Dangerous vulnerability: Simultaneous prohibition and coercion in Palestinian-Israeli single mothers’ relationships with men

Abstract

The objective of this study is to broaden understanding of how vulnerability is shaped more by social, cultural, and religious institutions than by individual life circumstances, exploring the case of Palestinian-Israeli single mothers’ relationships with men. Research often determines the vulnerability of a group, such as women migrants from an ethnic minority, by specific demographic characteristics. This common assumption has been challenged by calls to understand vulnerability as social processes intersecting with the action of the state and other social institutions. The study provides a nuanced examination of the social processes through which Palestinian-Israeli single mothers are simultaneously forbidden from and coerced into having relationships with men, drawing on a systematic analysis of data from semi-structured, in-depth interviews of 36 Palestinian-Israeli single mothers. The analysis exposed several mechanisms which forbid single mothers from having relationships with men, alongside mechanisms that permit, often even coerce, such relationships. These mechanisms are embedded in interrelated structural factors—massive differences in gender power relations, vast gender economic disparities, inability of most single mothers to support their families independently, and state policy of non-intervention in domestic affairs of ethnic minorities, and create a state of “dangerous vulnerability.”

Introduction

There has recently been growing scholarly interest in the concept of vulnerability (Brown et al., 2017). Traditionally, individuals or groups who need support with social, health, or economic problems were defined as vulnerable. More recent analytical development in the concept maintains that “vulnerability analysis must consider both individual position and institutional relationships” (Fineman, 2010, p. 269). Moreover, Fineman argued that, in analyzing vulnerability, attention should be turned to vulnerable life situations, social processes, society and its institutions. Drawing on this position, Virokannas et al. (2020) urge researchers to explore vulnerability not as an individual characteristic, but rather as a life circumstance and a response to social processes that produce, and reproduce, vulnerability.

Contemporary institutional changes, such as welfare state reforms that led to new forms of surveillance, support, and control, have enhanced interest in the processes that increase the vulnerability of marginalized groups, particularly women and girls (Brown et al., 2020; Lavee, 2020). One group considered to be particularly vulnerable are women migrants from an ethnic minority (Choi et al., 2012). However, it often seems their vulnerability is assumed only on the basis of their minority positioning. The present research draws on Kuronen et al. (2020) understanding that vulnerability is a social process and an outcome of social relationships; thus, we explore processes that produce vulnerability among women from ethnic minorities. We analyze such processes as intersecting with the action of the state and other social institutions, as suggested by Fineman (2010).

The case of Palestinian-Israeli single mothers is ideal to enrich scholarly understanding of the processes that shape the intersection of multiple vulnerabilities in the lives of ethnic and religious minorities.

Palestinian-Israeli single mothers are subject to extreme surveillance from two directions. First, they are under the surveillance of the patriarchal Palestinian society, which controls women in general and unmarried women in particular. The latter are strictly forbidden to have any kind of relationship with men, under the supreme Muslim cultural value of “family honor.” At the same time, these women are under the surveillance of the Israeli state, which perceives its Palestinian citizens as “constant suspects” (Smooha, 2015).

Simultaneously, these women also suffer from double abandonment. Palestinian society severely condemns and stigmatizes single women, particularly divorced or other single mothers (Meler, 2015a). At the same time, they are abandoned by the Israeli state in many respects. One main aspect of their abandonment is related to the justice system. The State of Israel allows, sometimes informally, the existence of two parallel legal systems: alongside the Israeli legal system, in which women are more protected by laws requiring gender equality and entitlement to equal rights, the state tolerates the existence of the Muslim Sharia legal system (as well as the Jewish Orthodox legal system), which fundamentally discriminates against women (Sezgin, 2017).

In the present study, we examine the processes that increase the vulnerability of Palestinian-Israeli single mothers under the context described above, focusing on the contentious issue of single mothers’ relationships with men. In the wake of studies pointing to low-income single mothers’ reliance on men’s financial support as an economic survival strategy in the US (e.g., Edin & Lein, 1997; Nelson, 2006; Seccombe, 1999) and Israel (Lavee, 2016a), we question whether similar patterns of relationship with men in exchange for material support would also be found among Palestinian-Israeli single mothers. As a stigmatized minority within an ethnic minority, these women’s possibilities of obtaining material resources are expected to be greatly limited, therefore increasing their vulnerability and the pressure to find other paths for providing for their families. However, contrary to single mothers in Western societies, including the Jewish population in Israel, Palestinian-Israeli single mothers are culturally forbidden from maintaining any kind of relationship with men. This is particularly true of Muslim women, who constitute the majority of this population. For them, maintaining relationships with men, especially those which include sexual relations, is a religious and cultural taboo (Hasan, 2002; Kamir, 2004).

Aiming to expose the life circumstances and the response to social processes that produce and reproduce women’s vulnerability (Virokannas et al., 2020), our research question is: What are the social processes through which the prohibition against maintaining relationships with men among single mothers is accompanied by permission to engage in such relations? Our aim is to uncover mechanisms which simultaneously forbid these women from having any relationships with men and permit—often even coerce—such relationships, exposing them to risks embedded in the gap between the forbidden and the permitted in the context of a patriarchal honor-based society. The study thus contributes to the understanding of the ways in which the state, the family, and other social institutions, which have the potential to offer marginalized women shelter and protection, actively expose them to what we term “dangerous vulnerability.”

