The Truth about Shad Begum

When I first considered writing about Pakistan’s Shad Begum, one of the recipients of the 2012 International Women of Courage Award, I was quick to label the event as yet another attempt by American authorities to politicize women’s rights issues in self-serving ways.  Undoubtedly, politicization of Muslim women not only has a colonial legacy but is also increasingly prevalent in Islamist politics in predominantly Muslim nations, making my assumption about the purpose of the award understandable.  After a glance at the bios of the 2012 Courage Award recipients (and those from previous years), I realized what a disservice this assumption was to the achievements of these women in their efforts towards raising awareness on key issues affecting Muslim women in their respective countries.

Shad Begum

Shad Begum. Image via The Express Tribune.

Pakistan’s Shad Begum, along with ten other women, was awarded the US State Department’s 2012 International Women of Courage Award in Washington on 8 March 2012.  The “Courage Award” annually recognizes women around the globe who have shown exceptional courage and leadership in advocating for women’s rights and empowerment, often at great personal risk.  Shad Begum was recognized for her efforts in the areas of political training, microcredit, primary education and health services for women through the Association for Behavior and Knowledge Transformation (ABKT) for which she is the founder and executive director.  She works to improve lives of women in communities of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa (a conservative, Taliban-infested region in the North West of Pakistan), and her efforts in Dir are often highlighted and have of late put her life at risk.

Shad Begum is not the only Pakistani to have won this award.  Dr. Begum Jan (also coming from the FATA region like Shad Begum) won in 2008 for her efforts through her organization, the Tribal Women Welfare Association (TWWA), and Ghulam Sughra (from the Southernly Sind province) in 2011 was acknowledged for her role in creating the Marvi Rural Development Organization (MRDO), an NGO focused on creating community savings funds and raising awareness of education, health, human rights, and social development issues.

It is interesting to note that Shad Begum is a political voice in her own right, having contested the district councillor’s election on a Jamaat-e-Islami seat.  It is not impossible to suggest therefore, the State department may have hoped to use Shad Begum’s nomination and subsequent win to highlight Begum’s participation in politics as a positive indicator of Islam’s confluence with women’s political participation.

Many of the recipients of this award come from Muslim majority countries.  For instance, in 2012 alone, seven of the ten recipients were of Muslim origin representing Turkey, Sudan, Saudi Arabia, Maldives, Libya, and Afghanistan including Pakistan.  It is no surprise, therefore, that this information automatically raises the question of whether this award is merely another tool of diplomacy extended by the US administration to further politicize the issue of women’s rights in Pakistan (and the Muslim world) and use it as a barometer for the country’s standard on human rights and freedoms, or whether the award for courage genuinely recognizes the singular efforts of an individual to improve social conditions for the women of her country.  The list of winners also provides evidence of women being awarded for efforts in conflict areas like Sudan, Iraq and Afghanistan. [Read more...]

Updates from Elsewhere

We’re sharing some excerpts today from a few different stories that relate to things we’ve covered recently on MMW.  Enjoy!

The editors of Love, InshAllah, which Merium reviewed in February, wrote an article for International Women’s Day about the importance of listening to Muslim women’s diverse stories:

There is no denying that there is subjugation and oppression of women committed by Muslims, in the name of Islam, the world over — just as we know there is injustice occurring everyday against women of all faiths, in all countries, in the name of religion politics, and ideology.

But the experiences of some Muslim women do not negate the experiences of others. The voices of Muslim women are diverse, and our individual experiences authentic. We must be placed in our own context without being smothered under an entire globe’s worth of geopolitical baggage. Just as the life of a Catholic woman in a village in Guatemala is very different from that of a Catholic woman in the village of Manhattan’s Upper East Side, so too are the lives, realities and experiences of over 500 million Muslim women across the globe.

In the last few years, Muslim women have begun pushing back against the monolithic “Muslim Woman” to celebrate the joys of our context and the challenges therein. We’ve seen a Muslim woman — Tawakkul Karman — win the Nobel Peace Prize for her pro-democracy work in Yemen, and another Muslim woman — Sharmeen Obaid Chinoy — win an Oscar for amplifying the courageous voices of acid attack survivors in Pakistan.

Speaking of Sharmeen Obaid Chinoy, whose film Saving Face Diana wrote about a couple weeks ago, there’s more on her and her film over at AltMuslim:

On one hand, while Pakistan produces educated, enlightened and talented females like Obaid-Chinoy, it also bears witness to victims of acid throwing, like 25-year-old Rukhsana, who is featured in the documentary. Two days before the Academy Awards, I interviewed Obaid-Chinoy, the film’s director Daniel Junge and Dr. Mohammad Jawad, whose work is featured in the film, at a pre-Oscar celebration hosted by Pakistan’s Los Angeles Consular General, Riffat Masood. Our conversation revealed the complexity of pessimism and hope in Pakistan.

