Abstract
After this summer’s overthrow of President Morsi, protests in the streets and political turmoil, can there ever be a revolution in attitudes to women in Egypt?
“I was hoping that the revolution would finally rid Egyptian women of the patriarchal structure and values that have been deeply rooted and embedded in society; that they would receive the recognition they deserve, and be able to occupy wider spaces in the public sphere, especially given that they were one of the main pillars of the revolution”, said Amal Elmohandes, director of the women’s rights defenders programme at Nazra for Feminist Studies, a research organisation based in Cairo.
As a young woman involved in politics, it is very difficult to have your voice heard because you are marginalised as a woman and you are marginalised as a young person
The role of women in the struggles of the past two years has been highlighted in newspapers and on television bulletins. And for many there was a sense that for women in Egypt, this was going to be a time of change. “There has been a rupture between before, when access to politics was difficult for everyone, and after the revolution,” said Dina Wahba, Egyptian feminist and political activist. “The atmosphere changed and people somehow romanticised the revolution.”
During live streaming from Tahrir Square during the 25 January 2011 revolution, the voices of women could be heard reverberating across the crowds. Defiant and outspoken, these women and girls from all sectors and areas of Egyptian society were at the heart of the struggle leading up to the fall of Hosni Mubarak and have been emphatic in their demands for a better future. However, as the transition progressed, women’s presence in public and political spheres did not reflect their role in the protests.
Elmohandes was among many women who were hopeful that life for Egyptian women was going to change after the January 2011 revolution. But the exclusion of women from top political positions, attacks on female demonstrators, and daily sexual harassment didn’t stop, and some argue they have become worse.
As the streets of Cairo filled up again on 30 June 2013, leading to the ousting of President Mohamed Morsi, women participated in demonstrations on a massive scale again. With a disputed interim government in place, ongoing protests and army tanks deployed on the streets to maintain national peace, the situation remains unstable and unpredictable. Uncertainty lingers over the place of Egyptian women in this new phase of the country’s development.
A powerful image that appeared on one of Cairo’s walls during the revolution represents the ancient Egyptian queen Nefertiti with a tear gas mask. The mural, by graffiti artist el Zeft, is a tribute to women’s bravery in battle and implicitly defends their right to equality. It is also a reminder of ancient Egypt, when women could be pharaohs and enjoyed equal status with men. Unlike in most other ancient societies, Egyptian women of the time enjoyed the same legal and economic rights as men.
Today’s modernisers can draw on the strength of those ancient Egyptian role models. During the initial 18 days of the 2011 revolution, women played an indispensable role socially and politically. Some women formed clinics in the square and inside the Omar Makram mosque, whilst others were part of committees that were stationed on the edges of Tahrir Square in order to search protesters for weapons. In the initial phase of the transitional period, they began to be excluded from decision-making and not given the opportunity to play a formal role in the process of reform under way.
“Right after the revolution, it was obvious that women were being excluded. Their voices could not be heard and they started to be marginalised. Hate speech against women spread. Women became scared of losing what they had gained and achieved,” said Wahba, who has been involved in several initiatives that aim to promote women’s rights and women’s representation in the political life post-revolution.
When an advisory committee, the Committee of Wise Men, was formed during the uprising in January 2011 it included only one woman among its 30 members. Just before the country’s first free and fair parliamentary elections, the legislative committee of the Shura Council abolished the quota system, which had reserved 64 People’s Assembly seats for women. Not surprisingly, then, only eight women were elected to parliament out of 508, compared to 60 women in 2010 before the quota was rendered obsolete. The marginalisation of women manifested itself in different forms before and during President Morsi’s rule. Women were excluded from the constitutional drafting process and some political parties have questioned and attempted to tamper with the established elements of women’s rights legislation, including divorce and custody laws, protection against female genital mutilation, and limits on age of marriage.
the Shura Council’s human rights committee issued a controversial statement implying that women taking part in protests bear the responsibility of being sexually harassed
Meanwhile, the drafters of the new constitution proceeded to place impediments to women’s right to speak out and participate in public life. Article 10 of the currently suspended Egyptian constitution states: “The state shall provide free motherhood and childhood services and shall balance between a woman’s obligations toward the family and public work. The state shall provide for special care and protection for single mothers, divorced women and widows.”
Such an article risks confining women solely to the role of carer. “The state’s role should be confined to ensuring equality and non-discrimination, without interfering with a women’s choices about her life, family, and profession or to justify discrimination on that basis,” Human Rights Watch said. Meanwhile, women have won some battles. Opposition to a proposed controversial clause in the constitution suggesting the equality of men and woman would be subject to the rules of “Islamic jurisprudence” led to the clause being dropped.
ABOVE: Street artist El Zeft’s protest poster supporting women in Egypt
Credit: El Zeft/Gzoly
However, not one woman was selected to be a state governor, and in February 2013, the Shura Council made the controversial decision of reversing a legal condition requiring female parliamentary candidates to be listed at the top of electorial lists. Women’s rights activists deplored this ruling as a serious setback for women’s representation in the highest decision-making spheres. They noted that not only men but also the few women sitting at the Shura Council and in parliament maintained a conservative stance.