Contextual and theoretical background

Palestinian-Israeli single mothers: Status, family, and gender relations

Palestinian women belong to the Arab national minority in Israel (21.1% of the general population). The vast majority of Palestinian-Israelis are Muslim (83%), while the rest are Christians and Druze (Israel Central Bureau of Statistics, 2020). Although they are Israeli citizens, in many aspects of social life, they are deeply divided from Israeli-Jewish society (Smooha, 2015).

In general, Palestinian society in Israel is characterized by a patriarchal family structure, which for the Muslim majority is embedded in the rules and guidelines of the Quran. Within this structure, women are motivated by the norms of the collective and the duties it imposes upon them (Abu-Rabia-Queder, 2017; Kavas & de Jong, 2020). As such, and similar to the sociocultural context of the Middle East, perceptions regarding women’s sexuality are embedded in traditional “honor codes,” according to which women’s sexual behavior is subject to extreme supervision by the extended family and community, and any relations of women with men outside marriage are strictly forbidden.

Over the last few decades, however, changes are occurring in the Arab family and its traditional patriarchal perceptions. These include a decline in birth rates, increased divorce rates, and increased participation of women in the labor market and higher education (Abu-Rabia-Queder, 2017; Nakhaee et al., 2020). Moreover, consistent with family trends in Western societies (Ruspini, 2013) and Jewish-Israeli society, about 11% of Palestinian-Israeli families are now headed by a single parent, usually a mother (Fogiel-Bijaoui, 2020).

Despite the rising incidence of single mothers in Palestinian society, single motherhood remains strongly socially unacceptable, and these women suffer social exclusion and marginalization. In Israeli society in general, marriage is viewed as the preferred familial form and the most important calling for a woman. In Palestinian society in particular, these cultural notions exacerbate critical attitudes to women who are divorced, separated, or widowed (Meler, 2015a).

As single mothers belonging to an ethnic minority, Palestinian-Israeli women suffer from multiple oppressions and are often disenfranchised from the social rights entitled to single mothers by law. This is particularly true for the majority of the Muslim women, who are subject to Sharia court rulings. Under Muslim law, a woman can be deprived of her right to child support if she is recognized as a “rebellious woman” (nashaz) reflected in certain patterns of behavior or even if she has simply left her husband’s home without permission. Sharia courts generally rule on meager child support compared to civil courts (Sezgin, 2017). Widows are not only deprived of their late husband’s support, but are also often forced to wage struggles with his family over the inheritance and receive no financial support from them (Meler, 2019a).

The difficulties single mothers in general have in finding sources of economic support have been the subject of broad research. However, the situation is much worse for Palestinian-Israeli single women. Most Palestinian-Israeli women have a low level of education and lack professional skills, severely limiting their employment opportunities (Sa’ar, 2020). Those who nevertheless are able to participate in the labor market are forced to take low-paying jobs with few (if any) benefits that keep them from exiting their situation of scarcity and poverty (Herbst-Debby, 2019; Levanon et al., 2021).

Given all the above, the case of Palestinian-Israeli single women can provide an important comparative perspective in understanding the broader issue of the impact of social and family ties on women’s vulnerability (e.g., Kavas & de Jong, 2020). Moreover, in light of the strict patriarchal supervision of these women’s sexual behavior, it is important to explore how their vulnerability is shaped vis-à-vis their relationships with men.

Vulnerability as a social process

Vulnerability is a contested concept widely employed in scholarly and policy domains, yet often in different usages. In its more traditional understanding, it describes individuals or groups who need support with social, health, or economic problems, whose vulnerability is used to justify the right to receive certain benefits or to gain access to services or treatment (Virokannas et al., 2020). From this perspective, the vulnerability of certain individuals or groups is linked to notions such as “risk” (Hogendoorn et al., 2020), as well as to perceptions of deservingness and morality (Brown, 2014).

Scholars (including those just cited) have recently called for the adoption of a feminist-critical approach to the concept of vulnerability, as the traditional definition has the potential to serve controlling forces under the guise of assistance and protection (Brown et al., 2017). This feminist-critical viewpoint proposes a move from focusing on individual vulnerability to exploring the social structure and macro-level forces that might shape such vulnerability.

Along these lines, many have suggested adopting Fineman Albertson, (2008) framework of vulnerability, as represented in her “vulnerability theory.” Fineman proposed that vulnerability is not a particular characteristic of “at-risk” populations, but is inherent to the human condition; therefore, governments have responsibility to ensure that all people have access to the societal institutions that distribute resources. Fineman (Fineman, 2010; Fineman Albertson, 2008) perceives vulnerability as a relational concept, referring to both relationships between individuals and especially between individuals and society.

Following this position, Kuronen et al. (2020) argue that, in analyzing vulnerability, attention should be turned to vulnerable life situations, social processes and societal institutions that generate and (re)produce vulnerability. Accordingly, studies should focus on processes generating vulnerability and on the responsibility of the state and its institutions in the reduction or increase of the risks and consequences of vulnerability.

