America’s cultural tradition has come to include the concept that all people deserve equal rights. However, women in many nations (including the United States) are subject to injustices that range from lower wages to spousal abuse, rape, lashing, and stoning. Understandably, among many Americans there is an outcry to intervene in the most extreme cases, and awareness-raising techniques ranging from TV shows and magazine articles to e-mail campaigns have brought some cases to the forefront of our consciousness.
A problem arises, however, when we fail to understand the cultures in which many brutalities take place, and we verge on cultural imperialism when we insist on implementing our beliefs on people who, in many cases, are acting in accordance with the laws of their god. Perhaps better than imposing of our laws on people who would rightfully resent such subjugation, humanity would be better served with a general agreement that such actions are inherently wrong.
This type of concurrence could be reached through an open dialogue, and the first step toward this end is for westerners to understand some of the traditions, laws, and dogma that provoke people to act in ways that we deem abhorrent. Armed with this understanding, we could earn the respect (and trust) of people who in many cases are leery of our motivations, and explain the benefits of religious and governmental moderation.
Of course, a problem with this method is the time that it would take to implement and the lives that are at stake right now – a recent NY Times Magazine article mentions that 300 women a year are murdered by family members in so-called honor killings.) Another problem is the vastness of the task; there are a lot of different cultures and a lot of injustices. Which ones do we focus on and why?
Since America has embarked upon the “War on Terror,” a brighter light has been shone on the treatment of women in Muslim nations. The image of oppressed women in Afghanistan who were excluded from western-style education and forced to wear burkas was shocking to Americans. In fact, (if you remember your ancient history) the liberation of Afghani women became a secondary rallying cry for the Bush administration’s war rhetoric.
However, the fact that to many Afghani women, the Taliban was a welcome change from years of lawlessness and civil war was excluded from the dialogue. We, through our cultural vantage point, wrongly assumed that no woman would voluntarily submit to practices that we deem sexist.
An important point to remember is that our understanding of acceptable behavior toward women was born out of a greater American cultural revolution that was not part of the political or cultural landscape of most nations. Therefore, to assume that our views are applicable to all women of all cultures is not only incorrect, but also ethnocentric.
The uncomfortable reality may be that our laws and cultural expectations are not suitable for people who have realities that diverge so completely from our own.
American concern for women in Muslim nations also turned its gaze to Nigeria, which is one of a few countries to have full Shariah (or Muslim law) in place. Shariah, as defined by Susie Steiner of The Guardian, is “a religious code for living, in the same way that the Bible offers a moral system for Christians.” The difference however, is that America, for example, which bases its moral codes largely on the Judeo-Christian ethic, does not hold its citizens legally accountable for abiding by all ten Commandments. Conversely, under Nigerian law adultery is a crime punishable by death.
One of the West’s best examples of self-rightousness is that we assume that the people of a nation like Nigeria would be spared such brutal treatment if only they lived in a democracy. Among the problems with this logic is, of course, that Nigeria is democratic; the people voted Shariah into place. So, how do we prevent the people of Nigeria from abiding by the laws of their god and government? We can’t.
Or can we? (Is that Oprah I see on the horizon?)
Amina Lawal, a Nigerian woman, who was the subject of an episode of Big O’s show, was convicted of adultery, and sentenced to death by stoning. However, the program on Amina’s plight generated an international e-mailing frenzy that ultimately led to her salvation.
Oprah’s concern for the health of women throughout the world is understandable. However, when she aired a program about four American women who were murdered by their husbands at a U.S. military base, she did not ask for the same type of grass-roots support for changing American laws or for intervening with the culture of American marriages. Perhaps this is because we live in a culture that asks us to divert our eyes from things that we consider to be other people’s business, and domestic matters clearly fall under this category.
Indeed, violence against women in America is epidemic. In fact, our culture of violence toward women is shameful compared to most Muslim nations. So why are the rights of women in other societies a “human rights issue” and the rights of battered American women not? Perhaps because we assume that American women have the resources to acquire help. Concurrently, we assume that women of other cultures do not have adequate support systems in place. Therefore, we believe that it is our role to implement the support for women around the world that may otherwise be left in a lurch.
But obviously, the American system of protecting women is not as encompassing as we like to think. We ask for the government to protect us from “evils” ranging from aggressive pan-handlers to illegal immigrants, but we insist that they stay out of our personal affairs.
Because of our disparity in views toward violence in reference to American
and non-American women, there is an ease at which we write e-mails in response to “human rights” violations on the other side of the globe. The weight of a pen, however, seems unbearable when writing in reflection of our own communities.
