Red Lips High Heels – Page 17 – Gender in the Middle East

De l'impensable au pensable

dr-pamela-chrabieh — Dr. Pamela Chrabieh

Le Liban est un pays diversifié, mais le Québec l’est encore plus, du moins en ce qui concerne les diversités religieuse et ethnique, des croyances et des pratiques. C’est à Montréal que je rencontrais pour la première fois des féministes de toutes tendances et approches : juives, musulmanes, hindoues, bouddhistes, bahaïes, vodouisantes, sorcières, agnostiques, athées, etc. ; des féministes de droite et de gauche, de celles qui rêvent du matriarcat à celles qui militent pour un partenariat équitable ; des hétérosexuelles, lesbiennes, bisexuelles, Queer, et j’en passe… Dans la province de l’érable, de la poutine et de la francophonie nord-américaine, il y a des femmes qui parlent aisément de tout – politique, problèmes de société, environnement, religions, sexualité, … -, qui sont députées et premières ministres, directrices, doyennes, femmes d’entreprise, et femmes au foyer ; des femmes qui partagent leurs histoires et points de vue en s’affranchissant de la honte et de la peur.

Il est évident qu’on trouve au Liban des lieux de liberté d’expression et des pensées/pratiques non-discriminatoires, ainsi qu’une histoire de plusieurs millénaires chargée d’exemples de femmes aux rôles et compétences multiples, et il est évident que je ne cherche pas à dire que le Québec est l’incarnation même de la perfection des rapports entre les genres, ni que le Liban est celle de l’oppression… Le féminisme, en tant que pensée et pratique, je le connus avec ma mère, et à travers ma lecture d’innombrables ouvrages historiques et archéologiques traitant d’anciennes cultures et religions de l’Asie de l’Ouest ; je le connus aussi en m’abreuvant aux œuvres de femmes arabes artistes, poétesses, romancières, académiciennes,… et en militant pour les droits humains au sein d’organismes non-gouvernementaux locaux entre le milieu et la fin des années 90 du siècle dernier. Toutefois, c’est au Québec que je fus introduite au féminisme en tant que mouvement socio-politique interculturel et interreligieux, aux théologies féministes, et à la fameuse pièce de théâtre d’Eve Ensler, « Les Monologues du Vagin » – non censurée !

Ce mot, d’ailleurs, provoque encore l’angoisse et le dégoût chez bien de femmes au Liban. Peut-être parce qu’il fut approprié par des hommes qui le transformèrent en injure ou objet de fantasme… Or, dire le mot ‘Vagin’ en libanais (‘Kess’), dépourvu de toute connotation négative, constitue la première étape de la reconnaissance de la sexualité au féminin, de la pensée et de l’agir au féminin, de l’appropriation du corps des femmes par les femmes, de l’être femme par les femmes. Tant que ce mot (et bien d’autres encore) est utilisé à tort et à travers, tant qu’il est manipulé, surtout pour clamer haut et fort la faiblesse des femmes et leur obligation de soumission, tant que l’impensable accompagne ce mot, on ne peut être surpris de la prolifération de la violence perpétrée à l’encontre des femmes.

L’objectif n’est pas de dire les mots ‘tabous’ tout simplement pour les dire, mais de déconstruire les préjugés et la censure, et penser ces mots ‘autrement’… de les rendre ‘pensables’, de les redire, et d’agir en conséquence. En ce sens, il est impératif de désapprendre ce que nous avons appris au sein de systèmes d’exclusion mutuelle. Il est urgent de comprendre le pourquoi et le comment des choses, de problématiser le canevas épistémologique articulant chaque discours, d’analyser les régimes de vérité à la base de la construction du savoir, d’entreprendre – en utilisant les termes de Muhammad Arkoun – « une archéologie des discours sédimentés et des évidences sclérosées » qui légitiment les volontés de puissance de groupes sociaux en compétition pour l’hégémonie. Il est plus qu’urgent de transgresser les terminologies et concepts dits ‘immuables’ et ‘absolus’, d’interroger la réalité vécue et de pratiquer l’ijtihad (effort d’interprétation) au sein d’un mouvement de renouveau (tajdid) et de réforme (islah). Car plus que la déconstruction, la reconstruction est de rigueur.

Vagin n’est pas un mot ‘sale’. Il n’est pas ce qui définit une femme, ni la faiblesse physique/mentale (je réfère ici au fameux dicton populaire libanais : ‘ne sois pas un vagin’ (ma tkoun kess) – ‘sois un homme’). Il fait partie de l’être femme, lequel est parfois épanoui – un être qui chante sa liberté -, mais dans bien des cas est violé, tant physiquement que psychologiquement. Etre femme, c’est d’être humain, le fruit d’un regard sur soi et sur l’autre, dénué de tout projet d’autojustification et de complaisance dans des poncifs convenus ; c’est de se situer dans une dynamique de critique et d’autocritique constructrices, ces deux facettes de la pensée dialectique qui vont de pair. Il n’est d’ailleurs aucune moisson possible sans ce double effort, vers l’intérieur puisqu’on refuse la mortification, et vers l’extérieur, en vue du dialogue, du partage équitable et de la convivialité – une double moisson qui permet de survivre, de vivre, d’avoir du plaisir et de donner la vie.