Following Fineman (2010, p. 269) claim that “vulnerability analysis must consider both individual position and institutional relationships,” we understand Palestinian-Israeli single mothers as women in vulnerable life situations instead of as vulnerable individuals or groups. In other words, vulnerability is not their individual characteristic or part of their identity, but rather something that is (re)produced, governed and constructed in social structures, relations, and practices.

Method

Samples

This qualitative study draws on semi-structured in-depth interviews of two samples of Palestinian-Israeli single mothers, all Muslim. Data of the first sample are based on a field study conducted between 2007 and 2011, involving interviews of 20 Palestinian-Israeli single mothers, all divorced, separated, or widowed. Interviewees were aged 30–45 and lived in various rural and urban localities in different districts. The interviewees had a diverse educational background. Data from the second sample are based on a field study conducted in 2019. The second group included 16 Palestinian-Israeli single mothers living in poverty, all divorced, separated, or widowed. Interviewees were aged 30–57 and lived in various rural and urban localities in the northern part of the country. Most had an incomplete high school education; two were undergraduate students. Some worked in formal jobs with a pay slip and others in undocumented jobs (without benefits). In total, there were 36 participants in the study.

The decision to integrate the two datasets was reached after a long discussion between the authors, reinforced by their emerging understanding of simultaneous prohibition and permission in relationships with men as fundamental to their lives of the women in both samples. This similarity was striking as the two are separated by almost a decade, during which time progress has been made in terms of gender equality in Palestinian society.

Research tools and data analysis

The interviews in both samples lasted about 90 min and were conducted in Arabic or Hebrew. The interviewer of the first sample was Jewish (second author) and therefore an “outsider” in terms of religion, nationality, and culture; the interviewer of the second sample was a Palestinian-Israeli Muslim (third author) and therefore an “insider.” As all interview situations involve an identity definition, the qualitative research literature broadly discusses advantages and disadvantages of interviewing from “outside” and “inside” (e.g., Charmaz, 2014). The integration of both “inside” and “outside” interviewers allowed us to paint a more complex picture than if interviewers were from a single location. On the one hand, the interaction with an “outsider” allowed interviewees to share their feelings authentically without feeling a need to conform to common cultural norms. On the other hand, the “insider” interviewer could leverage her familiarity with Arab culture by being more precise in terms of word choice, tone of voice, and body language. Moreover, interviewees could feel comfortable sharing their experiences with someone familiar with the sensitivities, complexities, and challenges embedded in their position.

The recruitment of participants in both samples was based on convenience and snowball sampling. Given the marginalization of the target population, we had to approach potential interviewees via trusted connections. Therefore, the first ones included in each sample were recruited by a contact from the interviewers’ personal or professional networks. Informants were then asked to refer us to other women who might be interested in taking part in the study. Interviewees in the second sample were given 70 NIS (about $20) for their participation.

Each interview addressed a number of central topics, such as the pre-marital context (initial viewing, meeting, and choosing of her partner); relationships with her family of origin, her husband’s family, and her children; the woman’s place in the community; and information on employment and education. All interviews were recorded and transcribed verbatim. The length of the transcription was 18–20 single-spaced pages per interview, yielding a total of 680 pages.

All identifying details were anonymized, and names were replaced with pseudonyms. The study conforms to with the IRB ethical guidelines of the relevant institutions.

The analysis was conducted using Atlas.ti software for analyzing qualitative data. By drawing on stories of informants who were interviewed by both “insider” and “outsider” interviewers, we were able to access varied and rich information, as the emphasis in each interview was on different aspects, yielding a multidimensional picture. The collected data underwent categorical content analysis (Corbin & Strauss, 2014) involving several stages. First, each researcher coded segments in the texts related to the interviewees’ relations with men. A second stage revealed two distinct categories of “forbidden” and “permitted” relationships under which we grouped codes. This stage exposed what we later defined as mechanisms which both forbid mothers from having relationships with men and permit them—even coerce them—to do so. The final stage involved theoretical coding. In this stage, building on the revealed mechanisms, the analysis uncovered the social processes embedded in the women’s experiences in a specific social environment—namely, their families—and in the backdrop of a state that subjects them to both abandonment and surveillance. This stage allowed us to portray a coherent story of the social processes which shape “dangerous vulnerability.”

Findings

The forbidden: “You have to be a nun”

Results revealed a number of mechanisms which forbid Palestinian-Israeli single mothers from maintaining any kind of (sexual or other) relationships with men. By that, these women become forbidden. The women were expected to be devoid of any sexual desire and perceived as non-sexual creatures. This is clearly manifested in the words of Salam:

In Arab society, if a woman gets divorced, you remain that way for the rest of your life ... as far as they are concerned, you are a divorcée and you need to wait until death. You only need to take care of the children and raise them and beyond that you are meaningless. You are a divorced woman and you cannot be active in society, it is shameful.

Thus, patriarchal society expects divorcées to adopt strict behavioral patterns. Moreover, there are similar social expectations of widows, as expressed in Olah’s words:

They [her husband’s family] have a say before anyone else about a woman who is widowed. She needs to be a nun—to belong solely to her home and her children. She should never think about a new life in terms of a relationship or about beauty or even emotions…. It’s shameful to even mention it. You are a nun and are obligated, it is dictated [by society].

