MAPPING ARAB WOMEN'S MOVEMENTS
reviewed by
MARILYN BOOTH
_____________________________________
Marilyn
Booth
holds the Iraq Chair in Arabic and Islamic Studies at the University
of Edinburgh. She is writing a book about 1890s gender debates
and early feminism in Egypt.
For
the past two years, across Arab societies, resistance in the
streets to tyranny has brought issues of gender justice to the
fore, even as women have been targets of politically motivated
sexual violence. As so often in political struggle, in Egypt,
Tunisia and elsewhere, women have been represented as symbols
of both the with-it modernity of the oppositional movements
and the retrograde status quo. Mapping
Arab Women’s Movements provides
country-specific narratives that focus historically and empirically
on women’s varied activisms and how these have intersected
with the rhetoric of competing political agendas. Like women
elsewhere, Arab women in their own politically specific spaces
have carried out their political work on behalf of female compatriots
(and often male compatriots) by creatively using (and dodging)
these symbolic possibilities, as well as by simply getting on
with the job at hand.
Nine
countries in the region are mapped: Egypt, Syria, Iraq, Lebanon,
Jordan, Palestine, Yemen, Kuwait and the United Arab Emirates.
A tenth chapter describes Islamically oriented activisms in
North America, while the editors’ introductory chapter
assesses shared themes and challenges. Of course it is impossible
to cover the entire region in one volume—and apparently
the editors tried for comprehensive coverage—but it is
unfortunate that no North African country apart from Egypt appears.
A chapter on Tunisia, Morocco, Algeria, or Libya could have
illuminated, for example, the particular trajectory that struggles
over Personal Status Codes (which define family law and other
gender issues) have taken in this region.
Not
only do the narratives emphasize change from within; they do
their mapping from within. The international group of scholars
gathered here includes participants in movements they analyze,
while interviews with activists comprise an important part of
the research archive. The result is a panoramic yet exacting
and example-filled portrait of each national scene, the authors
of which are attentive to, as the editors put it, their “different
forms of connectedness to the countries they examine.”
They are also attentive to the political and human-ecological
histories in which each national story unfolds. Rita Stephan’s
chapter on Lebanon, for example, delineates how the peculiarities
of that country’s elaborate, confessionally structured
political system shape what women can do, yet also enable them
to take political space, since the fragility of the system and
its history of conflict make close control impossible. Eileen
Kuttab explains that the implacable presence of the Palestinian
national liberation struggle has required Palestinian women
activists to work on the two fronts of gender equity and national
sovereignty simultaneously, continuously, and in the face of
near-constant reverses. The book is a fine introduction to the
political history of these Arab nations as it relates to gender-based
activism.
As
the editors point out, many similarities cross national boundaries,
and these similarities also link Arab feminisms to those in
other world regions. Most women’s collective work in the
region began with elite-led philanthropy, women’s literary
associations, and journalism among tiny circles of literate
women from the late nineteenth (Egypt, Syria, Lebanon), early
twentieth centuries (Iraq, Palestine), and later (the states
of and around the Arabian peninsula). Women were visible in
all Arab national liberation movements, marching, organizing,
offering material support (including arms smuggling), and sometimes
fighting on the battlefield—like the multidimensional
activist Nazik al-‘Abid, who fought with the Syrian Arab
Army against the French in 1920. Anti-colonial sentiment yielded
new formations, for instance in Aden (South Yemen), where Yemeni
women, marginalized by the British founders of the Aden Women’s
Club, forced a leadership vote in the early 1950s and took over
the organization—as Amel Nejib al-Ashtal describes in
her engrossing chapter on Yemeni women’s movements.
From
the start, issues of modernization and gender policies have
been entangled and intertwined with concerns about taking Euro-American
societies as models, particularly given western imperial powers’
heavy-handed presence in the region. Polarizations resulted
that still define much of the rhetoric around gender justice:
to act for greater gender equity was and is to court the ire
of those who oppose any dismantling of patriarchal social arrangements.
While religious doctrine is no more constitutive of anti-feminist
outlooks in the Middle East than it is anywhere else, religiously
based ideology can be a vehicle for opposing women’s aspirations
in the name of tradition—even when the content of tradition
has no religious basis.
In
some cases, when governments have tried to promote gender-neutral
laws or policies, particularly in matters of personal status,
they have been defeated by religious conservatives in the legislature.
However, often it was such governments’ own repression
of independent activist initiatives that left a vacuum in a
nascent public sphere, which was filled by the religious discourses
that have expanded their purchase across the region since the
1970s. In other cases, states and religious groups colluded
out of shared interests, with women often becoming the victims
of uneven and contradictory laws. Some revolutionary regimes—such
as General Abd al-Karim Qasim’s in late-1950s Iraq, discussed
here by Nadje al-Ali—made progressive family law or other
pro-woman measures a core element of their vision and agenda,
but their achievements often fell victim to abrupt political
transitions. Iraq’s 1959 family laws, for example, were
superseded once the Ba’th regime emerged and solidified
into dictatorship. As Leslie Lewis shows in her chapter on Egypt,
women working within a religiously defined framework (whether
Islamic or Coptic) benefitted from earlier feminists’
success in achieving the rights to participate in public debate,
education and waged employment. Yet, they often found themselves
working for goals similar to those of their predecessors and
encountering similar obstacles. Bringing women into the work
force was crucial, but women-friendly policies were geared toward
producing compliant subjects not toward reducing inequality
or transforming gender relations.
