بالعربي

Photo by Omar Braika
Styled by Fadi Zumot, styled in 3O2BALK
Creative directed by Shukri Lawrence 
Makeup by Nourr Al Salem 
Hair by Franck Provost (Jordan)
Translations by N.H.
This article is part of the “Marriage and Weddings” issue

Mapping the terrain on the desire to marriage, societal pressure, and personal experience. Attitudes toward marriage in Arabic-speaking world and communities vary drastically between individuals, from marriage as a concept and institution, to its relative utility, to the pressures that one feels. This article is an attempt to chart points on that broad spectrum. It is formed from responses My.Kali collected in preparation for this issue, and they have been organized according to themes that emerged. We looked into general attitudes of marriage, questions more specific to age and social pressure, and personal experiences. Rather than making summative remarks or drawing conclusions, we invite you, the reader, to look at this range of responses and bring them into conversations or deliberations that you are having on the topic. 

Mapping the Terrain
How do you feel about marriage?  

“Marriage means responsibility. Some may get married in order to have children, or out of fear of becoming a spinster, or because they’re afraid of losing a friend with benefits. In our Arab society, there are many reasons people get married for. You might even marry your rapist, because your virginity preserves the family name!”

“I’m afraid of marriage for many reasons, such as my religion, my sexual orientation, and whether or not society will accept all this, and my family, of course. It depends on our traditions and customs when it comes to reproduction and how we pray to God, and stuff like that. Do we get married for any other reasons? For many, marriage is a sacred bond between two people who love each other and are prepared to live their entire lives together ‘till death do [them] part,’ but this is not the case in much of the Arab world. Most straight couples are unsatisfied with their marriages, let alone gay marriage. The only reason that should be behind a marriage is love or desire for marriage.”

“Marriage, in my opinion, is the desire to live your life with someone you love. I believe that marriage is a declaration of love and our desire to live with our partner. But, in reality, we get married because we have to, not because we want to.”

Why do you think people get married? Is the idea based on personal desire/conviction or on societal/external pressure? 

“In the community I’m in and the people I’m currently surrounded by, marriage is something they truly want. When I was a child, it was considered to be something both men and women had to do, and there was always pressure coming from their families. Some children are raised to want to get married from a young age, which I think is a huge mistake. Some of us need marriage while others are forced to get married, depending on the circumstances of each person.”

“The need to meet society’s demands and comply with the law pushes us to get married. I, personally, was forced to get married, but I was lucky to find someone I loved. We had a premarital sexual relationship. It was dangerous and clashed with the law and society: visas, residencies between our countries, housing, neighbors, and landlords, coworkers, the insurance company, hospitals, and of course, family. Life’s easier when you’re rid of all this headache.”

“People get married for two reasons: some like the idea of starting a family and others choose marriage as an escape from pressure.”

“It depends on the environment we live in, and how people perceive unmarried individuals, and it depends on the family’s mentality.”

“I feel like people get married because of societal pressure. My family and friends now think that any relationships I am in will end in marriage. It’s painful to think that these societal molds and external expectations affect every relationship I have, even if I don’t think they do.”

“Societal pressure, no doubt. We get married because it’s expected of us. If you refuse to get married, you’re considered to be an outlier.”

From left: Tala, Hischam, Yamen, Lana; Photographed by Omar Braika. Styled by Fadi Zumot. Hair by Franck Provost Jordan. Makeup by:Nour Al Salem. Creative Direction by Shukri Lawrence. Styled in full  3O2BALK

How do you perceive the marriages around you? 

“Some of them are very normal, in that the person was used to having a partner and got married for the sake of their family. Other marriages are successful and are based on love. Some others had no choice, because they were supposed to get married at a young age.”

“I imagine most of them came to be due to societal pressure. Some relatives from my extended family married for love, but what’s strange is that these relationships are not seen in their true form, maybe so that people don’t talk, but most probably if there was a relationship preceding the marriage, it is hidden so that it appears to be an arranged marriage! So that it’s seen as pure!”

“Most are traditional and lacking in love and emotions. They are marriages for marriage’s sake. It’s more like an exchange of benefits. Like a business deal. Or maye as a form of escape.”

“They’re all failed marriages that were built on exploitation and violence.”

Mapping the Pressure Points

At what age do you feel the need or pressure to get married? Is there a ‘must be married by’ age?

“For females, pressure begins to mount at the beginning of their twenties. Everyone starts to pressure females to get married because they’re at a suitable (or late) age!”

“There is no certain age. Every person should get married when they want to, and not because they were pressured to.”

“To be honest, when I turn thirty, I plan to get married to my boyfriend. We live in Europe and we agree on everything, but we still haven’t gotten married yet.”

“There isn’t a certain age for anything. If, for example, I turn 40 and decide to go to university to study a field I love, then what is wrong with that? Our brains don’t get smaller the older we get. Same thing with getting married at a certain age. All these foolish ideas are uttered by the ignorant and are believed by idiots. It shouldn’t apply to men, because it shouldn’t apply to women either. Men and women are creatures that fall under one category: humans.”

“32. I don’t like the way people look at girls like they’re lacking something, especially those who choose not to get married. But I also think it’s somewhat true when it comes to girls. If a girl wants to have a baby, then she must do so while she’s still fertile. I don’t believe that applies to men.”

What mechanisms are used to enforce societal norms or protect the status quo? Do the same standards apply to men and women, and should they? 

“If I wanted to live in the same house as my girlfriend in our country, I would have to travel abroad to marry legally. Sometimes we need to feel like any other married couple, so we feel like we should marry and look for paths to emigrate.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever feel the need to get married, because I know I’m incapable of dealing with all aspects of it.  But on the societal level, women feel pressure to get married when they’re called ‘spinsters’, or when they’re told they won’t be able to have kids, that a woman’s true place is her husband’s home. Things like that. All this leads to women taking the decision to get married due to false fears. Some of this applies to men as well, but there’s a huge difference between men and women in this regard (and this discrepancy is present in every other facet of life), but this is not the only reason. There is a segment of society that thinks differently, that perhaps you choose to get married and for your own reasons, whether they’re good or bad.”

“We must get rid of the word ‘spinster.’ It shouldn’t be used to describe men or women! It is a humiliating word that attempts to put pressure on those who aren’t married to force them into entering the clutches of marriage (unlike the freedom to marry).”

 

“Spinsterhood as a whole is a patriarchal idea designed to psychologically pressure women into getting married out of fear of society.”

“[Spinsterhood] shouldn’t apply to any gender, male or female. An unmarried person, even if they are 60 years old, is a ‘bachelor/ette’. Nothing else. In the Arab world, the word “spinster” doesn’t apply to men. People start using it with women starting their twenties. Maybe even before that.”

“To label one a spinster is to exclude them from society. There’s a stigma attached to it that I’ve experienced. I always wonder who determines the age and form of relationship. Why do I have to get married and have kids in order to be happy? And why does society think this way? And why are unmarried women treated as a cautionary tale in the family or among neighbors? Spinsterhood should apply to men also if we want it to be a normal expression that we embrace and incorporate into our lexicon when we remove the pitying aspect of it! Like people who are divorced or widowed. But even with those, there is still sadness and pity directed at women!”

Mapping the Personal

Has anyone ever tried to arrange a marriage for you? What was it like?

“Yes, but I met the proposed idea with complete rejection, because I simply don’t want to get married now.”

“I turned down proposals from the ‘mothers’ of suitors, because I refuse to get married.”

“It felt horrible. I felt like I was being displayed like I was for sale. I felt like I was an object they were haggling over!”

“My relatives once discussed it, especially my aunts, since Mama is no longer alive. They want me to settle down. But the good thing is that they haven’t broached the topic till now because I completely opposed it the first time. I think tight-knits families, and ones with authority figures, use more force, pressure, and coercion.”

“No. There were attempts when I got employed for the first time, but I immediately dropped the bomb that I had a girlfriend and things got difficult. Because, contrary to what people think, men’s reputations are also affected in a conservative society. Families will at least worry that their son is messing around. The family’s reputation, especially if he has sisters at a marriageable age, will be affected. They stopped trying to force me into the whole role of ‘we’re looking for a bride for our son’ because they didn’t want people to start asking questions and find out about my premarital relations. One time, my aunt mentioned me to people, who did a background check on me, and reported back that I hung out with ‘devil worshippers.’ My privilege as a man is that I’m forgiven by family and society. They ask young men to repent before accepting them for their daughters. I believe it’s difficult for women, and it’s impossible for them to ask for forgiveness.”

Do you think LGBTQ+ relationships should end in marriage (as is assumed for heterosexual relationships) or that this should be an option? 

“I don’t feel like they should be called ‘LGTBQ+ relationships’. They’re just relationships, and I believe I made clear how I felt about marriage in my previous answer, but I’ll add that there is nothing that human beings ‘should’ do, even breathing!”

