Improvements in Pakistan’s rape laws

Although sexual violence is endemic in a country like Pakistan, recently there has been some good news on the legal front: laws have been fine-tuned, and in some cases, changed, in order to help victims of rape with the legal process of reporting the crime and taking it to court.

This was the crux of a recent news article by Mahim Maher, who had gone to Hyderabad for a WAR (War Against Rape, one of Pakistan’s most critical women’s organizations) conference on rape and sexual assault. There, Sarah Zaman, who headed WAR for six years, elaborated on these changes to the laws, which I will summarize here:

Rape no longer falls under General Zia’s notorious Hudood Ordinances: Rape has been deemed a separate offence from adultery since 2006, when the Protection of Women (Criminal Law Amendment) Act was passed. It now comes under the ambit of Section 375 in the Pakistan Penal Code. Ten years later, in 2016, the Criminal Law (Amendment) (Offense of Rape) Act 2016 meant that women in Pakistan no longer go to jail for reporting rape and being accused of adultery. The significance of this change cannot be stressed enough: it means the culture of refusing to report rape cases out of fear of going to jail has been recognized as an obstacle to legal recourse for rape victims.

Negligence of public servants refusing to register a rape case can result in jail time for the official: Neglecting to investigate a rape case can result in a three year jail term for any medico-legal officer, police officer or any other government servant under Section 166(2) of the Pakistan Penal Code.

A formal judgment on a rape case must come within three months of the case being filed, and an appeal has to be adjucated six months from the original rape conviction. Under the Code of Criminal Procedure  Section 344(A), if this does not happen, the case is then sent to the Chief Justice of the High Court.

Rape cases can no longer be settled through “compromise,” jirga, or any other extra-judicial, parallel legal system. This too was abolished in 2006 under the Protection of Women Act.

The rape victim’s identity must not be disclosed: the Code of Criminal Procedure  Section 352 states that a rape trial must be conducted “in camera”, that means in a judge’s chamber or private place. The victim’s identity can be concealed using screens or a video link for her testimony. Her identity is not to be broadcast anywhere without the court’s explicit permission.

Right to legal representation and female supervision: The victim must be informed of her right to legal representation, and an investigation officer (IO) will register the case in the presence of a female police officer, or female family member. The presence of another woman is a vital change: it is common knowledge that many rape victims have gone to register their cases, been separated from their family members, and assaulted again. This happens a lot to trans women who go to the police station as well. Sections 161A and 164A of the Criminal Procedure Code cover these requirements.

DNA in rape cases: although men have fought hard against this change, it is now a requirement that DNA be collected in a rape case within 72 hours, to prove that sexual intercourse took place. A medico-legal examination can prove that the said intercourse happened by force. (Maher’s article elaborates on the difficulties of collecting DNA in rape cases in Pakistan). This is covered by Section 164B of the Criminal Procedure Code.

Previous sexual history no longer relevant: You cannot bring up a woman’s past sexual history in a rape trial in order to destroy her credibility as a victim, after the deletion of the Section 151(4) Qanun-e-Shahadat (Law of Evidence) 1984. It has always been the thinking that if a woman was not a virgin, she could not claim rape. This law is meant to counter that chauvinistic assertion. Neither can a woman’s past history be used to assert that she is immoral, and somehow invited the alleged perpetrator to rape her.

We have a long way to go in Pakistan (and indeed the world) in terms of how well rape cases are prosecuted and how frequently rapists are convicted. Around the world, conviction rates for rape are shockingly low, because men have created the legal systems. But thanks to the untiring efforts of women activists in Pakistan, these absolutely vital changes have been adopted in Pakistani law. Procedural implementation is another story, but all stories have to start somewhere.

We need to work now on eliminating the humiliating two-finger test in the medico-legal procedure of medical examination after rape, which is meant to prove that a girl or woman is not a virgin. I remember looking at a friend’s medico-legal textbook and seeing images of a woman’s vagina with and without a hymen. The absolute barbarity and inhumanity of such a qualifier of a woman’s purity has no place in the desperate and delicate hours and days after a woman or girl has been raped. It is, in the words of the Times of India, “unscientific, illogical and illegal” (it was outlawed in India). It is also another type of assault on a woman’s body, and can lead to bleeding, the transmission of disease, and psychological trauma.