Eternels vagabonds…

Suite à l’incendie criminel de la librairie Saeh à Tripoli au Nord du Liban, je partage ici un passage de mon livre ‘A la rencontre de l’Islam’ (Médiaspaul, Montréal, 2006, p.29):

“Je regarde le ciel et je cherche une réponse,

à la violence perpétuelle,

au lynchage de mon peuple,

Aucun signe, aucune lueur…

Dieu aurait-il clos les portes de son royaume?

Lui le créateur, le miséricordieux, le sauveur,

serait-il las des viols, meurtres et génocides?

Serait-il dans le camp des oppresseurs?

Je regarde le ciel et je cherche une réponse,

à l’humiliation, à l’écrasement, à la souffrance.

La croix et le croissant s’affrontent,

les croix s’affrontent entre elles,

les croissants s’affrontent entre eux,

et les autres ajoutent du bois au feu.

Je regarde le ciel, je prie, j’implore,

je conjure, impuissante…

Un cortège de démons,

le désespoir me ronge,

c’est le feu de la Géhenne,

le même feu qui dévore et que l’on ne distingue point.

Délivrez (vrons) -nous de nos rêves d’horreur,

de la terreur qui sévit et qui ne nous quitte point,

du supplice lancinant, soudain,

de la violence, du pouvoir, des forces du commun,

de la bassesse, des méprises de quelques-uns,

de l’étau qui se resserre sur notre chemin…

Une tenaille, un piège, un cercle désenchanté,

l’amour n’est qu’étranger,

et nous restons égarés,

éternels vagabonds,

pensées en confusion…”

Why not an "Emergency State" in Lebanon?

What happens when a society no longer knows the meaning of an Emergency State?A�It seems that this is what we have come to.

Another news about an explosion blasting a certain area and the usual happens: we spend the first 10 minutes in disbelief and panic, we shift from one local TV channel to the other, we surf the net and try and get faster information, we make phone calls and send messages to family and friends to make sure they are safe, we panic a little more because the lines are either busy or there is no connection. And we keep on watching the news (can it still be called news?!), watching the politiciansa�� reactions (the usual condemnation of the situation), learning if it was an assassination attempt (failed or successful), and, waiting for the body count of injured and a�?martyrsa�? to rise…

This sounds like a very bad cycle that we have gotten accustomed to. We are waiting for the next explosion and doing the same routine from A to Z all over again. And in the meantime we are living, or actually we are merely existing. We are letting life pass us by as we wait for the next disaster. And we count down every time.

Mothers get worried; they tell us to always keep our phones with us, just in case. We get worried as well, when we know friends are near whichever area was the lucky one with the last terror attack. And then, we are careful for a day or two, our parents tell us to be careful and I actually wonder: how can we be careful when these attacks are random and not aimed at a specific group of people? Sometimes they are assassinations, sometimes they are simply to terrorize people; either way we may know who are threatened but we cannot know the areas under attack. We could stay home, and if home happens to be a target area it is just as unsafe as the streets are. But how have we gotten used to all of this? Abroad, if there is an explosion people panic, they feel fear, people stand up and try to fight back, asking for a solution and demanding an answer. While all we do is grief, and, we have been grieving since the civil war…

How many of us know what an emergency state is? a�?A government can declare a state of emergency during a time of natural or man-made disaster, during a period of civil unrest, or following a declaration of war or situation of international/internal armed conflict.a�?

The better fitting question is: what government?

In the Land of Martyrdom?

martyrs-lebanon — Martyrs’ Square, Downtown Beirut, Lebanon

Following the latest blasts in Beirut-Lebanon – just before New Year’s celebration, and this afternoon -, and every explosion since 2005, one can easily notice the use (and misuse) of the word ‘martyr’. According to many journalists, political sciences experts and clergymen, victims of such attacks are labeled ‘martyrs’ (shuhada’), and Lebanon ‘the Land of Martyrdom’.

Lebanon recognizes three religions having an explicit ideal of martyrdom: Judaism, Christianity and Islam. From the story of Abraham and Isaac, to Daniel and the Maccabean rebellion, martyrdom is preferred to three transgressions according to the Jewish tradition: idolatry, sexual immorality and murder. Martyrs are honored ‘askedoshim’ (the holy ones) and martyrdom is considered by many rabbis to be the distinguishing quality of Jewish people. In current Jewish literature, victims of the Holocaust are regarded as martyrs since they died for the sole reason of being Jews.

In Christianity, the word ‘martyr’ in the New Testament means ‘witness’ – interpreted by the first Christians: ‘to one’s faith, unto death!’ (Acts 22:20 and Revelation 2:13). The disciples of Christ were no ordinary witnesses. They were brought face to face daily, from the beginning of their apostolate, with the possibility of incurring severe punishment and even death itself, but their suffering was to be exchanged for the reward of a bright and eternal honor in heaven. The second-century theologian Tertullian famously declared, “The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church”. In the sporadic persecutions of the first centuries C.E., martyrs were highly regarded by Christians (their relics ‘more valuable than gold or precious stones).

