Reports From Our Fellows Archives

"To Be a Woman In Pakistan Is To Ask For a Life of Subservience"

Women in Islamic societies have long struggled to assert their rights, and especially so in Pakistan. When I chose to be a journalist, my family opposed my decision. They probably understood that a woman’s assertiveness does not make for peace and stability in patriarchal Pakistani society.

I made women and their plight my major concern when I began reporting on family and society, first for The Frontier Post and later at The Friday Times. At the time, I was particularly aware of the increasing crimes against women in Pakistan. This filled me with anger and frustration, and I joined others in revealing more about instances of such violence.

Pakistani women continue to be victims of an unjust society rooted in history and tradition. Lack of awareness about their rights and their need for education has added to their predicament. Most Islamic communities are averse to the idea of giving women social status equal to that of men. That a strong feudal elite still rules the roost in the vast countryside is a major impediment to enlightenment and democracy, while a powerful clergy rejects all notions of equality and freedom for women. Those women who rebel by asserting their rightful place in society are punished and considered immoral; many have been the victims of domestic violence, rape, and murder.

Beset with ignorance, especially among women, Pakistani society appears hopelessly attached to illogical beliefs and inhuman customs. At the threshold of the twenty-first century, Pakistan is predominantly a patriarchal society: Its population (30 per cent urban and 70 per cent rural) relies on its "manpower," pushing women (55 per cent of the population) into inertia and neglect. They are encouraged to pursue their "role within their family" and become child-bearing machines with little choice to make decisions.

To be a woman in Pakistan is to ask for a life of subservience. The law is often stacked against women, so seeking justice is not always a good idea. For example, the long-debated issue of a wali’s (a responsible male member of the family) involvement in marriage arrangements, including the choice of husband, has led to many murders of young women who revolted against the wishes of their parents. One woman who sought a divorce, Saima Imran, was murdered three years ago in the office of a human-rights activist and lawyer in Lahore. One internationally reviled practice in recent times is that of "honour-killing." Under this practice any female member of the family or tribe (whether mother, daughter, wife, or even grandmother) risks getting killed if suspected of an illicit relationship with a man outside the family. (It is sad but true that one macabre method of seeking revenge among some Pakistani men is to dishonour their women). In the case of honour killings, the perpetrators often evade punishment by claiming that the murder was committed in a "rage of honour" — a state of mind that apparently enables men to eliminate any blemish on their family’s or tribe’s honour. This practice is particularly prevalent in the areas bordering Afghanistan, and is also seeping into cities.

Islam promises women the right to inherit. Unfortunately, women’s inheritance shares are half that of men. In some instances, greedy feudal folks have thought it expedient to marry their sisters and daughters off to Quran (the holy book of Muslims) in order to grab their wealth. Women who are married to the holy book are considered pure and are to remain aloof from society. They often die without ever stepping out of their houses.

Getting a divorce is a near impossible task for a woman in Pakistan, and a divorcee is looked down upon by society. Though the nikkahnama (the legal marriage paper) does allow women the right to a divorce, less than 1 per cent are granted this right. Even parents discourage their daughter from asking for a divorce. It is dispiriting in the extreme that cases of violence do not soften public opinion, since many people continue to believe that divorce is not the answer to domestic violence. In the early 1990’s there were reports of mysterious deaths of women by accidental oil-stove bursts. What shocked many was that some of the women dying of their first-degree burns didn’t say a word against their in-laws out of fear for their children’s lives.

Though the print media and humanrights organizations pay considerable attention to the plight of women, limited funds and efforts have brought little change in the situation. Lack of support from government institutions and continuing resistance from obscurantist elements have prevented women from breaking their shackles. Above all, the so-called Hudood Laws (Islamic punishment for adultery) prevent women from reporting crimes against them. Some have ended up in jail under charges of adultery because of their failure to prove a rape.

These are among the many issues I hope to explore in a book I am writing about crimes against women in Pakistan. Ameera Javeria was most recently a feature writer at The Friday Times, based in Lahore, Pakistan.