I urge Pakistan’s lawmakers to eliminate this from the medico-legal textbooks and procedures. We must restore the dignity of those girls and women who have been raped or otherwise sexually assaulted, and an invasive, unnecessary test that reinforces our medieval thinking about women and purity has no place in our lawbooks and medical schools in the 21st century.

What improvements we have may seem so little to those with Western eyes. But every change to our laws, every improvement, is a chip knocked out of rape culture in Pakistan, and a triumph for women’s rights, which are so desperately needed in our country. Let me make it perfectly clear once more: Islam may give women their rights, but men have taken them away.

We need feminist action to pressure lawmakers into creating mechanisms that protect the rights of girls and women. Just like these improvements in the laws, and the mechanisms that make it easier for women and girls to report rape and to bring the rapists to justice, they will come about through women’s work, not the empty mouthings of religious men, who have traditionally tried to block all pro-women laws in Pakistan and still oppose a domestic violence law and a law raising the age of marriage for girls from 16 to 18.

 

 

 

Suicide by Smartphone

Everywhere I go, there is a group of young women engaged in an endless photoshoot: screaming with laughter, posing for group photos, selfies or taken by waiters or other hapless staff. At cafes. Libraries. Concerts. Funerals. It is Dante’s 11th circle of hell.

Certainly there is fun in capturing a joyful moment, but I did not see much joy on the many occasions I observed a group of women doing this. Twenty plus minutes of fidgeting, adjusting clothes, posing from this way and that, retaking the photo, looks of frustration, displeasure, anxiety… this is not fun. This is work. For whom? For what?

Why must young women perform happiness in public, to show to others how happy they are? Is happiness the only emotion they should display? Does there need to be a display?

When I was young, I thought my friends and I were the center of the universe. But we kept one eye trained on the world, readying ourselves for the sucker punch, the assault, the attack. We knew the world was not kind but we still wanted to take it on.

Today’s young women risk simply disappearing inside themselves, instead of orienting themselves to the world. In their fear and anticipation of the outside attack, they carve out pieces of themselves and offer it to the world in pixels and bytes, hoping the world will be kinder. It won’t.

This is what others have called the Selfie Generation. Always posing, always performing, never a moment out of the lens or the limelight. “Look how young and beautiful we are! See how we throw our heads back and laugh! Everyone envies us, wants to be us, wishes they were amongst us. We have taken the power of beauty into our own hands. We deal in the currency that men have always made out of us; we set the rate and determine the price. We are master and slave, goods and services, owner and property all at once. Are you watching me? Are you watching me? If you don’t watch me, do I even exist?”

Beauty bloggers, health and fitness and wellness influencers, role models and inspirational figures drowning in the “poetry” of Rupi Kaur and Lang Leav. Drenched in self-regard, growing smaller instead of larger. The continuous inward look, the self-scrutiny. They think the world is watching them. It isn’t. It is merely waiting for them to get over themselves before offering its own gifts and poisons to them.

Men kill themselves instantly and brutally with guns; women do it slowly, with smartphones trained on themselves like precision weapons, pointing out every flaw. They pore over their pictures later, devouring themselves like self-eating pythons. One in five girls in the UK self-harms because of an inability to cope with the stress of life. An empty stomach awash in its own digestive acid will start to consume itself.

The Instagram filter is the most anti-feminist device I know. It has turned today’s young women into their own pornographers. They do not deal in the pornography of the body, but the cannibalization of the soul. They give away that which cannot be redeemed through popularity and influence. There is a reason people from tribal cultures feared having their photographs taken; they feared the camera would steal a piece of their soul.

They were right.

EDIT: Since publishing the first paragraph of this very short essay on Twitter, I have received a lot of pushback from people — women, mostly — telling me that I’m policing young women, that they’re having fun, that they should be loud in public spaces without fear, so on and so forth. I’m afraid that wasn’t the point of this essay.

It was also pointed out to me that men and middle-aged women also engage in these moments. Yes, they do. But I would argue that the camera gaze affects young women in the early stages of identity formation in vastly different ways.

I wonder what the reaction to my thoughts would be if I identified those women as “aunties,” “begums,” “upper class,” “designer-clad”, or anything else…

AND FINALLY… This is just an essay. Just an opinion. It is not a recipe for solving all the world’s problems. These are my thoughts, metaphorical and philosophical. Interpret them literally at your peril.

