Team Infidel
Forum Spin Doctor
USA Today
October 27, 2008
Pg. 11
Although often overlooked, women's small achievements mark big progress in parliament
By Jim Michaels, USA Today
BAGHDAD — It took a lot to make the female members of Iraq's parliament finally snap.
They tolerated being cut off while speaking, or not being called on at all — or being relegated to "women's issues."
The last straw came a few weeks ago when Mahmoud al-Mashhadani, the parliament speaker, quipped that women make poor leaders because they are easily distracted by worries their husband might take a second wife.
The insult reverberated through the chamber. Nearly all the 74 women — from secular Kurds in pantsuits to fundamentalist Shiites covered head-to-toe in black — boycotted the next day's session. All work came to a standstill without a quorum.
About an hour into the boycott, the women swept back into the chamber to loud applause from the men. A chastened al-Mashhadani apologized.
"We decided to show them that without women, you cannot pass laws," says Ala Talabani, one of the women who boycotted. "We gained so much from what happened that day."
It was a small victory, but that is how female lawmakers measure progress in Iraq.
Getting little notice amid the violence of the past several years is an astounding experiment that is nearly unheard of in the Middle East — Iraq's constitution mandates that women make up 25% of the parliament. That's a higher percentage than the U.S. Congress. In Arab countries, women in parliaments average less than 10%, according to the Inter-Parliamentary Union, an international association.
Slowly, the women of Iraq's parliament are emerging as a political force. That is still jarring to some in a region where people of opposite sexes usually won't shake hands, and where it is still legal in many countries — including Iraq — for men to have more than one wife.
"Many didn't even want to show their faces at the beginning," says Hanna Edwars, an Iraqi women's rights activist, who was among those who initially lobbied for a quota for female members.
Diving into the issues
The experiment started three years ago when the Council of Representatives, the formal name for Iraq's parliament, was formed.
Edwars recalls that, back then, one female member of parliament wouldn't use a phone for religious reasons. Since then, the women have sought out classes on how to legislate offered by U.S. and Western advisers.
Now they are more active on committees, where much of the body's work is actually done. They even show up more often. Men missed 26% of the sessions in the term that ended in August, compared with 19% for women, according to the parliament's administrative office.
"When you go to committees most of the people there are women," Talabani says. "Men are mostly just sitting in front of the cameras talking about politics."
Indeed, many of the men engage in bombastic and sectarian tirades, including a recent shoving match between two lawmakers. The women tend to study the issues and dive into the minutiae of lawmaking.
Men in the parliament acknowledge that the women are quicker to put aside sectarian differences, lawmaker Hussam al-Azawi says. "Their achievements have spoken loudly," he says.
Even the public, which has grown weary of the partisan bickering, has noticed. "They care more about government services," says Ahmed Mohammed Shareef, 40, a Baghdad physician.
Despite the women's progress, the country is still run mostly by men. Leaders of most major political blocs and Cabinet ministers are men. Out of 25 permanent committees in the parliament, only two are led by women: panels on women's issues and civil society.
Female legislators say they are relegated to "soft" issues, such as family law and human rights. "Lots of people in parliament think women should only deal with women's issues," Talabani says. "I believe we are changing that."
It's a slow process. Women say they are often treated with disdain by the parliament's top leaders.
"If you raise your hand, no one will call on you," says Zakia Hakki, a member of parliament and a former judge.
Not taken seriously
Talabani says she has inserted herself in some of these larger debates.
"I was keen on discussing the election law," she says of the recently passed provincial election law. "I don't want people to think we're there only to talk about women's issues."
Another female member, Shatha al-Obosi, says she regularly shows up at committee meetings she wasn't invited to in order to broaden her influence.
The recent boycott was unusual. It was a rare moment when the women acted as a bloc, setting aside their political and religious differences. It happened after a female lawmaker alleged that female inmates in Iraqi prisons were subject to rape and other abuse. Al-Mashhadani said the human rights minister, a woman, should address the issue, then he broadly disparaged female politicians. In an interview later, al-Mashhadani said he was joking and his remarks were taken out of context by his critics.
At the outset, women were more likely to take their cues from their parties, which are nearly all run by men. Today, a number of women are emerging as influential politicians, even if they get little notice.
Al-Obosi, who wears wraparound sunglasses and a hijab, or head scarf, is an advocate for the families of detainees in Iraqi prisons or U.S. detention facilities. She recently sat with two widows who tearfully begged her to help their relatives who were sentenced to death after being convicted of murder in Iraqi courts.
One of the widows, Subiha Mohammed Hafiz, said she contacted al-Obosi after seeing her on the television news.
"She is the one who will let our voice reach the government," Hafiz says. "She is a mother. She understands the love of children."
When they finished speaking, al-Obosi promised to look into their cases and pressed a small wad of cash into their hands. Such charity is an Iraqi tradition, particularly during the holy month of Ramadan.
'We need quotas'
Iraqi women have long been in the workplace. The 1980-88 Iran-Iraq war pushed even more women into jobs to replace men serving on the front lines.
"Iraqi women were a role model for neighboring countries," says Hakki, who was Iraq's first female judge in 1959.
Female lawmakers are now worried whether upcoming provincial elections will guarantee 25% of the seats to women. A version of the law, which passed last month, says the local councils should consist of 25% women, but it doesn't specify how to accomplish that, Talabani says.
Women in the parliament say they need quotas at least until society learns to accept them in leadership roles.
"We need quotas for the next eight to 12 years," al-Obosi says.