The Islamic designation of shahid (witness) does not explicitly appear in the Qur’an (as ‘witness unto death’) – but it does receive treatment in the Hadith literature, in which it is stated that martyrs stand nearest the throne of God. There are two groups of shuhada’ (martyrs): those killed in holy wars, and those killed unjustly – and informally anyone who dies in a pitiable manner. For Shia, Imam Husain ibn Ali is the martyr par excellence, and most of them are proud to acclaim the sacrifices of their spiritual/political leaders and fighters. In recent times, Islamic martyrdom has become associated with suicide missions conducted by extremists. However, this type of martyrdom is very different from the classical definition which condemns suicide.

Defining martyrdom is a difficult task, especially in the Lebanese context, where ideologies, beliefs and practices are often different. I do not agree with those who see Lebanon as the land of martyrdom. Lebanese martyrs do exist, across all political parties and sectarian branches, but not all deaths are meaningful, nor are all deaths chosen. I learnt that the martyr cannot be a helpless victim of happenstance. Martyrdom assigns meaning to death (a noble cause). It is an act of choice (the martyr must possess choice and must elect to die) and purpose that can be remembered, treasured and emulated by later generations. The martyr attempts to change the power and moral structure of society, and poses questions of motivation that lie outside both history and sociology. But even here the denominator in all martyrdoms is discredited by controversy over what constitutes nobility and blurred by the inclusion of prolonged suffering that may not end in death.

Furthermore, imposing upon the ‘true’ martyr a voluntary death that contributes to the success of the cause severely limits the number of candidates and opens up a minefield of debate: should political leaders, who appear in a multitude of martyrologies, be excluded because they did not consciously elect to die? Can the term martyr be applied, as it has been done lately following suicide bombers attacks and blasts of all kinds, to the civilians who suffered unspeakably and were slaughtered, but did not choose their fate? Should those who die for ‘their private relations with God’ – seeking refuge in heaven -, thus for individual interests, be acclaimed martyrs? Let us not forget that the willingness to die can easily slide into a death wish that is indistinguishable from suicide. Early church fathers like Clement of Alexandria were deeply worried lest the hysteria of mass suicidal martyrdom undermine the psychological impact of the true martyr. Likewise, with the delights of paradise so overwhelming, many Muslim jurists, however, cautioned that no one is allowed to desire martyrdom; one can only wish for the strength to endure the pain of wounds should they be inflicted upon one’s body. Also, many psychologists have argued that martyrs are deeply disturbed men and women devoured by their obsession – hints of paranoia, masochism and manic depression have been observed. However, one cannot forget how totalitarian regimes attack martyrs’ individuality and exceptionality, dismissing them as social deviants in need of rehabilitation, or incarcerate free-thinking healthy people in madhouses.

Last but not least, Lebanese do not all agree on the importance of martyrdom. I regularly ask my university students if they would sacrifice themselves for the sake of their faith, or their country, but most of them prefer obtaining a visa for Europe, North America or the United Arab Emirates. They do not distinguish martyrdom from idiotic folly, or simply do not want to become martyrs. Their motto is: ‘I want to live’ (badde ‘ich), and by ‘living’ they mean: no war, but also, no sacrifice, no suffering. ‘Living’ becomes synonymous with ‘getting what we want with zero or minimum risk’, ‘we do not mind surrendering or assimilating’, and ‘no death counts for life’. But how can there be a revolution and social-political reforms when young people are divided between those who are eager to kill, those who claim they have become ‘crocodiles’ (tamssahna) or ostriches, and those who would rather escape? How can there be a nation when ‘it is easy to kill and be killed’, and ‘what is hard is to make one’s death count for life’? (Erik Erikson 1969, p. 197, quoting Mahatma Ghandi).

Double Standards

When did weight become a national conversation?

I have been living in Canada for the past 10 years, having left Lebanon when I was 25. Three months ago I decided to come back and give Lebanon another try.

Ever since the first day I arrived in Lebanon, I was shocked to realize that all that people had to talk about was diets, weight, light food (or the lack thereof), how much weight I had gained/lost.

I mean, I am invited to dinner and immediately family members I haven’t seen for 10 years will say things like: you look fat, you should diet, wow, in spite of your weight you look good.

And if only this was only between family members! Everyone feels entitled to comment on my body. Friends would ask about my food habits, at every dinner I am invited to, the conversation would be automatically steered on diets… like a cruise control for conversations…

I had a business meeting for a potential photo exhibit and the first thing that was said to me was “first things first. If you are having a photo exhibit here you must lose 15 kilos.” I mean, really?

Today I had lunch with friends in a restaurant. I was starving and ordered 4 meet kebabs and the waiter felt obliged to comment with a “these will be just for you?!”

After a meeting to organize a hiking trip, someone said that I didn’t look like the kind of person who would be able to walk for long (really? Come and feel my thighs!).

These are but very few episodes of daily comments and incidents of the past two and a half months here.

So I can’t help but notice that the weight issue has become a social psychosis of the Lebanese people.

If only budget and environmental and social issues were discussed with the same passion!

From the taxi driver to the waiter who will comment on what you order, from the sales person in a clothes shop who will dismiss you in a second with a we-don’t-have-your-size-here look, to family members, from friends and acquaintances to people met for the first time who will not have a problem looking at you from head to toe and say “you should diet”.

Don’t get me wrong. I was having this conversation with an super feminine Spanish woman in Montreal a few months ago and she thought I was criticizing women who take care of themselves.

