Written by : Mara Matilda Munteanu
Edited by: Bérénice Louveau
Once a radical challenge to patriarchal power structures, “feminist foreign policy” (FFP) has now become diplomatic shorthand for progressiveness, a label which many states eagerly adopted, though only a few embodied. From Sweden’s 2014 declaration to the subsequent adoptions of FFP frameworks by Canada, France, Germany, and Mexico, governments have adopted the language of gender equality as a symbol of modern legitimacy. The concept promises to transform international relations by focusing on women’s rights, inclusion, and peacebuilding; yet, as FFP gained popularity, its essence and political sustainability began to wane. Behind the polished rhetoric of empowerment lies a troubling paradox: feminism, once a language of resistance, is increasingly instrumentalized to serve state interests and reproduce global hierarchies.
At its core, feminist foreign policy emerged from the conviction that diplomacy should challenge patriarchal and militarized notions of security. Early advocates envisioned an approach grounded in cooperation, disarmament, and human security rather than dominance. Nevertheless, the very institutions that now champion FFP remain embedded in the power structures that feminism sought to dismantle to begin with. As a result, when governments deploy feminist language to justify policies that perpetuate violence or inequality, they transform feminism into a soft-power tool rather than a transformative strategy.
Sweden’s so-called “feminist” foreign policy exemplifies how progressive rhetoric can coexist with deeply contradictory practice. While its policy framework emphasized women’s participation and protection, Sweden simultaneously maintained robust arms exports to Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates, which represent two states implicated in gender-based repression and the Yemen Conflict. This dissonance between principle and practice highlights the limitations of feminist foreign policy when it remains deeply entwined with national and economic interests. On the other hand, France’s self-proclaimed ‘diplomatie féministe’ coexists with restrictive asylum policies that disproportionately harm migrant women and reveal how easily the language of feminism can be used to sanitize exclusionary agendas.
Unfortunately, the problem extends beyond hypocrisy. Western states often frame women’s rights as justification for military intervention or geopolitical influence, thus making feminism a civilizing mission. The U.S. invocation of women’s liberation to rationalize the war in Afghanistan is a stark example: the discourse of protection masked the realities of occupation and violence, instrumentalizing Afghan women’s suffering for strategic ends. As feminist scholar Lila Abu-Lughod explains in Do Muslim Women (Still) Need Saving?, the trope of “saving” women often reinforces the very hierarchies that FFP wished to dismantle, placing Western actors as arbiters.
A genuinely feminist foreign policy would demand far more than balanced photo-ops or diversity statements. It would redefine what counts as “security” by prioritizing care, justice, and ecological sustainability over militarization and economic dominance. The goal of a redefined FFP would be to shift resources from arms production to education, healthcare, and peacebuilding. Further, it would amplify the voices from those most marginalized, such as Indigenous people, Queer activists, and everyone living under occupation, rather than positioning Western actors as saviours. Lastly, a successful FFP would hold governments accountable for their trade practices, immigration policies, and climate policies that impact women and marginalized communities worldwide.
To reclaim the transformative potential of feminism in diplomacy, we must resist its commodification. While hashtags like #FeministForeignPolicy or #SheLeads can raise awareness, without substantive policy change, hashtags alone risk becoming branding exercises for states seeking moral legitimacy, making feminism in diplomacy seem performative. The task ahead is not to abandon the idea of FFP, but to radicalize it, and to reconnect it with the anti-hierarchical, intersectional roots that made it powerful in the first place. Until this change can be implemented, feminist foreign policy remains trapped between aspiration and appropriation: a promising idea constrained by the very hegemony it seeks to challenge. The future of feminist diplomacy will depend on whether governments are willing to move beyond rhetoric and embrace the uncomfortable truth that true equality requires dismantling the structures of power.