The interviewees’ stories present the rules and norms regarding the behavior of single mothers. Despite different circumstances bringing about their single status, the expectations each interviewee described are consistent in their prohibition of any kind of romantic or sexual relationship with men. Like nuns, they are expected to withdraw from all aspects of life. Their freedom of movement and motherhood are supervised, and their decision making is never entirely independent (Meler, 2019b).

Beyond the individual aspect of maintaining relationships with men, there is a cultural and religious prohibition which imposes close social surveillance. Violating these prohibitions can result in severe punishment, even death, as demonstrated below. The following are the main mechanisms that forbid relationships, as revealed in the analysis.

Housing arrangements

The most central mechanism by which the sexuality and relationships of single women with men are supervised is through housing arrangements. Upon divorce or widowhood, the women are left without housing options under both Islamic and Israeli law. There is a lack of government housing solutions compounded by economic hardship, lack of social support, and land separation policies which deliberately limit the rights of Palestinian-Israeli citizens to housing. Importantly, the housing shortage experienced by Palestinian-Israeli single mothers has a unique feature resulting from the legal structuring of property division of property upon termination of marriage, according to the Israeli Financial Relations Law of 1973. Whether the marriage ends due to divorce or death of the spouse, each party is entitled to half the value of all joint assets, excluding assets in their possession before the marriage or received by gift or inheritance during the marriage. While many Jewish couples in Israel buy their apartment during the course of the marriage, in Palestinian society it is accepted practice for the man to build a house before marriage, and therefore it is considered his or his father’s property. Thus, divorced or widowed Palestinian-Israeli women cannot benefit from the Financial Relations Law (Meler, 2015b). As communal property is not recognized in Islam, women are left defenseless under Islamic law (Layish, 1995), as well as under Israeli law which does not relate to gender or cultural rights to housing.

Within these constraints, the typical and most accessible arrangement is to live in tight spaces with the extended family. For divorcees, this means returning to the family of origin; for widows, it means living with the husband’s family. As Alar states: “As a divorcee, I cannot sleep outside my parents’ house.” Similarly, Maram explains that housing arrangements are not a choice:

The family resisted my living alone after the divorce, so today I live with my mother [her father passed away]. My brother is married and has a family and we all live in the same house. I live in a separate room so that I can bring my children over.

Often, the family allocates one room to the single mother, in which she lives with all her children: “I live at home with my parents. Me and the boy have a room of our own” (Mayslon).

Alongside the alleged benefits of living with their parents (mainly by allowing rent-free residence), such arrangements reinforce the women’s dependency on their families and subordinate them to local patriarchal arrangements. Living with the extended family, the women are subjected to close supervision, routine criticism, and violation of their privacy. These practices eventually result in increased oppression (Meler, 2017).

Family honor

The second revealed mechanism is rooted in the cultural-religious concept of family honor. Kamir (2004) identified Palestinian-Arab society in Israel, similar to other Arab-Muslim societies, as an “honor culture” which glorifies conformity to its honor code. In studies of Palestinian-Israeli women, researchers (Hasan, 2002; Kamir, 2004) argue that family honor must be seen as a duty that falls on the men of the family. Because men’s dignity depends, among other things, on the modesty and the sexual inaccessibility of the women who are related to them, the men try to curb the women’s behavior. Disobedience may result in heavy punishment, as Nur described:

Even though I’m very strong and don’t listen to what others say around me, and I’m considered someone with the freedom to do what I want, it’s still difficult. There are women who suffer tremendously! You choose to get divorced and you are done, you choose that and your life up until that point ends. I can go out at night and have fun with my friends, but my brother has already declared that if I sit in a coffee shop or with a man, “I will break your skull and throw you out the window and our parents will testify that you killed yourself.”

The real and immediate danger of violating social codes is also clear from the words of Kifah:

I will tell you that in the State of Israel [institutions such as the National Insurance Institute] think that Arab women are like Israeli [Jewish] women, that they can have relationships with men after getting divorced, that there is someone who takes care of them, give them money. But those women would be killed if it were known they are having any kind of relationship which is not marriage. Her brother, her relatives, they would kill her immediately.

Nur’s and Kifah’s words echo the statistics. In recent years, ever-increasing numbers of women in Israel have been murdered, including Palestinian-Israeli women at a rate far surpassing their percentage in the population.

Any expressions of sexuality among divorced or widowed women are not socially legitimized. Many of the interviewees talked about the necessity to keep relations with men a secret. For instance, Rasha stated: “When I was with him [a friend she had for three years] my family didn’t know. No no no, definitely not. My sister also didn’t, and my mother, no no no.”

As expressed in these stories, the single mothers are trapped between abandonment and surveillance (Shenhav, 2007) of both the family and the wider society. Alongside the close surveillance of their family members, they are easily ‘disposable’ if considered as threatening the family honor. Additionally, as single mothers, they are in constant surveillance by the state, particularly if they receive allowances or any other kind of state’s support entitled only by single mothers. However, the women’s stories also demonstrate how they are practically abandoned by the state. By assuming similarity between Jewish and Arab single mothers in their ability to enter formal relationships with men, the ignorance of the state in the particular hardships of minorities is exposed.

