Egyptian men have a bad reputation. Horror stories abound of women being
subjected to harassment, from catcalls to rape.
But the focus on how terrible Egyptian men supposedly are
belies a fundamental disconnect about not only Egyptian men but Western men as
well. It ignores the fact that sexism, sexual harassment, domestic violence, and sexual assault are endemic in Western societies. Yes, there are plenty of
douches in Egypt. There were days I wanted to punch the next guy who called me
a mozah. But I know and have interacted with way more good, decent, respectful
Egyptian men than disrespectful ones.
First, a short introduction for those who may not know me to
contextualize my reaction. I’m a
twenty-something white American who travels pretty extensively throughout the
Middle East. I do not consider
myself ugly and, thanks to my love of running and lifting, am pretty fit. I don’t dress super fancy or
skimpy. I’m not sure how else to
say this, but not even the abaya I had to wear while in Saudi hid the fact my
theme song could be, “Baby’s Got Back.”
In short? I’m a pretty good target for sexual harassment. But
I’ve had many more problems with sexual harassment and discrimination at home
than in Egypt.
Late one night last summer in Cairo, my two American guy
friends and I took the metro home.
The platform was packed, and the metro was even more so. I’m pretty good
at pushing my way into small spaces, and after I got on the train I turned
around just in time to see the doors close—with my friends being left on the
platform. Crap, I thought. I looked around—it was 2am or something
and I was in a metro car full of men.
Alone. And something
amazing happened. Almost instantaneously, there was a bubble around me. Perhaps it was the post-revolutionary
euphoria, but every man around me was conscious to not even touch me, despite
the fact we were pressed in like sardines. One guy even offered me gum.
This is not to say there is no problem with sexual
harassment in Egyptian society—there undoubtedly is. But it’s not a problem unique to Egypt, and Westerners
should think twice about their own societies before passing judgment on a huge
swath of Egypt’s population. What is more, I would be hard pressed to name one
society—ONE—not grappling with some form of sexual harassment or
discrimination.
I’m on this listserv called Cairo Scholars where khwagas
(Arabic slang for foreigners) send out questions—where can I get soya products?
Where can I get fish (the fish market?!?!), where can I get a clown (!!!), or
apartment vacancies. This morning,
controversy broke out when one dude sent out and email to the thousands of subscribers, highlighting
an article about sexual harassment and saying, “Another fine example of the way
women, and western women, are seen and treated in Egyptian culture.” A few
weeks ago, there was a similarly condescending conversation on Mona el-Tahawy’s
article, “Why Do They Hate Us?” The highlights of that conversation: “I wonder
if Egyptians are ever going to do something about this?” and “I have been
wondering myself what Egyptians are doing in their daily lives” (Ask).
How can people have such a lack of understanding about
Egypt—the society in which they ostensibly live? And get off your high horse.
We’ve got our issues too.
In one particularly cringe-worthy moment, I was at a
cousin’s wedding, chatting with some distant family member about what I
did. He asked me if I was a nurse
or a teacher; I said no, I worked on Capitol Hill. Oh, where did I go and what did I study to get into that
kind of work? English? Ugh. He asked me if I was a typist or secretary, I said
no, I am working on an investigation into offshore money laundering and another
on corrupt African dictatorships.
After undergrad I worked for a few years for the United
States Congress and if there is any institution with a sexual harassment and
discrimination problem, it’s Congress.
I cannot even list the amount of times I was dismissed of being some
starry-eyed, “cute” girl with a silly dream of saving the world. Nor can I list
the amount of meetings I attended in which my counterpart did not look me in
the face.
It didn’t matter that I graduated from a good school, was
successful, was all business and had no problem with kicking butt and taking
names. Some people were so blinded
by my appearance and their own preconceptions they refused to give me real
credit for my work.
A few Thanksgivings ago, I had made dinner and my family
enjoyed the fruits of my labor, we all stood up to clean—except the men. They
went into the other room to watch football. So I followed them, told them that
I cooked so they clean. My dad looked at me incredulously, but I was serious.
And they went into the kitchen and cleaned.
How many times have I been walking down the street or
running—RUNNING—on the treadmill and told, “Honey, why aren’t you smiling?” Who
just walks around by themselves smiling like an idiot? Who runs on a treadmill
smiling?
Not to mention the number of times I’ve been on the
treadmill in front of a mirror and see guys behind me, just standing there
staring.
One day I was waiting for a taxi to take me to the airport in Italy and some man kept on walking after me and saying gross stuff in the deserted streets at 4am. I had to flag down a garbage man to stay with me until the cab arrived.
And yes. Domestic violence happens.
I admit these instances are different from those highlighted
in the press regarding Egyptian men, but understanding the limitations and
weaknesses in our own society is important before we go passing judgment on
others.
Nothing disgusts me more than Westerners—especially men—patting
themselves on the back for how they treat women or making lofty declarations
about how men in other societies treat women. He who has never sexually
harassed, throw the first stone. I think we would find there would be very few
stones thrown.