I myself am the first one to want to be dressed fashionably, to want to do some sports just to stay fit when I hit my forties (not so far away). I love taking care of and pampering myself. If this is your definition of femininity, than count me a member of that club.

Of course, ad campaigns, TV commercials, movies, series (with stars growing ever younger), movies, etc. have a major impact on all of us and affect the way we see beauty. The effect ripples through different societies, in all part of the world, and take on many perverse aspects.

This means that it doesn’t only exist in Lebanon. Simple personal examples: In India, people told me I was fat, or very healthy, or indicated it with their arms. In Montreal, many times at work, people gave my lunch disapproving looks (too many Tupperwares). As for more “realistic” examples, just take an objective look at the world and you will see so many… or have a look at this project made by a woman photographer about her own physical appearance (click here).

Thankfully, some people are aware of this and in numerous countries, many organizations and individuals and ad campaigns are trying to fight the effect of ads on young girls and teenagers – ads that always showcase impossibly thin and impossibly perfect young women.

The problem – as I find – is that amidst this frenzy, people seem to have forfeited their brains. And in Lebanon, most of us have done so by taking it to the extreme and refusing others the freedom to look how they wish to look. It is the lack of personal freedom in being who you chose to be, no matter the social and moral codes, that bothers me. This tacit obligation to “dress like people like” gets me… especially when this obligation is only applied to me, a woman (or so it seems).

When have you heard a man being criticized for his protuberant belly, or for his unsightly clothes? Now of course, I am not saying we are pure victims. Such men will definitely have less success with women than better looking and better groomed ones. But still, I strongly feel the pressure is not equally shared.

Diets, plastic surgery (with bank loans), the fact that men feel free to comment on your looks if they don’t like it and that you are just supposed to take it with a smile (god forbid you would react and be considered an emotional being). All this coupled with a growing competition between women to find the “good match” (understand “the golden goose”) in a frenzy to get married (who wants to be single after 25?) no matter the cost(s). Add to this an extraordinary need to appear perfect, no matter what lies behind closed curtains…

And while everybody is busy talking about diets, no one is trying to peak behind the curtains. Because most if the times, what you risk finding is too scary to deal with. So it is just easier to keep pretending, to do everything men like us to do, thus contributing to the vicious circle we already are totally submerged in: allow men to tell us how we should look, convincing them that we are all looks and no brain, that we want to be encouraged in looking good. They will grow convinced that this all women are capable of, that women are only physical partners. They will keep imposing their views on us and in turn, we will grow convinced that this is what our daughters should be…

And this is where I will stop, because then I will have to talk about women’s place in society, and their role in raising their children, and women rights… Too brainy for a simple female whose only purpose is to look good to find a husband who will provide for her…

Mon histoire avec l'excision du clitoris

Je suis Leyla et je suis égyptienne. Je vous écris mon histoire en espérant que vous la publierez. Je vis actuellement au Québec où j’ai eu vent de votre projet extraordinaire qu’est ce blog et la page Facebook. Briser le silence, déconstruire les stéréotypes, offrir un savoir alternatif sur les femmes au Moyen-Orient, et varié!

Mon histoire est celle de beaucoup d’autres égyptiennes – des millions – et d’africaines, ainsi qu’en Arabie et dans d’autres pays du Moyen-Orient. Elle n’est pas exceptionnelle, elle n’est pas ponctuelle, elle est devenue en quelque sorte la norme à suivre au nom des traditions, des coutumes, de la religion, au nom de l’honneur familial, tribal et même national.

Mon enfance n’était pas ce qu’on pourrait qualifier d’épanouie vu que j’ai vécu dans un environnement ultra-conservateur, où les femmes n’avaient pas le droit à la pensée, ni la parole. Mon père battait régulièrement ma mère et ne manquait pas de nous inculquer une ‘bonne leçon’ à mes soeurs, frères et moi-même lorsque nous osions enfreindre ‘la loi’ – sa loi ! A 12 ans, je découvris avec effroi le cycle menstruel, croyant que j’allais mourir en voyant tout ce sang. Mon père décida que je n’étais plus une enfant, et m’ordonna de porter le voile et de ne plus parler à mes cousins. Les futurs époux commencèrent à le visiter, et celui-ci ne tarda guère à me vendre au plus offrant: deux vaches, un poulailler et l’accès à un puits d’eau – l’eau était une denrée rare dans mon village.

Je ne vous conte pas la nuit de mes noces – je n’avais que 13 ans et mon époux 65 ans – qui fut l’un des pires moments de ma vie. Heureusement que je n’arrivais pas à tomber enceinte – ce qui rendait furieux mon époux lequel ne manquait pas de me battre et de me violer -, mais ce qui advint quelques mois plus tard fut encore plus ignoble: ma famille et celle de mon époux décidèrent que mes parties génitales devaient être excisées, de peur que j’aille voir ‘ailleurs’! Voyez-vous, le plaisir au féminin est sujet tabou. La femme ne devrait pas jouir, sinon les démons s’empareraient de son corps et de son esprit, et c’est la famille, voir la tribu qui en payeraient le prix!