On being fired for abusing someone’s mother on Twitter + Guest Post by Hareem Sumbul

Earlier this week, a furore erupted on Pakistani Twitter. The editor of Dawn’s Eos magazine, filmmaker Hasan Zaidi, made a negative remark about the delay in broadcasting Prime Minister Imran Khan’s budget speech. In response, a bank manager at Bank Al-Falah by the name of Fazeel Tajammul responded: “He was waiting for your mother to shut her brothel.”

Zaidi was infuriated by this insult to his mother. He reached out to his personal contacts at the bank with a complaint. As a result, the employee was fired.

Twitter went mad with talk about this situation. Why fire the man? Hadn’t he made a mistake? Hadn’t he exercised freedom of speech? Hadn’t Zaidi made similar abusive statements on Twitter? Why shouldn’t Zaidi be fired from the Dawn in return (people dug up his old tweets to prove that he too had been doing the same thing, and was nothing better than a hypocrite). Should discharging a man from his duties be the appropriate punishment for letting loose on Twitter from a personal media account? Wasn’t the punishment excessive?

Well, I don’t think so, even though a couple of years ago, I encountered a group of right-wing racists in America got after me on Twitter because I told a white woman to shut up and stop spouting her misconceptions about Muslim women. They all started tagging the New York Times and saying I should be fired for being racist.

The Times is used to this sort of attack on their journalists as most newspapers are and of course, did not fire me. That was their policy. Banks and other corporate organizations have different policies, requiring employees to be much more discreet, even if tweeting in a personal capacity. So do European and western Foreign Ministries, whose ambassadors and other diplomats have to be very careful what they say on Twitter. Some are not even allowed to have a personal Twitter account.

So, it is absolutely correct to say that different organizations have different standards, which should be made clear to employees. However, you as an individual could always err on the side of caution and try to be responsible, especially if you have a social media presence not restricted to Twitter — a LinkedIn account, as in the case of this Bank Al Falah employee. A bank is not really known for its support of freedom of expression, but newspapers and the media are — within limits, but those limits differ for each profession.

Imagine coming home to your family and having this conversation:
You: I got fired today.
Them: WHAT? WHY?
You: I called someone’s mother a prostitute and said they run a brothel.
Them: YOU DID THAT? You said that? To whom, a customer? A colleague? YOUR BOSS? I CAN’T BELIEVE IT. WHAT KIND OF PERSON DID I RAISE?
You: Oh, no, I said it on Twitter to a famous journalist.
Them: Oh, that’s okay then.

We love to tell everyone that Islam says heaven lies at the feet of your mother, but we don’t bat an eyelash when someone calls your mother a prostitute? Hypocrisy runs both ways.

Admittedly, I have told people to f*** off when they have trolled me in the past, or sent me death or rape threats. I don’t think twice about it, because I’m not “employed” by anyone. There is a lot of provocation aimed at those of us who have anything to do with the media. I’ve lost count of the number of times someone’s accused me of being a “lifafa”, that is, a journalist who takes payment to write in favor/against political parties, even though I don’t write about politics and I’m barely a journalist. Add to that the factor of my being a woman and you can imagine how the abuse increases exponentially: gender as well as profession are now grounds for being threatened with violence, online and offline.

People like Tajammul make Twitter an extremely unsafe space for women. I realized this when I read a post by Hareem Sumbul. Her impassioned Facebook post about this incident really got me thinking about the sexual politics of this incident. I am reproducing it here with her permission. It is long, it is heartfelt, and full of pain. And it is powerful testimony to how men like Tajammul make Pakistani women feel, every day of their lives, in every walk of life, in every situation and circumstance and social milieu.


There’s a magical thing that happened yesterday.
Someone got slapped for being rude.

Let me elaborate

A qualified Chartered Accountant from ICAP was laying out abuses for everyone and their mothers and a Bank fired him for doing that.
Let that sink in.
A man. Born with the appendage that gives them a privilege that is so deep set, NO ONE even notices any more.
A Chartered Accountant that qualifies from one of the most prestigious governing bodies in the country that uses relative marking and the world loses its crap at the controlled number of candidates they pass every attempt.
At a senior/ managerial post at a prestigious bank.

Got fired.

At calling a stranger’s mother a prostitute over Twitter.
And retweeting mentions of vag*na widening as a metaphor.
And tweeting more such masterpieces.

