It really ought to have been a red-letter day for Princess Diana of Themyscira, also known as Wonder ­Woman, when the 75-year-old comic-­book pioneer was unveiled on October 21 last year as the ­United Nations’ honorary ambassador for the empowerment of women and girls.
Until then, the superhero whose exploits have been in print every year bar one since 1941 had been enjoying a sparkling diamond anniversary. She had made her big-screen debut with a brief appearance in the film Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, and just two weeks earlier, the United States Postal Service had issued a set of stamps commemorating the iconic DC Comics superhero.
But then, in the presence of her human alter-egos, the actors ­Lynda Carter and Gal Gadot, protesters rose in the UN chamber and literally turned their backs on the proceedings in silent protest.
In a petition, UN staff expressed amazement that the organisation "was unable to find a real-life woman [who] would be able to champion the rights of all women on the issue of gender equality and … empowerment". It was "alarming and … disappointing" that the UN had picked a fictional character "with an overtly sexualised image … a white woman of impossible proportions [and] the epitome of a ‘pin-up’ girl".
Two months later, Wonder Woman was quietly dropped from the UN’s campaign. The furore did no harm to her career, though – indeed, this weekend’s release of the film ­Wonder ­Woman sees her headlining for the first time in a blockbuster set to make global box-office history. Well, not quite global, perhaps. This week, the film was banned in Lebanon – a country still technically at war with ­Israel – because its star, Gadot, is Israeli.
But that local difficulty aside, the furore at the UN highlighted Wonder Woman’s broader cultural flaw, by encapsulating the contradictions of a character hailed by some as a feminist icon, and by others as a disconcertingly sexist parody of womanhood.
Wonder Woman was the protégée of Dr William Moulton Marston, a psychology professor hired as a consultant in 1940 by All-American Publications, a comic-book publisher. Marston was himself a complex character, who advocated feminism while living with two women. Wonder Woman, Marston once wrote, "satisfies the subconscious, elaborately disguised desire of males to be mastered by a woman who loves them".
He probably meant well. There was, he believed, "great hope for this world [because] women will win" and "when women rule, there won’t be any more [war]". He conceived Wonder Woman to promote "a great movement now under way – the growth in the power of women". But when he was paired with 61-year-old artist Harry G Peter, the two men proceeded to create, in the words of Jill Lepore, author of the 2015 book The Secret History of ­Wonder Woman, "a scantily clad [and] divisive female icon", complete with "kinky boots … blue short shorts [and] a tight-fitting red halter top".
Regardless, it isn’t too far-fetched to suggest that, despite her controversial dress sense, as a woman never in need of rescue by any man, Wonder Woman may have paved the way for the more modestly attired Muslim superheroes who have emerged more recently – characters such as ­Marvel’s Sooraya Qadir, alias Dust, an Afghan recruit to the X-Men; and the Pakistan-made, Peabody Award-winning Burka Avenger, who in the words of US news site Mic, "fights crime, much of it gender-based, by owning what many see as a symbol of suppression".

Source: The National