I've read both the articles. I enjoyed the Dawkins (I always do - he's a first rate writer, except when he gets overtaken by grumpy-old-mannishness). I found the other weirdly - weird. Again, I always do. There's something intoxicatingly sublime about the sheer chutzpah behind this kind of writing. You're reading it, and thinking "how do they get away with this?" all the way through. Apart from the straw manning, the outrageous inaccuracies ("female" emerging as a concept in 19C racism? Really?), the refusal to define or even characterise concepts, and the complete failure to reference any of the claims, there is an argument and evidence vacuum. Nothing outside the story.
And this is the aim. Destroy reason and argument construction by claiming that everything is stories, and everyone had a story, and all are equal. Except, of course, for the stories of the oppressor class, which are only there to disempower marginalised identities. They cannot therefore be a legitimate expression of identity. They are not "valid". "Valid" is another term which has lost any meaning.
I remember reading a pamphlet written by the Chinese American Peoples Friendship Organisation (or some such title) which was a far left Maoist organisation in the 60s or 70s. It argued that fallout from China's nuclear bomb could not harm the workers because it was not produced for profit, but for people. The US bomb, though, was produced by the capitalist west, and was lethal to the working class because capitalism is all about production for profit, not people. The Pomo attitude is the same thing. Same aims. Same utter lunacy. Same rejection of reason.
However, they have learned from the Maoists. The Maoists attempts to argue exposed them to ridicule. The current bunch realise that the best way to counter rational argument is to refuse to engage. Actually, it's the only way. So "no debate". As long as you shout your matras long and often enough, they will somehow transmogrify into reality.
There's a wonderful bit at the end of Vladimir Voinovich's "Private Ivan Chonkin" where the peasant's horse finally, though the enobling, developing power of Labour, turns into a human. Beautiful parody.