Makes sense? Deserved it? Well. They came in hoards, to protect him and cheer him on.

Not the guy who got him fired. But the one who proudly dragged every inkling of a woman close to anyone out by the hair, stark naked, painting them with allegations of his choice. Just as a figure of speech. Casually. Every now and then.

I’m trying very hard to keep it apolitical and discuss just the men and not their political affiliation for once because I don’t want this to get lost in the political drama. Needless to say there is one.

Freedom of speech they say. He wasn’t on duty they say.
This is the first time ever that a privileged man has been checked and penalised for being abusive on social media. At least the first that made as much noise or one that I know of.
That clarified that

Freedom of Speech does not mean you can be rude

There is still decorum. There is still civilised behaviour that needs to be kept in mind. There are respectful ways to disagree or options to take if you really don’t like someone instead of resorting to abuse.

Has anyone ever seen the gutters that open up under pictures of celebrities or even public news posts over social media? The filth that boils over?

The impunity that comes with Internet has empowered a lot that would piss their pants in real life if they stood in front of me yet, have the audacity to send me twenty inboxed messages a day telling me all they want to do with my genitalia.

It was bad with cellphones when they were launched. This was a personal phone that daddy or brother dear won’t answer before the women of the household. This was direct access to the Laydiss!

I’ve had abusive callers that spanned over years, I call them that because they aren’t pranking anyone. They’re abusing my right to my personal space every time they wont quit calling or messaging disgusting stuff at odd hours.

Some would lay off if I would hand the phone to a man. A husband or even a colleague. Somehow men seem to be like magnets, proximity to another similar pole is the only thing that’ll unhinge them from the disgusting behaviour they have internalised as an integral part of “being a man”. Some were even broken at that.

Then came the era of the “blocking option”. So much more women-friendly. Quiet, clean, no fuss no muss. So here is someone jerking off to the things they’re typing out to you and had their day nicely ending while after you’re done vomiting in your own mouth, you demurely click ‘block’ while he turns over in bed planning the next day’s session of text messaging another girl with their stuff.

So appropriate.

With Social Media, I feel most men confuse it with Live Option for P*rn.
They think they can say all sorts of things and it’ll get lost in the cyber world and their mummy wont see it.
It’s like the cigarette they smoked in the bathroom with their a** hovering over the pot while they stick their face in the little window.
Dude.
It’s the Bhangra in the middle of the road with your current and most of future families AND Employers watching.

So this one time this man gets whacked and all the masturbating murghaas come to his rescue. Let me correct that. Come to his support. Not rescue. Because he can’t be.

Do they realise that every time they type “We are with you bro”, they aren’t supporting freedom of speech. They’re supporting someone who is continuously hurling abuse at women he doesn’t even know. God help those he works with or actually knows. I can’t imagine how they would feel had they known this is how he tweets? From his Twitter. Pun intended wholeheartedly.

(I have nothing against masturbation. I think self pleasuring is great. As long as you’re not doing it at the expense of someone else’s respect in the middle of Naagan Chowrangi.)

The fact is, I know these types. Sadly. Being affiliated to Accountancy as a career, I have seen this lot. I have choked on my own tears, I have spoken up against it and eventually I have curbed it in teams.

They will usually not say anything in the presence of a woman but the second you turn your back, the train of mughallizaat (abuses) that follows as “casual boy talk” will make your eyes water and ears bleed.

In my two decades of corporate work experience, I have cried in bathrooms at the language being casually used around me right up to throwing back similar misogynistic abuse in their face.

I’ll tell you one thing. Nothing worked.

I. As a working woman. Suffered. Not at the surface but it broke something inside me that stands irreparable perhaps.

Why do I as a woman get damned to bear witness to so many of these everyday? Do I as a woman make a man as uncomfortable going about his life or routine in a public space?
Why is public space so hostile towards me as a woman, physical or The interwebs?
These are the questions we have lost any sensitivity to even PERCEIVE, let alone ask.

Yet this one time. This man gets shot down. By another man. Which is what is good and sad at the same time.
Good because we need more men who stand up to protect women, acknowledging their privilege over space yet still giving respect to all, including women.
Sad because if it were a woman speaking up against him, she would’ve been ripped naked over social media by now and nothing would’ve happened.

