Women in Tunisia’s Revolution

On Friday, the President Zine el-Abidine Ben Ali of Tunisia fled his homeland as it was engulfed by an uprising, sparked by the suicide of Mohamed Bouazizi, an unemployed university graduate who had taken to selling fruit in Sidi Bouzid.  When authorities confiscated his wares for not having a license, Bouazizi set himself on fire in front of a government building. Protests followed, as thousands took to the street in a movement fueled by rage over corruption among the elite.

Unidentified Tunisian woman protesting. Image via AFP.

Anger in Tunisia has been building up for years, with Laila Al Trabelsi, former first Lady of Tunisia and infamous as “The Queen of Carthage,” becoming a lighting rod for much of the dissent.  As Larbi Sadiki puts it “The First Lady is almost the Philippines’ Imelda Marcos incarnate. But instead of shoes, Madame Leila collects villas, real estate and bank accounts.” Laila and the Trabelsi extended family are often referred to as “The Family” or “The Mafia” in Tunisia, and  “No to the Trabelsis who looted the budget,” has been a popular slogan in the protests.  The irony is that the references to Laila al Trabelsi have been the only mention of Tunisian women in the events leading up to the ousting of the regime. Unlike in Lebanon or in Iran, where Neda Agha-Soltan became a symbolic figure of resistance, there was little mention of the women who took part in the protests in Tunisia, or of the victims of the security forces response, such as the woman who was shot and killed in Nabeul.

What explains this disparity? This was very much a media event, and perhaps this in itself was part of the reason. In the Arab world, and to a lesser extent in French media, there has been a month of in-depth coverage of a developing story, but in English-language media, the real coverage began only as Ben Ali began making concessions. Consequently, there was no narrative to frame events, so a disproportionate amount of the analysis has focused on the new media’s role in the uprising, from Wikileaks to Twitter.

Yes, social networks had a huge role to play, as did bloggers and sites such as Nawwat. However, to suggest that social media “caused” the revolution, is ridiculous to say the least, and to call this the first Wikileaks revolution is to suggest the Tunisians were not informed of what was going on in their own country and needed to be told that the Trabelsi clan was corrupt. It also ignores the role of pan-Arab satellite TV, which was at least as important as the internet, as was recognized when activists acknowledged Al Jazeera for its part in presenting the story as a people’s struggle, rather than dismissing it as “unrest” over unemployment.

In focusing on the new media and its part in the uprising, the English-language media has diverted attention away from the people in the street, other than as an undifferentiated mass of angry Arab men. With so many deaths, and the revolt starting in more conservative regions, perhaps there were initially few women on the street. The lack of attention to the role of women may partly be because Tunisia’s revolution focused on issues, with little attention paid to the importance of circulating images of “liberated” women to get the West on its side. [Read more...]

A Woman Without Hijab is Like a Chair with Three Legs

If you still haven’t figured out that wearing black chadors will save your worldly soul and that wearing lipstick and heels will get you sent to the hellfire, Iran’s “Cyber Group for Promoting Chastity and the Veil [Ifaf]” is here to clear that up for you.  They are sponsored by the Iranian government and have a sleek website where you can view their posters, buy t-shirts, and brush up on hijab laws in Iran!

They have a new ad campaign for “good hijab” (because, you know, chastity really only has to do with women) that includes its centerpiece, “A woman without hijab is like a chair with three legs” (poster pictured on right). The ad campaign has several posters, which range from the strange and incomprehensible to the skeevy, yet well done.  But their message is clear: women without hijab aren’t real, practicing Muslim women and are intellectually and spiritually incapable of measuring the dangers presented by their clothing choices.

“A woman without hijab is like a chair with three legs” is the most incomprehensible of the posters for me, both visually and textually. Why three legs?  Because we as women are somehow incomplete without hijab? Lacking in a solid foundation? Because we can’t be used to sit on? Clothes can do all that? Really?

A second poster (pictured below left) shows a red stiletto on a platform that is being sawed through. Once the sawing is complete, the stiletto will undoubtedly plunge, along with its wearer, straight into the hellfire.  By way of explanation, this poster simply says “Feminism” in two languages, most likely implying that the road to hell is paved with feminists! Also, are red stilettos feminist, then?

Another jewel in the collection is “Eyes are a trap of the devil. Imam Ali (A.S.)”  Does it really refer to the hadith refers to the evil in impure glances, or that wearing colored aqua-colored contacts while looking at people is bad?  As a big fan of lipstick, I was also pleased to find out that 22 lipsticks are sold in the world every second. But what I didn’t know is that lipsticks are also bombs that contribute to the fall of civilization with every little explosion. Interesting…that has never happened to any of my lipsticks.

The masterpiece of politico-religious symbolism, however, falls to two posters using the same texts:

Each chadori [chador-clad] woman is as a flag of the Islamic Republic of Iran.”

We are uncountable [many].”

These posters outline what the Islamic Republic wants: all women looking and dressing identically in the chador, as a uniform. As Sarah Khorshid Doost points out (in personal correspondence), these posters hijack the Green Movement slogan “we are uncountable,” which became popular after the election protests of last year. As the slogan is used in reference to unity, its use for such an exclusive and divisive means in this ad campaign is really disturbing. However, there is a history to this and many of the Green movement symbols being hijacked before (as with Ahmadinejad himself wearing a green shawl at his “victory speech” two days after the elections).

[Read more...]

Unveil FAIL: The Backlash Against Fariba Davoodi, Part II

This post was written by Sara Khorshid Doost. You can read Part I here.

The reactions to Davoodi’s “de-jabbing” have not been as much as you’d expect. There are the usual suspects, those who praise Davoodi for the courage to free herself from the chains of the veil, some while expressing their general dislike for religion. Those who pity her, insult her, express their dismay and disbelief at a women who’s gone astray and has sunk so low.

Most prominent among these is a program broadcast on IRIB TV (the Iranian state TV channel) that is part of a series of exposés on reformists and activists that are part of the opposition (whom they refer to as “fitnah”)—particularly those who used to be active or close to the reformist government in Iran and have been forced into exile. These programs usually involve their private lives and contain dubious information.

In this program, Davoodi is portrayed as a hypocrite that observed hijab in Iran in order to grow politically, while actually not believing in it; a puppet in the hands of the Western powers. The scene of her taking the headscarf off during the Parazit interview is shown at the end of this piece, accompanied by music that is usually reserved for days of official mourning. One can feel the hegemony that Davoodi talks about in its extreme. (We have not included a translation, but the mourning scene begins at the end, at 3:37.)

It is well known that the issue of hijab is usually given much more attention than it deserves in Muslim communities. It all becomes much more sensitive and complicated in Iran, where mandatory hijab has been enforced for over thirty years. Many women have been and are humiliated and degraded in public by official “guardians of chastity” for not following what they consider Islamically acceptable at that moment, and many a woman has been looked down upon for wearing hijab in private. Thus, the issue is seldom approached constructively and objectively, due to the amount of personal emotions involved. This has been definitely reflected in the media’s over-coverage of Davoodi’s headscarf and her removal of it.

What I would have liked to hear from someone like Fariba Davoodi, who has decided to take such a personal matter into the media, was not a repetition of the clichés, while implicitly questioning all that do not follow her example and positioning herself as some sort of hero.

She could express her respect for and solitude with the women who are forced to wear hijab while still wearing it herself—removing her hijab in protest to those who cannot doesn’t do any good for other women who cannot remove theirs.

Instead, I would have liked to hear an honest and insightful account that addresses the realities and the experiences of an Iranian Muslim woman. I guess that’s too much to expect.