Surveillance by children

A third mechanism that deprives single mothers of control over their sexuality and sexual desires is manifested through surveillance by their children. For example, Nur described how her son would control her behavior:

If I got a phone call, [my son] would put his ear next to the phone speaker, and if it was a man’s voice, he would not let it go and would stand there until he heard the whole call until the end.

Often sons in a household headed by a single mother take it upon themselves to fulfill the social role of the absent father, including supervision of the women in the family, even their mother. The sons receive legitimation and encouragement from extended family members, as within the patriarchal structure they are perceived as responsible for maintaining standards of decency. Interestingly, beyond surveillance by sons, under strict traditional rules, interviewees also told of surveillance by their daughters. For example, Olah related a harsh reaction from her daughters when a man she met called her:

I will not allow myself, even on the phone, and when he [the man] called, my daughter was in the bedroom with me and I asked her to leave the room. And she replied: “No I won’t leave,” and added: “We were never used to you having privacy or personal things you can not speak about in public, so I’m not ready for that in any way.” I want to both convey respect to my children and to feel respected, and transcend my feelings. So yeah, I shut off my emotions and I control myself.... I know I’m on duty like any soldier on duty, that’s what I have in life: educating my children, home, but I have nothing personal of mine. Nothing. This is also what is required of me by society and my family.

The surveillance imposed by Olah’s children is strongly embedded in codes of honor. Olah wishes to educate her children, but at the same time they are “educating” her. The children—including daughters—act agents of the patriarchal society and refuse to grant her privacy, even for a phone call. The narrative cited above reflects what the speaker summarizes as the life of a “soldier.” Just as soldiers are in the possession of the state, participants’ stories portray strong and varied surveillance mechanisms which place single mothers in the possession of the family and the patriarchal society.

The permitted: “You are a prostitute for free”

Alongside mechanisms that forbid the women to have relationships with men appeared strong mechanisms that paradoxically promoted such relations. Interviewees described a reality whereby, in all aspect of their lives, they are perceived as “permitted.” The moment they leave their home—going into their yard, to work, to family gatherings, shopping—they become an object of repeated propositions from men, young and old, married and single.

This fundamental duality of the social perceptions of single mothers’ sexuality, of being forbidden yet permitted, is expressed even within a short narrative of a single woman. Aisha says:

Falling in love with someone now is impractical; it is forbidden. This is according to religion, but like dreams, at least to fall in love, to taste it. I envy you [Jews] that you have this option that if you divorce you can have a boyfriend or girlfriend. We cannot. But if you are a divorced woman, then every [man] jumps on you, looks for you, perceives you as a sexual witch.

Aisha explains how the possibility of romantic relationships is a fantasy, and how the sexuality of single women is socially stigmatized and even interpreted as a negative female force. Her words expose a reality in which, alongside strong mechanisms of surveillance which forbid any sexual manifestation of single mothers, there are forces that enable a transition from falling in love as “impractical and forbidden” to being “jumped” on at every turn. These contradictory external forces increase the single mothers’ disadvantaged position. The necessity to maneuver between such forces exposes them to harmful situations, resulting in dangerous vulnerability.

The data analysis revealed several specific mechanisms that allow this permission, intertwined in movement between abandonment and surveillance. These mechanisms are embedded in three interrelated structural factors: massive differences in gender power relations in Palestinian society; vast gender economic disparities and the inability of most single women to financially support their families on their own; and the policy of state institutions not to intervene in Palestinian society, particularly decisions of the Muslim court.

“Men are like wolves”

The first mechanism can best be represented in the women’s belief that “men are like wolves.” This metaphor draws on the extremely gender-polarized society, in which men have a much higher power position than women. The feeling of being vulnerable in a jungle of wolves was reflected in various forms in most of the interviews:

Siwar: I feel like all men are like wolves. For example, when I go to get my car fixed and the guy knows I’m divorced, because his wife is a relative of my ex, then he wants to take advantage of that. So he asks me, “What are you doing with your life?” “Do you have Facebook?” “Can I have your mobile number?” Stuff like that. Or for example, in another case, we have a neighbor. I have a window at the heart of the apartment. The moment I sit there, I can tell he’s watching me from his house. It really bothers me. Occasionally he also turns up and asks what is up with me. Now I’ve even cut ties with his wife. They have a store and I used to shop there, but I have stopped shopping there, so he won’t think I’m coming because of him.

Doaa explained: “Being a divorcee means there’s something that flashes to any man [saying] he can be in a relationship with her, whether he’s married or not.” In the same vein, several interviewees reported that men attempt to take advantage of divorced women, rather than promoting decent relationships:

Every day men try to take advantage of me. Arab society tries to take advantage of divorced women for something sexual, and not for marital purposes or to protect her (Salam).

The vast difference in gender power relations is strongly related to extreme social condemnation of divorcees: “Here in the village people look at a divorced woman as if she is the scum of the earth” (Samah).