13 ans… Mariée de force, violée à répétition, battue, et une CLITORIDECTOMIE (ablation du clitoris et des petites lèvres). A l’époque, je ne comprenais pas ce qui m’arrivait. On me disait que toutes les filles du village sont passées par ce genre d’intervention, qu’il s’agissait d’une coutume pour me purifier et bénir mon mariage. On ne m’a pas dit que j’allais perdre l’organe qui me donnerait du plaisir, on ne m’a pas dit que j’allais subir des souffrances atroces, on ne m’a pas dit que j’allais être traumatisée à vie, physiquement et psychologiquement. On ne m’a pas dit que les rapports sexuels deviendraient extrêmement douloureux. On ne m’a pas dit que Samiha, mon amie d’enfance, développa des abcès et décéda suite à des hémorragies à l’âge de 13 ans aussi. On ne m’a pas dit que ma cousine Bibi devint stérile et que ma deuxième cousine Malaki fut contaminée par le virus du sida – la stérilisation des instruments chirugicaux? Elle n’existe pas!

Oui j’ai survécu, oui j’ai pu m’enfuir de mon village (ce qui n’est nullement le cas de bien de femmes) et un ami m’aida à me réfugier au Canada, oui j’ai pu me refaire une vie, mais vingt ans plus tard, les séquelles de la violence subie en étant enfant et adolescente n’ont pas disparu. Les cauchemars sont fréquents, les douleurs physiques, et la douleur de l’âme encore plus.

L’excision est un crime! Selon des statistiques onusiennes et celles d’organismes internationaux luttant pour les droits des femmes, plus de 6000 fillettes en sont touchées par jour, même en Europe, aux Etats-Unis et au Canada! Parfois sous prétexte de prévention de la masturbation et de l’hystérie, pratiquée par des animistes, catholiques, coptes, juifs, musulmans, etc. (pourtant aucune religion n’a imposé l’excision dans ses lois), parfois en tant que rite de passage (pourtant des filles sont excisées dès 4 ans), et souvent, une question de virginité et de chasteté: les femmes qui ne sont pas excisées sont considérées impures, incapables de maîtriser leurs pulsions, susceptibles d’empoisonner leurs maris et enfants par le sexe, ou même de posséder un sexe qui non coupé, continuerait de grandir et dépasserait celui de l’homme et pourrait même l’avaler !!!

J’ai subi l’excision malgré moi et parce que je voulais respecter la décision familiale. Certaines femmes s’y opposent mais payent cher leur opposition: elles sont assassinées! Ma mère m’avait dit suite à l’excision que j’étais devenue une ‘vraie femme’. Moi je ne pensais qu’au suicide… Il m’a fallu des années de thérapie – privilège que d’autres femmes n’ont pas – pour comprendre le passé, panser ses blessures, et donner un sens à la vie.

L’excision est une abomination et il est temps d’en parler dans les pays arabes et africains à voix haute! Assez le mutisme! Oui dans certains pays, ceux qui pratiquent l’excision sont emprisonnés, oui certaines femmes ont même accepté de ne plus l’exercer en recevant de l’aide de l’Etat pour gagner leur vie autrement. Mais les mutilations persistent et l’ONU tarde à les bannir totalement!

Mon histoire est celle de plus de 90% des femmes égyptiennes! Mon histoire est celle de femmes violentées, bafouées, mutilées, mais aussi de certaines d’entre elles qui ont pu s’en sortir et militent pour un meilleur avenir, du moins pour la prévention qui passe par l’éducation, l’écoute, le dialogue, et la libération de la parole. La norme devrait tôt ou tard être inversée si des efforts supplémentaires sont déployés.

Learning from the Past, Understanding the Present, Fighting for a better Future

The incomplete yet revealing journey to the past of Western Asia with a particular focus on womanhood made me realize the importance of pursuing the investigative process of the past at all levels, including the not so obvious ones, the unthought and unthinkable, in order to build constructive memories thus histories and identities. Most Western Asian societies are struggling nowadays with social, political and economic crisis. They also suffer from diverse forms of discrimination partly based on highly selective memories serving particular interests and ideological positions, even if there are spaces of dialogue and conviviality, and few gender equality cases. (…)

This journey to the past made me realize that womanhood in Western Asia cannot be summarized in ‘clichés’. It is a complex undergoing construction going back to thousands of years of a multiplicity of roles, situations, status, characteristics, values, visions and practices. Even what is called ‘patriarchal system’ or ‘patriarchal conditions’ vary. Some societies, religions and communities gave women a certain importance by tracing descendants from mothers rather than fathers (matrilineal societies). Others viewed and treated women as inferior and partly ornamental. Within ancient societies in Western Asia, patriarchal frameworks were usually the norms, still, examples of gender equality existed. In several ancient societies, many women could gain some relief through religious functions, which could provide a chance to operate independently of family structures. However, other women internalized the culture of patriarchy, holding that it was their job to obey and to serve men and accepting arguments that their aptitudes were inferior to those of men. Patriarchal laws defined some rights for women even within marriage, protecting them in theory from the worst abuses, but the application of laws depended on many factors: social, political, economic, religious, tribal, …