Contributing: Ali A. Nabhan
October 27, 2008
Pg. 11
Although often overlooked, women's small achievements mark big progress in parliament
By Jim Michaels, USA Today
BAGHDAD — It took a lot to make the female members of Iraq's parliament finally snap.
They tolerated being cut off while speaking, or not being called on at all — or being relegated to "women's issues."
The last straw came a few weeks ago when Mahmoud al-Mashhadani, the parliament speaker, quipped that women make poor leaders because they are easily distracted by worries their husband might take a second wife.
The insult reverberated through the chamber. Nearly all the 74 women — from secular Kurds in pantsuits to fundamentalist Shiites covered head-to-toe in black — boycotted the next day's session. All work came to a standstill without a quorum.
About an hour into the boycott, the women swept back into the chamber to loud applause from the men. A chastened al-Mashhadani apologized.
"We decided to show them that without women, you cannot pass laws," says Ala Talabani, one of the women who boycotted. "We gained so much from what happened that day."
It was a small victory, but that is how female lawmakers measure progress in Iraq.
Getting little notice amid the violence of the past several years is an astounding experiment that is nearly unheard of in the Middle East — Iraq's constitution mandates that women make up 25% of the parliament. That's a higher percentage than the U.S. Congress. In Arab countries, women in parliaments average less than 10%, according to the Inter-Parliamentary Union, an international association.
Slowly, the women of Iraq's parliament are emerging as a political force. That is still jarring to some in a region where people of opposite sexes usually won't shake hands, and where it is still legal in many countries — including Iraq — for men to have more than one wife.
"Many didn't even want to show their faces at the beginning," says Hanna Edwars, an Iraqi women's rights activist, who was among those who initially lobbied for a quota for female members.
Diving into the issues
The experiment started three years ago when the Council of Representatives, the formal name for Iraq's parliament, was formed.
Edwars recalls that, back then, one female member of parliament wouldn't use a phone for religious reasons. Since then, the women have sought out classes on how to legislate offered by U.S. and Western advisers.
Now they are more active on committees, where much of the body's work is actually done. They even show up more often. Men missed 26% of the sessions in the term that ended in August, compared with 19% for women, according to the parliament's administrative office.
"When you go to committees most of the people there are women," Talabani says. "Men are mostly just sitting in front of the cameras talking about politics."
Indeed, many of the men engage in bombastic and sectarian tirades, including a recent shoving match between two lawmakers. The women tend to study the issues and dive into the minutiae of lawmaking.
Men in the parliament acknowledge that the women are quicker to put aside sectarian differences, lawmaker Hussam al-Azawi says. "Their achievements have spoken loudly," he says.
Even the public, which has grown weary of the partisan bickering, has noticed. "They care more about government services," says Ahmed Mohammed Shareef, 40, a Baghdad physician.
Despite the women's progress, the country is still run mostly by men. Leaders of most major political blocs and Cabinet ministers are men. Out of 25 permanent committees in the parliament, only two are led by women: panels on women's issues and civil society.
Female legislators say they are relegated to "soft" issues, such as family law and human rights. "Lots of people in parliament think women should only deal with women's issues," Talabani says. "I believe we are changing that."
It's a slow process. Women say they are often treated with disdain by the parliament's top leaders.
"If you raise your hand, no one will call on you," says Zakia Hakki, a member of parliament and a former judge.
Not taken seriously
Talabani says she has inserted herself in some of these larger debates.
"I was keen on discussing the election law," she says of the recently passed provincial election law. "I don't want people to think we're there only to talk about women's issues."
Another female member, Shatha al-Obosi, says she regularly shows up at committee meetings she wasn't invited to in order to broaden her influence.
The recent boycott was unusual. It was a rare moment when the women acted as a bloc, setting aside their political and religious differences. It happened after a female lawmaker alleged that female inmates in Iraqi prisons were subject to rape and other abuse. Al-Mashhadani said the human rights minister, a woman, should address the issue, then he broadly disparaged female politicians. In an interview later, al-Mashhadani said he was joking and his remarks were taken out of context by his critics.
At the outset, women were more likely to take their cues from their parties, which are nearly all run by men. Today, a number of women are emerging as influential politicians, even if they get little notice.
Al-Obosi, who wears wraparound sunglasses and a hijab, or head scarf, is an advocate for the families of detainees in Iraqi prisons or U.S. detention facilities. She recently sat with two widows who tearfully begged her to help their relatives who were sentenced to death after being convicted of murder in Iraqi courts.
One of the widows, Subiha Mohammed Hafiz, said she contacted al-Obosi after seeing her on the television news.
"She is the one who will let our voice reach the government," Hafiz says. "She is a mother. She understands the love of children."
When they finished speaking, al-Obosi promised to look into their cases and pressed a small wad of cash into their hands. Such charity is an Iraqi tradition, particularly during the holy month of Ramadan.
'We need quotas'
Iraqi women have long been in the workplace. The 1980-88 Iran-Iraq war pushed even more women into jobs to replace men serving on the front lines.
"Iraqi women were a role model for neighboring countries," says Hakki, who was Iraq's first female judge in 1959.
Female lawmakers are now worried whether upcoming provincial elections will guarantee 25% of the seats to women. A version of the law, which passed last month, says the local councils should consist of 25% women, but it doesn't specify how to accomplish that, Talabani says.
Women in the parliament say they need quotas at least until society learns to accept them in leadership roles.
"We need quotas for the next eight to 12 years," al-Obosi says.
Contributing: Ali A. Nabhan