“No, it’s not necessary. Not for any two people in the world, regardless of sexual orientation.

Every person is free to think as they want. Some people desire marriage, others don’t. I believe it’s a personal choice.”

“Just like straight people have the right to get married, gay people should also enjoy the same right. Marriage means stability more than anything, so it’s considered to be a need.”

“Yes, it should end in marriage, and it should be accepted just like straight couples. It’s necessary that they get married, because if they’re not accepted, they’ll have to marry a member of the opposite sex, and that will be a kind of deceit.”

“Arab countries don’t recognize gay marriage, or homosexuality even. That’s why if there’s an intent or desire to get married, it’s only possible by traveling abroad to a country that allows it. That’s why some people in relationships stay together without a marriage contract. They’re connected spiritually instead. And some, unfortunately, are forced to marry the opposite sex. As for me, my opinion is unimportant. Some people might prefer to get married while others might not need to. When it comes to me, I don’t want to get married, not even to a girl. Even if I wanted to, there’s no capacity for that. In my future relationships, if there are any, our connection will be spiritual and emotional.”

“I don’t know. We know our countries: marriage is only an option for straight couples. Our society considers all of us, even trans people, to be sick. The shari’a court, at least in Jordan and Palestine, consider non-normative sexualities to be diseases and grounds for divorce. The dangers that face LGBTQ+ people, whether married or in secret relationships, are numerous. Maybe there are people who know how to escape societal pressure, but they’re all individual solutions, and they all involve risks, even just to reputation, or legal punishment.  I was bullied by members of the community because I chose a straight marriage. When I got married, my friends thought that I couldn’t have married because of love. They are also from the LGBT+ community and know that members of the LGBT+ community can’t simply get married like other people.  But I can’t blame them for bullying me, because I know I’m very lucky and I’m living life leisurely. That wouldn’t have been the case if I had fallen in love with a guy.”

By Karar Ahmed
Artwork by Patshuro
Translated by N.H.
This article is part of the “Marriage and Weddings” issue

Weddings are social rituals that seem essential to modern history, uniting parties in celebration and joy. Imagine the impact of weddings that have taken place during revolutions. It demonstrates the possibility of achieving change through joy, by harnessing it as a means of attraction and expression of protest. Weddings, carnivals, and celebrations, become integral to revolutions themselves, since revolutions, too, are greatly awaited events. These celebrations can even tip the scales in favor of the revolutionary cause.  

Shifting Symbolism in Weddings of Revolution
According to Russian philosopher Mikhail Bakhtin, the carnival is the victory of the public arena over the religious and authoritarian establishment. The triumph of joy and dance and the upheaval of strict standards and authoritarian values. The carnival is an achievement par excellence of the people against existing values, customs, and traditions. Popular celebrations seek to defy tradition and norms and use art and dance to eliminate hierarchy in favor of the body and satire.

Weddings that take place during revolutions, which diverge greatly from traditions of “normal weddings”, are clear examples of Bakhtin’s carnival.  In Iraq, in Liberation Square, many non-traditional weddings were held. One wedding ceremony took place in front of all the protesters, and afterwards they were transported in “tuk-tuks”, which are vehicles that abound in densely-populated areas, as a symbol of the simplicity of the wedding and appreciation for the courage of the drivers of these vehicles and their role in facing government oppression.

Some grooms wore masks as another symbol of protest. This is another form of symbolism born from the weddings of the revolution: the abolition of class and prevailing customs. People circulated videos throughout the duration of the revolution of women proposing to a tuk-tuk driver as a result of his courage in facing state repression and because of the help he lent to protestors, regardless of class. The protest space is open for everyone, and people of different classes and leanings meet there: Al-Karkh and Al-Rusafa1 Al-Karkh and Al-Rusafa: each are located on either side of the city of Baghdad. They have regional , people from the countryside and the city, Muslims and non-Muslims.

The wedding ceremony of Maryam and Ahmed took place on the 30th of January at Liberation Square. Maryam is not religious and Ahmed is Muslim, and the two coexist with their religious differences. In their marriage, the couple conveyed a clear message to strict Iraqi society:  they sealed their love with marriage, despite all the pressures they faced, in the midst of a place that sought to bring about change and from which the first signs of hope emerged. This was a major turning point for a society that still refuses to marry a Sunni to a Shiite and vice versa. 

“The marriage ceremony was a special challenge and a message: ‘Iraqi youth will not give in, and we are able to create joy, despite the sadness that has prevailed over everyone because of the clashes between demonstrators and security forces.’ They were able to turn the tables and spread joy and determination by announcing a wedding ceremony between two protestors,” says Maytham, one of the protestors from Baghdad who held his wedding at Liberation Square.

The protesters believe that they must insist on their right to joy, while the authority insists on force-feeding them tragedies and sorrows. Authorities want the Iraqi revolution to be a massacre without glories, joy, resistance art, and ahazeej2 Ahazeej (sing. ahzooga): a type of Iraqi folk songs.  in front of live bullets. But protestors want the regime to know this: that they will not lie under the ashes of death, and that their cause will not be limited to tragedy and bereavement.

Artwork by Patshuro

Art, Feeling, and Social Change
Revolutions have become a place where youth advocate for liberation from tradition and social change in addition to political change, putting feeling and the affective into action. Joey MacDonald, one of the most famous activists of the hippie movement3 Hippie: a youth movement that originated among university students in the United States in the 1960s. It became a phenomenon of protest and rebellion against adult leadership, manifestations of materialism, utilitarianism, and the culture of consumption. , a counterculture movement that opposed mainstream culture in the United States, considers the Arab Spring revolutions and the Occupy Wallstreet movement to be similar to the Summer of Love.4 Summer of Love: It is a social phenomenon that occurred in the summer of 1967, when nearly 100,000 hippies poured into the Haight-Assyrian neighborhood of San Francisco, marking the start of a major cultural and political change in the region linked to the use of spiritual drugs and sexual and political liberation. He believes that the Summer of Love is the “new status quo,” which opened the door to changed attitudes around sex, pleasure and hope. It changed everything. He warned younger generations to not forget the source of all this, this transformation that struck the United States of America and the world. Marriage was a part of this: many hippie couples announced their engagement during that summer of love, and some women gave birth during that same year in order to commemorate the summer of 1967.

Another characteristic of recent revolutions is the centrality of art; people use art as the primary method of expressing their thoughts, aspirations, and pain, and as a tool for communal representation.  Why, then, is dancing and singing in the squares criticized? These modes of expression attract people to the sight of protest without detracting from the reason behind the gathering.  In fact, the energy, chants, and artistic production are essential to both conveying and knowing the aims of  any movement or revolution. This includes the current revolution and the revolutions of the “Arab Spring”, which amplified voices of the people who were oppressed by authoritarian regimes for years. 

In her autobiographical film, The Beaches of Agnès (2008), Agnès Varda articulated how art and revolution come together in producing energy and connection. In reminiscing about her trip to Havana four years following the Cuban Revolution, she said, “I found the Cubans extraordinary; their socialism is amazing and joyful. When I am in Moscow, I feel that the Soviets and I belong to two different worlds! In Cuba things were easy, I felt touched by the Cubans, then understood, then laughed a lot. The folklore of their revolution, the rhythm of life, the warmth, the mix of ethnicities, the arts and the origins of music.” Art, here, is both inspirational and conveys the spirit of the revolution.

Reflecting on his own experience in the Iraqi revolution, Ali Ahmed said that “People in our conservative societies are accustomed to building authoritarian walls around us to dominate us, and restrict our freedom of expression. We speak using the speech of the public. Spontaneity is erased, and we parrot the types of phrases that are socially acceptable. This is how we hide our feelings and are able to deftly pretend and act in front of a conservative society. We do not threaten the public’s sense of morality, and we are not affected by people’s judgement of our vulgar language. But when it comes to the revolution, things are different. The vital space in which we reveal to ourselves our past and future, with our simplicity and our same spontaneity, shackled as they are by norms and traditions, link us together. We interpret it differently, just as we do with intimacy!” Ali is a protestor determined to marry in the midst of the revolution, and the reason behind his decision is due to what he has dubbed the “intimacy” among the crowd of protesters; this feeling that binds simple and tired common people together, who are united in their grief and demands. 

Revolutionary Intimacy
Marrying amidst strangers and revealing personal feelings and thoughts in public space promotes a transformation of unfamiliar individuals to a social collective, freeing the individual from the social institutions that often constrain them in everyday life. 