In nowadays Western Asian societies, many women suffer from deficits in human rights. Societal norms that relegate women to subordinate status continue to impede progress. Governments remain resistant to addressing inequalities for women through progressive policy or legislation and often actively pursue policies of repression. Laws against marital rape and spousal abuse are largely absent in the region, so-called “honor” killings persist (even in Lebanon where the law was recently banned), and segregation and discrimination remain par for the course in educational and political institutions. (…) The female unemployment rate is much higher and the unemployment gender gap much wider in this region than in other regions. (…) Women face nowadays the risk of forfeiture of revolutions (Arab Revolutions) that were also theirs. While all efforts are focused today on the collapse of regimes and the dismantling of the old state apparatus, the claims relating to women’s rights tend to be marginalized. Even if women’s situations vary from place to another, threats converge. Women are now faced with attempts to be excluded from public life and to discrimination and violence by extremist groups. (…)

In this context of transition, it is more necessary than ever to take steps to establish full equality between men and women – indispensable foundation of democratic societies -, including the following (…):

1) Extensive researches in the past and present of this region’s societies should be done, shedding a light on current diversity and gender management (…), as well as a deconstruction of Orientalist studies and Orientalist/post-colonial feminism, thus providing a strong rationale for the burgeoning historical and anthropological research that claims to be going beyond stereotypes of Western Asian societies and gender relations. (…) It is important to remind oneself that although negative images of women or gender relations in the region are certainly to be deplored, offering positive images or non-distorted images is a first step towards the production of knowledge.

2) Networks between women and men should be deployed. Networks as practical sources of support and, more broadly, as a source of inspiration and a way to amplify voices and contribute to an “adding up” of women’s efforts. (…) Also, conscious efforts to work towards greater strategic focus in the work of women emerge as a common concern. There are so many effective grassroots initiatives that do not get a fraction of the resources they merit (…). It is suggested here that women have to do more than just look for ways to work in what is perceived to be ‘traditionally acceptable roles’. (…)

3) There should be supporting work to challenge theological approaches that exclude or downplay women. In several faith traditions, important changes in women’s roles and thus in their potential to work for peace centers on intra-faith work that challenges through theological dialogue the assumptions and teachings that have negative effects on women. (…) Women in Western Asia are called to do theology, to embark on a pilgrimage toward feminization and affirmation of the validity of women’s perception of religious reality, definition of the world, reading of history and interpretation of human experience. (…)

In a time where most societies in Western Asia are molding/re-molding their national identities, it is necessary to have an understanding of these identities as located in a temporally extended narrative, encompassing all diversities, including gender diversity. (…) Memory, history and identity have to be understood and built within a framework of a multitude of human interactions. Thus, it is an endless adventure, far from a comforting embrace. Minerva’s owl has not yet ﬂown, and we are yet to catch sight of the elusive dusk.

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This is an excerpt of my book’s conclusion ‘Womanhood in Western Asia: a Journey to the Past’, recently published in Arabic by Dar el-Machreq, Beirut, Lebanon. Book signing: December 13, 2013, 7 p.m., International Arab Book Fair (Biel, Beirut), Librairie Orientale stand. Read also: http://www.redlipshighheels.com/womanhood-in-ancient-western-asia-middle-east-why-is-it-important-to-study-the-past/

Living in Hell

Him: ‘Go to hell!’ – While hitting my face…

Me: Screaming – ‘I am already in hell!!!!”

My name is Catharina (obviously not my real name for security reasons). I am Lebanese and I live in a quite fancy environment, with everything one can imagine possessing – mansion, maids, gardener, driver, luxurious cars, yacht …

I come from a modest family, with seven brothers and sisters living in the same room and eating meat once per month. Fortunately, I had a pretty face, and I learned how to seduce men and climb the social classes’ stairs.

I met Tarek, 45 when I was only 20. He kept on buying me clothes and jewelry, and we travelled a lot. I was the quiet type of person, accepting everything he asked for. I couldn’t believe my luck, going out with such a handsome, rich and what seemed to be a wise, gentle, caring person. I was young and believed everything he said, I had never been in a proper relationship before and I fell for him completely. We even married against his parents’ will. Tarek was my prince, my savior! And I was his Cinderella.

We partied for a while, stretching our honeymoon to several months. And I got pregnant… First, he was excited, but when I got tired of going out every night, he got mad. He started yelling, and hitting… Once he back-handed me round the face and grabbed my throat throwing me off the bed onto the floor. Fortunately, my baby was safe. I used to ask him why he slapped me, strangled me, punching me, pushing me around, and disrespecting me, even in front of his friends, saying out loud ‘She is a whore, she married me for my money’, ‘She is fat and useless’, ‘I need to get out and f*** because she makes me sick’, ‘She only spends but does not produce’, ‘Why is she complaining? She has everything but she is a lazy person’ … His answer: ‘You deserve it! It’s your fault’!