“Chauvinistic rationalisation is evident among all political parties, including the liberal ones. No real focus is placed on gender and women’s issues, and the rise in the heinous sexual assaults and mob attacks, and the non-existent response from the entire society, government and political groups and parties, is a seriously negative sign and even bad omen for what shall come next. Women have been attacked right, left and centre since the start of the revolution – by both state and non-state actors that claimed to call for social justice and equality,” said Elmohandes.
Wahba, a founding member of the Egyptian Social Democratic Party, said: “As a young woman involved in politics, it is very difficult to have your voice heard because you are marginalised as a woman and you are marginalised as a young person. Yet I am lucky because in my party we have a very strong women’s committee. This is encouraging, but there still is so much to do.”
Despite being under-represented in the political arena, women have still been eager to participate in Egypt’s post-2011 overhaul, with more than 50 marches organised by women’s groups in 2012. However, the increase in sexual violence has undermined such initiatives. Women’s symbolic and physical exclusion reached a high point with the escalation of mob attacks on female protesters in and around Tahrir Square.
Tahrir – which means freedom in Arabic – is more than a square, it is the symbol of Egyptian people’s voice, especially after Egyptian people united and overthrew Hosni Mubarak’s authoritarian regime. Because of this, attempts to ban women from this square symbolically highlight the social and political exclusion of women. While the use of sexual violence as a political tool against women in protests is not a new phenomenon in Egypt, it has escalated. Whether committed by the Mubarak regime, the police, the military, political supporters or thugs, sexual violence and the impunity accompanying it are symptoms of deep-rooted social stigma and prejudice towards women’s role in society. In recent mass gatherings and protests of June and July 2013 to oust President Morsi, two organisations, Nazra for Feminist Studies and Operation Anti-Sexual Harassment, documented a total of at least 186 cases ranging from group sexual harassment and assault to violent rape of at least three female protesters.
The phenomenon has been called “sexual terrorism”, with rumours of thugs being paid to assault female protesters. The lack of political will to address such a phenomenon and the time it took for public opinion to condemn such practices reveals the degree to which gender equality had increased. Worse, in February 2013, the Shura Council’s human rights committee issued a controversial statement implying that women taking part in protests bear the responsibility of being sexually harassed. The most provocative statements described what happened in some demonstrators’ tents as “prostitution”, while others called on women not to stand among men during protests, or not to go to protests at all.
The tragedy of sexual violence and the former government’s response are a reflection of the biggest impediment in any Egyptian woman’s life: cultural and societal barriers. Women’s marginalisation in politics is complex and cannot be explained only by the removal of quota laws, the lack of female candidates and sexual harassment. Elmohandes says it was not just the authorities that were responsible for women’s marginalisation. “People are not open to the idea of the presence of the woman in the public sphere.” Despite women’s skills and presence in almost all professional sectors, they still face obstacles to being represented in politics, whether in ministerial or mayoral positions. In 2012, Egypt dropped three places on the Global Gender Gap Index, ranking 126 out of 135, as a result of worsening perception of wage equality between women and men for similar work and a decrease in enrolment in secondary education. The report also shows that Egypt ranks tenth from the bottom in female political empowerment.
Legislative change is necessary to protect and empower women, but even with quotas and parity laws, which would promote and advance gender justice, there has to be a true intent to upgrade women’s participation and representation in society. This can and has to be done both at the national and local levels.
At the national level, it is possible to launch awareness campaigns and educational tools promoting women’s rights, fighting gender violence and nequality. At the local level, community workshops and programmes aimed at increasing women’s literacy, economic independence, and self-confidence have already showed results. For example, the Association for the Development and Empowerment of Women (ADEW) has been working on helping women, especially heads of households, learn more about their legal, economic, social, political and cultural rights to give them more power within society.
Tahrir – which means freedom in Arabic – is more than a square, it is the symbol of Egyptian people’s voice, especially after people united and overthrew Hosni Mubarak’s authoritarian regime
Women such as Om Ali, a community leader and microcredit recipient in a deprived area on the edge of Cairo, epitomises what a community workshop can achieve. Her story demonstrates the benefits of a bottom-up approach, which can not only empower women, it can be extremely effective in changing social perceptions and strengthening women’s voices in the community (see sidebar).
In light of 30 June 2013, many challenges stand in the way of Egyptian women’s access to public spaces. According to human rights defender Ghada Shahbendar, hope lies in the empowerment of not just women, but also young people: “I call 25 January the revolution of youth and women. Egypt has a very young population – average age is 24.5, the majority of Egyptians are under the age of 30 – and that is our demographic gift.” Shahbendar believes that the key lies in empowering young women who will be the leaders of tomorrow, while challenging “the very small fraction of Egyptian society resisting change”. “I can see it coming,” she adds on a positive note. Wahba, the politician, shares Shahbendar’s views: “I think it is crucial to empower youth, and when doing so, we need to empower young women, not only young men. Pushing women to the frontlines and making sure that they are represented in all the decision-making places is essential. We need to support women committees in political parties, capacity building, and ensure that they have a voice.”