Indian philosopher, Osho, explained that intimacy is “the transformation of the other from a strange description to a human being, and it means to reveal yourself in front of strangers.”5 Osho <> Perhaps it is the transformative potential of intimacy that causes authorities to target and repress it in revolutions and popular movements. One way to dissolve solidarity and exploit religious, class, and social divisions is by attaching moral connotations to the revolutionaries that are independent of the movement itself, portraying protestors as sexually agitated or teenagers as addicted to partying and dancing. Through this, police find a different angle to oppress individuals through a different angle and prevent the liberatory potential of intimacy.  

In his famous text, 1984, English novelist George Orwell articulated the transformative power of sexuality, joy and pleasure, writing: “it was not merely that the sex instinct created a world of its own which was outside the Party’s control and which therefore had to be destroyed if possible. What was more important was that the sexual privation induced hysteria, which was desirable because it could be transformed into war fever and leader worship.”  He further showed that the pleasure and joy that come from sex have revolutionary value itself, writing:  “When you make love you’re using up energy; and afterwards you feel happy don’t give a damn for anything. They can’t bear you to feel like that. They want you to be bursting with energy all the time. All this marching up and down and cheering and waving flags is simply sex gone sour. If you’re happy inside yourself, why should you get excited about Big Brother and The Three Years Plans and the Two Minute Hate and all the rest of their bloody rot?”

By understanding weddings of the revolution as events that promote intimacy between strangers and exercise the transformative potential of sexuality and pleasure, we can also see why they are such a threat to authorities and the institutions that work to maintain “order”. They are liberatory and joyful, demonstrating a powerful alternative to that which they are protesting. 

A dictator knows that people who are willing to put restrictions on their body and actions will also allow the state, by way of religious and military authorities, to colonize their minds. The revolution signals disobedience toward the ruler and this colonization. It signals the insistence of freedom of the body, which can then ripple through society.  Weddings of the revolution do just this: they evoke joy and ecstasy, evoke intimacy between strangers, and are themselves artistic performances. They show love and sexuality as both part of the revolution and revolutionary in themselves, as a coup against customs and norms that limit the body and society, and the desires that cannot be concealed.

Dear readers and followers,

This month Thirteen years ago, we pressed the button that launched My.Kali magazine, the magazine and platform you have come to know. For those of you who have been there since day one, you have watched us evolve and grow in the past couple of years. We’d like to start this letter by thanking you for your support and loyalty through it all. We couldn’t have reached where we have reached without you. And for those of you who joined us post May 2016, particularly our Arab content readers after the launch of My.Kali in Arabic in May 2016, it’s a pleasure to have you as a reader and a follower, and to be able to be a part of your lives everyday.

Since the beginning, My.Kali has been a predominantly a queer/feminist effort. When the idea of My.Kali first knocked on our door in September/October 2007, we were both in our teens. The magazine was born out of the need to create virtual spaces that are inclusive, feminist, queer, and free of judgement. We strongly believe and still believe that if we don’t tell our region’s stories, someone else will, and it won’t be the same. Leading us and many others to a publication that is dedicated to documenting our stories and experiences, our voices and bodies, and having more publications and platforms that are narrated by the queer and feminist community in the Middle East, North Africa, diaspora and immigrants from the region. 

Happy Birthday

You can share your memories with My.Kali, which will be shared via our social media, (while protecting your identity and privacy, no names will be mentioned) via our Contact us page or via email: info@mykalimag.com

Design by: Mohammed Moe Mustafa

Arab societies live, to varying extents, under patriarchal regimes that operate even when not explicitly so.  They are governed by norms and traditions that favor the authority of men over women, which influence the thinking of the majority and shape the dreams, plans, and personal expression of the individual. This then reproduces gender norms and the narrative that these roles are central to society. What might have been subjective becomes a factual reality that reigns over us all, and evident in the frightening stories and cases of female oppression cases that are gaining increasing public exposure. 

We see a clear absence of purposeful, civilized common dialogue that engages all members of society on this topic. This is in spite of the growing number of feminist movements, associations, and organizations that work to raise awareness of women’s issues, combat violence against women and oppression, and empower the communities they serve. The absence of common dialogue complicates already sensitive topics, cultivating fear and widening the gap between groups affected. 

Direct discussion of women’s issues in the context of customs, traditions, and laws will hopefully create a platform to sustain dialogue and further assert just demands of girls and women while also preserving social integrity and family relationships. “Marira”, a project that presents real-life stories of girls interviewed in the city of Irbid located in northern Jordan, aims to translate these known but yet unacknowledged experiences and stories to challenge oppressive traditions and call for women’s empowerment in their local context. 

Sharing stories is part of a collective effort carried out by strong female advocates around the Arab world who seek to overcome silencing and disregarding of female voices. Below is a sample of stories of the girls we serve, about their relationship with their families and the topic of marriage in particular. Though the details of these stories differ, they reflect common and shared experiences that many women face in their lifetime. Hopefully, women might build on these common factors apparent in stories like these to engage in meaningful, sustained, and productive dialogue, that might help them think through and around the patriarchal logic that surrounds them.

Photographed by Futoon Qusairy

Zaina

Zaina and Ala’a had a romantic relationship that lasted for 7 years. Once Ala’a finished his university degree and secured a job, he went to ask for Zaina’s hand for marriage. Her father rejected his proposal, because in his opinion, Zaina was not allowed to choose who her life partner is. Zaina, who had been waiting for this moment for years, fell into a state of severe depression, and was forced to take antipsychotic drugs for three years to cope with the sense of loss that moment caused.

Have you been forced into getting married?
Soon after my father rejected Alaa’s proposal, I was pressured into marrying another man

How were you forced into getting married?
After turning down a few marriage proposals, my brothers started to raise suspensions that I was still in a relationship with Alaa. The truth is I was not in a relationship with Alaa anymore, but I was not able to move on just yet. After a few fights and threats from my brothers, I was pressured into accepting who overcomes next to ask for my hand

What methods were used to compel you into this marriage?
My brothers threatened to cause severe harm to Alaa as they still think that the only reason I refuse to get married is that I was still in a relationship with him. They also took my phone away to look for any evidence that I was trying to keep in touch with Alaa. Moreover, even in the rare occasion when they let me leave the house, they watch where I go and what I do to make sure I don’t get any chance of meeting with Alaa.

Was there any objection to this marriage from any of your family members? If so, why?
No, everyone blessed the idea of me getting married, even my mother. There was no one other than my girlfriend standing by my side because she was the only one who knew exactly how much I loved Alaa.

Has your family made you feel pressure after you got married? For example, have you felt pressured to have kids right away?
No, my family did not voice any opening in my personal life after getting married. However, my mother in law has this subtle way of pressuring her son into having a kid as soon as possible.

Having been married to a man who you haven’t had the chance to know very well before you both got married, how would you describe the first few months of that marriage?
Actually, a few days ago was our anniversary. We have our share of fights and disagreement. I will be honest here, sometime after getting into a fight with my husband I wish I could talk to Alaa and share with him what I go through, we haven’t been in touch since the day my father stopped our relationship, but it would be nice to hear about how he is doing.

What kind of marital problems have you faced in this marriage?
The main problem I had to face was accepting the idea of getting married to someone who is a complete stranger to me. It was very difficult for me to picture him as my husband. At times, it was hard for me to let him be intimate with me, and to be completely honest, I still find it challenging sometimes to accept some of his attributes.

Photographed by Futoon Qusairy 

Duaa

Duaa is a divorced mother with two children, who is still dreaming of finishing her education. In 2017, Duaa and her family fled to Jordan running away from the devastating aftermath of the Syrian conflict. She is one of eight family members sharing a small apartment and living in a difficult financial situation. Because of this, Duaa (who was 15 at the time) was forced into marrying a 40 years old man who offered her family a large sum of money in return. 

Have you been forced into getting married?
I did not want to get married, but my parents convinced me that it was a good idea.

How were you forced into this marriage?
It was nothing special, my father informed me that I was getting married. I had no opinion regarding that decision.

What methods were used to compel you into getting married?
“This marriage is good for you, for our family, and especially good for your little siblings.” My father tried to convince me using those words. I’ve always tried to express my desire to finish my education and to go to school like many of the girls my age do. Crying was the only way to express what I was feeling. But, my father used to verbally and physically abuse me and my mother, so eventually, I accepted marrying this man to avoid facing such abuse and its lasting effect on us.

Was there any objection to this marriage from any of your family members? If so, why?
Definitely. I believe my mother did not agree with this marriage idea. Her eyes said what words couldn’t even express, but she was too afraid to voice her objection. And, my little siblings did not want me to leave the house just yet.

After being forced into this marriage, did either side of both families try to interfere further into your personal life? Did you feel pressure to get pregnant for example?
My ex-husband’s family pressured me to get pregnant right away. I was terrified of that idea, I was very young and knew nothing about pregnancy and becoming a mother.

