Saudi women making strides

JIDDAH, Saudi Arabia -- When Saudi Arabia began issuing ID cards to women last November, the hard-liners were quick to object.

Women with picture IDs showing their faces unveiled? And what if someone superimposed copies of the photos on nude bodies and circulated them as pornography?

"Whoever gets a card for his women will be acting like a pimp," said a leaflet issued by the fundamentalists.

Nonetheless, less than six months later thousands of Saudi women are carrying their own IDs, rather than be listed by name on a husband's or father's card. It's an achievement that underlines the strides women in the devoutly Muslim kingdom have made, as well as the distance they still have to go.

In its 2001 annual report, Amnesty International said that despite Saudi Arabia's accession to the U.N. Women's Convention, discrimination persisted. It cited "limitations of freedom of movement, allowing for effective imprisonment within the home and preventing recourse to protection or redress from human rights abuses."

The restrictions are defended by many Saudis as necessary to prevent women from slipping into permissive Western ways. And in this complex society, such attitudes aren't a function of age, wealth or a Western education.

Reforms in conflict

Even among some affluent, educated Saudi women, reports such as Amnesty's arouse anger. They say the West pronounces judgment with total disregard for local traditions and values and promotes reforms that conflict with the women's Islamic upbringing and conservative environment.

They point out that education was allowed for women only 40 years ago, and since then they have gone from almost zero literacy to equal enrollment in schools and universities.

"No one has given credit to Saudi Arabia for that," said Princess Fahda, daughter of the late King Saud and head of a women's welfare charity. "They tell us you're backward, but they don't see what's behind the abaya" -- the shapeless black cloak women must wear in public.

"I don't want the Americans to come and make demands on our behalf," she added. "Leave us alone to solve our own problems."

Others, however, agree with Amnesty's assessment, saying they feel discriminated against, especially in job opportunities and the almost exclusively male business world.

Those women who dare to expose their eyes or face in public risk being harassed by the powerful religious police.

Women cannot travel, get an education or a job, or check into a hotel alone without written approval from a male guardian. Women cannot drive.

Saudi women who work -- less than 10 percent do -- are encouraged to enter fields such as teaching at girls' schools to avoid mixing with male employees or customers. In college they cannot major in engineering, archaeology or law -- jobs that would get them out in the field or in contact with men -- although recently many are specializing in finance, public relations or management.

There are women-only clubs where females can shed the abaya. The clubs offer restaurants, boutiques, health clubs, computer and language classes, Internet cafes and beauty salons. They usually have a swimming pool, but women must where a one-piece swimsuit plus knee-length shorts.

Black gauze

But outside home or the clubs, much of a Saudi woman's surroundings is filtered through the monochromatic black gauze of the veil.

One element holding back bigger reforms is the religious establishment. The government bases its legitimacy on a rigorously conservative form of Islam and is careful not to upset this establishment.

When the Interior Ministry announced in November 1999 that preparations were under way to issue ID cards to women -- and only to those who asked for them -- delegations of conservatives visited Crown Prince Abdullah to protest. It took two years for the ministry to issue the cards, and a woman still needs her male guardian's approval to get one.

Women need the ID cards chiefly for banking transactions, to prove property ownserhip and to protect themselves against fraud.

The ID card revolution was preceded by other advances that have allowed women to venture slowly into male domains.

Ten years ago, on her first day as a part-time consultant at Jiddah's Chamber of Commerce, Nadia Baeshen was shocked when an elevator full of men emptied the moment she stepped in.

"They'd never seen a woman in the building before," recalled Baeshen, a graduate of the University of Arizona.

But within less than a year the men not only were getting in the elevator with her, they would shout to her to hold the door for them.

Today, dozens of Saudi women are learning accounting and management skills at the women's training center Baeshen helped set up in the chamber.

Opening doors

Samar Fatany, a radio journalist, insists Saudi women are not oppressed.

"Yes, we want reforms and there are a lot of shortcomings," she said. "But if a woman is qualified enough she will open doors."

Women now find the state-controlled press more open to airing their grievances.

For instance, in an open letter to Crown Prince Abdullah published March 29, respected writer Nourah Abdul Aziz al-Khreiji spoke about the trouble she had getting a new electronic chip to widen the reach of her mobile phone.

The staff at Saudi Telecom Co. insisted she produce a male guardian as guarantor, fearing that if she didn't pay her bills, its male staff would have difficulty confronting her.

"Why are Saudi women treated so unfairly ...?" wrote al-Khreiji in the English-language Arab News daily.

"I hope that you will find it possible to direct those who suppress women in the name of the law to establish procedures which deal with both sexes on an equal basis," she said.

Women also want a say in decision-making. There are no female government ministers and no women on the appointed consultative Shura Council, although women have been invited by council committees to discuss women's issues.

More private companies are seeking female employees, but it's costly. They must furnish segregated work spaces as well as special equipment for the women to communicate with male colleagues from a distance.

Women who own their own store or company must deputize a male "agent" to take care of government transactions.

Some women, who spoke on condition of anonymity for fear of reprisal, said the biggest humiliation is not the abaya or the driving ban but the muttawa, or religious police, who enforce the rules.

They say the police make them feel like objects incapable of taking care of themselves. They say a married woman and her husband both risk humiliating public scoldings for the slightest infraction, such as sitting apart at a dinner party.

Press accusations

The muttawa, government-paid agents of the Committee to Prevent Vice and Promote Virtue, were recently accused in the local press of preventing girls from fleeing a school fire in the holy city of Mecca because they were not wearing abayas. The committee as well as the Interior Ministry said the claims were false.

Although the muttawa presence on the streets has decreased over the past two years, it is still a force to contend with.

At the annual Janadriyah cultural festival, the religious police stood guard outside the entrance to the women-only events. They yelled at a non-Saudi reporter whose head was uncovered and only allowed her in after she promised to cover up. They patrolled in cars, winding down their windows to shout: "Cover your eyes" and "Adjust your veils."

Huge banners reminded the women that the abaya should not be transparent or ornamented and that the veil should cover the head and face. Stores carrying unapproved types of abaya are reported to the Commerce Ministry, which confiscates them.

Still, despite all the restrictions, most Saudi women return home after getting an overseas education.

"I chose to come back," said Baeshen. "This is not a static society. Change will come, but according to my pace. American women took their sweet time. Let me take mine."