Reflection paper

8/29/18, 11(19 PMNo longer a bargain: Women, masculinity, and the Egyptian uprising - HAFEZ - 2012 - American Ethnologist - Wiley Online Library

Page 1 of 11https://anthrosource-onlinelibrary-wiley-com.proxy.libraries.rutgers.edu/doi/full/10.1111/j.1548-1425.2011.01344.x

Ad ve

rt is

em en

t

American Ethnologist / Volume 39, Issue 1

Full Access

No longer a bargain: Women, masculinity, and the Egyptian uprising

SHERINE HAFEZ

First published: 28 February 2012 https://doi-org.proxy.libraries.rutgers.edu/10.1111/j.1548-1425.2011.01344.x Cited by: 13

Get it @ Rutgers

ABSTRACT

About Sections PDF Tools Share

Although, according to eyewitness accounts, women made up 20 to 50 percent of the protesters in Tahrir Square, the events immediately following the Egyptian uprising revealed that women would not be part of the political deliberations between various contending parties and the Supreme Military Council in charge of the country. In this essay, I take a close look at the sociocultural dynamics behind the inclusion–dis‐inclusion of women in the political sphere to question how this contradiction has, in recent years, characterized the nature of gender relations in Arab countries like Egypt. Multilayered, rapidly changing, and challenged patriarchal power lies at the very core of the uprising in

Access by Rutgers University

8/29/18, 11(19 PMNo longer a bargain: Women, masculinity, and the Egyptian uprising - HAFEZ - 2012 - American Ethnologist - Wiley Online Library

Page 2 of 11https://anthrosource-onlinelibrary-wiley-com.proxy.libraries.rutgers.edu/doi/full/10.1111/j.1548-1425.2011.01344.x

rapidly changing, and challenged patriarchal power lies at the very core of the uprising in Egypt. What the events of this uprising have revealed is that notions of masculinity undermined by a repressive regime have observably shifted the terms of the patriarchal bargain. [Egypt's uprising, gender relations in the Middle East, masculinity, patriarchy, patriarchal bargain, state patriarchy, women and revolution]

Scenes from an uprising, Cairo 2011

Tomorrow, we will step on you with our shoes!

—From accounts of friends and acquaintances who heard these chants
 on various occasions by women in Tahrir Square

* * *

Scene 1:  She stood—barely five feet in height—with her feet planted squarely on the ground, facing what seemed to be an endless dark blur of amn markazy security men in their black uniforms and helmets. Her face was framed in a bright hijab, which accentuated her youthful features. She could not have been more than 17 years of age. Yet her voice, unamplified by a microphone, bellowed powerfully out across Tahrir Square for all to hear. She called out short rhythmic couplets to the crowd, which answered back, repeating word for word the slogans she shouted:

“

” huwwa mubarak aayiz ih? (repeated twice)What does Mubarak want?kul’ sh'aab yibus riglih?“

” laa ya Mubarak mish’ hanbusNo! Mubarak! We won't kiss (your feet)bukra alik bil gazma'n dus“ ”

1

Scene 2:  A small crowd of women and a few male supporters took to Tahrir Square on March 8, 2011, to commemorate International Women's Day and reaffirm women's commitment to the uprising. As the group stood in the middle of the

A young “sheikh,” wearing the traditional shoulders of the men in the antiwomen march. The “sheikh” held Quran in his outstretched hand, thus invoking religious doctrine as

“

8/29/18, 11(19 PMNo longer a bargain: Women, masculinity, and the Egyptian uprising - HAFEZ - 2012 - American Ethnologist - Wiley Online Library

Page 3 of 11https://anthrosource-onlinelibrary-wiley-com.proxy.libraries.rutgers.edu/doi/full/10.1111/j.1548-1425.2011.01344.x

***

women's commitment to the uprising. As the group stood in the middle of the square, it became apparent that the turnout would be less than expected. A few minutes of waiting for others to join the demonstration soon confirmed the reality that the thousands of women who were part of the uprising preferred to stay home that day, despite the various efforts to mobilize them. Instead, another group of people showed up, the voices of those in it audible even from a distance as they approached. Could it be possible, the women thought to themselves? Are they really chanting for women to fall and for the revolution to live? Almost immediately, their questions were answered—about a thousand men appeared, a few carrying signs ridiculing the women's march. They went directly for the small crowd of women gathered at the center of the square. Crude illustrations of men drooling at women, signs ordering women to go home, and signs with verses from the Quran that were strategically chosen to accuse women of neglecting their duties and obligations as females seemed almost alien in Tahrir Square, the scene of one of the most vocal movements for freedom and democracy ever mounted in the country. As the exchanges between the two groups turned confrontational, it became apparent that the male‐led group was bent on stopping the women's march.