This. My friends. Is the reality we live through. Every single day.

Raise your sons to be a Hasan Zaidi. Not a Fazeel Tajammul

— Hareem Sumbul

Feminism in Muslim Countries

I’ve published a long essay on the topic of feminism in Muslim countries in the FAZ Quarterly (that’s the magazine of one of Germany’s biggest newspapers, the Frankfurter Allemagne Zeitung). It’s not online yet but here’s a sneak peek at some of it. Thanks to my agent Dorle Kopetzky and the editors at FAZ Quarterly for giving me the chance to present the argument that Islam and feminism are indeed compatible.

Be

At first, I did not exist. I was not, and then I was.

Someone said “Be!” and I was.

I did not choose this. My mother did not choose this. My father did not choose this.

And yet it happened. I happened. Be!

And I was.

 

Who decided that I would Be?

To whom did I give my consent

To become that clump of cells, the leech, the clot

I did not have a mouth with which to form words. I did not have a brain

With which to form thought. And yet, I was

Poured into my mother’s womb like honey from the hive

My father’s semen, dumb things, wagging their tails

Obedient drones, flying toward the Queen

Be!

 

At first, I was not, and then I was. Forty-six.

Two became four, four became eight, eight sixteen,

The first atom, encircled by electrons and positrons

Satellites orbiting the center.

Who told them which way to whirl,

Clockwise or counterclockwise,

like pilgrims swarming the four-sided hive

Who wrote the formulae that summoned the cosmos into existence?

 

Each day I rested in her womb, my mother spun me like Scheherazade spinning

Tales for the sultan to prolong her life.

My mother spun me like a tale to give me life

Each day adding a new chapter to the book.

Hour by hour, day by day I took shape. Alaqa to Mughdah

The leech, the clot gave way to the chewed up piece of meat.

The teeth marks clearly visible, each indentation a grain of rice

We are all chewed-up things, the universe does not differentiate

Between the largest whale (Jonah’s abode) and the smallest spider (Ankabut)

We are all tales waiting to be told.

 

When it came time for me to be ensouled,

My bones knitting together, my organs taking shape

Muscles clothing the bones, then skin knitting over the muscles

The pain of labor does not compare to the pain of ensoulment

Of being imprisoned in the body: A trap, a snare, a web, a black hole,

The three veils of darkness covering this crime,

Who is its perpetrator?

 

When it was decided I would be born, it was a violent expulsion, a nakba

Pushed out from the womb with blood and sweat,

I crossed the waters of my mother’s amniotic fluid in a leaky boat

Made a refugee, I was an immigrant into this world.

Forgetting the darkness, I  remember only that I do not belong here,

this body, this life is only a holding cell.

I am here for reasons I cannot fathom, at the will of one whom I do not know

At the mercy of those who do not know what they did

To deserve me.

 

Yet I was not, before, and now I am, and

Now, bereft, blind, wordless and helpless, I am here,

And now what do I do? Without knowing why, I struggled to be here, yet

Nobody is ashamed at what has been wrought upon me

Even the sword feels shame when it is asked to behead the innocent.

 

 

A poem inspired by the passage of the anti-abortion law in Alabama. This poem utilizes imagery in Islam that describes the conception and development of a fetus in the womb.

Women and Power in Game of Thrones

** slight spoiler*

 

So people are getting upset that the GoT writers took a major female character who they were building up as the great white hope for the Seven Kingdoms and turned her into a demonic fire bitch mad queen. Bree Newsome said this was typical of white feminism — saving oppressed brown folk, letting the Black woman die in her place, destroying everything when she couldn’t get what she wanted (I avoid using the term white feminism, I find it unhelpful).

However, throughout history, female leaders of any color have been ruthless and often burned everything down to the ground. Catherine the Great is the best example. She wanted to be “defender of oppressed innocence” but was opposed to educating commoners. She put down a Cossack rebellion and crushed a Polish one. She drove her army on a bloody war against the Ottomans. She annexed Crimea. Thousands died under her reign.

How about Elizabeth I who beheaded Mary Queen of Scots? Or, in modern times, Indira Gandhi who ordered the storming of the Golden Temple which caused the deaths of 3000 people, including Sikh pilgrims? Golda Meir, who was derogatory towards feminists and promoted the ethnic cleansing of Palestinians? Aung Sang Suu Kyi, the world’s biggest disappointment?

