to prepare for and negotiate a new global treaty to prevent and punish crimes against humanity by 2028. If it is crafted with ambition and resolve, it can be a game-changer for international accountability, strengthen the rules-based order and offer hope and justice to victims and survivors.
As barriers to clinic-based abortion care have increased in recent years, an increasing number of women are self-managing their abortions: finding and using abortion pills independently of the formal medical system. They are obtaining abortion pills through online abortion pill services, community networks sharing pills for free and websites selling pills.
To support self-managed abortion, feminists are creating a global network of online abortion doulas—trained companions who offer one-on-one support by phone, email and text to people using abortion pills. A leader in this effort is the organization Rouge Doulas, which runs the Rouge Abortion Doula School.