How would you describe your marital relationship after the first few months?
One of the problems I struggled with was how much older he was than I. He was the same age as my father, and sometimes, I felt the need to address him as “uncle” instead of “husband”. I had no previous knowledge about how to be in a marital relationship, especially when it comes to being intimate with a man. I would get frightened every time he gets physically close to me, and I wish if the ground would swallow me up; I was not able to imagine him as my life partner.

What other kinds of marital problems did you face? What do you think was the reason for this marriage to fail?
He used to spend long hours outside of our home, and drop me off at his parents house every time he wants to spend some time with his friends. I never felt safe around his family and his mother treated me unfairly. After having my first child, he started to assault me physically, and my father did not support or help me to move back home to be with my family. After having my second child, he left me and his two children and never heard from him since.

Photographed by Futoon Qusairy

Mona

Mona accepted to be a part of an arranged marriage as she feared to miss the “marriage train” at the age of 26, after hearing the word ‘spinster’ more times than she could remember and seeing many of her peers already on board.Although she did not feel comfortable marrying (Kareem), she prepared for her wedding day with joy and enthusiasm. Sadly, those feelings did not last long, and she was relegated to a position of “sex object and cooking machine”.

Have you been forced into getting married?
I have always felt the pressure to get married as I was growing older, most of my friends who are the same age as I am were already married and have children of their own. When Kareem proposed to me, I did not see myself getting married to him. However, my mother and aunts kept on pressuring me towards accepting him as my husband and I started to feel that I might not get another chance to get married if I pass on this strange guy named “Kareem”.

What forced you to accept the idea of getting married to him?
I would not use the word “forced”. I would instead say that I was tempted by the idea of Kareem as a person. He is an independent man who owns a house and has a very good job, he wanted us to get married in a fancy hotel in Amman (capital city of Jordan) and then go to Thailand for our honeymoon, and it’s been a dream of mine to travel somewhere new. Preparing for my wedding was all I can think about during that time.

Was there any objection to this marriage from any of your family members? If so, why?
My older sister objected. She was already married and has three children, and she kept on telling me why “Why are you in a rush to get married?” And “you still have plenty of time, don’t decide on this that quickly.”

Did either side of both families try to interfere further into your personal life after getting married?
I have always felt pressured to get pregnant right after I got married. I did not get pregnant for almost a year, and after all of that pressure from my in-laws, I decided to go see a gynecologist to make sure there was nothing wrong preventing my pregnancy. Alhamdulillah there was nothing wrong, and soon after that I got pregnant and now I have a beastly two years old daughter. They still pressure me every now and then and want to get pregnant again soon.

How would you describe your marital relationship after the first few months?
I would say the first few months of our marriage were full of happy moments, especially the night of our wedding, it was a beautiful moment to share with Kareem who did not feel like a stranger to me anymore. He made me feel special and I imagined our life would be filled with lovely moments to share together. However, now we barely feel connected with each other anymore.

What kind of marital problem did you face? Did your marriage fail?”My main problem with Kareem is that he spends most of his time playing cards with his friends until a very late hour at night. He leaves me alone with our daughter which makes me feel more as a housekeeper rather than his wife. I thought of divorcing him several times, but what would be the reason that I tell people around me? That I don’t feel like I’m his housekeep rather than wife? They would respond with the same answer I expect anyway: “He spends most of his day time working hard to provide for you and your daughter”. I don’t believe that this is how life should be lived at all.

Photographed by Futoon Qusairy

بالعربي

By Musa Shadeedi
Photograph by Rafique Nasr el-Din – My.Kali archive, 2012
Photograph edited by Omar Braika
Translated by N.H.
This article is part of #69

Controversy surrounding the first edition of the International Women’s Festival began before it was held. Six days before the start of the festival, Lebanese writer and feminist researcher Nay El Rahi announced her withdrawal from the festival she was invited to speak at in response to the festival management’s announcement that they had invited a male speaker who was a “sexual harasser and sexual harassment apologist,” according to El Rahi in a post on her Facebook account. According to her, this man had, for the past decade, “verbally harassed, marginalized, bullied, and been violent toward women.” Despite this, the festival organizers chose to keep this speaker’s slot, prompting El Rahi to withdraw in refusal of sharing a platform with him.

The French Institute in Lebanon, the Lebanon Support Center, the Arab Institute for Women, the Political Science Institute at Saint-Joseph University, and the Joumana Haddad Freedoms Center organized the festival, which started on Thursday, February 27 and ended Sunday, March 1. 

Then a surprising thing occurred: the Joumana Haddad Freedoms Center’s Facebook page posted about the festival by sharing a clip of a scene that was inspired by a play called Cage, which was written by writer and “feminist” Joumana Haddad, directed by Lina Abyad and performed by Dima al-Ansari. In the scene, a woman is seen wearing a giant niqab, which covers her body and the entirety of the chair she is sitting on. Her voice creeps out from underneath the layers of black cloth: “I see the workers sweeping the rubbish below. I imagine myself among the garbage bags. There is nothing for me to do except wait for death. I’m merely waiting for them to wrap me in a white sheet instead of this black one. What’s the difference? They have already buried me alive.” She pauses a little. “I steal breaths of air, then feel guilty for doing so.” When the full version was performed in 2016 at Metro al-Madinah Theater, the same character said in a sarcastic tone, “they call me a black garbage bag, a ninja costume, a tent”. This prompted loud laughter from the audience.

What is the difference between likening a niqab to a black garbage bag and likening women who don’t wear the hijab to an unwrapped lollipop covered in flies? In both cases, we objectify women and treat their minds, entities, personalities, and feelings as if they are possessions that belong to someone. We cannot deny that many women are oppressed and forced to wear the veil and niqab—which is something that should not be tolerated—but will likening them to a garbage bag liberate them in any way? Is feminism today, or at least the kind Joumana adopts, still falling into the trap of acting like a father who believes that reprimanding his son might motivate him to succeed at school? Isn’t this the first and most obvious form of patriarchy? Isn’t insulting women the most basic form of misogyny—regardless of the gender of the person insulting them? Wouldn’t it have been better for us to insult and make fun of the men who force women to wear the veil? And liken their minds to that of a garbage bag?

What should scare us more? Giving a platform to a person accused of sexually harassing and bullying women and allowing him to talk about how he supposedly “fights for women’s rights?” Or, a piece of a cloth wrapped around the head of a poor woman protesting against a corrupt regime in the streets of Beirut? Women who wear the hijab or the niqab are not a single, monolithic group. Some are scientists, illiterate, rich, poor, feminists, misogynists, homosexual, heterosexual, bisexual, fair-skinned, dark-skinned, transgender, and cisgender. Some willingly choose to cover, others are forced to. There are veiled boxers, fashion designers, political activists, and congresswomen. It is shameful to reduce this diverse group of women to a singular image and mock them in a comedic context.  

Historically, wearing or abandoning the veil has shaped the struggle between patriarchal political forces and women’s bodies. A clear example of this took place in Iran between Reza Pahlavi, the secular dictator who is loyal to Zionism and the West, and the Islamic dictator Al-Khomeini following the success of his revolution, when the hijab was taken up by both as a tool of oppression. 

On January 8, 1936, the Iranian shah, Reza Pahlavi, issued a decree banning the headscarf as a manifestation of backwardness and forcing Iranian women to wear European hats instead. When protests against his corrupt regime began to break out, some women protested by wearing a headscarf (even the non-veiled ones) in objection to this law. Writer Rabab Kamal says in her book Women in the Den of Islamic Fundamentalism, “Some of the progressive women who did this did not imagine that they would later on be forced to wear the veil.”

After the success of the Iranian Islamic Revolution in 1979, the new government issued a law imposing the veil on all women. The same women took to the streets unveiled to protest this law. This proves that they are neither for nor against the hijab. They are against being forced to either wear it or take it off, against the violation of the sanctity of their bodies. If the non-veiled women had preoccupied themselves with likening veiled women to garbage bags, the only beneficiary would have been the patriarchal dictatorship.

What should scare us more? Giving a platform to a person accused of sexually harassing and bullying women and allowing him to talk about how he supposedly “fights for women’s rights?” Or, a piece of a cloth wrapped around the head of a poor woman protesting against a corrupt regime in the streets of Beirut?

Iranian women demonstrate on International Women’s Day against Ayatollah Khomeini imposing the veil in 1979. Photo credit: Hengameh Golestan

Global violence against veiled women
The 2016 SETA Institute for Political, Economic and Social Research,  “European Islamophobia” Report, “reported that, “data shows that it is 70% more likely for a Muslim woman to be attacked in the street.” The report documented cases in which Muslim women were physically assaulted in public spaces, streets and on buses because of their headscarves. They were also fired from many jobs, especially after recent waves of immigration. Anti-hijab discourse became one of the most important features of racism against Arab and Muslim refugees in the West. Islamophobia became normalized in order to oppress Muslim women, especially veiled women. 