Salam explained the link between an undervalued social perception of divorced women and the theme of permission more directly, stating that single mothers are seen as promiscuous and therefore allowed: “Divorcees are perceived as whores. There are those who take advantage of the situation, who look at a divorcee like a prostitute for free.” Later in the interview, Salam detailed the consequences of this social perception:

People look at me differently, I don’t have a man, I’m divorced, it can put me in dangerous situations. If I smile at someone, it means I’m chasing him. People don’t trust me. For example, my manager at work speaks to me badly. She wants to get me out of my job because she’s afraid I will take a man from among her relatives. Because I don’t have a man, I’m dangerous.

The described oppressive perception creates a reality in which single mothers are propositioned for “entertainment” purposes, and not for a relationship in which the woman can receive real support from the man or obtain the legal rights and recognition to which married women are entitled:

Samah: When I go out, all the guys want to give me their phone numbers, chase me and all that. Just for entertainment.

Interviewer: And those guys did not want to marry someone who is divorced?

Samah: No no, getting married is impossible.

The women’s stories reveal a life in which they are constantly reminded that, as single mothers and divorcées, they are stigmatized and degraded. While these practices may be enacted to emphasize to the women that they are permitted and should consent to men’s solicitations, at the same time they reinforce traditional norms and the social stigma surrounding divorce.

Legitimacy for men to have parallel relationships with women

The second permissive mechanism is embedded in the cultural legitimacy for Muslim men to maintain several parallel relationships with women. The vast majority of the men who were mentioned in women’s stories, like those presented above, were married:

The two men I knew were older, they tried to pick me up. One of them said he wanted to marry me, but he just wanted to hide the relationship through a temporary-pleasure marriage. What they offer is more about sex and less of an emotional or economic relationship (Maram).

Conservative Islam sees any sexual contact that is not anchored in marriage as prostitution, and allows men to marry more than one woman. However, Israeli law forbids bigamy or polygamy. Facing the challenge of modernization and life in Western society, Islam today is forced to bend its rigid frameworks and find solutions that enable it to keep the young loyal to religious law. Recently, new forms of marriage have been recognized religiously by the Sharia courts. These are called “temporary” or “pleasure” marriages, referring to marital patterns that last for a limited time (from a few days to several years) and do not require divorce to end the union, as the couple never formally registers the marriage. In these forms of marriage, the women have no official marriage documents and are not entitled to any rights as married or divorced women. Such relationships, which bend the rigid rules to allow sexual relations between men and women as a solution within the Sharia (Rubinstein-Shemer, 2014), are not legal in Israeli law. Our interviewees’ narratives reveal that such “solutions” for maintaining relationships, which are commonly proposed by men, leave women highly vulnerable.

Many interviewees portrayed a situation in which men take advantage of the cultural permission for them to have multiple relationships, combined with the legal prohibition of polygamy, to convince women to enter relationships in which they have no rights. For instance, Salam reported:

They want to be close to you, or he says that he wants to be your husband. But today polygamy is forbidden by Israeli law, so that way he can take advantage of this law banning bigamy in Israel and tell you he wants you to be his wife based on a piece of paper you write together.

In other words, polygamy is taking place in Palestinian-Israeli society despite the prohibition in Israeli law and despite opposition from Palestinian feminist organizations. The Israeli state has not eradicated polygamy, perhaps due to “cultural sensitivity,” so as not to make waves, to suppress critical thinking or to leave Palestinian society in a state of backwardness. Whatever the underlying reasons, the result is a pervasive phenomenon in the sociocultural context that encourages patriarchal social elements, leaving women abandoned and increasing their vulnerability (Sa’ar, 2020).

“A woman needs a man’s back”

The third mechanism of permission is strongly embedded in the centrality of the man in Arab patriarchal culture. This is manifested in the dialogue between Riham and the interviewer:

Riham: Every woman needs a back.

Interviewer: Even if the man is not a good man?

Riham: Any man is a back for a woman.

Indeed, a popular idiom says: “A shadow of a man and not a shadow of a wall.” In Palestinian society, social structure is focused on the patriarchal family. As such, each woman belongs to a certain lineage before and after her marriage and is always defined in relation to a man (daughter, sister, wife, mother). Hence the accepted status of any woman is to be a “woman with man” (e.g., Jansen, 1987).

Rasha elaborated upon the need for support from men, describing her relationship with an affluent married man:

I was in need, there was no one to support me, to take me by the hand and help me in terms of money, financially, or emotionally. And I found it all in him… he would only come to spend a few hours with me, not a full day. What I wanted to buy for the house—he bought me whatever I wanted.

Eventually, after 3 years of economic and emotional support, Rasha ended the relationship after refusing to be this man’s second wife.

Women’s inability to have an independent livelihood

The most central mechanism permitting—indeed coercing—relationships with men is the Palestinian-Israeli single mother’s inability to have a livelihood on her own. Vast literature demonstrates that single mothers in general struggle to make a decent living, as the primary and often sole provider of the family (e.g., Christopher, 2012; Lavee & Benjamin, 2016). At the same time, recent changes in social policy in Israel have drastically decreased state support for single mothers in general, therefore exposing them to continuous economic hardship (Herbst-Debby, 2019; Lavee, 2016b). Within this context, the economic situation of Palestinian-Israeli single mothers is even more complex. As explained above, many had to leave their husbands’ home without compensation and without receiving child support. Moreover, the percentage of Palestinian-Israeli women who participate in the Israeli labor market is lower than that of Jewish women, and those jobs which are available to them, particularly those women with a low level of education, are at the bottom of the labor market. This situation does not allow the single mothers to subsist or provide for their children independently.

