Article shared by Lisa Thompson, IAST, Salvation Army.
Friday, 10 September 2010
All this week, 'The Independent' has been highlighting a global scandal: the murder of thousands of women every year in the name of 'honour'. Here, Robert Fisk concludes a remarkable series of reports by reflecting on his findings
The old Pakistani maulawi laid two currency bills on the table between us, one for 50 rupees, the other for 100 rupees. "Now tell me," Rahat Gul asked, "which is the more valuable?" I thought it was a trap – which it was, in a way – but he lost patience with me and seized the 100 rupee note. "Now come with me." And he stood up and led me down a narrow corridor into a small bedroom. There was a camp bed, a military radio and, at the far end, a giant British-made safe. He fiddled with the combination and hauled on the iron door. Then he placed the 100 rupee bill inside and locked the vault. "You see?" he said. "This is like a woman. She must be protected and looked after, because she is more precious than us."Reader, this is no joke. This whole piece of entirely spontaneous theatre occurred several years ago in what was then called the North West Frontier Province. But I actually possess a videotape of the entire proceedings, in which you see me following the divine to his safe and hear him comparing the worth of the currency bill to the worth of a woman. I was supposed to be impressed by the high status which he accorded women. What struck me, of course, was that this high status appeared to accord women an exclusively economic value – she was a bank account – and that this might lie behind the whole misogynistic system which led us to the curse of "honour" crime.
"Two things will happen when you write your reports about 'honour' killing, Mr Robert," an old Egyptian friend tells me in Alexandria. "Firstly, they will say you are using Muslims as whipping boys – even though this has nothing to do with Islam. And then you will be accused of demeaning the Arab nation or Egypt or Jordan or Pakistan or Turkey." Well, we shall see.
I walk into the office of Ahmed Najdawi, an elderly Jordanian lawyer whose walls are decorated with photographs of his hero, Saddam Hussein. There is even a picture of Saddam greeting a very proud Mr Najdawi. A secular man, then, a man of the people, for Saddam remains a hero to many in Amman. But no, Ahmed Najdawi often represents the families who commit "honour" killings, those who have killed their wives or daughters or sisters.
He believes the whole subject has become "super-exposed" for political reasons, because "Muslims are an easy target". This happens all over the world, he insists. "Although mostly it has to do with Eastern cultures." He talks about the Ottoman empire, how its rules formulated "primitive laws that defended primitive customs", how "customs are stronger than laws."
I know what's coming next. Didn't we Westerners used to treat women the same way? "In Europe, they used to burn women for adultery." Yes, it's true. And not long ago, unmarried British women who were pregnant were locked up in lunatic asylums. Anyway, didn't "honour" matter to European men in the Renaissance?
And back in Beirut, I open my old copy of Shakespeare, to that most bloody of plays, toTitus Andronicus. The hero's daughter Lavinia has been raped and mutilated, and Andronicus is contemplating her "honour" killing.
Titus: Was it well done of rash Virginius
To slay his daughter with his own right hand
Because she was enforced, stained and
deflowered?
Saturninus: It was, Andronicus...
Because the girl should not survive her shame
And by her presence still renew his sorrows.
So Lavinia's fate is sealed.
Titus: Die, die, Lavinia, and thy shame with thee,
And with thy shame thy father's sorrows die.
But does the father's sorrow die?
"There is remorse, for sure," Najdawi says. "They commit these crimes, motivated by the cultural aspects. But when time calms them down, they feel regret. Nobody kills a wife or a sister or a daughter without later feeling remorse."
Yet nothing comes closer to Titus Andronicus than the insistent, terrible stories of gang rape by United States personnel in Abu Ghraib. You hear this repeatedly in Amman, and a very accurate source of mine in Washington – a man who deals with military personnel – tells me they are true. This, he says, is why Barack Obama changed his mind about releasing the photographs which George W Bush refused to make public. The pictures we saw – of the humiliation of men – were outrageous enough. But the ones we haven't seen show Americans raping Iraqi women.
Lima Nabil, a journalist who now runs a home for on-the-run girls, sips coffee as the boiling Jordanian sun frowns through the window at us. "InAbu Ghraib," she says, "women were tortured by the Americans much more than the men. One woman said she witnessed five girls being raped. Most of the women in the prison were raped – some of them left prison pregnant. Families killed some of these women – because of the shame."
Lima has written many articles about Jordan's "honour" crimes. At least one was censored. She has – like other journalists – been threatened. "Out here, we have closed communities, where everyone knows everyone else. In tribal law, in the old days, the sheikh would protect you. Now the government is trying to take over."
Mr Najdawi agrees. "We have just had an amendment to the law – it gives equality to men and women over 'honour'-related issues. It says that a woman must be treated the same way if she kills her husband. But either way, if a husband kills his wife, this is regarded as murder with intent and he cannot receive less than 10 years. However many mitigating circumstances, the crime was still intentional." And it's true that Amman courts have now been handing out 14-year sentences to men for "honour" crimes and intend to make the guilty serve their full sentences.
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