The matter is not limited to Europe. In Egypt, the vlogger Alaa Abu Zikry posted a video to YouTube,”The Hijab Crisis in Egypt,” in which she explains the difficulties she faced in the job market and employment companies because of her veil, and the many and varied ways in which employers tried to persuade her to remove her headscarf or just refused to hire her. If this policy of starving veiled women is the case, even in countries where the majority of women are veiled, you have only to imagine how women who wear the niqab are treated.

Judging women by their appearances is one of the highest degrees of misogyny, applied by people who see women as nothing but a shell, empty and lacking in intelligence. People who believe that a woman’s appearance determines whether she should be respected or despised. Some respect only veiled women, such as extremist religious men. Others only have respect for unveiled women, such as some so-called “feminists”.

1400 years ago
The history of the headscarf extends back to the time of the second Rashidun Caliph Umar ibn al-Khitab, when it was employed as a classist tool by Muslim leaders. A significant story told of an instance  when a veiled maid entered a room ibn al-Khatib occupied. He got angry, because at the time, head and face coverings were for free women only, and slaves were forbidden from wearing the hijab; it was a tool to distinguish between the classes.. Umar ibn al-Khattab hit her, saying, “Are you trying to imitate free women?“

This is one of the most significant stories used by people who oppose the hijab to prove that it is an insult to women. A thousand and four hundred years have passed since this incident—the validity of which is unknown—and this customary function of the hijab ended with the end of slavery in the world. Yet, it seems that it has taken on new meaning today. Just as Umar Ibn al-Khattab deemed a veiled maid to be an insult to his classist system, many “feminists” today consider a woman’s wearing of the veil to be a threat to women’s liberation. In the past, a man considered an unveiled woman a slave; he had the right to do with her as he pleased. Today, some “feminists” consider women who wear the hijab to be a garbage bag they can kick whenever they want, eliciting laughter and applause from their audience. 

Many feminists view the veil and niqab as an absolute insult to women, relying on texts that are 1400 years old to understand the phenomenon of the veil today, which I find very problematic. Today’s problems must be understood within their current context. Many women find comfort in the hijab and niqab. Even if we disagree with them, we cannot in any way force them to unveil, because the ones who impose unveiling are no different from the ones who impose the veil: both of them believe that women’s bodies belong to them, and this is not true.

بالعربي

Words: Ayman Huda Menem
Image: Ayman (right) and Najm (left). © Akram Zaatari. From Hashem el Madani, courtesy of the Arab Image Foundation, Beirut.
This article is part of the “Marriage & Weddings” issue.

In Egypt and some Gulf countries, weddings have a monopoly on the word farha1 Translator’s note: The word farha literally translates to “happiness,” which is the word used for “wedding” in Egypt and some Gulf countries. . This is neither innocent nor objective, but instead conveys the ideals of society, represented by the state and acceptable religious institutions, in which there is no room for single people. The exclusion of single or unmarried people is further emphasized when you realize that the phrase “starting out in life” is used to describe those who plan to get married. The situation in Egypt, which does not differ greatly from the state of other countries in the region, reveals the extent to which marriage occupies the deeply symbolic and spiritual infrastructure of its people and humanity at large. 

Marriage, which has changed form and models through human history, is now considered to be the most acceptable form of union because it complies with norms regarding appropriate sexual/emotional relations between men and women and is aimed at starting a family. Further, it is the only avenue through which one can obtain their full rights and recognition from the state. 

The concept of marriage has continued to expand and shift as Western framework grows to include same sex marriage. It is considered to be the only and most ideal way of establishing a union between two individuals, no matter their sexuality or gender,  that is legally recognized and supported by societal institutions, and that guarantees legal protection for both parties and the benefits and rights that heterosexual married couples enjoy. 

Freedom and equality without discrimination, including that based on sex, are at the core of the concept of human rights, though there is no specific path to ensure that those values are upheld.  It is in this context, one also characterized by a Western binary view of humanity (good vs. evil, West vs. rest), that same sex marriage is framed and presented as the pinnacle of all struggles and the ultimate symbol of the globalization of human rights. Argued through rhetoric of ‘civilization’ and ‘progress’2 TSamuel Moyn, The Last Utopia: Human Rights in History, London: Belknap Press, 2010 .   

However, rhetoric around same-sex marriage as a human rights is controversial, largely because Western discourse authorizes and governs cultural perceptions and public awareness of human rights and freedoms globally. Some argue that same-sex legislation is in fact a continuation of the oldest forms of domination, which controlled gender and sexuality along certain models, practices, and frameworks within a masculine -feminine binary. But, Western models based on binary logics are not the only to have existed, and one could argue that expanding the institution of marriage actually domesticated the LGBTQ+ community, pushing them into ‘family institutions’ that align them within norms of the patriarchal system. It further reproduces the social, political, economic and religious institutions that ensure the continuity of the structures that govern society, including government, the education system, commercial institutions, and that marginalize those with less social capital, such as women and sexual minorities.Same-sex marriage can, in certain cases, be considered another legal mechanism of social control aimed to transform or hem in the social body through (a) punishment, as represented by non-recognition, ostracization, and social/legal disregard, and (b) reward, by granting material and social rights to those who comply with the majority’s norms and the human/societal norms embedded in the nuclear family model. This nuclear family model shores up conceptually- and practically-allied ideologies of neoliberalism and social conservatism through defining it as the basic social unit through which the new working class is reproduced, the relationships between class, production, circulation, and consumption are streamlined, and consumer culture in general is promoted3 National Post : Gay weddings boost U.S. economy by $3.8 billion since landmark ruling, May 28, 2020 .

LGBTQ+ Culture
Again, there is a central contradiction at play in discussing same-sex legislation. On one hand, discourses around the replication or extension of the institution of heterosexual marriage are framed by a rhetoric of inclusion and incorporating the LGBT+ community into this “ancient institution,” and are assumed to be an inclusive alternative to the core concepts of patriarchy that would contribute to its subversion. But on the other, this ancient institution is characterized by traditional family structures, inherited societal expectations and social roles is just another appendage of the heterosexual patriarchal system and its normative frameworks outlining the form and nature of social relationships in modernity. 

It is often assumed that attempts for societal change, whether through the will of the people or through the political, social, and religious violence directed toward them, opens up new social space and introduces new social structures and rules that move in a positive direction. In theory, pushing for same-sex legislation promotes transcending the nuclear family unit and defines family ties anew, to be based on values of equality, freedom of choice, and justice rather than blood ties or legal recognition. This creates advocacy and support networks, as well as human-to-human bonds through which members of the LGBT+ community can share security and independence together, and establish a global LGBT+ culture structure.  

However, aspirations for inclusion and a sustainable  alternative to heteronormative and patriarchal family structures has proved too good to be true. Nearly two decades after the first gay marriage legislation in the Netherlands4 PEW RESEARCH CENTER: Same-Sex Marriage around the World. , the decline of a unified LGBTQ+ culture and the institutions and norms associated has become evident. Same-sex marriage legislation and its legal normalization has, rather than promoting true inclusion or recognition, reduced the LGBTQ+ community’s  and its members’ identities to celebrations and commercial opportunities. With incorporation, there is also a broad denial of the need to engage with groups based on sexual orientation, especially those marginalized because of it,  and denial of the need for organizing and social struggle for rights and acceptance of people with different sexualities and genders. What is recognized instead is economic interest and political affiliation, which ultimately reveal the socio-economic stratification that often underlies conflicts within the movement5 National Post: Gay weddings boost U.S. economy by $3.8 billion since landmark ruling, May 28, 2020. . 

Additionally, one cannot assume that adopting the standardization of legal or social models based on Western cultural systems yields positive outcomes or substantive change.  For example, in 2018, the ruling regime in Cuba made a constitutional amendment including the right to marry, and establishing a committee to approve same-sex marriage within two years. This was in an effort to open up markets and invite foreign investments by demonstrating socially-progressive policies6 PABLO DE LLANO: After decades of homophobia, Cuba closer to allowing same-sex marriage, EL PAÍS, 23 July 2018. . The amendment did not include any change to the fundamental nature of the political system or the system of rights and freedoms, and did not lead to change in the behavior of the State and its institutions that structure legal and social action. The State prevented a gay pride march in 2019, and practiced physical violence and detention against violators of the ban7 The New York Times: Defiance and Arrests at Cuba’s Gay Pride Parade, 12 May 2019. . And, it still refuses to deal with crimes against humanity committed in 1960s, when 800 queer people were killed in forced labor and “re-education” camps, content instead with the statement of former President Fidel Castro taking responsibility for these atrocities in 2010 rather than issuing an official apology or material compensation, or reforming the justice system8 BBC News: Fidel Castro takes blame for persecution of Cuban gays, 31 August 2010. . It seems that the international media celebration of the amendment was a premature one.