So  Daenerys Targaryen’s turn into madness, cruelty and insanity is only a slight exaggeration of what has already happened when women are at the reigns of power. History bears us out on this one, and I think the GoT writers made the right choice in allowing Daenerys to be human, rather than a woman on a pedestal.

To hold women to some sort of ideal, to expect them to remain moral and just simply because of their gender is as much an idealized vision of women as it is contrary to human nature.

I think the Mother of Dragons’s lesson is this: she wants love and she wants power, but she cannot have both, because ruling people absolutely means crushing dissent. And this is something that gender cannot allay; it is the way of the world.

The last paragraph of this short essay by Josie Glausiuz on the nature of women and power says it all: “It is, indeed, a stereotype to dismiss women as inherently peaceable. As Swanwick wrote in The Future of the Women’s Movement (1913): ‘I wish to disclaim altogether the kind of assumption … in feminist talk of the present day.’ That is, ‘the assumption that men have been the barbarians who loved physical force, and that women alone were civilised and civilising. There are no signs of this in literature or history’.”

 

 

(Recommended reading: Women and Power by Mary Beard)

Marrying Children: A Pakistani Right?

This is an important news story, highlighting efforts by progressive lawmakers and politicians to end child marriage in Pakistan: Pakistan passes bill to end child marriage amid anger from religious parties – The National

Efforts to pass a nationwide law raising the legal age of marriage of all Pakistani citizens – not just men – to 18 have usually been met with stiff opposition from religious parties. Two previous bills were tabled by Senator Sehar Kamran in 2017 and MNAs Marvi Memon and Dr. Attiya Inayatullah in the National Assembly in 2010. Those bills failed; only the province of Sindh has been able to make it illegal for a girl under 18 to be married, thanks to efforts of the PPP, which in this aspect remains one of the most progressive political parties in the country. Still, implementation remains a major challenge, while every other province in Pakistan has rejected similar measures.

These bills have always been defeated by religious parties who claim restricting marriage is against Islam. Our religion does not define any set minimum age for marriage; it only requires that people be of age physically, emotionally and mentally. No surprise that religious clerics (and many conservative Pakistanis) only choose to look at the physical aspect of maturity; they cruelly argue that as soon as a girl begins to menstruate she is ready for marriage. They completely ignore the scientific evidence that shows how early pregnancy is a complete disaster for a teenage girl’s health. They also ignore the statistics that show how Pakistan has one of the highest rates of maternal mortality because of early pregnancy. They cling to a medieval vision of Islam rather than opting for a modern, progressive version that could propel this nation into the 21st century.

Even though this has been done in other Muslim countries — the Saudi Shura has set the age of puberty at 18; Al-Azhar University in Cairo, the major seat of Sunni Islamic scholarship, has passed a similar fatwa; in the UAE, Turkey and Oman, Morocco and Bangladesh it is illegal for a girl to be married before 18 — our religious scholars wish to go against the grain and cling on to their desire that a girl should be ripe and ready for marriage even if she is as young as 8. I do not think their interest is in allowing a 60 year old woman to marry a 16 year old boy, but that could just be the cynic in me.

There is another element to why the bill continues to be defeated, and it is related to political rivalry in Pakistan. If a senator or legislator from one party raises the bill, members of rival parties will try to sink it. In the case of this bill, the House Committee, which comprised of members of various parties including the PPP, PML-N and PTI, approved the bill, but when it came to the entire Senate, the ruling party PTI (Imran Khan’s party) abstained from voting, while the two major religious parties JUI and JI opposed the bill and said it should be sent back to the Council of Islamic Ideology, which is an advisory body with a great deal of influence over Pakistani lawmaking.

Even in the past, when PML-N Senator Sehr Kamran moved her bill in the National Assembly in 2017, the standing committee headed by PPP’s Senator Rehman Malik was the one to strike the bill down and declare it against Islamic injunctions. This is not a clear-cut issue of men versus women: female members of the religious parties have in the past opposed bills banning child marriage; women will betray each other for a share of power, it seems. Nor are these tactics restricted to child marriage: religious parties oppose any idea of family planning, even though Pakistan is facing a population bomb of immense proportions. But so do nationalists, who want a huge population in order to show strength as a nation.

