It feels like deaf people are involved in politics in parliaments in almost all European countries – but where exactly? What stands out? What could be the reason for this? We did extensive research for this article and came across some striking things. But let’s start with the Soviet Union, where there were two unusual examples that didn’t quite fit in with our research, which we want to use as an introduction.
Both went deaf later in life, so do not actually count as culturally deaf and most likely weren’t not sign language users either – but interesting nonetheless.
Only Nestor Lakoba, the head of state of Abkhazia, was already deaf during his time in office and was jokingly called ‘the deaf one’ by Josef Stalin. Andrey Andreyevich Andreyev, on the other hand, was involved in Stalin’s reign of terror in the 1930s, known as the ‘Great Terror’, and went deaf very late in life – he also cited his deafness as the reason why he wanted to retire from political work. He is said to have been the only functionary of Stalin’s regime to leave office alive. Naturally, there was no reference to sign language here.
After that, there were only two deaf men who made a career as politicians in the second half of the 20th century, one of whom was deaf at the very late age of 45, but who nevertheless campaigned for disability rights and against domestic violence: Jack Ashley, Baron Ashley of Stoke in Great Britain. Gary Malkowski, who was the first deaf politician in Canada, was also the first ever to address a parliament in sign language. He was in office from 1990 to 1995.
In 1999, Wilma Newhoudt-Druchen became the first Deaf parliamentarian in South Africa, remaining active until 2024. She was the first Deaf woman to be elected to parliament. She was educated in Gallaudet and was on the board of the World Federation of the Deaf (WFD). Her party was the anti-apartheid party ANC, of which Nelson Mandela was also a member.
From the naughts onwards, politics was also primarily characterised by women: Sigurlín Margrét was the first European Deaf politician in parliament, albeit briefly, in 2003. Even after that, deaf politics was very European-dominated: Helga Stevens was elected to the Belgian Parliament in 2004 and ten years later to the European Parliament, where she even became Vice-President of the European Conservatives and Reformists (ECR) group and also Chair of the Disabled People’s Group in the European Parliament. The ECR even proposed her for President of the European Parliament, but was unsuccessful.
After there had been very few deaf people in parliaments in the 20th century, in Greece, Dimitra Arapoglou from the very right-wing Popular Orthodox Party entered parliament in 2007, stayed for two years and then left again. In Austria, on the other side of the left-wing conservative spectrum of the Green Party, Helene Jarmer became a model politician who also chaired the Austrian Association of the Deaf. In Hungary, on the other hand, two politicians from the more right-wing Fidesz party, to which the (hearing) Viktor Orban also belongs, came to power. Adam Kosa makes history as the first deaf politician in the EU Parliament, while his party colleague Gergely Tapolczal later voted in favour of homophobic legislation and subsequently resigns from his position on the board of the European Union of the Deaf following protests from the LGTBQ* communities in the deaf community.
Even deaf politicians are not immune to scandals, with men being the most notorious. Chris Haulmark is active at regional level in the US state of Kansas in 2018 and wanted to become a member of the state parliament there. When three deaf women levelled allegations of domestic violence against him, the Democrats withdrew their support. He did not win the election. Incidentally, there were no Deaf politicians at federal level in the USA after 2000, as in other countries on the continent. The situation is similar in Asia and Africa – with the exception of South Africa. There seems to be a concentration on the European continent.
Why so many politically active deaf people in Europe? Question: What prevents them from participating in politics elsewhere? That would be an interesting research question, but it is clear that there is obviously a great imbalance. Perhaps the strong accessibility laws in the USA enable greater self-realisation outside of politics? What becomes particularly clear here is how little is known about regional and national differences.
Even though in many cases the news in almost every country shows interpreters in sign languages, the question is how political education takes place in general, acoustically written or also in sign languages? Sign language use can be found in regional parliaments. There are reports from Japan, for example, where written interpreting is used. Another obstacle is that the press, which reports on deaf issues, can never categorise whether a person is culturally deaf or only medically deaf. When two women made it into a local parliament in Japan, speech recognition software was used to foster accessibility, which can mean two things: Either they are only medically deaf or the early language support they received was so good that they grew up perfectly bilingual.
By way of comparison, there are many more people from North America in another professional field where a lot also depends on communication: in film and television, almost all deaf people are from the USA. The USA is certainly an important film country with Hollywood, but the different weighting is nevertheless fascinating. Could it be that sign language is valued more from a cultural perspective in the USA and more from a political perspective in Europe?
Even though in politics it is democratically decided who gets a job, relationships are important here, just as they are in film. What is a hindrance in both cases are the financial hurdles: Entry-level positions in local politics, for example, are often unpaid, as is voluntary work in the party. When Martin Vahemäe-Zierold fought his way into a local parliament in Berlin, he faced the difficulty that interpreting was not financed. Similarly, Julia Probst had to clarify the assumption of costs for her role as an elected city councillor in Bavaria. In Germany, interpreting services are often still linked to gainful employment and are regulated in a very complicated way, at least in employment and voluntary work.
Heike Heubach’s surprising entry into the Bundestag as a successor showed that things can be done differently. During the election campaign, she was still reliant on creative ideas and travelled around with an iPad with a prepared video to win votes. When she then moved up into the Bundestag shortly before the new elections because a party colleague resigned, she was immediately provided with interpreters. This was probably partly due to the fact that the Bundestag had a language service anyway and the Commissioner for the Disabled had recently employed a sign language officer. In regular working life, she would have had to organise her interpreters herself and also have had to submit an application first. The approval procedure takes six months, depending on the federal state. She was therefore very surprised when her employer, the Bundestag, contacted her in advance about the measures she required to do her work, and promptly setting everything up well in advance.
As she was already a member of the Bundestag for the new election campaign, she could simply use her interpreters for this. This is how it should actually be on the way through the party hierarchy, but it is not. So the same applies here: prove yourself first – or be lucky – and you’ll get interpreters.
Author: Wille Felix Zante (manua)