Quran in his outstretched hand, thus invoking religious doctrine as authority against the female turnout. The men encircled and isolated group of women and started to grope at them. A few male supporters who had rallied with the women's march were physically assaulted. “The same men who invoked women in the

2

”

Scene 3:  It was a very cold night in Tahrir a few days after the 25 (of January), but we were determined to occupy the square no matter what. We had no idea how to go about setting up camp or organizing the place. None of us knew anything about that. Us women had never done anything like this before. Some had sleeping bags, others just a blanket, and most of us had nothing at all—having decided to do this [camp out] at the last minute. Many of our Muslim brothers were there, they told us what to do. They set up the campground, making beds for those who did not have anything, putting up makeshift tents from bed sheets and clothing. They organized us into rows, designated areas of the square, even made out schedules for us so some slept while others kept vigil. They treated us all the same, never taking notice of who was veiled or not. They slept next to us on the ground and refused to leave even when their leaders recalled them back. We were exhausted and beaten. If it weren't for them, we would not have pulled this off.

“

”

8/29/18, 11(19 PMNo longer a bargain: Women, masculinity, and the Egyptian uprising - HAFEZ - 2012 - American Ethnologist - Wiley Online Library

Page 4 of 11https://anthrosource-onlinelibrary-wiley-com.proxy.libraries.rutgers.edu/doi/full/10.1111/j.1548-1425.2011.01344.x

***

Clearly, women have played a central role in bringing about the success of the revolt that toppled Egypt's 30‐year‐old Mubarak regime and dismantled its ruling apparatus. Although women made up 20 to 50 percent of the protesters in Tahrir Square, not surprisingly, the events immediately following the uprising of 2011 revealed that women would not be part of the political deliberations between various contending parties and the Supreme Military Council (SMC) in charge of the country. Women's participation in politics or lack thereof is symptomatic of larger shifts in patriarchal sociopolitical relations in the country that continue to cause dissatisfaction among Egyptians in varying ways and to varying degrees. I take a closer look at the sociocultural dynamics behind this inclusion–dis‐inclusion of women in the political sphere by drawing on accounts of the uprising by friends, family, and acquaintances in my native Egypt, where I have conducted research for the last ten years. To this end, I elaborate on the nature of the “patriarchal bargain,” as described by Deniz Kandiyoti (1988), which scholars of gender in the Middle East have traditionally employed to explain how the choices women make (and, I argue, men as well) appear to be disempowering yet may also have the potential for limited gain. Whereas Kandiyoti takes this form of negotiation with patriarchal power to describe the relationship between the genders, I understand the patriarchal bargain here to also encompass the bargain between Egypt's people and its leaders.

Multilayered patriarchal power, both rapidly changing and challenged, is at the heart of the uprising in Egypt. Many protesters described it as such, including a young woman filmmaker, who said, “Before January 25 I didn't have faith that my voice could be heard. I didn't feel like I was in control of my future. The metaphor used by Mubarak that he was our father and we were his children made us feel as though we lacked any motivation. The revolution woke us up —a collective consciousness has been awoken” (Naib 2011). In classic Middle Eastern patriarchy, the older patriarch presides over and assumes responsibility for members of the extended family. The honor, prestige, and power of the patriarch thus derive from his abilities to provide for as well as to control and ensure the obedience of the members of the group. In this regard, a bargain is struck—not simply one of reciprocal exchange (one of allegiance in

” —Sanaa, an activist woman from Tahrir, describing the encampment in the square in a conversation with me
during the very first few days of the uprising“ ”

4

5

6

8/29/18, 11(19 PMNo longer a bargain: Women, masculinity, and the Egyptian uprising - HAFEZ - 2012 - American Ethnologist - Wiley Online Library

Page 5 of 11https://anthrosource-onlinelibrary-wiley-com.proxy.libraries.rutgers.edu/doi/full/10.1111/j.1548-1425.2011.01344.x

this regard, a bargain is struck—not simply one of reciprocal exchange (one of allegiance in return for sustenance) but also one in which inequality is maintained, internalized, and ensured through methods of control.

