Mohammed Jamjoom writes on October 25, 2013 - for CNN. A link to the story is
here, and it's pasted below.
(CNN) -- There's something extraordinary happening
in Saudi Arabia right now. I should know -- you see, I was born there,
lived there half my life, speak the language and understand the customs.
Lately, I'm both amazed at and humbled by what I'm seeing: Extremely
brave Saudi women, more driven than ever to change their society,
despite the sad fact that they still aren't allowed to drive.
And while it's true
there's no formal law that bans females from getting behind the wheel in
the ultra-conservative kingdom, it is also by no means a stretch to say
they are, indeed, prohibited from doing so. Unfortunately, that's just
the way it's always been in a society where religious edicts are often
interpreted to mean it is illegal for women to drive.
I've reported on this
subject for years and must admit, it's a personal one for me. Some of my
earliest memories entail trying to figure out why my American mother
would always drive me around Oklahoma City, where we spent our summers,
but could never take me around Jeddah, where we lived the rest of the
year.
To be honest, I only
began pondering that mystery at the age of four on the days when my
Saudi father was out of town on business, our driver was off, and I
wanted ice cream. In the U.S., it was easy for my mom and I to hop in
her car and go grab a banana split. What I wanted to know was why it was
such a big deal in Saudi Arabia. Now, as a new online campaign urging
Saudi women to defy their country's driving ban kicks into high gear, I
find myself reflecting on how much the issue has impacted my life.
Much of it goes back to
one brutally hot afternoon when I was 6 years old, living in Jeddah,
playing in the front yard -- completely startled seeing my 15-year-old
neighbor sneaking out of her house dressed like her Saudi father. She
wasn't just wearing his clothes, she'd drawn a moustache on her face and
was hoisting his car keys too.
Her mission was simple
but dangerous: Take her dad's car for a spin around the neighborhood as
he napped. In any other country, a simple act of rebellion. In Saudi
Arabia, one that can, and has, gotten women arrested.
A few days ago, as we
were filming our latest report on the women's driving campaign, I asked
prominent Saudi journalist Buthaina Al-Nasr if she'd ever done anything
similar.
Laughing at the memory,
she admitted how, once, at the age of 14, she'd borrowed her older
brother's car and taken it for a spin around the farm, far from the
traffic of the city and any of its police.
Buthaina went on,
describing how much she and her female friends longed to drive cars. She
explained how they also wanted to ride bikes, or even just simply walk
around "freely" - other activities for which Saudi women can face severe
disapproval. There was really only one solution.
"We'd dress up like men," explained Buthaina, "like boys, and we'd go around and it felt fun."
Her anecdote made me
smile even as it struck me as terribly sad. You see, "fun" is something
that many of my female Saudi relatives told me over and over again they
needed a lot more of.
It was the main reason
my neighbor took her dad's car for that joyride -- which she'd been able
to do without getting caught. To me, seeing how absolutely exhilarating
the experience had been for her, she'd become a hero. A couple of days
later, I asked her when she'd do it again. A funny look appeared on her
face.
"I don't know. I'm not
sure what the point is," she told me. "It'll just make me want to keep
driving more and more. I shouldn't want that."
It took me a long time
to finally understand. She'd had a small but wonderful taste of fun and
freedom, one she felt most Saudi women would never get. That made it
hard to deal with, harder still for her to do it again. For her, it
ended up being more bitter than sweet.
In Saudi Arabia, women
aren't simply kept from obtaining drivers' licenses. No, they must
contend with many more restrictions. The country's mandatory
guardianship system means women cannot legally be responsible for their
own affairs. As such, a growing number of voices, both male and female,
are calling for those laws to be repealed.
Author Abdullah Al-Alami, one of the most prominent Saudi men supporting the women's new driving campaign, is among them.
"There is a group of
ultraconservatives here who will try to do anything and everything to
prevent women from exercising their rights," Al-Alami told me. "Be it
driving, going to school, working, traveling for that matter, receiving
medical care. Many men that I know, we feel that it is crucial for us to
support women who do this."
During my formative
years, I was lucky -- I got to spend lots of time with very strong,
independent, assertive women. My American mother, Saudi aunts and female
cousins - they discussed women's rights all the time. I listened to
countless conversations where it was decided how it would be impossible
for Saudi Arabia to forever bar women from driving.
They said the reasons
were numerous: that it didn't make sense economically; that it was too
much of a burden on families to hire drivers; that Saudi society was
advancing.
And then there was the
horror story recounted by my aunt about the woman who lived down the
street from her -- the woman whose husband was at work, whose driver was
running an errand, whose child had been injured. There was no way for
her to get him to the hospital in time.
The laws will have to
change, they'd say. In five to 10 years, they insisted, women would, no
doubt, be allowed to drive. I first heard that refrain 33 years ago, in
1980, before my parents and I moved to Riyadh, Saudi Arabia's capital.
I've been hearing it
ever since. It wasn't until 1991 that I thought the time might have
finally come. That's when 47 women protested the prohibition by driving
through the streets of Riyadh. It was scandalous -- dozens of the women
were detained, banned from travel and suspended from their workplaces.
A second ray of hope
appeared in May 2011, when prominent women's rights activist Manal
Al-Sharif uploaded to YouTube a video of herself driving in Saudi
Arabia. As a result, she spent nine days in jail. But on June 17, dozens
of women across Saudi Arabia, emboldened and inspired by her ordeal,
went ahead, risked punishment and participated in the "Women2Drive"
campaign -- they didn't just drive around, they also filmed and uploaded
videos of themselves doing so. Still the laws did not change.
And now, the latest
iteration is at hand. The October 26 Women's Driving Campaign has so far
garnered more than 16,000 signatures on its online petition, but as it
turns out, women aren't waiting until October 26. Many have already gone
out, taken videos, posted them online. It's incredible to see.
Buthaina Al-Nasr is an
active supporter of the campaign. She lives in Lebanon now but talked to
me at length about why the Saudi government needs to finally lift the
ban -- after all, it is the last country in the world that does not
allow women to drive.
After driving her
eight-year-old son Hisham to school, she told me a bit more about how
much she'd love to be able to do the same in Saudi Arabia. She then
shared a recurring daydream she has about being able to drive a car in
her home country while wearing a dress -- not while dressed up like her
father or brother.
"It's a silly daydream," she told me, "but that's a fact. It's the reality of my society."
Then she added, "I mean the daydream of a young girl should be how to get to the moon ... Not driving a car."