Though the task of changing the cultures of foreign nations is daunting, it is perhaps less daunting than changing our own. Especially since we live in a culture that does not permit us to take responsibility for our neighbor’s actions. So please, the next time you hear a woman screaming next door, just turn up the TV, and be rest assured that we U.S. Americans are much kinder and gentler than those crazed, brown Muslims in that weird county over there.
Scott,
I’m confused. On what basis do you suggest that “our culture of violence toward women is shameful compared to most Muslim nations?”
To make this suggestion, you have to understand (or better, have empirical evidence of) the nature and severity of abuse in both places. In addition, you have to compare the laws and punishment executed in both places and the rights of women who attempt to leave the bad situations.
As far as I understand, abuse on women here in America is very, very bad. But women do have support systems and legal rights that women in many Muslim nations do not. Divorce, for example. is a major legal advantage we have.
I think your major point here is that we, here in America, should be more aware of the abuses existing right here and we should be working to eliminate those. I absolutely agree.
But, the abuses in other places are egregious as well. What’s the point of suggesting that ours are worse than theirs?
MF, thank your for such a thoughtful comment. You raise an important point. Admittedly, I was popping off, but I found some evidence in regards of my statement. Here’s the research I gathered for violence toward women in America:
– One to three million incidents of domestic abuse toward women are reported;
– Approximately 31% of American women report physical or sexual abuse by a past or present partner;
– Approximately 25% report being raped;
– 170,000 are annually hospitalized for their injuries;
– Homicide is the leading cause of death among recently impregnated women;
– 1,232 women are killed a year by a past or present partner;
– 21% of American women report being raped by a past or present partner;
– 503,485 women annually report being stalked by an intimate partner;
– Of those, 80% are assaulted – 20% sexually;
– Domestic violence in the leading cause of injury to women.
Financial cost to female victims of violence:
– $5.8 billion is spent of health related costs to female victims of violence;
– $1.8 billion in lost productivity and earnings;
– Collectively, 8 million work days are lost per year;
– Homicide is the leading cause of death for women in the workplace;
Battered women in the workplace:
– 96% experience problems at work;
– 74% are harassed at work by abuser;
– 56% are late to work;
– 28% leave work early;
– 54% miss entire days of work due to abuse.
These sources come form a combination of endabuse.org and American Institute on Domestic Violence.
A cursory search for similar numbers didn’t yield the same level of data. An interesting number I found is that the 1 in 5 rape number is world wide. I’m not sure what this says about the U.S. – perhaps that since we are a liberal democracy, one might expect our stat to be a little lower?
A number I found on Amnesty’s website to support your claim is that 35.6% of women in Turkey experience marital rape. This is higher than the 21% of American women.
As for divorce, you make a really good point here, and for me this is the double edged crux of what I’m getting at. Divorce can be seen as a way for women to escape abusive relationships, and that’s obviously a good thing. However, if you’ve ever been in an abusive relationship, you may know that the emotion components of many abuse cases prevent women from leaving relationships. And the fact that the legal mechanism exists is why I’m suggesting that Americans don’t feel responsible for taking action when it comes to violence against our own sisters. Many tend to watch news stories of battered women and say “if that was me, I’d be so outta there.” The problem, of course, is the cycle of dependence that goes along with most domestic abuse – not to mention the financial dependence many women have for their abusers.
I did find a W. Wilson Center report that suggests that Egypt and Pakistan have somewhat progressive divorce laws.
My over reaching point is that we would be better served looking at our culture and asking the same type of questions we ask regarding others. Another important point that I tried (perhaps unsuccessfully) to make with this post is that violence toward women is universal, and that we might look at why that is, and ask what the world-wide cultural are that lead to this fact.
I hope I answered some of your questions.
Not wanting to get caught up patting ourselves on the back that violence against people is bad (though male suffering may not warrant the same ratings on Oprah) I do wonder how the cultural relativism argument works here. Isn’t there a tension between not imposing our culture/laws/values on others and coming to an agreement that certain actions are inherently wrong? What exactly are “the benefits of governmental and religious moderation” and who gets to decide in what ways they should be so moderated?
Wow Scott. It is really inspiring to see you putting so much energy into how women are treated, here and globally. It takes all kinds of folks to address these issues, but it’s pretty cool to have such progressive ideas coming from unlikely sources (i.e. men, who typically a larger amount of power and may benefit from the status quo) and help launch us into conversations around how to improve the lives of women. Thanks for this post.
I kind of hate discussions like this, but I must point out there’s a difference between (1) focusing on problems at home because you understand them better and can more readily solve them and (2) not doing or saying anything about what happens to ordinary people in other countries because our standards can’t apply over there. I can’t quite figure out which one you’d like us to do, Scott. But a line like
strikes me as way too far on the side of (2).