Over the three‐decade period of Mubarak's rule (1981–2011), the regime was committed to economic liberalization that brought with it new consumer trends and a systematic social dismantling of extended family life and patriarchal structures that have long sustained the more economically disenfranchised layers of the population (Bach 1998). What the events of this uprising have revealed is that notions of masculinity undermined by a repressive regime have observably shifted the terms of the patriarchal bargain between genders and ages and between the state and its people. As those of us in the United States watched the scenes of mass jubilation, the swirls of red, white, and black Egyptian flags amidst the throngs of people whose faces were similarly painted, we were witnessing an undeniable reversal in the social consciousness of a people. What immediately followed this stunning victory of collective action was a dismantling of a myth, that of the patriarchal bargain.

In his role as president, Mubarak adopted the father idiom, which was legitimated through the construction of mythical power that reined in chaos to ensure the safety and stability of the masses. The systematic micropractices of state power sought to advance its control not simply through violence and repression but, more persistently, through shaping the day‐to‐ day operations of individuals and reconfiguring individual subjectivity by instilling a sense of randomness and unreliability and a perpetual notion of disability that fostered a feeling of helplessness and of dependency on the state. Hubert L. Dreyfus and Paul Rabinow (1983) describe Foucauldian biopower as a diffused form of power that induces self‐regulation, yet what the state in Egypt inculcated into its population was a condition of dis‐regulation. The restriction of individual freedoms by means of an emergency law that allowed security police to conduct random roadblocks, arrests, and investigations always implied the potential for violence. Khaled Abou El Fadl (2010) maintains that it was this potential for random violence— more than the act of violence itself—that promoted fear and uncertainty among Egyptians.

Young men, in particular, and males, in general, became the targets of random state violence, torture, and humiliation. At the same time that young men were being pulled off the street simply for the act of walking, they were also being denied the various resources their parents might have enjoyed—education, health care, and government jobs. Young Upper Egyptian poet Hesham al‐Gokh (2010), dubbed the “prince of poets,” writes in his poem “Goha”:

7

It is an awful feeling to sense that your country is a weak thingyour voice is weakyour opinion is weak“ ”

8/29/18, 11(19 PMNo longer a bargain: Women, masculinity, and the Egyptian uprising - HAFEZ - 2012 - American Ethnologist - Wiley Online Library

Page 6 of 11https://anthrosource-onlinelibrary-wiley-com.proxy.libraries.rutgers.edu/doi/full/10.1111/j.1548-1425.2011.01344.x

In this state of dis‐regulation, the state ran its well‐oiled machinery of political control under a paternalistic umbrella. The decades of continuous unpredictability, deskilling through the lack of proper education, unreliable state services, and denial of basic human needs—even transportation—contributed to a state of loss and disillusionment that severed a connection not only to the balad, or the country—meaning Egypt—but also, more seriously, to the self as a potential agent.

Egyptian metaphors of identity were exemplified in the notion of “ibn al balad” in the 1950s and 1960s, when attributes of humor, gallantry, and honor were social and cultural ideals (El‐ Hamamsy 1982). Yet the Egyptian of the new millennium, uprooted from the support of familial networks, economically disenfranchised, and reconstituted through social conditions that inculcated instability and fear, could no longer easily identify with such dignities. A woman from rural Egypt who protested outside the ministry of agriculture in Giza in April of 2010 described the loss she and her family suffered as a result of the breakdown of patriarchal values. Her frustration and helplessness in the face of what she could not change made for a moving scene that was broadcast on YouTube. “We are not beggars!” She cried, “We used to be muhtaramin[respectable]. You made our children weep over our situation. My only son had to pay me his life's savings of 9,000 pounds [$1,500] to get my apartment so he can get married. Shame on you!” (see egyworkers 2010). With tears running down her face, she screamed at some imaginary authority figure who caused her to feel shame and lose face in front of her son when forced to accept money from him instead of providing him with his marital home, according to tradition. The cyclical nature of the patriarchal bargain is exemplified here, as the parent who is unable to fulfill what is traditionally parental duty in Egypt, looks up to the paternalistic state and “shames it” for reneging on its part of the bargain. Patriarchal households, in which the male head of the family was systemically disempowered through increased costs of living and lack of employment opportunities, were no longer capable of supporting or providing for their youth, who were, in turn, disenfranchised both by economic challenges and repressive measures of the state. It is therefore not a coincidence that the youth in Egypt ignited the sparks of the revolution and that women (who head 22 percent of Egypt's families, according to the World Bank [2002]) flocked to Tahrir from all over the country in such high numbers.