“…rhetoric around same-sex marriage as a human rights is controversial, largely because Western discourse authorizes and governs cultural perceptions and public awareness of human rights and freedoms globally.”

Najm posing with wedding dress. Photo by Hashem el Madani, Studio Shehrazade, Saida, 1950s, 2015,

In Our Countries
In our countries, it may seem irrelevant to talk about same-sex marriage given the prevailing view that sexuality from a prohibitive perspective and dismisses Arabic-speaking peoples’ experiences of it.  The patriarchy is well-entrenched in the social and psychological structures that govern the state and society, as seen in the resistance to change and maintenance of traditional social structures, values, and ties of blood, family, and tribe, and in the resulting hierarchical perceptions based on authoritarianism and submission to it, which contradicts values of equality, freedom, and modernity in general.  Perhaps the Arab system is among the few remaining that still bestows the title of “father-leader” on rulers, a title that demands absolute loyalty from its citizens. 

However, resistance social change in the region, the impossibility of same-sex legislation, and controversy surrounding even the idea of it do not prevent the topic from occupying a significant space in the arena of public debate, likely due to Western hegemony and the lack of knowledge production in contemporary national spaces. Because of this, same-sex marriage has become an object of legislation by authoritarian decision or popular referendum. In any part of the world, same-sex legislation might be cause for celebration and a chance to spread the colors of the rainbow on internet platforms, which becomes a tool to shape public knowledge and delineate appropriate behavior and perspectives. But despite serving this function and providing members of the LGBTQ+ community in the region a space of freedom, activity these virtual spaces often relegates their struggle to an object of sympathy, cloned festivities, or code.   At the same time as these moments of freedom and celebrations and virtual spaces, the state often exploits the matter and arrests members of the LGBTQ+ community for allegedly conducting same-sex marriage ceremonies, depicting this as a requirement of the LGBTQ+ rights movement and thus reducing awareness about homosexuality or the movement at large.   

The belief that the celebration of marriage legislation online is the pinnacle of the online human rights struggle, that it will lead to the ultimate adoption by a wide range of institutions and activists around gender and sexual minorities in the region, reflects the absence of space needed to build a modernist democratic infrastructure, the disconnect between the discourse it adopts and the real problems of society, and the gap between these civil society groups and the culture of the majority.  In other words, the class that arose to head Western-funded agencies and adopted liberal Western ideologies regarding personal and civil rights are those leading and speaking from research, media, and advocacy networks and institutions, and are not necessarily authorized by the majority of those who they speak for or aim to represent. Taking on such a liberal discourse without looking at the current complexities in implementing it means inadvertently relegating the struggle of LGBT+ people to a specific path with a fixed goal, whilst overlooking the forms of societal repression and economic strife that these same people face.  One must take a more comprehensive view, then, to realize that the problems of the LGBTQ+ community can neither be reduced to silence or overlooked in terms of recognition and rights. There are intersections in the forms and systems of oppression, domination and discrimination that they face along axes of race, religion, socio-economic class, and sexual orientation and gender expression.  

The struggle of the LGBTQ+ community cannot be separated from other movements for change that make up the political and social transformations taking place across the region, in which large numbers of the population come together in the call for equality, full and effective citizenship, and recognition of rights and freedoms. These majoritarian calls appear to be leading toward the dismantling of the patriarchal authority and deeply-entrenched oppressive societal norms. With each step they reveal the pretext of social repression based on gender roles and relationships, and eliminate the possibility for further legal persecution based on these human-made laws. 

بالعربي

In our next issue, My.Kali will be focusing on emigration & desolation (alienation – غُرْبَة), this psychological detachment of the individual from all that is familiar in time and place, the longing for what we left behind. We will try to focus on the relationship of this emotion and how it affects or related to our sexuality, how it persecutes us even in our “homeland,” as Naguib Mahfouz says, “The most severe form of alienation is that alienation you feel in your homeland” to the extent that it pushes you to flee away from it.

Text & Visual work

We welcome texts that discuss immigration and alienation and the experiences associated with them, we welcome joint work with writers on unprepared texts as well. Through this issue, we will attempt to document our experiences with emigration, asylum and exile, and how we view these experiences. What does homeland mean to us? How can we describe feelings of alienation and desolation? And what does this have to do or affect our sexuality? 

Visual work may include photography, illustrations, drawings, designs, digital painting, etc. that relate to this issue’s topic and any concept notes or abstracts you would like to accompany include. This work may have been produced previously (not necessarily published) or exclusive for this issue specifically. We also welcome archives. As long as all parties consent that the material can be published in My.Kali.

Given the circumstances of the COVID-19 pandemic, we encourage everyone to produce their works using all the necessary safety measure. Get creative and be experimental.

Submission details

• For written work, we are looking for texts from 750-1200 words. (Not previously published)
• Please send an abstract no less than 200 words to the magazine on (info@mykalimag.com) before beginning your written piece. This should include (a) the angle you want to cover, (b) the reason for choosing the topic and/or the angle, and (c) – optional -what it might add to the conversation about the topic (in other words, why is it important).
• For photography, art work and design, you can either submit ready work with a concept note or email us directly and we can let you know of what the writers are working on to inspire customized work.
• Our editors will work directly with the writers to finalize the pieces before publishing, it’s an interactive process.
• The person has the: complete freedom/right to maintain their own identities (using pen names or aliases), or to use their real name/chosen name. 
• EXTENSION/Deadline for the ‘concept note’ only, September 23rd, 2020. Submission of the full article would be arranged individually with the editors.

For more information/submissions, please email us at: info@mykalimag.com

You can also contact us via the contact us page

Featured image: “Cathedral Cars” by Thomas Mailaender

بالعربي

Written by Shousha
Artwork by Aude Nasr
This piece is from issue ’69’ – (here)

This is the story of Omar*, a 31-year-old Iraqi man who has AIDS. Omar is from a middle-class background, and is currently living in Baghdad. Below, he will tell his story of his childhood, his diagnosis, the struggle to find treatment and support, and how societal discrimination bleeds into exploitation in medical contexts. His story sheds light on the challenges that many in the region face.  

What was your childhood like? Could you describe your life for us before your diagnosis?
I was like any other child; I loved life and raising pets. My life was good, no problems or struggles. I was happy with my studies and my friends and family. However, my family went through a difficult financial situation that forced me to drop out of school and work as a salesperson at a store that sold women’s clothing.

Life went on as normal, and after a while I left work because of my uncle’s health problems. I traveled with him abroad to help him while he got an operation done because of his cancer. He needed care he couldn’t get in Iraq. I stayed with him for three months. The operation was successful, but a very short while after we arrived back in Iraq, his health deteriorated again and he became bedridden. I became his sole caretaker and the person who took care of all his affairs until he passed away in 2014. 

After, my life took a turn for the worse afterward. Problems with my family grew and my mental health deteriorated, so I left Iraq to go live in Turkey. I lived with a few young men and was happy with my new life.

How did you learn that you were HIV positive?
After living in Turkey for a year, I learned that my father’s health was declining. I returned to Iraq. My father passed, and when he did, my responsibilities grew considerably. I held many different jobs to be able to earn a living for my family and siblings. 

Despite these challenges, I complained of nothing. After a while, I started to notice pain in my lower back, and I found out I had a fistula after seeing a doctor. I had an operation done and the pain went away, but two days later, it returned stronger than ever. 

I went to another doctor and got comprehensive lab tests done, including a test that screened for HIV. It was through these tests that I learned I was HIV positive. I was in shock and didn’t tell anyone at first. When my mother eventually found out, she tried to give me advice and keep my spirits up. 

It was then that I started going to specialized clinics to learn about my options, and I was surprised to learn that there was a treatment and that there were many HIV positive people around the world who are able to lead normal lives. 

“Haven’t doctors taken an oath to provide medical services to those who need them unconditionally? Is it not a shame that doctors ask for additional fees from patients in order to agree to operate on someone with HIV?”

Artwork by Aude Nasr

Are there healthcare services for people with HIV in Iraq?
Things are different in Iraq. There is no medicine or even the necessary lab tests to assess and treat HIV, such as the viral load test and immunity tests. Some private clinics offer some of the necessary tests, but the prices are very high and the care patients receive is very bad.  I actually stopped looking for and visiting private clinics, and simply waited to receive treatment for HIV while also managing the pain of the fistula, which required an operation to treat. 

How do doctors react when they learn about your disease?
When doctors learn that I’m HIV positive, they refuse to help me. Some agree to help, but asked for astronomical amounts of money to operate on me. Some ask me to buy medical equipment and tools for them. After searching for two months, I couldn’t find anyone to perform the operation for my fistula. 