Another
commonality throughout the region has been women’s up-front
contribution to nationalist movements, only to have gender issues
ignored ‘come the revolution’—at which point
women found themselves struggling to right the gender wrongs
of new national but only ambiguously inclusive constitutions
(this is currently going on in both Tunisia and Egypt). Several
authors trace the impact of international agendas, especially
those crystallizing around the UN’s Convention on the
Elimination of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW), on local
movements. Women have been able to utilize high-profile international
achievements to pressure their governments into compliance.
However, although many Arab governments have ratified CEDAW,
they have done so with a range of reservations—a reminder
of the region’s heterogeneous experiences and discourses.
“While the reservations are explained with reference to
Islamic shari‘a,” the editors note, “the variations
between the reservations made by individual countries bring
attention to the varying interpretations of Islamic law across
the Arab region.”
These
and other processes have led many women activists to rethink
their terms of engagement: what discourse of rights and equity
will best incorporate local needs and appeal to local sensibilities?
This dilemma is one impetus behind the emergence of gender-justice
campaigns rooted in reinterpretations of Islamic practice. Other
gender-focused, religiously based initiatives, however, seek
to maintain status-quo gendered hierarchies—just as the
religious right has done in the US. In other words, in the arena
of gender activism, religious discourses are malleable and varied.
Indeed, religious and secular vocabularies are anything but
isolated one from the other; the rhetorical opposition is mostly
a recent one, a “putative polarity . . . [that] has gained
discursive power not so much because it reflects reality, but
because iterations of its message serve particular political
interests,” both locally and internationally. One good
example is the use of role models from early Islamic history.
Since the late nineteenth century, activists of every stripe
have drawn on the figure of Khadija—Muhammad’s sole
wife until her death, a businesswoman, and his staunch supporter—to
advance notions of gender equality and women’s public
presence as foundational to Islamic practice.
Much
in this book will sound familiar to readers cognizant of women’s-rights
histories elsewhere. The essays contest notions of ‘Middle
East exceptionalism,’ still so unfortunately persistent,
though sadly they do so by showing how Arab women have faced
the same kinds of constraints and obstacles as have women the
world over, even as each struggle has its own indigenous roots.
As
the editors point out, on the basis of these well-researched
studies, many challenges remain, from internal issues of hierarchical
organization to democracy deficits in the society at large that
militate against independent activism and public debate on controversial
issues. Continuing legal discrimination, objections to gender
equity as an allegedly foreign concept, and notions that personal
status issues are sacrosanct (and thus that domestic violence
is off limits) are among the deterrents that movements for gender
justice face. Pressures from foreign funders to focus on certain
agendas may impede the work that locals most wish to do—while
local NGOs are often accused unfairly of being foreign implants.
Indeed, one feature common to all these national landscapes
is the accusation that women’s activism is imported in
its aims, methods, and rhetoric. Not only has feminism—even
unnamed—generated accusations of cultural betrayal; it
has also been accused of sanctioning immorality—just as
it has often been in the West. For example, as Pauline Homsi
Vinson and Nawar Al-Hassan Golley note, of interwar Syria, “many
conservatives regarded the growing tendency by Syrian women
to eschew the practice of veiling as a manifestation of western
intrusion.”
That
the editors have adopted the most capacious possible concept
of ‘movement,’ as a loose sense of collective engagement
that does not presuppose specific organizational forms or intentions,
or particular activist goals or agendas, allows contributors
to emphasize the sheer heterogeneity of Arab women’s campaigns
as well as the importance of informal groups, especially in
conditions where the formation of civic organizations is discouraged
or prohibited. Thus, contributors include in their discussions
“informal organizations that, in retrospect, can be viewed
as having contributed to greater gender equality, but do not
have this as a stated priority.” Compounding the complexity
of definition is that activists have struggled for nearly one
hundred years to come up with an Arabic equivalent for the European
neologism ‘feminism’ that would convey the indigenous
purchase of the concept without the essentialism and ambiguity
inherent in terms derived from the Arabic mar’a/nisa’
(woman/women). Yet by keeping movement and feminism so undefined,
as practical as that may be, the volume risks leaving readers
with a rich but bewildering array of information, unmatched
by a clear but flexible analytic framework that would help them
to think beyond the details.
Some
contributors find the problematic term ‘state feminism’
useful, though others do not use it in describing state initiatives.
This volume might have been an appropriate site for subjecting
that much-debated term to pointed scrutiny, since it can cover
a myriad of approaches, many of which can hardly be considered
feminist.
Still,
on their own merits, these individual country studies are invaluable
for their mostly succinct and careful narratives. Written before
the Arab region’s recent eruptions of political opposition,
they are historically grounded snapshots of the state of women’s
activisms in the pre-revolutionary status quo. In Arab societies
today, gender equity issues remain pressing and contentious,
even as the ground is shifting. The determined, ongoing, strategic
activism of so many individuals in so many venues, well-highlighted
here, means that democracy movements throughout the region will
not be allowed to isolate gender discrimination from other kinds
of inequality.