The dismantling of the myth of the benevolent, omnipotent father as state leader in Tahrir was momentous. But the day before Mubarak stepped down, an equally profound event took place

It is an awful feeling to sense that your country is a weak thingyour voice is weakyour opinion is weak“ ”

8

9

8/29/18, 11(19 PMNo longer a bargain: Women, masculinity, and the Egyptian uprising - HAFEZ - 2012 - American Ethnologist - Wiley Online Library

Page 7 of 11https://anthrosource-onlinelibrary-wiley-com.proxy.libraries.rutgers.edu/doi/full/10.1111/j.1548-1425.2011.01344.x

momentous. But the day before Mubarak stepped down, an equally profound event took place in Tahrir that shook the very core of the patriarchal myth. Thousands had congregated in the square, anticipating that Mubarak would resign from his presidency. His face appeared on the giant video screens set up to broadcast his speech to the awaiting crowd, but, instead of resigning, Mubarak addressed the protesters as his “children,” saying that he would “listen” to their demands. In silence, every person in the square solemnly held out his or her shoe toward the screens. Some quietly wept, and others yelled, but aiming the soles of their shoes directly at Mubarak's face marked a turning point. It was the ultimate gesture of insult toward the elder patriarch.

When Mubarak did eventually step down, the protesters were able to see themselves for the very first time as potent actors. This new awareness enabled the hopeful possibility of a “return” to the ideals of the ibn al balad that had been stifled by years of prohibition and despair. To this end, the rebirth of the “true” ibn al balad Egyptian, trapped for decades by a genie in an old lantern and now finally set free by the country's youth, became the headline to the success story of the uprising. It was the strength of conviction in this rebirth that made the events that took place in Tahrir on International Women's Day so incredible. Whereas rates of street harassment of women are close to 90 percent in Egypt, not a single known case of harassment was reported from Tahrir Square during the days of the uprising. Yet, only a few days after the revolution, women were being harassed in Tahrir, the scene of liberation.

Despite the rebirth of the idea of “ibn al balad,” one alarming fact after another pointed to the marginalization of women from political participation. The exclusion of women from the “Egyptian Spring” after Mubarak's resignation led many to question the uprising itself. As one woman activist succinctly put it, “It is simple, this revolution means nothing to me if women's rights are not honored!” One indicator of women's exclusion was the name of the very first people's group to take initiative for opening negotiations with the SMC: the Council of Wise Men. Although this name raised a red flag for various observers with feminist inclinations, many argued that the council did not represent youth either. In fact, the name implied that the council was a level‐headed group that arose in response to chaos that, perhaps, less‐than‐sage personalities had initiated. The speed with which events unfolded the first few weeks of the uprising and in the weeks that followed it seemed to catch women off‐guard; before they knew it, they found that they were out of the running. Women were excluded from the committee on constitutional reform and were left out of the constitutional changes that were put in place by the committee.

Why this shift in the attitude of the hegemonically masculine public? Is it as simple as saying that women were used only to be discarded and told to return to their homes? How can one

10

8/29/18, 11(19 PMNo longer a bargain: Women, masculinity, and the Egyptian uprising - HAFEZ - 2012 - American Ethnologist - Wiley Online Library

Page 8 of 11https://anthrosource-onlinelibrary-wiley-com.proxy.libraries.rutgers.edu/doi/full/10.1111/j.1548-1425.2011.01344.x

that women were used only to be discarded and told to return to their homes? How can one seriously consider this a possibility when the events of the uprising have shown that women are capable and deserve the recognition and inclusion that they call for? Perhaps a clue lies in the following poem, in which al‐Gokh (2010) addresses Egypt as a mother and a loved one:

What, then, becomes the organizing principle when honor is no longer possible and the patriarchal bargain holds no appeal?Joseph's (1994) work on connective patriarchy in Lebanon reveals how brothers construct their masculinity by feminizing their sisters and vice versa. This mutual construction of femininity and masculinity through idioms of honor and shame ultimately reproduces Arab patriarchy. In recent years in Egypt, however, with increasing violence against women on its streets, a different situation seems to have unfolded. Whereas love characterizes the male–female relationship in the Lebanese family Joseph (1994) describes, in Egypt, hate is the sentiment expressed by the young man in al‐Gokh's poem, whose beloved subjected him to much suffering and humiliation. The degree of feeling, depth of hurt, years of suffering, and lack of goals, security, and justice affect the nature of connective patriarchy between genders. R. W. Connell (1995) describes four different kinds of masculinity that perhaps can provide clues to the various forms of masculinity that exist along age, class, and power lines in Egypt. He calls these “hegemonic,”“complicitous,”“marginalized,” and “subordinated” and relates them to various degrees of access to patriarchal benefits. Males who are marginalized or even subordinated, like young Egyptian men, have the least access to patriarchal dividends and are associated with the fewest attributes of hegemonic masculinity. Following Connell's reasoning, the more that males are subordinated, denied patriarchal benefits, and associated with females, the more extreme their gender differentiation from females will be. Hence, women become easily targeted victims who compensate them for their loss of patriarchal benefits and their emasculation. Violence toward and abuse and harassment of women are the outcome of masculinity built on hate and deprivation and is therefore one of the core factors underlying the marginalization of women in a postrevolutionary Egypt.