The overthrow of Morsi’s government makes things uncertain for women’s future. While the newly appointed interim president, Adly Mansour, has chosen few female ministers – the new interim government has three female ministers out of 33 – women need to be further integrated into the new roadmap and not be confined to women’s portfolios. It is of paramount importance for women leaders to branch out beyond women-only committees and ministries. At the same time, awareness campaigns and support to women empowerment programmes at the community level can make a difference. “My hope is to have a constitution that guarantees women’s rights, to have more women ministers, more women governors, more women holding responsible positions at the local level, women mayors and at town councils, but also more women within internal political parties, quotas, and more women being heads of political parties. I see the increasing political participation after the revolution as a window of opportunity,” insists Dina Wahba. “Representing women from all sectors and classes, all religions, in politics is crucial.”
Guaranteeing women access to freedom of expression and protecting their participation in public and political spaces is vital both to support the Egyptian transition and development process and as a development goal in its own right. “The struggle of women in Egypt continues on several fronts, and the struggle keeps increasing every day,” said Elmohandes.
………………… Om Ali’s story As I entered Om Ali’s home, two rooms on the second floor of a small cement building on the edge of Cairo, she apologised for the mess and timidly adjusted her scarf. She started making tea, boiling water on a portable gas stove and lining up glasses on a dented aluminium tray. As we finished our cup s of tea, Om Ali told me her story. She spoke in a calm and resolute manner: “Before this I was doing nothing, I didn’t used to do anything, I was just sitting like this all day, without thinking, waiting for my husband to come back from work, because he made the money.” Om Ali was one of many who worked with the Association for the Development and Empowerment of Women (ADEW), a local women’s NGO that teaches women social empowerment skills. Prior to this work, her life plan looked to be sketched out for her by society and her poverty. It was expected that she would become a wife and that this would be her main function in life. But then she learned to read, thanks to ADEW. Her relationship with her family, and most importantly with her husband, changed as she learnt skills that could help her make money: “Before if we clashed or if we had a misunderstanding, I had to conform and I had to submit because he was the man of the house and I couldn’t do anything. But after I joined the literacy and micro credit programme, we had to be equal.” He told her: “You earn money, I earn money, you’re educated, I’m educated.” “Now at least I can educate my girls, at least I can read, at least I am able to prepare my girls to be married,” Om Ali explained, while showing me photos of the family wedding on the wall. Om Ali, who lives in Gamaa Amr, was one of ADEW’s first beneficiaries 25 years ago. She attended literacy courses, obtained identity papers and participated in various workshops on boosting self-esteem, improving decision-making and negotiation skills, whilst encouraging participation in public life. She also joined ADEW’s micro credit programme, like many other women in her neighbourhood. “At least now we can read, we understand, we know what is going on in the world. At least now we’re able to deal with one another, we’re able to deal with people, I now know how to communicate. This is something we weren’t able to do. And now I am a micro credit facilitator, I am not only a recipient. I am respected in the community. When people have problems, they come to see me, they listen to me, I have influence.” Om Ali is proud of her achievements and now identifies herself as a “head of household”. Economic independence, literacy and self-confidence contributed to raise Om Ali’s interest in and access to politics. “You know in Egypt before the [2011] revolution when you wanted to vote, you had to have a voting ID, not just your ID. Back then, ADEW took us to the police station to issue our voting ID. I was able to choose.” Other women like Om Ali have benefited from this bottom-up approach, which aims to empower women to become active participants in their own development and informed decision-makers in their home and communities. Part of this approach at the community level is also about changing misconceptions about women’s roles. ADEW project manager Sarah Hani explains how women find ways around family restrictions and social constraints to attend ADEW’s programmes, such as Arab Women Speak Out (AWSO): “Some women do not tell their husbands what kind of programme this is, they just say it’s a purely educational one, mentioning nothing about the social empowerment aspect of it. Others tell their husbands a very brief idea on what they take in the classes so that their husbands are reassured and know what their wives are doing while they’re not at home. Others try to pass on to their husbands what they learn from the lessons, to keep their husbands on the same page as them.” The idea of women being the main breadwinner of their households is still sensitive, especially after the revolution, when many businesses have shut down, and many men have lost their jobs. As Om Ali said: “Nowadays in this area, it’s the women who really make the income. Especially if you get out in the neighbourhood in the morning you find so many women out in the streets selling breakfast for kids, for parents, and now if you go out in the streets you find mostly men sitting in the coffee shops, drinking tea, smoking shisha and whatever. Now it’s the time for women, they’re the ones who have a job, because of the micro credit programme.” Hani emphasises why it is important for women’s voices to be heard at home – and in order to be heard in parliament, especially after the 2011 revolution. “These communities’ sense of public participation started to rise, they started becoming more engaged in public life, caring to go to vote because they were economically affected, and that’s when those people feel the sense that they need to take part in the country’s public life.” Supporting women’s rights and empowerment at the community level can be just as powerful, as it helps create a necessary foundation for amplifying women’s voices in Egypt’s public spaces.