The Struggle of Kurdish Women
Kurdish Aspect - By Tiare Rath
As an American woman, my friends and family were concerned about my living and working as a woman in Iraq. Would I have to wear an abayya? Would I be able to work and live freely as a woman? I responded with the propaganda slogans employed by Kurds (mostly Kurdish men) to show that their culture is "liberal" and even "feminist": Women don't have to veil in the north, I said. And Kurdish women even fight with the Peshmarga.
I adopted those ideas before I had actually been to Iraqi Kurdistan (or to any Kurdish territory, for that matter.) I lived in Sulaimaniyah for a year, from 2005 to 2006. As an editor with the Institute for War and Peace Reporting, I worked with Iraqi journalists from throughout the country. Part of the institute's goal is to support female journalists, so I developed particularly close relationships with our women reporters, especially those in Iraqi Kurdistan.
It is true that women in Iraqi Kurdistan dress more liberally than the rest of Iraq. Sulaimaniyah is perhaps the most liberal city in the country, where men and women stroll together arm-in-arm on the streets and women often wear knee-length skirts. Women have served as fighters for Kurdistan, and women's rights advocates have been somewhat successful in pushing for reforms to protect women, such as pressing to ban honor crimes.
But just as Iraqi Kurdistan is only occasionally democratic, it is also only occasionally feminist. Iraqi Kurdish women struggle with many of the same social, political and legal restrictions that exist elsewhere in the Middle East. Iraqi Kurdistan is not, in my view, a center of progressive, feminist movements or thought for the region. While women's advocates remain vocal and press hard for change, women and girls face difficulties in Iraqi Kurdistan that are simply not being addressed.
Western visitors to Iraqi Kurdistan may be deceived that because many of the women don't veil, they are better off than in other cities and countries where wearing the hijab is more common. But in reality a veil is just that -- a scarf that is tied around a woman's head. It is a piece of material that has created much controversy because it is perhaps the most visual symbol of modesty and, in modern terms, Islam. It does not represent a woman's education level, her role in her family or her social or economic power.
I learned this during the three years I lived in Lebanon. The dress standards for Lebanese women are more liberal than those for American or British women, but that doesn't equate power or gender equality. Lebanese women, in fact, do not hold significant political power and, like Kurdish women, those who manage to rise to power do so because they come from prominent families.
Unlike other countries in the region, including Iraq, Lebanon's parliament does not have a minimum quota for women representatives. As a result, Lebanon's political female representation is dismal compared to other countries in the region, even though Lebanese women enjoy far more social and educational freedoms and tend to hold economic power than women in other Arab countries.
Kurdistan is, in many ways, the same. Secular Kurdish women were among the most outspoken critics of sharia laws being used as the main source of legislation in the Iraqi constitution and tend to be the most vocal opponents of Islamic influence over women's issues, such as polygamy. The predominantly secular Kurdistan Alliance in Baghdad supports such positions and is widely viewed as a coalition that stands up for women's rights.
But the numbers tell a different story: The Kurdistan Alliance won 53 seats in parliament, but allotted only nine or 17 percent – of its posts to women. Meanwhile, the Islamic-dominated United Iraqi Alliance gave 23 percent of its seats to women MPs. The Kurdistan Regional Government is worse: Only three of its 44 ministers are women. All of the ministers are members of the Kurdistan Democratic Party.
There are a plethora of women's civic organizations in Iraqi Kurdistan, but they, like most "civil society" groups, are actually umbrellas of the parties and, as an extension, the government. They push for change within the parties and advocate for women, but their critiques are within the scope of their parties. And considering that women hold such little political power, their voices even within the political and party system are limited. There are other female leaders who do not hold office, such as Jalal Talabani's wife Hero, who is a prominent and controversial figure. But a strong, independent women's organization simply does not -- and cannot -- exist in Iraqi Kurdistan in its current state.
What surprised me most, however, is the little social space Kurdish women have. Women are largely outnumbered by men even in the market on a Saturday afternoon, and all socialization for women appears to occur within homes. While a handful of women – mostly students or working women – spend time in parks and restaurants, there are no cafes, teahouses or other meeting spaces where women (and especially women and men) can comfortably gather, as they have in many parts of the Middle East. The new Zagros café in Sulaimaniyah is entirely male-dominated, and the few women I have seen there appeared to be returnees from Western countries. A waitress at Zagros café told me that she had been ridiculed for working there and some considered her a version of a prostitute for serving at a café, and working at night.
This wouldn't bother me if it did not bother many of the Kurdish women I spoke with. Kurdish leaders blame the lack of space for women on Islamists, who are popular scapegoats in the region. But the fact is that few people –not just the Islamists – are aiding women or trying to change their roles. This type of movement would have a popular backing among the marginalized and predominantly secular youth, who are largely disgruntled and want to see progress.
Women's expectations are rising in Iraqi Kurdistan. Saddam is out, the Kurdistan Regional Government has authority and money is flowing more freely than it did during sanctions. More of it is being used to pay for private basic services, such as generators and even water. But generally women's earning and purchasing power has grown, and their expectations for better lives have as well. Even Anfal widows – who epitomize feminism by any standard – expect higher living standards.
Women are generally limited to civil servant posts that ensure they are home by mid-afternoon, and the number of women managers in the workplace is severely limited. But opportunities do exist, and the economic hardships faced by Iraqi Kurds are, in a way, empowering women because families need them as breadwinners. It is not uncommon to see a Kurdish woman in law school or studying business as women do in Baghdad. At the same time, the number of Kurdish women setting themselves on fire is reportedly at record levels. This is troubling enough in itself, but the fact that no one knows why is even more disturbing. There are no social or mental health programs for women, and little research is conducted. To be fair, these services aren't available for the general Iraqi Kurdish populous. But health services (which are run by the government) and civil society organizations are in particular failing women who are willing to end their lives. Again, women's concerns are not being seriously or thoroughly addressed.
These observations are not news to Kurdish women. Despite their legendary status, I never saw a female Iraqi Kurdish Peshmarga (although I saw one from an Iranian Kurdish leftist party.) Still, Kurdish women are the ones who speak out when an honor crime is committed; they are the ones who fight against the release of women killers; they are the ones who want more opportunities and more flexibility in their roles.
Women in countries with more services, support, opportunities and choices also fought hard to receive those benefits. Progress often took decades, and women's advocates in every country are still pushing for change. The Kurdish authorities aren't going to be the ones to further women's rights; that will be the challenge of Iraqi Kurdish women themselves. They are not shy in their demands, which give me every confidence that those demands will be met – eventually.
______________________________________________________
Tiare Rath is a freelance writer who specializes in the Middle East.