It is important to foreground women's role in building the new political sphere at this point in Egyptian history as an indicator of the future direction the uprising will take. Whether considering women's role in labor militancy or their organizing energies in Islamic activism— not to mention in campaigns for the abolishment of discrimination and denial of rights

You make me hate your black eyes and my days passedYou are not my beloved from this day onwards“ ”

8/29/18, 11(19 PMNo longer a bargain: Women, masculinity, and the Egyptian uprising - HAFEZ - 2012 - American Ethnologist - Wiley Online Library

Page 9 of 11https://anthrosource-onlinelibrary-wiley-com.proxy.libraries.rutgers.edu/doi/full/10.1111/j.1548-1425.2011.01344.x

through women's‐rights NGOs and the like—these various forms of social and political activism will have to be galvanized into a solid women's front in the country before they can be openly acknowledged. What that entails is a rethinking of patriarchal politics and women's historical negotiation with it, in other words, a critical reexamination of the “bargain with patriarchy” that Kandiyoti so astutely described and a new‐on‐the‐ground dissection of masculinity in Egypt as a necessary constituent of the patriarchal bargain. Women in Egypt today are faced with the question, is bargaining with patriarchy still useful as a negotiating tool? And, what alternatives are available for women to shape the future of their nation?

What is becoming apparent to many is succinctly put by Egypt's first female judge and the vice president of the Supreme Constitutional Court, Tehany el Gibaly: “Women should not wait to be invited. It is time for them to perform their rights.”

Notes To view video clips of young women chanters, see iyadelbaghdadi 2011, manofsadness 2011, and tekaldas 2011.

1

I use the term revolution in this essay because that is the term used by my informants and it reflects how the Egyptian people conceptualized their collective action.

2

Zaki also filmed this event. See Zaki 2011.3

Across Egyptian, Arab, and Middle Eastern histories, women have often participated in various forms of national resistance, protest, and political action only to be excluded from newly formed governments. Yet, in many cases, women have continued to struggle for political participation. For more on this topic, see Al‐Ali 2000, Baron 2004, Tohidi 2006, and Najmabadi 1998, among many scholarly works.

4

My research has focused largely on women's Islamic activism. See Hafez 2003, 2011.5

I do not mean to imply that there is a homogenous classic patriarchy in the Middle East. Rather, I use the term here in a general sense. Patriarchal relations in the region are affected by class, ethnicity, religion, and political and economic factors. For more on the subject of the specificities of patriarchy in the Middle East, see Moghadam 2004.

6

Suad Joseph (1994) maintains that, with the development of state structures in the Middle East, state leaders often took over kin structures and kin idioms, thus creating “state patriarchal form.”

7

8/29/18, 11(19 PMNo longer a bargain: Women, masculinity, and the Egyptian uprising - HAFEZ - 2012 - American Ethnologist - Wiley Online Library

Page 10 of 11https://anthrosource-onlinelibrary-wiley-com.proxy.libraries.rutgers.edu/doi/full/10.1111/j.1548-1425.2011.01344.x

References cited

Citing Literature

“state patriarchal form.”

The literal translation of ibn al balad is son of the country; the term denotes the “real” Egyptian who epitomizes social and national values.

8

Older men and women have also identified with the revolution. “They did what we could not do for this country,” cried an older man into the television microphone at one of the protests.

9

The Council of Wise Men included such prominent male figures in Egypt as the secretary‐general of the Arab League, Amr Moussa, businessman Naguib Sawiris, and lawyer Ahmad Kamal Abul Magd.

10

PUBLICATIONS

AMERICANANTHRO.ORG

AAA MEMBERSHIP

RESOURCES

PUBLICATION INFO

© 2017 American Anthropological Association

8/29/18, 11(19 PMNo longer a bargain: Women, masculinity, and the Egyptian uprising - HAFEZ - 2012 - American Ethnologist - Wiley Online Library

Page 11 of 11https://anthrosource-onlinelibrary-wiley-com.proxy.libraries.rutgers.edu/doi/full/10.1111/j.1548-1425.2011.01344.x

About Wiley Online Library

Help & Support

Opportunities

Connect with Wiley

Copyright © 1999-2018 John Wiley & Sons, Inc. All rights reserved