Arab spring the storm after the storm

While working as a news editor in Beirut, I once had to pick a picture that illustrated Yemeni desperation in the face of former President Abdullah Saleh refusing to step down. The date was February 2011 and the occasion a Friday prayer. I was torn between an image that featured a crowd of women clothed in abayas, weeping as they knelt down, raising their hands to implore the Lord’s mercy at a mosque. The other picture focused on just one man who was shedding a few tears in a blurred background of people.

When I asked a fellow Lebanese journalist for advice, he immediately suggested that I select the latter. He contended that since Arab women are extremely emotional, it is common to see them cry. The sight of an Arab male weeping is more powerful. Even though his comment was just meant to underline a predominant cultural trait, it disturbed me somehow. I realise now that for a woman in particular, witnessing the Muslim world change can be deeply inspiring. It debunks the stereotypical image of the subservient Arab female, but more importantly it subverts the notion of an apathetic Arab world.

During the Arab Spring, women have upturned their traditional status in highly patriarchal societies. They have faced the violence of tear gas in their struggle for freedom. They have come into the limelight when Yemeni journalist and activist Tawakkol Karman won the Nobel Peace Prize. Across North Africa and the Middle East, protesters have rewritten the history of the past century. The way that the Chinese have imposed themselves on the international stage after a century of humiliation, Arabs have gained prominence worldwide as they proved that they were a highly politicised people.

What fascinated me as I covered the Arab revolutions was the intensity of varied emotions people expressed. It was easy to sense the deep ire Egyptians felt for the Old Guard. Coverage of Libyans burning Gaddafi’s Green Book emphasised their unshakable commitment to revolt and change. Despite crackdowns by Assad’s military forces, Syrians have been impressively steadfast and fearless. And the idealistic Moroccans have perhaps been the most pragmatic of all protesters. When I participated in the February 20 (anti-government) demonstrations in the suburb of Sidi Maarouf near Casablanca just a few weeks before the November 2011 electoral turning point, I was impressed by their enthusiasm. As protesters were shouting, “They live in palaces and we dig graves”, I sensed that these people were deeply fearful of chaos. Thus, they carefully formulated their demands and ensured not to mention any overthrow of the regime.

But despite these displays of brave unity, women have clearly not earned the same status as men in protests. I find deplorable the instances of sexual assaults to crush women or just harass them, such as CBS correspondent Lara Logan’s public rape by Egyptians. I can honestly say that I could have had troubles in Tahrir Square if I was not walking around with a male friend. I even had to slap an Egyptian demonstrator after he touched me inappropriately. Arab men are clearly not accustomed to women playing a public role.

But there is a larger tragedy. Disappointment has unexpectedly followed the thrill. What started as a secular movement has now triggered Islamic electoral landslides in Tunisia, Morocco and Egypt. Libya may also have the same fate. Throughout the Middle East and North Africa, the Arab Spring’s young initiators have had no clear political structure and have enabled organised Islamist factions to fill the vacuum.

When I attended a weekly brainstorming gathering of Morocco’s February 20 movement at the headquarters of the Unified Socialist Party (PSU) in Casablanca, I grasped the protesters’ frustration. These students and young professionals were genuinely willing to reform their country, but clearly lacked the skills to do so. Indeed, how could one expect a university student of economics to organise nationwide sit-ins?

For example, there was no coordination between demonstrators in different Moroccan cities, despite the fact that they were often communicating through social media and blogs. In addition, official media denied these people’s existence by refusing to cover the protests. Such factors contributed to the momentum Islamists gained. I actually saw many of them distributing tracts in the streets during protests to encourage citizens to vote for an Islamic party. The argument being that it provides an effective platform for reform.

Moreover, these religious groups have found legitimacy thanks to their political virginity, after Arab governments muzzled them for years. In a coffee place across Tahrir Square in Cairo, I discussed with a local journalist the growing influence of the Muslim Brotherhood. As he put it, the Brotherhood did not want to be identified with the protesters at the start of the uprising. Yet, after the demonstrators did the ‘dirty job’ of organising protests across the country, Islamists progressively infiltrated the scene.

For my part, I am wary of the outcome of Islamic electoral victories. Let us remember that the reason why Arab women suffer from discriminatory legislation such as “guardianship laws” and have the status of minors is, first and foremost, because of the application of Islamic laws — the Sharia. Hence, I do not see how the rise of Islamist parties will, in any way, improve Arab women’s fate or encourage democracy.

After being on a pedestal during the Arab Spring, women might now receive far less public attention, especially in Egypt where hardliner Salafists, who aim at implementing a purist interpretation of Islam, have won 20% of the second-round vote. For instance, the committee to redraft Egypt’s new constitution after Mubarak’s ouster excluded women, even female legal experts. In Tunisia, which pioneered a 1956 law granting women full equality with men in terms of marriage, divorce and child custody, En-Nahda organised sit-ins in rural areas where women were separated from men for the first time.

When I talked to Tunisian expatriates in France, they all agreed that the number of veiled women has sharply increased in Tunisia’s streets since Ben Ali was toppled. It is a pity that in the aftermath of the Arab Spring, morality is being favoured over emancipation.

The author has worked as a news editor with the Middle East and North Africa desk at The Daily Star newspaper in Beirut, Lebanon. She now lives in Hong Kong.