ERA Marches On To Another Loss

It falls two votes short

A dozen cheerleaders stamped their white boots and chanted: "Ratify the ERA, we shall not be moved!" Familiar feminist leaders--Bella Abzug, Betty Friedan and Gloria Steinem noteworthy among them--led some 50,000 men, women and children, most wearing white, to symbolize their spiritual ties with the suffragists,* down Chicago's Columbus Drive and into Grant Park. There the crowd cheered heartily as Mayor Jane Byrne declared, "It's time that we women of Illinois were looking at the legislature and saying, 'Why not?' "

It was one of the largest rallies ever for the Equal Rights Amendment. Since the ERA was approved by Congress in 1972, it has been ratified by 35 states, but the last was Indiana in January 1977. Feminists and their allies have only until June 1982 to win the three additional states needed.

Illinois is the only major industrial state that has not ratified; the pro-ERA forces believe that they must make a breakthrough there. Beginning late last year, the National Organization for Women waged a campaign comparable to the efforts of a presidential candidate in a must-win primary state. NOW opened field operations in all 59 state legislative districts and created 130 ten-member "action teams" to sponsor pro-ERA meetings.

On Tuesday, three days after the Chicago mass rally, President Carter and Mayor Byrne phoned several state representatives, urging them to support the amendment, which was scheduled for a showdown vote in the house later in the week. Republican Governor James Thompson summoned some anti-ERA legislators to his bedside, where he was recuperating from a strained back, and asked them to reconsider. The feminists and their supporters, including six busloads of burly male Steel workers, roamed the halls of the statehouse in Springfield. Lois Anne Rosen of Chicago collared her hapless representative, Robert Krska, in the corridor and demanded: "How can you be an American and be against equality?" In a weak attempt at humor, Krska mumbled, "Maybe we shouldn't have given you the vote," and then slipped away through the back hallways.

ERA foes were also active. Organized by Phyllis Schlafly of Alton, Ill., a conservative Republican and the leading opponent of the ERA, they passed out home-baked bread to legislators, symbolizing the wifely services they contend are threatened by the amendment. Schlafly warned that the ERA would lead to the drafting of women. Said she: "We do not want our daughters treated like men or like sex playmates in the armed forces." On Wednesday, ERA supporters streamed into the statehouse at 6 a.m. to bear witness to the vote. For over ten hours they waited. And waited. And waited some more, while behind the scenes the number of representatives backing the ERA slowly climbed from 98 to 105. Then at 4:30 p.m. came the ultimate letdown: one of the amendment's sponsors, North Chicago Democrat John Matijevich, announced that the vote would be postponed indefinitely. The reason: the ERA forces were still two votes short of the three-fifths majority required for passage. Some lawmakers had decided that a vote for ERA was too risky. Said one of them: "If there were a secret vote, it would pass. I know the antis will come out and vote against me, but the pros won't come out for me."

After the postponement came a round of partisan name calling on the house floor that raised doubts about whether ERA supporters could ever get the crucial two votes. Matijevich angrily accused Thompson of having "provided virtually nothing." Republican representatives booed noisily. The next day, Thomas Hanahan, a Democrat from rural McHenry, who once described feminists as "braless, brainless broads," accused ERA supporters of attempting to bribe waffling legislators with offers of big campaign contributions; he provided no evidence. Proponents accused him, in turn, of trying to frighten fence sitters into opposing the amendment.

In any case, the vote is off until ERA sponsors think that they have enough support for passage. That could be later in the legislative session, which ends June 30. Or maybe next year. Or maybe never.

*When marching for the right to vote, which they won in 1920, the suffragists usually wore white.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.