This current bill must now go to the National Assembly, where it will be met with much opposition. Even the PML-N, which touts women’s empowerment as one of its key principles, is divided on the issue of whether or not girls should be stopped from getting married before the age of 18. One wonders whether the opponents of the bill — the rich and elite politicians of our country — are eager to get their 12 and 13 year old daughters married to 30 and 40 year old men, or whether this is just something they reserve for the most poor, deprived, and uneducated people of Pakistan.

As Pakistanis, we have an outdated idea of protecting girls. Many people among the lower socio-economic classes, especially during times of war and conflict, believe that the best way to protect their daughters from the vicissitudes of the world is to get them married off quickly. We must abandon this concept and realize that in today’s world, protecting our daughters means allowing them to complete their education and their childhood in peace and tranquility. We must also move away from the idea that girls’ parents can take any decision he or she pleases, even if it is an oppressive one that infringes on a child’s human rights, because as a parent she or he possesses complete authority over a girl’s life. This is the same kind of thinking that leads to child labor, child trafficking, and honor killing.

A 2017 World Bank study found that ending child marriage could result in a $6229 million rise in earnings and productivity. Imagine what this could do for our future as a nation. But that should not be our main impetus for banning child marriage. Our girls’ lives matter more than money. Just ask the girls of Pakistan whether they would like to get married at the age of 14, or be allowed to continue to study. In all the brouhaha over child marriage, why have none of these politicians, lawmakers and clerics asked the girls what they want to do with their lives?

Benazir Bhutto et moi

Je me souviens très bien la seule fois que j’ai rencontrée Benazir Bhutto. 1992: une soirée, une grande réception au consulat Américain. J’étais étudiante aux Etats-Unis, mais je revenais à Karachi chaque année pendant les vacances d’été.

Je suis allée à la soirée avec mon père, qui était ministre. Il parlait à une dame grande, belle, charismatique. Il m’a appelé pour me presenter à ce personnage. «Bina, dit-il, je te présente Madame Benazir Bhutto. Madame Bhutto, voici ma fille, Bina. Elle est étudiante à Massachusetts, comme vous l’étiez.

J’étais abasourdie. C’est Benazir, la femme la plus connue du Pakistan, peut-être du monde, après la princesse Diana. Premier ministre élue en 1988, la seule et la premiere femme d’un pays musulman à accéder à ce poste. Eduquée à Harvard et Oxford, fille du premier ministre Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, qui a été pendu par le dictateur le Général Zia.  En tant que jeune femme elle s’est mise en danger pour renverser le dictateur. Elle a réussit à gagner sa place dans les annals. Elle est en face de moi. Elle a 39 ans.

Je ne pouvais rien dire. J’étais comme un poisson, bouche ouverte, jeune, naive, maladroite comme tous les ados.

Son visage s’est égayé. «Ah oui? Vous êtes à quelle université?    

—À Wellesley College, madame, j’ai dit, en bégayant.

Elle m’a gratifiée d’un grand sourire. «Eh bien, quand j’étais à Harvard, tous les garçons adoraient les filles de Wellesley, me dit-elle, amusée. Moi aussi, j’ai rit. —Et quel spécialisation avez-vous choisi? Vous voulez devenir quoi dans la vie?

«Je me spécialise en psychologie. J’aimerais bien devenir psychologue.

—Mais c’est super! Vous pourriez devenir mon psy. J’en ai tellement besoin!

Je ne suis pas devenue psy, mais écrivaine. Une quinzaine d’années après cette rencontre, lorsque Benazir a été assassinée, après être revenue au Pakistan pour renverser un second dictateur, le Général Musharraf, nous étions dévestatés. Cette femme incroyable, avec son grand coeur, sa fidélité pour son pays, son intelligence et son expérience de la politique mondiale, ses espoirs pour la démocratie: elle me pouvait pas mourir. Mais elle a été éteint comme le lustre à la fin d’une grande soirée. Et mon coeur est, et reste, cassé.

J’ai imaginé une petite partie de sa vie dans mon roman «La Huitième Reine». Je regarde sa vie comme celles des sept reines mythologiques de Sindh, qui ont sacrifié leur vies pour l’amour de dieu, pour leurs amants, et pour ce pays. Il n y aura plus une autre comme elle: tout est dit avec la traduction de son nom: Benazir, «sans égal, incomparable».

