While women’s political representation has gradually improved across Europe, a deeper analysis reveals that progress has been unequal and often excludes those facing multiple forms of discrimination. Women who identify as LGBTQIA+, women of color, women with disabilities, and those from migrant or marginalized backgrounds still collide with systemic barriers limiting or precluding them from being committed and represented in political spaces. This intersectional reality demands urgent attention as Europe strives toward a truly inclusive democracy.
Understanding intersectionality in political context
Intersectionality, a concept coined by legal scholar Kimberlé Crenshaw, recognizes that individuals can experience multiple, overlapping forms of discrimination simultaneously. In the political sphere, this means that a disabled woman of color, for example, doesn’t simply face the sum of separate discriminations based on gender, race, and disability—she faces unique barriers that arise specifically from the intersection of these identities.
The European Parliament’s 2022 Report on Intersectional Discrimination acknowledges this complexity, noting that “intersectional forms of discrimination in EU anti-discrimination and gender equality legislation” require specific institutional responses rather than one-size-fits-all approaches.1
The current landscape
Representation gaps
Recent data from EU institutions reveals stark underrepresentation of women with intersectional identities in political leadership. According to the European Network Against Racism (ENAR), “migrant women, women with disabilities, or Roma women may be at a higher risk of systemic discrimination and tend to face additional barriers to political participation.“2
The Council of Europe’s Gender Matters initiative highlights that “studies have shown an absence of data and legal mechanisms capable of dealing with intersectional discrimination at European level,” indicating that the problem may be even more widespread than current statistics suggest.3
Specific barriers by identity
Research from the Royal Society of Chemistry reveals that members of the LGBTQIA+ community face significant barriers to political participation, with “those holding intersecting marginalized identities (e.g., women, disabled individuals) encountering compounded challenges in accessing political spaces.” These obstacles manifest through heightened visibility concerns, targeted harassment, and systematic exclusion from established political networks.4
Similarly, UN Women’s Intersectionality Resource Guide demonstrates how women and girls with disabilities navigate multiple barriers, including inadequate physical accessibility, communication obstacles, and pervasive stigma that undermines their perceived leadership capabilities.5
The convergence of gender and ethnicity presents additional complexities, as highlighted in policy research examining how these identities intersect with other forms of discrimination, including migrant status, to create unique challenges for political engagement.
Systemic barriers: how exclusion operates
When we look at European political institutions today, we’re essentially looking at systems that were built by and for a very specific group of people—predominantly white, male, able-bodied, and heterosexual individuals. This isn’t ancient history; it’s a legacy that continues to shape how politics operates across the continent, creating barriers that many of us don’t even notice unless we’re the ones trying to break through them.
Physical and cultural gatekeeping
Think about it: how many parliamentary buildings were designed with wheelchair accessibility in mind? How many committee rooms have proper acoustics for hearing aids? The Council of Europe’s 2025 report 6 reveals that many European parliaments still struggle with basic accessibility infrastructure. But it’s not just about ramps and elevators—it’s about communication methods, procedural norms, and the countless unwritten rules that assume everyone operates the same way.
Then there are cultural barriers that are perhaps even more insidious. Politics still operates largely through informal networks—those “old boys’ clubs” where real decisions get made over drinks or golf games. If you don’t fit the traditional mold, you’re not just excluded from these spaces; you might not even know they exist.
The economic reality check
Here’s something that doesn’t get talked about enough: politics is expensive, and not just in obvious ways. Sure, running campaigns costs money, but there’s also the expectation that you’ll work for free for years—unpaid internships, volunteer positions, self-funded networking events. This creates a system where only those with family wealth or existing professional networks can afford to build political careers. It’s a particularly cruel irony that the people who might most benefit from political change are often the ones least able to afford to pursue it.
The motherhood penalty in politics
Until recently, the notion that a pregnant politician might need accommodations for voting seemed almost revolutionary. It took years of persistent campaigning before the UK Parliament finally introduced proxy voting for parental leave in 2019. Even now, the European Parliament continues to operate without official parental leave recognition as of 2024.7 The message this sends is stark: becoming a mother shouldn’t interfere with your ability to represent constituents on crucial votes—yet that’s precisely the impossible choice many women politicians have been forced to make.
The COVID-19 pandemic threw these contradictions into sharp relief. When pregnant MPs were excluded from parliamentary business for safety reasons, the lack of adequate remote participation alternatives became glaringly obvious. As the Hansard Society 8 observed, this exclusion “undermines equality of political representation” in ways that would be considered unacceptable in virtually any other profession.
The devil, as they say, is in the details—and one detail perfectly encapsulates the broader problem: many European political institutions still lack appropriate private spaces for breastfeeding or pumping. This forces new mothers into an impossible bind between their political duties and their children’s most basic needs, a dilemma that male politicians will never encounter.
While politics is often touted as offering flexibility, reality tells a different story. Parliamentary schedules, with their late-night sessions and unpredictable voting times, create challenges for new mothers who depend on predictable routines for childcare and feeding. Unlike the corporate world, which has increasingly embraced family-friendly policies, political institutions rarely offer support services like emergency childcare or dedicated family spaces.
