Khul', a newly acquired right to women, was designed to balance out men's right to unilateral divorce. But has it, asks Mariz Tadros Salwa was passionately in love with Ahmed when they first met. She did everything possible so they may be together. Her parents objected to their marriage because Ahmed, a house painter, did not have a steady job. Ahmed promised to work hard to provide for the family, and the parents reluctantly relented. Twelve years down the line, it turned out her parents were, unfortunately, right. With three extra mouths to feed and the construction market falling into recession, Ahmed was not coping well. He resented the fact that Salwa had a steady job while he remained at the mercy of a volatile labour market. Gradually, his contribution to the household budget dwindled and Salwa became the family's de facto provider. Salwa could have put up with this situation, for she understood the difficulties of the job market during a recession. What she couldn't put up with was the abuse. As Ahmed's joblessness persisted, he sulked more and became aggressive. When the verbal insults turned to beatings, Salwa decided that enough was enough. She wanted out. If she were a man, she would have needed little more than utter the word. As a woman, she had three options. One was to persuade Ahmed to divorce her. The second was to file for divorce. And the third, a recently introduced alternative, was to file for khul' (literally, extraction, for it involves the wife being extracted by third parties from the marriage). The first option would be a voluntary one, as far as Ahmed is concerned. He would be the one divorcing her, but it is customary for husbands in this position to ask the wife to forgo her rights to alimony and child support. The second option, divorce in court, would safeguard Salwa's legal rights, but it is protracted and uncertain (the court may not find Salwa's grievances worthy of ending the marriage or may take over a decade to consider the case). The third option, khul' has a bit of both. It can be achieved unilaterally, without Ahmed's consent, and speedily (at least in theory), but Salwa would be required to forgo part or all of her financial rights as a divorcee. Khul' is one of the newly gained rights for women under the new Procedural Personal Status Law, promulgated in March 2000. Khul' grants women the right to apply for a divorce without having to give reasons. Prior to the introduction of khul', women had to prove they deserved a divorce by giving, perhaps, evidence of physical abuse. Women who apply for khul' are promised a prompt divorce but on condition they relinquish some of their financial rights. Salwa decided against khul'. Although she was in financial need, it was not the financial sacrifice linked to khul' that dissuaded her. The path she opted for, that of consensual divorce, was equally penalising, at least. Salwa asked Ahmed's relatives to persuade him to divorce her. When requested by the wife, consensual divorce would involve the husband making any set of conditions he wants. This process is commonly known as ibra' (literally, absolving, for it involves the husband being absolved of financial obligations toward the wife and perhaps the children). Ahmed's conditions were that he be absolved of alimony and child support and that Salwa pays the fees of the ma'zoun (local marriage registrar). She agreed. Had Salwa filed for khul', she would not have had to forgo child support. Salwa knew that, and she had access to a lawyer who would have filed a khul' lawsuit on her behalf at affordable fees. So, why didn't she? Two among the inumerable cartoons to flood publications when the khul' issue was first raised. Left: the wife's mother advises: "He no longer deserves you. What he needs is an extraction (khul') order"; (right) "We are now in an inevitable khul' situation... you either hit the road or I will extract" (cartoons: Nagui) Two simple reasons. First, she did not want a lawsuit that would drag on. The khul' lawsuits filed over the last two years lasted longer than they were supposed to. According to the law, khul' application should not take more than six months to process. In practice, many lawsuits are in their second year and not even close to a verdict. Second, the process is associated with a certain stigma for the husbands, and perhaps even the wives. A husband who becomes makhlu' (extracted), would be a sure target for mockery by his peers, and the wife could be placed in an embarrassing situation as a result. The legal impediments to acquiring khul' are considerable. Before the law was passed, conservatives, and not just the religious strain, waged a fierce campaign against it, arguing that it would undermine the foundations of the family. In order to appease the opposition, legislators