I then reached out to a doctor in Turkey who agreed to do the operation. I managed to come up with the required amount of money and had the operation in Turkey, and continued to seek out treatment for HIV once returning to Iraq. I even asked for help from a friend in the USA, telling him about my situation and my test results, but he cut me off completely when he learned I was HIV positive.

Have you told any of your other close friends?
I couldn’t tell anyone because of how society viewed my disease. I feared that people would gossip and wanted to protect my family. I let matters be because there was nothing I could do: there was no way to receive treatment in Iraq, and I couldn’t travel abroad to buy the treatment or run tests. I’ve been living with this disease since 2017.

What is the ideal next step?
I hope to be able to receive treatment. I want my condition to improve and to stay alive. I need someone to help me travel abroad to receive the necessary treatment and care, because in Iraq, the state of healthcare is in ruins and patients are taken advantage of and asked for exorbitant amounts of money in order to get the most basic of healthcare.

Do you think it’s acceptable for a doctor to refuse to operate on a patient who is HIV positive?
Doctors should know and be completely aware so they can protect themselves from the disease, but also know that it is relatively simple to keep themselves safe. Haven’t doctors taken an oath to provide medical services to those who need them unconditionally? Is it not a shame that doctors ask for additional fees from patients in order to agree to operate on someone with HIV? Isn’t it a shame that they’ve turned medicine into a business and take advantage of people? And here then remains the main problem, which is the unavailability of medicine and treatment for those who are HIV positive in Iraq, and that is what puts the entire Iraqi people at risk.

Written by Lizzy Vartanian Collier
Image: From series ‘Alterer/Desalterer‘, courtesy of Rim Battal.
This piece is from the ‘Weddings & Marriages’ issue (here)

Born in Casablanca, and now based in Paris, Rim Battal draws attention to the female form through her photography, focusing in on the way society expects women to present themselves through ritual and ceremony. In two series Les Mariees Liens [The bride’s links] and Alterer/Desalterer [to alter/to unalter], she presents distinctly feminine images that comment on marriage traditions and rituals surrounding womanhood and female sexuality. 

Her 2019 series, Alterer/Desalterer, depicts several images of a woman holding a partially peeled orange. Black threads are sewn through the skin where it has been torn, attempting to close it back together, but it refuses to be shut. The fruit is then passed from one hand to another, wrapped up in pearls and placed on top of a champagne glass. Appearing as a metaphor for the female anatomy, the orange presents itself as something that is in the hands of someone else, whose appearance and purpose is defined by another. 

In an earlier series, Les-mariees liens (2014), Rim shows a woman dressed for her wedding day. Thick kohl lines her eyes, henna covers her hands, and she is dripping in sparkly clothes and jewellery. But she looks like she has been crying, her wrists are tied together like handcuffs by her jewelled chains. On her wedding bed she lowers her head, hides behind her veil, and wraps her arms around her limbs as she clasps her legs shut. The images question the links created by marriage as an institution and as a ritual.

Commenting on the female body from a female perspective, Rim explores forms of oppression can be enacted through ritual. Her subjects, who include female friends and herself, seem dejected or in pain, drawing attention to the harsh impact that female-oriented traditions and rituals have on their bodies and mental well-being. Rim once wrote of the female body as a territory that has been colonized by religion, society, advertising, tradition and superstition. In her photography, Rim removes the rose-tinted layer of positivity associated with these traditions and superstitions, including marriage, to expose instead the struggle and torment that they often entail.

We spoke to Rim about why she turned to photography, the women in her work, and the importance of empowering female sexuality. 

How do marriage, honor and virginity feature in your work?
Marriage is present in my photography series, Les mariees-Liens, which I designed and produced in a studio while taking part in an art residency. As for virginity, I speak of it in an equally frontal way but with words. From January to April, I published “L’oeil des loups” on the website, Hymen redéfinitions. It is a web soap novel where I tell how I was forced to perform a virginity test when I was 19. It’s very dramatic and very funny at the same time. I’m quite proud I did that actually because it is not a fiction or a creative thing: everything is true. It took me more than a week to get out of my bed after I finished writing that testimony. But now I feel lighter somehow. So I invited every woman who had to live something similar to speak up.

Why do you think it’s important to discuss the female body in your work?
I actually never meant to discuss the female body, specifically. I just started photography one day, and was very interested in faces and hands. I have a slight kink for hands, so I really enjoyed making portraits of my friends, my female friends especially. Men’s faces never interested me actually. They are a bit invisible somehow. I don’t see them. As a woman, I generally avoid looking at a cis-hetero man’s face for more then two seconds. Otherwise they might think I’m in love with them. 

In the beginning it was about faces and hair, and making portraits of my female friends. As I was doing that, I felt some strange emotions that I couldn’t name at the time. I wanted to see their bodies, too. I wanted to see their shape, how they are different from mine when naked. It’s true that in Morocco we have hammams where we can see different bodies naked, but I have a very bad eyesight and contact lenses were not popular then. So in the hammam I only could see ghosts without my glasses. I was naked, every other woman – at least the ones with good vision – could see my body but I could not see theirs. 

Later on, I started with nude photography. It was all secret and I lost all of these first works because they were so illicite. I was also scared. I thought it was not important work because it did not resemble the nude photography I saw here and there. Now I know that those were from a man’s point of view. 

Today one can manage to publish nude photography on the internet under an alias, but when I started (circa 2007), the internet was not as developed and approachable as it is now. And the art scene was very small, and focused on a very small number of galleries and very few festivals. 

At some point I started looking at women’s bodies because I wanted them; I desired them. That’s also when I realized that it was impossible for me to photograph them properly when naked. I covered them with caftans and jewels and hand writing because I could not allow myself to desire the subject I was photographing, unlike a cis-het man. They photograph, desire, and try to f*ck. 

My own body and desire constrained me as a photographer, and that’s why I decided to use my own body in my work, as I did in [Alterer/Desalterer]. I don’t desire myself so I can use it as I want without feeling guilty or questioning my professionalism, without being afraid of making my model feel uncomfortable. 

“Rituals are set up to create an artificial link where there is no obvious bond. Rituals become oppressive when we are afraid that love fails to create common, solidarity, community.”

From series ‘Alterer/Desalterer’ by Rim Battal

I got a kind of sexual undertone from the images of oranges [Alterer/Desalterer]. Was that intentional? If so, what are they communicating?
There is. I spoke somehow about the restrictions and the constraints of women’s bodies. Now I want to speak about erotism, mighty and forceful women’s desire. Hidden women’s desire. That’s why there is my body covered, orange juice dripping in the crotch of my pink satin gown. 

What can you tell me about Les mariées-liens [the brides ties]? Who is the woman pictured in Les mariees-liens? Can you speak to the emotion she is baring to the camera?
If I say anything about the series, it would prevent the public from personalizing it with their own vécu, or experience of it. It will be my own and only piece of art, like a tattoo. If I wanted it to have just one meaning I would not show it. I would keep it private, not hang it in a gallery.  

The woman is a friend, Lamy. She is one of the smartest and sharpest people I know. She’s not a model, she’s a real woman, and being sharp and smart is not a gift for her but is hell in itself. When you are an intelligent and educated woman from a non-rich, non-privileged background, life is very tough. 

Lamy is postponing suicide, as a lot of people are doing. 

I am doing as well, and I don’t know for which mysterious reason (cowardness? convention?) but we manage to perpetuate life, to keep things as they are, clean, try to make entropy less devastating. But living on earth is like living in a trou noir. We only keep on falling. In a black hole the body stretches until it’s broken and disintegrated. On earth, the body, physically, does the opposite: it collapses on itself but it’s quite the same process. We fall into the black hole, we are born, and then we keep on falling. Maybe we can even manage to have some kind of sociability in a black hole. Who knows. We build things and beliefs as we do in this physical world because we want them so badly.

So yes, Lamy was feeling terrible because I put her in these traditional clothes, which are a symbol of patriarchy and oppression for her. It’s like taking an atheist in a mosque for the sake of art. You can’t ignore the anguish. 

Is it the pain that gendered rituals cause that attracts you to them? What draws you to study them through your work? 
These rituals must be studied to understand what are their origins and why did they become so oppressive. I believe that every sh**ty thing had a virtuous intention behind it at some point, but somehow people always turn to vanity, oppression and domination. The problem with domination is that it only takes one person who has a dominant behavior to turn another’s life into hell itself, but it takes all humanity aspiring for peace to have a fair and peaceful world to fix it. This will never happen. That’s why the best thing to do is to work on empowering our varying sexualities and make it as beautiful as possible and upheld by consent of every partner. Anything beyond that is illusory.