“I have always felt that if you are educated and empowered you can become the voice for those that are marginalized and disenfranchised,” said Obaid-Chinoy. The variations that can produce such juxtaposed lives — in a developing country like Pakistan—are the stratum of education, social milieu and background.

Obaid-Chinoy said that despite the problems women in Pakistan face, she felt optimistic. “We have a strong feminine presence: female lawyers and legislators fighting on behalf of these women, who hear the testimonies, write the bills and get them passed in parliament. This shows no matter where we come from in Pakistan, there are people working to make it a more tolerant society,” she said.

And yet, over at KABOBfest, MMW’s Sana Saeed isn’t as excited about Pakistan’s first Oscar win: [Read more...]

I Heart Humsafar

This post contains some spoilers.

While I was visiting family and friends these past winter holidays, there was one sigh on everyone’s lips: Humsafar.  Even as I write this, I’m taking a deep breath, feeling both exhilarated and wishful, thinking about Khirad and Asher, and their various relationship trials and tribulations.  And if you’re already shaking your head in dismay, no, this is not another piece on South Asian dating traditions but rather a reference to the main protagonists of a very popular TV series taking Pakistan (and many South Asian communities abroad) by storm.

Main characters of Humsafar. Image via The Express Tribune.

“Humsafar” translates literally to “travelling companion” and this is where English can be so limiting.  In actuality, “Humsafar,” an Urdu word, conveys a perfectly nuanced reference to one’s soul mate.  It alludes to a partnership, a companion or significant other that helps you face the complexities of life’s pleasures and challenges.  Based on a novel by Farhat Ishtiaq and a production of Hum TV, the show tells the story of a young woman, Khirad, as she enters into an arranged marriage with the more affluent and worldly Asher.  The story unfolds as the couple faces a number of challenges, both at home, as a newly married couple with expectations to succeed, and externally, from people within Asher’s upper class, social network, some of whom look down at Khirad’s purported small town naïveté.  Also complicating the events is Khirad’s mother-in-law, providing the requisite foil to Khirad’s happy ending with Asher.  While this story is not original, the superb acting by the leads is both compelling and engrossing.  The chemistry between the main protagonists is particularly noteworthy.  For the first time, as an avid TV junkie, I was able to associate the Western TV idiom of “UST” or “unresolved sexual tension” with the main leads, and fervently hoped for a happy ending.

The story develops likes a primetime soap, minus the oft exaggerated sexual exploits found in some Western TV shows.  Overt romantic displays of affection are not tolerated between characters (let alone living *cough* breathing souls outside of television) and any references to such are implicit, so that romantic encounters include minimal hand holding; gentle, slowly drawn-out shoulder touches; and gazing/staring into each other’s eyes whilst a slightly melodramatic soundtrack soars to a climax.  To good effect, I might add – Humsafar employs this effectively throughout the show.

Pakistani TV dramas (as they are oft referred to) usually carry some elements of prevailing socio-economic and political conditions though Humsafar does not break any social or cultural barriers –  gendered roles are obvious and patriarchal undertones are prevalent.  What it has successfully accomplished instead is making its characters exceedingly relatable, explaining in part the show’s popularity.

Unfortunately, however, it plays upon common stereotypes of Pakistani women.  Mother- and daughter-in-law entanglements are common fodder for TV melodramas and Humsafar is no different.  Its execution of this particular storyline was, in my opinion, a surprise development, with the viewers learning of the character’s evil intentions much later in the show; kudos to the director for shaking things up.

Additionally, it continues to play the woman-as-victim card, something prevalent in other TV shows that I had the opportunity to watch over winter break (I’m looking at you, Meri Zaat Zara-e-Benishan).  My mother (an avid fan too) jokingly suggested that, with all the tears that Khirad has wept during the course of the show, she should be exceedingly dehydrated by now.  But jokes aside, after being treated abysmally by her husband and mother, Khirad returns to Asher, seeking his support when she is unable to provide for her daughter’s medical fees.  While such follow-through is consistent with religious laws and therefore expected, the show was unable to suggest circumstances whereby Khirad would have acquired financial independence – for example, as a career woman in her own right, since she’s depicted as being studious and having a fondness for mathematics, making the idea of her forging a successful career path entirely plausible. [Read more...]