I didn’t know what to do. I tried to contact a lawyer but he knew what I was doing – he had spies following me. I tried to talk with my friends, but they disappeared – Tarek was perceived as a gentleman, and my so-called ‘friends’ were his friends’ wives, his circle, his ‘sect’! My family could not help – poor, conservative and helpless. I was afraid he would take away my child. I tried to work, thinking I could become independent, but he knew – he has powerful connections everywhere – and called my boss. I lost my job, instantly. I began taking pills, all kinds of pills, just to forget my pain, but it didn’t help. I was drowning in an ocean of physical and emotional abuse. He managed to isolate me from everybody. From then, it was accusation after accusation. He isolated me further by sleeping with various so-called friends. I was stuck between the person I loved and the person that changed so much. I prayed, visiting churches and mosques, I prayed to all saints and prophets, but it didn’t work. I hoped that he would realize one day what he was doing and would stop, but it didn’t work. The more I agreed to his terms, the more he was violent. And If I tried to say ‘No’, he was also violent. I tried to commit suicide, and I failed… and he took away my child…

I realize now that I am writing while using the past tense, but my situation hasn’t changed. I came across your blog, I read almost all the articles, and I read so many testimonies of abused women. It encouraged me to write, to tell my story, to break the silence… I live in a prison, and I will die in that prison, unless I escape. How? When? I still don’t know. I refuse to be a victim but I am not able to escape, not yet… The only thing I know is that I am capable of writing those few words. I still have a brain that functions. I hope you will publish my story and share it. I want others to know they are not alone and I need to feel I am not alone. Nothing is as it seems… Domestic violence does not only occur in poor environments.

We do live in a country where violence has become the norm, as well as appearances and the glitter of fake people, the shiny bitter hypocrisy; where rich and powerful men control everything, everyone, and poor bastards are not able to change anything about it; where those men and their mafias control the police, judges, and clergymen; where many women sell their bodies and souls to the highest bidders…

How will I be able to survive this hell? I don’t know… But I know I refuse to let him break me, there is still a tiny light of hope inside me, I will move on one day and he will remain in the gutter where he belongs…

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Image source: www.carelodge.com

Womanhood in Ancient Western Asia (Middle East): why is it important to study the past?

This is an excerpt of my book’s introduction ‘Womanhood in Western Asia: a Journey to the Past’, recently published in Arabic by Dar el-Machreq, Beirut, Lebanon. Book signing: December 13, 2013, 7 p.m., International Arab Book Fair (Biel, Beirut), Librairie Orientale stand.

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“In the nineteenth century, the central moral challenge was slavery. In the twentieth century, it was the battle against

totalitarianism. We believe that in this century the paramount moral challenge will be the struggle for gender equality around the world” (Nicholas D. Kristof, in Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide).

In times of disillusionment, people may seek a golden age in the past or the future. Some feminists have situated such an age in the prehistoric past, a period in which they believe women were at least equal in status with men – up to the Late Neolithic, the age of the Mother Goddess, a peaceful and egalitarian era compared to later aggressive, hierarchical and patriarchal times. The idea of a golden age is attractive but did it ever exist, and if it did, what caused its demise?

Other feminists claimed that ancient religions and civilizations were oppressive; that Judaism, Christianity and Islam carry oppressive customs from their predecessors or that these monotheistic religions freed – or tried to free – women from pagan oppression; and that the Western modern civilization – Europe and North America – brought hope to the rest of the world by providing a suitable space for liberty and equality. Indeed, usual academic visions of Western Asia (Middle East) often describe women in this region to be oppressed, weak, needing rescue. Generalizations and misconceptions are easily made, but reality is more mundanely complex than romantic and-or racist/imperialist visions.

Womanhood is usually defined as the state of being a woman or the composite of qualities thought to be appropriate to or representative of women. What is ‘being a woman’ or what are those qualities? The answer to this question depends on every geopolitical context, society, culture, religion, community, family and individual. Thus, defining womanhood in Western Asia for example is a difficult quest into diverse past and present collective and personal-subjective identities, perceptions and practices.

In that perspective, one of the main goals of this book is to deconstruct positivist views of Western Asian women while digging the past. Thus, it is designed to give its readers an understanding of the often forgotten foundations of many contemporary cultures and religions in Western Asia concerning womanhood, especially as they apply to the status and relationships of men and women today. Investigating the past and examining the development of gender norms, identities and roles, contribute to understanding ideas, practices, customs and trends that have shaped Asian cultures. This book summarizes a journey in the latest findings in Sciences of Religions, Cultural Studies and Gender Studies, and suggests future perspectives for research and debate. It is written in an accessible style for all kinds of public – academic and non-academic. Archaeology, text studies and ethnographic comparanda are all tools employed in this endeavor, and all chapters in this book utilize a skillful blending of these and other resources.

The study of womanhood in Ancient Western Asia has been the focus of steadily increasing interest in recent years. In large part this is due to the growing importance of Women’s Studies as an academic discipline in general, but also must owe something to the heightened awareness of social history in Asian studies. A relief when it is known that women’s history was usually neglected, due in large part to the greater interest in the public arena, i.e. the political and economic world largely dominated by men, rather than the domestic world which was primarily the realm of women.

Also, archaeology in this region has been dominated by biblical based research and both the Tanakh (Jewish Bible) and the New Testament are incontrovertibly ‘androcentric’ documents. Furthermore, in response to the rich textual record for all historic periods across ancient Western Asia, questions of history (conceptualized as kings and battles), religion (conceptualized as priesthoods and temples) and the lives of the elite (conceptualized as kings, palaces and luxury goods) have provided the foci for archaeological research. What this means is that domestic quarters, daily tasks, private life, personal religion and the like have found little traction among archaeologists. Indeed, even when these topics have been explored, women have rarely populated either the ancient places or the modern discussion.

