The Things They Do in the Name of Male Guardianship

By Mody Al-Khalaf

RIYADH, Saudi Arabia - Standing in line at the airport as we wait to leave the country, I watch as the officer in charge of stamping passports argues with the family in front of me. An elderly woman in a wheelchair is trying to convince the man: “But officer, this man here is my son.” The officer shakes his head and says: “But he is not your legal guardian. Your legal guardian is your other son. I cannot let you go without written permission from him.” The woman’s son pleads with the officer, asking him not to put the old lady through the trouble of going home, making new plans and returning another day. The children who are with them begin groaning loudly at the idea of having to postpone their trip.

I glance quickly at my own papers, making sure I have everything required: Passport, written permission from my male guardian plus authenticated copies of various other documents. I glance sideways at my brother who is with me; he is fidgeting with his mobile, waiting impatiently for the line to move. He does not have the same worries and concerns I do. A million thoughts race through my head. I look at the old woman’s shaking hands and ask myself how anyone could possibly defend what is taking place right in front of me. How can a grown woman with her son be prevented from leaving the country because she doesn’t have permission from her other son who is her legal guardian?

Even those who claim that Shariah is our guide are blinded by false beliefs. Who says that a woman with a mahram (a legal male guardian) cannot travel whenever she pleases, wherever she pleases? Requiring permission from a legal guardian is not Islamic law. It is Saudi law.

I marvel at how our system can be so “efficient” in some ways and so completely inept in others. Even more amazing is the fact that we give ourselves the right to pick and choose which laws to implement and which ones to follow in theory only. It is as if we had a magic marker to highlight certain laws that must never be tampered with. When Islam says that a woman cannot travel without a mahram, for example, we add that she must have written permission from her male guardian and we make sure that rule is never violated, even if the woman is a Saudi representative to the United Nations. (Yes, it happened to Madame Thoraya Obaid.)

When Islam directs a man to be a woman’s guardian, we devise a system in which a woman becomes totally incompetent and incapable without a man. Every single one of our government institutions work hand in hand to make sure that a woman needs a man at all times — for virtually everything. Moreover, a man has total control over any woman for whom he is guardian. He can force government institutions to fire her from her job, he can divorce and remarry without her knowledge or consent; he can use her name, without her knowledge, to buy and sell stocks; he can even lend her name to his friend if he wants to. A man literally owns every person whose name is on his family card. That is the Saudi definition of male guardianship.

At the same time, however, when Islam makes it plain that a man is responsible for the welfare of his family, our institutions suddenly become not merely powerless but useless as well. They seem unable to enforce the idea of male responsibility to the family. A woman and her children can starve while their male guardian neglects them and no law (no actual enforced law, that is) will protect them. A woman and her children can be beaten to death and police officers will shrug helplessly, saying they cannot intervene in private family matters. Suddenly, their uniforms represent no authority. They are there only to uphold certain laws — not necessarily Islamic ones, just the ones highlighted in magic marker.

When our religion is not clear on certain issues, we take a stance or a position and vehemently defend it, to the point of declaring others un-Islamic if they do not follow what we believe is right. In our Islamic state, for instance, it seems not to matter that three of four prominent Islamic scholars point out that a woman’s hijab does not entail covering her face. Nonetheless, we insist that every woman cover her face, wear a black abaya and even direct how it should be worn. And we employ men as religious police whose job is to go after women in the street or in any public place and force them to adhere to our version of Islamic hijab. No matter if they are of a different sect or even religion.

Not only do we do go as far as that, but we turn a blind eye to the problems that arise from having concealed identities. A name on a card can be anyone’s — especially if the person is a heavily-veiled woman following Saudi directives concerning women’s dress. Saudi women’s assets and property are constantly being misused or even stolen in banks and courts by their male guardians and we do nothing about it. We will not issue compulsory ID cards for women and we provide no means of verifying that a veiled woman is in fact who she claims to be. Our efficiency fails when it comes to providing protection to women whose identities we have hidden.

In our customized Islamic state, we make our own laws and simply do not enforce those with which we happen to disagree. The best example of this is that women are prevented from driving. We conveniently overlook that there is no Islamic law stating that women may not drive. Recently we went one step further: we now forbid Saudi travel agencies from issuing international driver’s licenses to Saudi women. We did that just to make sure that Saudi women cannot legally get behind the wheel of a car anywhere in the world. We are amazingly efficient in closing loopholes when we want to close them, aren’t we?

Is it a coincidence that many of these rules and regulations pertain to women? I think not. Our state has been organized by certain mentalities in order to preserve one thing: Male dominance. If we really care about Islam, why are we less than vigilant in implementing Islamic laws which have nothing to do with women? As everyone knows, interest on loans is forbidden in Islam yet banks in Saudi Arabia — just like banks all over the world — make loans and collect interest. In addition, we are drowning in a sea of social ills: Bribery, theft of public money, abuse of servants, wasta (using influence to do everything from getting into college to escaping a legal sentence). Where are our efficient laws? Where are the religious police? Where are our consciences?

I remember a verse from the Holy Qur’an: “Then is it only a part of the Book that ye believe in; and do you reject the rest? What is the reward for those among you who behave like this but disgrace in this life? - and on the Day of Judgment they shall be consigned to the utmost grievous penalty. For God is not unmindful of what ye do.” (Baqara: 85).

Meanwhile, the line moves. The family’s gloomy faces tell me they will have to postpone their trip until their mother and grandmother get written permission from her legal male guardian. You see, our laws are 100 percent efficient when it comes to preventing a woman — even an old woman in a wheelchair — from leaving the country.

Mody Al-Khalaf is a Saudi writer based in Riyadh.

This article first appeared in the Saudi newspaper Arab News. It is re-published here with the author's permission.