The career implications extend far beyond missed votes. Political success depends on continuous visibility and strategic networking—taking maternity leave means more than temporary absence from the chamber. It translates to lost opportunities, weakened political networks, and diminished influence within party hierarchies. When you factor in that political work’s irregular demands often require expensive, flexible childcare arrangements that receive no institutional support, the system effectively creates a financial penalty for parenthood that disproportionately impacts women’s political participation.
Women politicians, especially those from marginalized communities, face heightened security risks that institutional security protocols—designed primarily for male politicians—often inadequately address. Political institutions frequently lack adequate mechanisms to address gender-based harassment and violence, leaving women to navigate these challenges largely on their own.
What makes all of this particularly insidious is how these barriers compound. A woman with a disability who becomes pregnant while serving in office doesn’t just face one set of challenges—she faces all of them simultaneously, often without adequate institutional support for any of them.
The result is a political system that continues to reflect the demographics of its founders, not because it’s explicitly exclusionary, but because it’s structured in ways that make participation incredibly difficult for anyone who doesn’t fit the traditional profile.
Until we acknowledge and address these structural barriers, European politics will continue to be dominated by those who were always meant to be there.
Social and cultural factors
Intersectional stereotyping doesn’t just stack prejudices—it fuses them into entirely new forms of discrimination. A Black woman in politics faces not separate racial and gender biases, but a unique blend that questions her intelligence while labeling her assertiveness as “aggressive.” Women of color see their achievements dismissed as diversity hires, while they must constantly balance being “professional enough” for mainstream acceptance yet “authentic enough” for their communities—a tightrope walk their privileged counterparts never attempt.
The mansplaining phenomenon
Perhaps nowhere is condescension more institutionalized than in the political arena, where mansplaining becomes a weapon of marginalization. Women politicians, particularly those from marginalized communities, routinely face male colleagues who feel compelled to explain their own policy areas to them, interrupt their contributions, or dismiss their expertise. This isn’t mere rudeness—it’s a systematic undermining of authority that reinforces hierarchies. When a woman of color presents budget proposals, she’s more likely to have basic economic concepts explained to her by male colleagues with less relevant experience. The intersectional dimension amplifies this: the same woman faces assumptions that she needs guidance not just because she’s a woman, but because stereotypes about her race or background suggest she couldn’t possibly understand complex policy matters. This constant questioning of competence creates an exhausting dynamic where marginalized politicians must prove their basic qualifications repeatedly, while their privileged counterparts’ expertise is assumed.
The crushing weight of tokenism
When organizations include marginalized voices, empowerment becomes a burden. The “only one” in the room suddenly represents entire communities—your opinion becomes all women’s opinions; your perspective reflects the entire LGBTQIA+ experience. This creates impossible pressure: you must constantly prove your worthiness while showing gratitude for inclusion, and facing scrutiny that others never experience. Any mistake becomes evidence that diversity initiatives don’t work, rather than simple human error.
Intersectional violence
The harassment targeting women with multiple marginalized identities isn’t just more frequent—it’s qualitatively different. Online attacks weave together misogyny, racism, homophobia, and transphobia into particularly vicious harassment. Violence threats often carry sexual components, especially targeting women of color and LGBTQIA+ individuals. Law enforcement and support systems often fail to recognize this intersectional targeting, while existing hate crime legislation may not adequately cover harassment spanning multiple identities.
The chilling effect
This harassment serves a dual purpose: harming individuals while sending a clear message to others with similar identities that political participation comes with significant personal costs. The result is representation reduced through intimidation—potential candidates see what happens to people like them and decide the price is too high.
These mechanisms create what scholars call “intersectional invisibility”—individuals with multiple marginalized identities become simultaneously hyper-visible as targets, yet invisible as complex individuals with nuanced perspectives. They’re seen but not really seen, heard but not really heard, present but not really present in their full humanity.
This is how systems maintain themselves: not through explicit exclusion, but by making inclusion so difficult and costly that many choose not to participate, ensuring political landscapes continue reflecting those who built them rather than those they’re meant to serve.
The impact of exclusion
When significant portions of the population lack meaningful representation, democratic legitimacy suffers. Policies developed without diverse perspectives often fail to address the needs of marginalized communities, perpetuating cycles of exclusion. The ostracism of intersectional voices represents a massive loss of talent, experience, and innovative solutions. As research consistently shows, diverse leadership leads to better decision-making and more effective governance.
Furthermore, political exclusion reinforces broader social inequalities, as those most affected by discriminatory policies have the least influence over changing them.
The path to truly inclusive European democracy requires acknowledging and addressing the complex, intersectional barriers that continue to exclude many women from political participation. This isn’t simply about fairness—it’s about creating stronger, more representative, and more effective democratic institutions.
The time for incremental change has passed. Europe’s democratic future depends on embracing intersectional inclusion not as an add-on to existing systems, but as a fundamental reimagining of how political power is shared and exercised.
Disclaimer: Leading Change – Women in Politics for an Inclusive Future is part of the Mediterranean Youth in Action Transformative Narratives programme, implemented by the Anna Lindh Foundation. The programme serves as a platform for young influencers and digital content creators to create meaningful content and lead social media initiatives and awareness campaigns that highlight youth voices, strengthen media narratives, and promote intercultural dialogue across the Euro-Mediterranean region.
