Feminism could rise again if we remember

Suraya #5

Suraya’s description of her work with women struck close to home. In the 1970s, I was part of a group of women who started the Women’s Center in Stockton, California. Those of us known as the “founding mothers” were struggling with how to make a difference in our community, how to develop our own professional lives, and how to care for our children. Our struggles paled, however, in the face of the struggles of other women in our community who had been raped and had no protection.

The Stockton Women’s Center began the first rape crisis center in the area. The common belief in the United States at that time was not much different from what people believed in Afghanistan. Rape was the fault of the victim—“she probably asked for it.” Women who were raped were interrogated and humiliated by the police. The legal system was ineffective in prosecuting rapists, many of whom were not charged, and most of those who were charged were acquitted or got off with light sentences.

The Stockton Rape Crisis Center managed to develop a relationship with the police, to train them in interviewing women respectfully and in collecting evidence that made it more likely that rapists would be prosecuted and convicted. The situation in Kabul that Suraya described was more brutal, but in that moment I felt my own vulnerability and felt connected to all women who live in jeopardy.

If women can band together and help each other under such difficult circumstances, turning to one another in more fortunate circumstances should be easier. I worry that in the United States we have lost sight of one another as women, that the women’s movement has been co-opted by a media that once reviled it and now portrays it as having no purpose because women’s rights are already guaranteed. Many women still live in poverty, and I fear that unless we continue to speak with one voice, we will again find ourselves without the rights that we take for granted. I worry that our individual concerns and ambitions have drowned out what we know about our need for shared action.

Even today, after Suraya has removed her burka with the fall of the Taliban, she struggles to keep the fight for women alive. Foreign journalists interview her and tell their stories in the west, but these interviews hardly reverberate in Afghanistan. Her group does not have the money to continue publishing their magazine. Suraya ran as a candidate for the Loja Jirga, the new parliament in Afghanistan. According to her sister-in-law, she received a majority of votes, and yet somehow these votes were lost, and she was not seated in the parliament. Suraya continues her work.

Matter-of-factly, Suraya said that her life is still in danger every day. I asked her, if she was afraid.
“No,” she said, laughing. “For a long time after being shot, I was very ill, and then when I recovered I just went back to work. I had no time to be afraid. If I were afraid, I couldn’t stay in Kabul and continue our work.

“Once I began this work, I knew that I would have to live with danger. I accept that and somehow I believe that even with these dangers I can make it. When a person chooses her way and goes this way, then she doesn’t have to be afraid. Someone can hurt you or cause you pain, but he cannot force you to think differently. I follow what my mind tells me to do.”

Suraya’s story reminds me that, even with loss, I live with good fortune. I am free to travel, to work, and to speak my mind without fear for my life. She helps me widen my frame so that I see more clearly how the day-to-day struggles of my life, even during the most difficult times, do not compare with those of others who live in starvation and political oppression. Her story calls me to reach beyond my comfortable life to work to help others. It reminds me that it is easy to look away from others’ pain when there seems to be nothing that I can do to relieve so much misery. Like Kaethe (see her story earlier on the blog) Suraya focuses on the work of each day. She never gives up, and she keeps moving in the direction of justice. Her story compels me and hopefully you to do the same.