Aurat March, Slogans and Posters

Now that the Aurat March has taken place successfully, many are striking back against what they see as women’s obscenity, vulgarity, need for attention, and even therapy in public. The Internet has been awash with comments from men and women attacking the marchers, and focusing on the placards they carried rather than for the reasons they marched.

Here is a very well-reported news article on why the Aurat March took place. Organizer of the Karachi march Sheema Kirmani stated the objectives: “Our issues remain the same today. We have organized the march to raise voice against gender violence, sexual harassment, social norms and gender roles that oppress women from getting access to educational, health, employment opportunities and rights. We are contending to create a just society that does not discriminate against women and exploit them.”

But it’s easier to ignore the truth when you don’t want to face the reality that we all participate in such a vastly unfair system. And what better way than to distract from the march’s real aims than by focusing on some posters and placards, rather than the demands of the women who marched, in Karachi, Lahore, Islamabad, Quetta, Faisalabad, Hyderabad, Peshawar, and Gilgit?

Last year’s most controversial placard told men to “go and warm your own food.” That one inspired meme after meme of men telling women to go out and work (they do) and change their own tires (they do). This year’s controversy-starter was a placard that portrayed a (fully-dressed) young woman sitting down with her legs splayed. “Here, I’m sitting properly,” read the caption on the poster, a wry take on the injunction every Pakistani girl has heard from the beginning of time: to sit “decently” with legs together.

poster

Another poster which disturbed people was this one, which made many male detractors question whether they too could draw a picture of their genitals and march around with it. Which only goes to show you that most people in Pakistan really need to learn the difference between female genitals and the female reproductive system. 

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Understanding of biology aside, I interpret these slogans and placards as a strong statement for women’s freedom of expression, their rage, their anger. These placards signal to society that women have had enough of inferior and unfair treatment.  They don’t want to be policed, to be threatened, to be harassed or punished for the same behaviors that men and boys enact without even a second thought.

The slogans may appear crude to some but many were witty, funny, clever, sarcastic, and some were very touching and straightforward. The woman holding the “Now I’m sitting properly” poster was in full hijab and it is doubtful that she has ever or would ever want to sit like that in public. Her point was easy to understand, though: it criticizes the vast and almost insurmountable double standards we have with regards to what’s allowed for men and for women. Men can sit like that or even lie down in public, relieve themselves, scratch their crotches, and nobody will say anything to them. But should a woman or girl sit like that and she will be reprimanded by anyone and everyone, called a slut, indecent, and so on and so forth. And should she dare to challenge that by drawing a picture of a woman siting freely…

Most of those posters were pointing out the sexist double standards that we have fully accepted in our society. I found them full of energy and intelligent observations about the hypocrisy of our misogynist and patriarchal society. It is truly ironic that few in our society feel the need to challenge violence against women, honor killings, domestic violence, sexual harassment (and they attack those who do) but a poster and a women’s march is what has gotten them up in arms.

There are those who think that the woman and girls who marched were spoiled, privileged, liberal “aunties” who have no clue of what is really going on in society with women and their “real” problems. This is only an attempt to divide women, to roll back the power of women and men uniting across ethnicities, social classes, genders, and demanding change.

It is very therapeutic to reclaim public space, to be loud, crude, and angry after years of repression and intimidation. To be badly-behaved when one has been told how to behave all one’s life. The collective gathering together of women and their allies to express themselves is how political change occurs — when a people’s movement galvanizes attention and focus on a pressing issue. Perhaps this is new for Pakistanis to see women gathering like this in such strength and such numbers, but it is refreshing and inspiring to many. And the fact that it has upset so many means that it is working.

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Photo credit Nuzhat Siddiqui

As Pulitzer Prize winning historian Laurel Thatcher Ulrich said, “Well-behaved women seldom make history.” Pakistani women are tired of being told to behave properly, discriminated against in every sphere regardless of their behavior, and punished societally, professionally, and physically for even an imagined infraction of that behavior code.

Pakistani women are standing up for themselves, demanding justice. They want to rewrite the rules so that they are fair and equitable for all genders. If you understand this, then a few placards, written with the enthusiasm and fierceness of young women excited by the possibility of change, should not blind you to why they really marched — unless you truly don’t want to get the message.

For once, Pakistani women, instead of behaving “properly”, trolled men as hard as they could – and it was awesome.