As elaborated earlier, single mothers in general, particularly those with low income, are forced to maintain relationships with men in order to obtain material resources required for the family (Edin & Lein, 1997; Lavee, 2016a). Such vulnerability is increased by the multiple marginalities of Palestinian-Israeli single mothers, aggravated by the strong control on women’s sexuality in the patriarchal society. The result is a mechanism in which they are coerced, through various processes, to enter relationships with men in order to survive economically. Such relations of dependency occur both in and outside the labor market.

Celine’s words reflect how such women have to rely on men’s resources, as they cannot provide for themselves and their children on their own:

You see a lot of women [divorcees] who go out until 10 or 11 pm. And then someone brings them presents and lots of things, takes advantage of them. They have to ask for money because they don’t have anyone to support them.

The men in the women’s surroundings are well aware of their disadvantaged economic condition. The next stories were common among our interviewees:

Siwar: There was an older married man in our neighborhood, my grandfather’s age. He knew I wasn’t working, you know, it’s a neighborhood. Everyone knows everything about everyone. He knew I had no source of income or work. He tried to make me his property, told me he would fill my wallet up, and that I would have a very nice car and a lot of other things.

Rosin: Male family members keep asking me where I live, and are willing to give me whatever I want to be with me. A lot of people try to take advantage of me and bring me things or buy me things, but I’m really careful, I didn’t bring anyone into the house. I got in touch with someone, but it didn’t continue because he was married, his family threatened me and also my parents did not consent, even though he helped me financially and helped with the children. He wanted to marry me. We would go out together with the children sometimes, too (Rosin).

The economic disadvantage of these women causes them to be dependent on the support of males. Their narratives suggest that such support is not offered without expectation of compensation, at least not for women in their position. Take, for example, the story of Oham, who said she feels men are constantly “taking advantage of her situation”:

When I was at my friend’s mother, her son offered to drive me home and I agreed. On the way, I was with the children and he gave me 200 shekels and told me he wanted to help, but wanted me to give him my phone number. Since then he has been sending me messages, asking if it’s possible to meet up. He always asks when my kids aren’t home.

The coercion to enter relationships with men for material resources is particularly salient in the workplace. Many interviewees told how managers and employers take advantage of them. Holding superior positions, such men identify the extreme vulnerability of single women who are the main providers of their children and have no “man’s back” to protect them from harassment. Many of the interviewees were unaware of state law regarding sexual harassment in the workplace, which considers any offer or comment of a sexual nature made by an employer to an employee as a criminal offense. In other cases, women were afraid to turn to state institutions, such as the police or the welfare department, due to negative past experiences.

The vast majority of interviewees reported they were frequently propositioned by managers, who “suggest” they maintain various types of relationships in exchange for better work conditions, higher salaries, or simply to keep their jobs. From their vulnerable position, many women have little choice. We demonstrate these dynamics relatively broadly by presenting the story of Doaa, a divorced mother of three. During the interview, Doaa revealed that she earned very little from her contractual factory work. Her salary is below minimum wage, and she cannot complain about the contractor for fear of getting fired. When asked why she was not trying to find another job, Doaa explained that, as a divorcee, it is socially forbidden for her to work evening or night shifts, such that her job opportunities are highly limited:

I was looking for another job, but many ask you to work two shifts. Morning shift and then a night shift. As a divorcee, the society talks about me if I go out to work in the evening or at night. Even my close family, my brothers, are opposed. They say, “if you come back by shuttle, don’t sit next to the driver. Don’t return last on the ride with the driver, or don’t work at night, because it will create bad rumors about us.” You can’t disobey or say “I need the money.” It’s a matter of family honor and you can’t break it, otherwise you’re in danger yourself. Along with that, they don’t agree to help me financially. Everyone has their own family and home.

The intersection of restrictions and cultural norms worsens the single mothers’ situation, exposing them not only to economic hardship, but to real physical harm. In a similar vein to the simultaneity of prohibition and permission, the lack of material resources and multiple oppressions produce and reproduce their vulnerability in ways that force them to depend on the good will of their employer.

Doaa went on to describe how she regularly receives propositions from the shift manager at her workplace. She said that many employers check the family situation of the potential employee before deciding whether to hire her:

The supervisor or manager always finds out if she’s divorced or single, then he starts contacting her more and talking to her more. The talk comes close to harassment. They have a method and they don’t have any boundaries. For example, if a woman wants to get by and asks the manager to move aside, “I want to get through,” he answers, “Come sit on my lap.” ... If she goes along with it, she gets more breaks or easier work, and if not, she works harder or doesn’t work at all.

Multiple versions of this story were repeated in many interviews. Shams aptly described the consequence of refusal to cooperate with the patriarchal gaze that perceives all single mothers as permitted:

A lot of people tried to take advantage of me. For example, I reached out to a workplace. The owner realized I’m alone and told me, “Well, I’ll give you a better salary, but you have to spend a night or two with me.” That’s why I’ve never been able to work at any given place for long. They would keep me at work late so they can take what they want ... They would say, “Let’s go out and have fun, your parents aren’t here, and no one is asking, and you need money.” Always the same story. I would work for a week or two and then they [would fire] me. When I refused [the men’s propositions], they said I’m disobedient and think [too] highly of myself.