Could it be possible that our understanding of behavior toward women was born out of a greater American cultural revolution that was not part of the political or cultural landscape of most nations, and that significant elements of this understanding of proper behavior are big improvements over some counterpart morals and mores in Afghanistan or Syria or wherever?
And what’s with putting human rights in scare quotes? Does the fact that this idea has sometimes (often?) been the pretext for cultural imperialism invalidate it entirely? What do you say to Amartya Sen and others who argue that the West does not have a monopoly on human rights and democratic ideals?
The bottom line for me is that I simply cannot say that it’s okay for some guy in Syria to kill his sister because she was kidnapped and raped at the age of 15 and somehow brought dishonor on the men of her family. That’s bullshit. I understand that it doesn’t do any good for me to go protest in the streets about honor killings that happen halfway around the world and that it’s counterproductive for the U.S. government to get involved in the issue. (Hard to stand for human rights when you’re busy running an empire.) But the Times article was quite clear about these issues and talked about the local Syrian opposition to honor killings, couched in terms of Islam — including the opposition of the murdered girl’s widower.
It seems to me that what makes this discussion difficult is that people have difficulty decising what is intrinsically right and wrong with respect to human rights. At the extremes (brutalize and kill for minor infractions versus love and support) there is wider agreement. But there is a lot of grey matter in between. Is it wrong to punish women for dressing a certain way? What kinds of punishments are reasonable for sexual infractions? Should the same standards be applied to both men and women?
The problem I have is that in trying to avoid ethnocentrism, many err on the side of letting people do as their culture dictates. And many suffer.
Which leads me to my conclusion that suffering is the key to determining what is right versus wrong.
But even so., even if it is possible to detemrine intrinsic human rights, expanding the enjoyment of them is a really tough problem.
Dave, to clarify, my post is not really a policy piece as much as it is a meditation on the influences that color the way we understand things as basic as violence toward women. I don’t think my point is that we should do nothing about “human rights” (notice the quotes) issues as much as it is about why certain issues qualify as “human rights” issues and others don’t.
Could it be possible that our understanding of behavior toward women was born out of a greater American cultural revolution that was not part of the political or cultural landscape of most nations, and that significant elements of this understanding of proper behavior are big improvements over some counterpart morals and mores in Afghanistan or Syria or wherever?
Absolutely.
What do you say to Amartya Sen and others who argue that the West does not have a monopoly on human rights and democratic ideals?
I would say that the West does not have a monopoly of human rights issues, but it does on democratic ideals.
The bottom line for me is that I simply cannot say that it’s okay for some guy in Syria to kill his sister because she was kidnapped and raped at the age of 15 and somehow brought dishonor on the men of her family. That’s bullshit.
I’m incomplete agreement with you on this point.
MF, I think you make an excellent point. You seem to reel it all in through your last comment.
After all this debating hullaballo (which is one reason I read this site– to keep my mind sharp), I need to thank you, Scotty, for this post for much simpler reasons.
I’m glad you gave me all the background info: what’s happened in Afghanistan, the general state of women in Nigeria, and a general comparision of the state of women worldwide: US compared, generally, to the rest of the world. I’m guilty of not keeping up with the news. I intentionally keep myself in my own bright corner of the world because I don’t like looking at violent images or hearing about the fatality rate of the current war. It’s a guilt that as a responsible adult, I should rectify.
But at the simplest level, I’m glad for this post because it makes me feel thankful for my own loving husband. My dad called once, once I’d been married for a few months, and wanted to conduct another father-daughter interview. He initiates these every once in awhile just to check up on my well-being socailly, emotionally, economically, spiritually, etc. He feels responsible.
So he asks me, after making sure I’m not broke and not sleep-deprived and such: “And your marriage is doing all right?”
“Yeah, dad. We’re still madly in love.”
“And he’s not… beating you or anything?”
This shocked me, naturally, and I answered in the negative to reassure him that no, dad, he’s not abusive.
We joke about this comment often, the hubby and I. We throw socks at each other and and shout, “I’ve socked you! I’m being abusive!” But honestly, I’m thankful that I can joke about it.
Fair enough, Scotty. Sorry if I misconstrued. I consider violence against women a human rights issue in the U.S. and abroad, but maybe Oprah’s viewers don’t.
(It’s hilarious and sad to see people freak out when Human Rights Watch or Amnesty issues a report on human rights abuses in the U.S., for example in prisons or by police.)
Here’s a short piece by Amartya Sen arguing that democracy has roots in many cultures; I’ve seen him treat the topic at greater length but can’t put my finger on the citation just now.
I agree with Dave and a great post today