Jackie Medley has spent more than five years campaigning for women to have equal rights within the workingmen's club movement. She tells Women's Editor Lindsay Jennings why she has stopped fighting.

TO Jackie Medley, the framed Club and Institute Union (CIU) certificate says it all. She props her diploma in club management against the fireplace in her neat living room, shakes her head and laughs.

'This diploma was awarded to Jackie Medley of Bishopthorpe Social Club,' it reads, 'and certifies that he has passed the union examination in clubs and management accountancy.' "HE has passed," she cries. "That is the kind of thing you're up against."

Jackie, 59, loves "clubland". Her father was a member of his local workingmen's club and her uncles were all members and past presidents. It may be hard for some to understand the appeal, but like four million members across the country - more than 500,000 of them women - Jackie loves the camaraderie, the entertainment, the cheap drinks and the friendly atmosphere. It's a way of life, she explains.

Bishopthorpe Social Club, near York, Jackie and husband Graham's local, is one of the more forward-thinking clubs. A financially independent ladies section began at Bishopthorpe more than 25 years ago and a few years later women were accepted as full members. It meant they could go to the bar and get their own drinks; they could walk into a club without the gentleman having to sign them in and they could sit on the committee. Jackie took an active role and was approached to become its secretary at the end of 2000.

"My ambition was simply to slowly bring our club up to date a bit," she explains. "Even though our ladies did a lot over the years, like making curtains and organising events for Christmas and Halloween, when I was asked to become secretary I said I would do it on the condition that things were done properly."

By "properly", Jackie meant taking the CIU diploma covering law and accountancy. She passed with honours and came second in the country for law. She was also asked to be a tutor for other secretaries under the York city branch.

"It was a complicated job," she says. "My aim was to get the membership up and we did. It went up from 340 in the first year to 500 and we encouraged women to join on their own. When the issue came up about ladies getting associate membership I took the bull by the horns."

The bull in this case was one of the last bastions of male chauvinism. The CIU's Rule 12(e) states that associate and pass cards may not be issued to lady members. Although Jackie was needed to give tutorials at other clubs around York, under the rule she could only be signed into the clubs by a man. She was not allowed to attend the CIU annual conference or if she wanted to drink in a workingmen's club while on holiday, husband Graham as an associate member would have to sign her in. Nor could women enter CIU sponsored games events.

But it was after talking to John Bacon, a WMC member from Richmond, that her thoughts turned to scrapping the rule. With his encouragement, the pair set the wheels in motion for a battle with the CIU.

"I really believe in the institution of the CIU because they do protect clubs," says Jackie. "But all I wanted was to be an associate member so that when I visited clubs as a secretary I could enter in my own right. Then of course it got to the stage where we were doing this thing properly."

Under the Sexual Discrimination Act, Jackie and John won the right to a full hearing of their case at an Employment Appeal Tribunal in London, following a successful hearing in Leeds. The pair lined up against the powerful CIU barristers and, as a result of John's meticulous research, made a good case.

But they lost. The CIU was not in breach of the Sexual Discrimination Act because private members' clubs are excluded from the legislation. Mr Justice Burton told the court that the law was narrowly constructed and added: "I hope that this is not the end of the story."

Jackie laughs cynically at the recollection. "The judge was saying 'This is blatant sexual discrimination' but that they couldn't find a way out of it because the CIU had covered themselves in so many different ways.

"It was not a campaign to get rid of men-only clubs, it was not a campaign to get rid of men-only bars, it was a campaign where the clubs who have been forward-thinking and have accepted ladies in as full members would also be entitled for them to be issued with an associate membership."

And the CIU could certainly do with an additional income. Its main source of income is the sale of pass cards and the union has been struggling financially for years, with scores of clubs facing closure across the country.

After the disappointment of the London tribunal, Jackie and John took their fight to the CIU annual conference at Blackpool in April. Of course as a woman, Jackie was not allowed to enter the room, so she sat in a caf outside the Winter Gardens and waited nervously for the members to vote on the motion moved by a member of the National Executive, Baden Tucker, of the Monmouthshire branch. They needed a two-thirds majority, and narrowly missed out with a majority of 63 per cent.

"I just felt total disbelief, we were all devastated," she recalls.

"We drove home in total silence. I'd been home half an hour when John rang me and said 'Pick yourself up, we haven't finished yet'. But the sting had gone out of it for me."

For its part, the union has previously stated that it has been trying for a number of years to persuade the clubs to change the constitution.

Perhaps Jackie could have chained herself to the railings in protest or donned a Batman suit - or more appropriately a Wonderwoman suit - and dangled off Middlesbrough's Transporter Bridge?

"Oh NO!" she cries, putting her hands over her face in horror. "I'm not that type of person. I've just been of the belief that if you feel strongly about something and you feel it could be changed for the benefit of others, then you should do something about it."

But she admits that the fight is now over for her. She has resigned as Bishopthorpe's secretary after taking more hours as a post office counters' assistant. At a party at the club to celebrate her 40th wedding anniversary recently she was asked three times if she would take her job back, but she says she has had enough of the "hassle". She understands that John may go on to fight the case in Europe, and there is always the next annual conference of the CIU where women and associate membership will no doubt be on the agenda again. But it will be someone else's battle.

"Ten years from now, the CIU won't exist if it doesn't move on," she says in her straight-talking Yorkshire way. "I've been brought up in clubland all my life. It is an institution and I was just trying to preserve it. I never believed women should be better, only that we should be equal."

She pauses, and smiles. "I'm not the kind of person who was into burning bras, but I like to think I got a point across."