Rituals are set up to create an artificial link where there is no obvious bond. Rituals become oppressive when we are afraid that love fails to create common, solidarity, community. Rituals are oppressive when they are no longer in tune with their time. 

From series ‘Les-mariees liens’ by Rim Battal

What do you mean when you say ‘enhancing sexuality’? What scale or level are you imagining this happening? Does still-photography as a medium allow you to achieve this goal? If so, how?
Emancipating sexuality on every level will allow us to bring equality, equal pleasure, and transparency to our own beds and intimate relationships. By not ‘playing virgins’ anymore or ‘seeking purity’, by not being scared of our desires, we can explore and develop deep respect for mutual consent and other people’s bodies and different shapes. On a societal scale, we need to stand against everything political that tries to interfere with our erotism, everything that aims to use our genitals to rule or install an oppression based on shaming sexuality.

And what are you working on now?
I’m working on a photo series about all the artifices we use to be “a woman”. A photo book featuring these photos will be out in November. A poetry book, Les quatrains de l’All-inclusive, will be published in February at Le Castor Astral (a French publishing house). I also have a collective show in August at Little Big Gallerie, Montmartre, Paris, titled Carmina. And finally, I’m writing a novel that takes place in Casablanca, Morocco. 

I also published this feuilleton, which is actually my own story about how I had to prove to my own family that I was still a ‘virgin’ when I was 19 years old. It’s in French, one can read it here.

بالعربي

Written by Reem Mahmood
Translated by N.H.
Design by Lina A.
Image used within design, courtesy of Photo Studio Al-Ameen.
This piece is from the ‘Weddings & Marriages’ issue (here)

Memories, experiences and friends’ memories filled my head when I began working on this article on the pressure to marry, and my inbox flooded with messages after I solicited more stories on a closed Facebook group of women. Marriage is the only socially acceptable form of relationship between members of the opposite sex in our society, and this norm is essential for society’s survival and cohesion. Marriage is a “fact of life,” something commonly said in communities in our region. It is not only important but almost sacred, and thus thus becomes an immense pressure on young women and men that influences their professional, social, and personal lives. 

It goes without saying that marriage haunts the lives of women more than men. From childhood, society convinces women that marriage is a marker of their worth, and the only thing that could guarantee them a good life. It is like an obsession. Pressure to marry becomes just another burden on the LGBT+ community in the region, in addition to the other social norms and constraints that they already have to deal with. 

Marriage and Careers

Lama does not remember when she first felt pressure to get married. “There were always comments related to marriage. Prayers for every woman and man in our family for a good and quick marriage. But since I graduated in 2010, I was only aware of one thing: my desire to explore the world. I wanted to travel and learn about other cultures and peoples. This angered my mother. She, like society at large, thought professional or personal ambitions were not adequate reasons to sacrifice marriage or babies.”
Lama has been living in Russia for almost two years now, but her mother still pushes her point on every phone call. She tells Lama how upset she is that her 34-year-old daughter still hasn’t gotten married, and that Lama might not find someone to accept her ambitions, her life full of adventure, and the fact that she lived abroad. 

No woman’s life is free of marriage-related pressure. As women, we grow up being taught that our world revolves around it and it is our only goal. Marriage is the end we are supposed to run toward. 

It is not hard for women to recognize that society views them as a commodity in the marriage marketplace, a commodity whose value can decrease or increase depending on beauty, behavior, and how closely they conform to societal standards. In many cases, women are committed to their careers or are aware they are not ready to get married, but marriage intrudes and haunts them, forcing them to give up on their professional and personal aspirations. If women do not give in, they are told they are wrong and that they will come to regret their decision. 

Laila, a 21-year old woman in her third year of medical school, said, “I will graduate and finish studying my specialization when I’m about 27. I plan on getting married after I seriously enter the workforce, in a way that guarantees a comfortable or at least sufficient living standard. Most of my friends have either gotten married or engaged, and some of them have become mothers. The whole thing has become a strange obsession. On the one hand, I want to start a family without having to give up things that have to do with my career. But on the other hand, there is pressure from my family and thinly veiled jokes about the advantages of an early marriage and pregnancy. Women are affected the most when they decide to pursue careers and invest many years of their life into this pursuit. Men do not have the same reasons to care about age as much as women.”

“…my father and older brother told me  that I could not welcome my sister’s suitors. They didn’t tell me why, but it wasn’t the first time my family made me guilty that I was repelling my only sister’s suitors, especially since my sister was over 30.”

Design by Lina A.

Marriage and Body Image

The idea that a woman’s worth or value revolves around her marriage status or whether she has children shapes women’s life in very practical ways. Once a girl shows the first signs of puberty, beauty becomes her primary virtue and pursuit, the thing she must work to achieve. If a woman neglects her appearance or does not (according to standards set by patriarchal society) prioritize beauty, this negligence will be interpreted as indifference toward marriage or toward attracting a man to get engaged and then married to. This will render her vulnerable to the opinions and advice of the people around her. 

Samar, 27-years old, said, “During the last 5 years, I began to noticeably gain weight. I neared 80 kg. Pressure to lose the weight began to mount. According to my family and friends, I would not find a man to accept my current weight. The pressure to lose weight has doubled over the last two years. Though initially it was out of fear for my health, the concern has now changed to whether I will find a man to marry me.” 

Most women have grown up with this fear of being alone, undesirable, or unacceptable in the marriage marketplace, and the bleak image of an old woman knitting in a corner of a home for the elderly has followed us since childhood. This image represents, according to society, the single major catastrophe that a woman might face.

Monsters can take several forms, and they accompany us throughout our lives. They might take the form in obsessing over losing one’s hymen, or whether someone conforms to societal beauty standards that might attract even the lowest choice of acceptable suitors. They might take form in the fear that following our dreams and professional ambitions will leave us to lead a life alone, or that any choice that does not point directly to marriage is a misstep. 

Marriage and the LGBTQ+ Community: 

We cannot ignore the LGBTQ+ community and their struggle when talking about the pressure that women face regarding marriage and having children, or fulfilling what is considered a “fact of life” by most. 

Wissam said that, “Not a week goes by without my mother bringing up the topic of marriage with me: ‘I’ll find you the most perfect bride. I want to see you happy and I want grandchildren, my child. You’re my only son and I’m afraid I’ll die before I get to carry your children in my arms.’” Wissam is a member of the LGBTQ+ community, but wasn’t able to come out to anyone except to a few of his close friends.The pressure he faces around marriage and having children is mounting, but he said that, “I can’t tell my mother about my sexual orientation, and I can’t continue to make up excuses as to why I’m reluctant to get married. My mother forced me, on more than one occasion, to visit the houses of relatives to see their daughters, which is something very strange. These visits made me feel how difficult and impossible my attempts to comply with society’s rules were, and they made me realize the extent of the pressure being put on me to hide my identity and truth.”

Like the women mentioned above, spinsterhood is present in the minds of many in the LGBTQ+ community from puberty like an ever-present monster,  even as we are rejected from marital institutions. 

Hashem is a 26-year-old in a family with four brothers. He talked about the pressure he faces because of his gender expression and the way he presents himself, which does not comply with the strict rules forced upon men in our patriarchal, heterosexual, cisgender society, which shows in the way they speak, dress, and express their feelings. “At the beginning of this year, my father and older brother told me  that I could not welcome my sister’s suitors. They didn’t tell me why, but it wasn’t the first time my family made me guilty that I was repelling my only sister’s suitors, especially since my sister was over 30. The ‘need to marry her off’ became the family’s sole occupation and what kept my parent’s up at night.”

Conclusion

Marriage is a fact of life and a most virtuous goal. 

This sentiment is forced on us by society and puts an immeasurable amount of pressure on the younger generations. Heterosexual marriage is an additional worry for many members of the LGBTQ+ community, especially considering they already struggle with their constant attempts to hide their identity in a society that denies their right to have such an identity. Presenting straight-marriage as the sole life institution or as life’s greatest goal or the reason we exist puts members of the LGBTQ+ community in an especially tough situation in our patriarchal, heterosexual, cisgender societies.

This is not to detract from the very difficult experience of women’s experiences with the pressure to marry. The moment a girl hits puberty, she is subject to a torrent of messages on the importance of marriage. It can reach the extent that women measure their worth on this metric of ‘marriageability’ alone. 

Marriage is used as another tool to oppress women and control their professional and personal ambitions. It is a tool to confine and restrict any woman who dares to consider herself as anything more than just a vessel for sex and reproduction, or is audacious enough to place marriage and reproduction toward the end of her list of priorities. Society forces women to stay in marriages that are abusive and unsafe and that take a toll on their physical and psychological health. The monster-like grip of “spinsterhood” is luckily starting to lose its hold on us as women. Life is starting to appear more clearly to us, unobstructed by the patriarchal view that is forced over our eyes ever since the moment we enter into this world.