Whatever the reasons, the amount of relevant published material on women in Western Asia has dramatically expanded in the past few years. Still, any historical investigation into the lives of ancient women involves individual interpretation and much speculation. One can read the ancient sources concerned with women and their place in society, but to a large degree, they are all secondary sources that were written by men about women. No ancient journals or personal diaries written by women were uncovered, so it is not known what their hopes and dreams were, or if they had any. What women felt about most political issues and the numerous wars and upheavals is also a mystery. Nor can we read about what women thought of slavery, marriage, or the fact that they had no legal rights over their children or even themselves.

The scope is truly limited, but many questions can still be asked and considered, such as: what was the role of women in their society? Were they considered citizens who had personal freedoms, or were they sequestered away and given little or no education? Was individuality and personal choice a part of women’s lives, or were they overshadowed by the patriarchal society of which they were a part? The answers may be difficult to uncover, but they are important questions to ask when one realizes that so much of ancient civilizations went on to lay the foundation of many contemporary societies. Understanding the past makes the present that much clearer and hopefully provides insight into the future, thereby helping society not to make the same mistakes again.

Womanhood’s story in Ancient Western Asia is surprising and quite diverse. There are examples of strong and independent women at times when the entire area had become patriarchal. Still, there are also practices of oppression and discrimination. One way to understand these changing systems is to look at the status of women through what one sees echoed in ancient mythology and religious rituals that favored or not the position of goddesses. Curiously, it seemed that in a society where mythology centers on a male god who is dominant, the status of women is lower than others. Also, when females had more involvement in the rites and decisions of the group as reflected in the actions of the goddesses, they had fewer roles under male-dominating deities. In addition to mythology, this book focuses on religious, cultural and social practices, marriage customs and legislation. From Ancient Mesopotamia, to Arabia, Egypt, Persia and Canaan, this exciting journey to the past concludes with an insight into the present and the identification of future creative theoretical/practical paths to follow.

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Looking for Love ladies? Love yourselves first…

“Life without love is like a tree without blossoms or fruit” (Khalil Gibran)

Women in the Arab world are usually rushed into arranged marriage, forbidden to love and be loved; or soaked in the culture of prince charming who will rescue the princess and live with her happily ever after, only to wake up from their dream one day and realize that this prototype story written by men – most famously, the Grimm brothers – is only a myth.

In both cases, women are raised since childhood to be fruitless trees. They internalize the myths, tales, customs and norms they are taught. Eternally infantilized, they are sold merchandise to the best suitor, second-class citizens who are perceived needing the help of men to get through their problems and overcome obstacles, and if they are helped, the ‘natural’ reaction would be to marry the ‘savior’.

How can there be love without freedom, mutual responsibility, equality and partnership within a relationship? How can there be love when the myth of female helplessness is continuously promulgated and women are compliant mating partners, docile bodies who become the agents of their own ‘normalization’ to the extent that they are subjected to, and invested in, the categories propagated by other societies’ members – men, religious institutions, State?

How can there be love when women are silenced when they begin to demand the right to name themselves, and to act as subjects rather than objects of history? When their bodies are judged inferior with reference to ideals based on men’s physical capacities? When men are traditionally taught to be capable of transcending the level of the biological through the use of their rational faculties, and women are defined entirely in terms of their physical capacities for reproduction and motherhood? When the female body is subjected to disciplinary practices such as extreme dieting and plastic surgery that generate skills and competencies depending on the maintenance of a stereotypical form of feminine identity?

There is no love unless human trafficking is criminalized, gender relational dynamics are balanced, and myths are exposed for the fraud they are, despite the likelihood that there may be some kernel of truth to them. There is no love unless what is postulated as self-evident is deconstructed, the familiar is dissipated, and efforts are deployed to recognize, decipher and problematize the ways in which the self is produced.

There is no love unless liberation from domination is seen as a first step to guarantee freedom, and the second step would be to establish new patterns of behavior, mentalities and cultural forms that work to empower the vulnerable and manage human diversity in an inclusive respectful framework.

I had my own ‘There is no Prince Charming’ moment and bubble popped a while ago and I realized, then, that I was the only one who could or would take care of myself, that I had to try to be self-sufficient at all levels (mentally, physically, financially), to become a partner both on micro (family) and macro (society) levels. A partner in love, capable of giving and receiving, protecting and being protected from life’s trials, away from ludicrous expectations about the characteristics my significant other – and I – should embody.

There are no beasts which turn into princes, knights with shining armors sweeping you off your feet, flawless princesses… Nor there should be ‘any man is better than no man’, ‘kiss a frog and it will turn into a prince’, and ‘looking for happily ever after’. Two partners in love go through ups and downs, union and separation, trust and deceit, and learn, despite obstacles, to have realistic expectations of one another and of their relationship.

Looking for love ladies? There are no magic pills or concoctions that will attract the right person to you. However, start being the person you want and can be, for yourself. Take off your Cinderella’s clothes and Snow White passivity. Embrace your weaknesses, vulnerabilities and insecurities. Learn the inevitability of disappointment, while nurturing self-confidence, self-worth and independence.

Whether you choose to be in a relationship or not, to stay or leave, renew or change, try to uncover the wonder within yourselves… Love yourselves first!