They Hate Us? Who?

“They don't hate us because of our freedoms, as the tired, post-9/11 American cliché had it. We have no freedoms because they hate us, as this Arab woman so powerfully says.

Yes: They hate us. It must be said.”

These words are from the now infamous “Why Do They Hate Us?” piece by Mona Eltahawy. If you’re reading this, then you’ve already read her article, and are probably aware of the Twitterquake that struck earlier today, the after-shocks of which are still rocking op-ed columns and blogs (like this one) all over.

Having read the article, I have to say, I wasn’t immediately struck by any bristling anger; nor did my blood boil. I found a lot of the piece rang true with me, and I recognized the effects of the “misogynistic hate” Mona describes on my own life, like the frustration experienced during my youth in Saudi Arabia, where I wasn’t permitted to drive (FYI, it’s really immoral for a woman to drive. We might go mental with all the freedom and accidentally commit adultery 28 times in the first few hours). I didn’t really agree with the core of the article – that men hate women – and it seems I’m not alone. My main qualm with the piece is that, in my experience, the men of the Middle East are some of the most loving towards the gentler sex, a realisation I came to make when moving to Europe and discovering the objectification of women. Obviously, you can’t live in Saudi Arabia for a good while without coming across some weirdos, re: my next door neighbour’s dad beating her and her sister up regularly for absolutely no reason whatsoever – or the charming security officer who told me to cover my hair up when I was EIGHT (eight is a really hot age) lest I tempt any of the (married) men around.

However, other than these few idiots, who were clearly motivated by something other than all-permeating hate for the ladies, I’ve never found a man who detests women in the Middle East. Now, I can admit that I absolutely do not speak for the experiences of the millions upon millions of Arab women in the world, a good portion of whom have suffered at the hands of the sexism and chauvinism that Mona lambasts in her article. This aside, and, keeping in mind I’m no Snape at Occlumency (ignore if you aren’t a Harry Potter freakaloid), I don’t see the motives of this men as being grounded in hatred for women. I think they have other things on their mind – the movement to restore the Islam from the Prophet’s (pbuh) time to Muslim society, the preservation of the status quo – as has been clearly demonstrated in the ruling regime’s violent oppression of every single local Arab Spring movement – whatever, but I don’t think it’s hate.

I’m pretty sure there’s some fear somewhere hidden in there, a fear that I can’t really make out; but I’m positive that there are some men, higher up in Arab political circles, who would like to see women sit the eff down over women’s liberty and the basic human rights they demand. These men won’t hate women though, they’ll hate the idea of women disrupting the status quo, the way things always were – “why can’t you be like my mother?” – that type of thing. The old mentality still exists in our aging politicians’ brains, no matter how hard they try to hide it. But these are just a few, albeit extraordinarily powerful men, so it’s certainly not valid to taint all Arab men with the woman-hating brush. I literally cannot think of a man – whether he be Syrian, Moroccan, Jordanian or Saudi – that doesn’t love the family matriarch (mother, grandmother, whatever), his sisters, and all of his female friends to death. I’ve experienced the feeling of safety when out with male friends in Egypt, who I am positive would let no harm come to me (let alone hurt me himself) in contrast to the isolation of some of my friends in Europe, who are caged in by their unwillingness to show their emotional attachment to female friends, lest they be called “whipped” or “gay”.

But whatever, may I just found the good ones, the Arab men that love women and hate the rare species of brothers who would lay a finger on a girl or box her in emotionally. I know my dad is a good one, I know my brother will always look after me, and I know that I am extremely lucky to have not been one of the women who’s had to suffer emotional, physical or sexual abuse at the hands of any male. I don’t think it’s a symptom of being an Arab man that you automatically want to grope a woman or deny her the right to dress how she likes – after all, aren’t instances of sexual assault massively high in the Western world, and aren’t women more condemned for what we wear here than in the Middle East?

I know that everyone’s experiences are vastly different, that every woman will have her own opinion on this, but I think it’s especially needed today, of all days, for a woman who’s been blessed with the caring love and protection of our Arab men, to stand up for them and say that I don’t think you hate us!