Shams’ story echoes Fineman (2010) argument that the individual experience of vulnerability varies according to the quality and quantity of resources one can possess. From this standpoint, the interviewees’ narratives clearly portray the processes in which their multiple inferior positions expose them to dangerous vulnerability, in which they have to choose between various bad options: either violate codes of family honor and consent to harassing relations at work, or be unable to provide for yourself and your children.

Discussion

The concept of vulnerability has frequently been applied in the investigation of marital and family dynamics, as it is useful for understanding power relations and gender inequality, especially among disadvantaged populations (Brown et al., 2017, 2020; Brown et al., 2020). The current research used this notion to explore gender relations with an innovative perspective on vulnerability, providing a more nuanced explanation of it in the context of women’s relationships with men. Responding to the argument that “vulnerability analysis must consider both individual position and institutional relationships” (Fineman, 2010, p. 269), we focused on such relationships among Palestinian-Israeli single mothers, a group characterized by multiple levels of marginalization and oppression (Sa’ar, 2016). Rather than conducting a deductive investigation which examines their vulnerability within these relationships from the top down (for instance, by assuming vulnerability and then mapping their relationships), we employed an inductive approach. In other words, we did not begin with the assumption of single mothers’ vulnerability, but rather exposed mechanisms that shape and increase their vulnerability.

The analysis, which underscored the intertwinement of individual life circumstances, social processes, and societal institutions, exposed the simultaneity of prohibition and permission in generating these women’s vulnerability. The women’s stories exposed a dramatic difference between the heavy prohibitions imposed on single women in the Arab society, and their daily experiences of “permitted” harassment by men. We thus provide evidence-based support for Virokannas et al. (2020) conclusion regarding the usage of such analysis in understanding vulnerability. While single mothers’ relationships with men have been widely discussed as support relations (e.g., Edin & Lein, 1997; Nelson, 2006), the extraction of social processes of oppression and marginalization allows us to conceptualize such relations as “dangerous vulnerability,” occurring within a context of severe restrictions, abandonment and tight surveillance. Under conditions of tremendous gender inequality in power relations and the superiority of the man in a highly patriarchal society, the single mothers are pushed, even coerced, into entering social and sexual relationships with men, thereby jeopardizing the “family honor” and exposing the ostensibly forbidden women to great risk. While the literature already found that women’s refusal to enter relationships with men might expose them to violence or other kind of aggression behaviors (Stratmoen et al., 2020), in the case of these women the situation is even worse: refusal to enter such relationships places them in other kinds of danger, such as having no protection from men and the inability to survive economically without the resources of a man. The single mothers are particularly vulnerable in the context of the workplace, as they are exposed to abuse and exploitation by their employers and managers whether they consent or refuse. Moreover, due to their marginal position, many of these mothers have extremely limited livelihood opportunities, such that their ability to negotiate the terms of relationships are also restricted. Given that most of the men these women have relationships with are married, and that the relationships are often kept secret, the women are not eligible for either social rights or the protection of the law, unlike women whose relationships with men are public and legal.

Our findings, which focused on the specific case of Palestinian-Israeli single mothers, reinforce studies demonstrating the vulnerability of women who belong to ethnic minorities (Choi et al., 2012; Lui, 2018), particularly single mothers (Kuronen et al., 2020). Our main contribution to literature dealing with aspects of ethnicity, minorities and the family (e.g., Lavee et al., 2021), is in revealing the mechanisms of vulnerability and highlighting the role of the state and other social institutions in producing and reproducing the women’s disadvantaged condition.

Although we have focused on a particular case, with certain unique conditions, the simultaneity of prohibition and permission in generating vulnerability may be rooted in the dynamics between abandonment and surveillance in many other locations as well (Shenhav, 2007). Thus, the mechanisms and dynamics revealed here might inform the analysis of vulnerability processes elsewhere, particularly with respect to ethnic minorities. Both Abu al-Assal (2017) and Sa’ar (2020) suggest that multiple abandonment of women takes place under the auspices of “cultural sensitivity,” which is actually a cover for colonial states and a consequence of cooperation between the state and conservative patriarchal elements. This argument is in keeping with Fineman (2010, p. 257) position that “increasingly, governments become unresponsive to those who are disadvantaged, blaming individuals for their situation and ignoring the inequities woven into the systems in which people are mired.” The current findings expand Fineman’s argument, demonstrating that while governments might provide the structure, it is individuals who deliver a daily reminder to the women about their stigmatized status.

Drawing on our findings, we can offer concrete recommendations for policy and practice, aiming to prevent dangerous vulnerability among minority women, particularly those in highly patriarchal societies. Specifically, policies and practices should aim to incorporate cultural needs and guarantee equal social rights, ensuring both awareness of such rights (e.g., laws banning sexual harassment in the workplace) and access to exercise them. Among others, such rights include support for single mothers, access to public housing, and vocational training that enables women to better integrate into the labor market. Finally, professionals who interact with marginalized individuals and groups should be given formal training that focuses on their specific cultural needs.