introduced an article stipulating that the spouses should endure two compulsory sessions of mediation prior to the verdict, in an attempt to save the marriage. Once the law was passed, the press predicted that between 1.5 and two million women would apply for khul'. These predictions were not fulfiled. A conference held last week by the Centre for Egyptian Women's Legal Assistance (CEWLA) told a very different story. The conference reviewed the findings of a study on khul' lawsuits filed in Cairo, Giza, Fayoum, Alexandria, Sohag, and Qena in 2000 and 2001. In Cairo, 2,695 khul' lawsuits were filed between 1 March 2000 and 31 March 2001, and 2,740 were filed between 1 April 2001 and 31 March 2002. Of the 2,695 lawsuits filed up to March 2001, only 122 lawsuits (4.5 per cent) received a verdict. In Giza, 1,199 lawsuits were filed in the first year of the law's implementation and only 73 got a verdict. In the second year, 1,160 lawsuits were filed. In Alexandria, 907 lawsuits were filed in the first year, with 28 cases (3.1 per cent) receiving a verdict. In the second year, 896 lawsuits were filed. In Fayoum, 131 lawsuits were filed in the first year, with two (1.5 per cent) verdicts reached. In the second year, 80 lawsuits were filed. In Sohag, 186 lawsuits were filed in the first year, with five (2.3 per cent) receiving a verdict. In the second year, 159 were filed. In Qena, 205 lawsuits materialised in the first year, and none received a verdict. In the second year, 208 lawsuits were filed. Researchers who examined 62 khul' cases from across the country say that most were prompted by conditions of physical abuse, abandonment, and bigamy. Although women are entitled to file for divorce without having to forgo any of their financial rights (given they can establish a case for physical abuse), some switched their lawsuits to khul' in order to avoid the lengthy legal procedure. Courts may take up to 15 years examining divorce applications by women. Khul' has not, however, outstripped divorce in court as the favourable recourse of distressed wives. Earlier predictions that hundreds of thousands of women who filed for divorce would switch to khul' did not materialise, says CEWLA Director Azza Soleiman. Divorce applications are still higher than those for khul' in all the areas examined so far. Research also indicates that more than half the women who applied for khul' in the first year of the law's implementation took more than eight months to receive a verdict. CEWLA lawyer Hala Salah says the delay in verdicts on khul' cases is linked to the lack of an executive memorandum, the legal document providing guidance on the implementation's own interpretation of the law, which may or may not be conservative. As prominent lawyer Tahany El-Gebaly points out, every court applies the law as it wishes, with some judges being very resistant to the law's spirit. The absence of an executive memorandum discourages lawyers from pressing for a speedy verdict, for there is no firm legal basis on which to hold the judges accountable. "At the end of the day, the state issued a law, with a lot of propaganda about how it would relieve women from their suffering, but it ended up making it so difficult to implement," remarked Hala Salah. Patriarchal values do not hinder the law through jurisdictional processes alone. The reason less disaffected wives resorted to khul' than expected is linked to established societal norms. Mohamed Fahmy works in community development in Sohag and has attended the CEWLA conference. His comment was, "90 per cent of Egyptian families are very stable and happy. In Upper Egypt, when a dispute arises between husband and wife, they resolve it on their own or they call for the mediation of parents. So why the bleak picture of women suffering?" Fahmy is not the only one displeased with the idea of khul'. Another speaker at the same conference said that activists were "inciting women to rebel against their husbands" and "NGOs are trying to apply a Western agenda that runs counter to our Personal Status Law, our Shari'a and our values." It is better for us, he said, to worry about the nine million unmarried men and women who are past the age of 35 and half the population who suffer from illiteracy. Hoda Zakariya, professor of sociology at Ain Shams University, says that social values are the biggest obstacle facing reform advocates. She recalls the debate of the draft law at the People's Assembly two years ago. In that debate, women seeking khul' were often described as fiendish, lewd, and unstable. Little wonder that Salwa was scared of communal disapproval. "Horrible woman, how could she do that to the father of her children? She probably divorced him because she had her eyes set on another man. She tore him away from his children," is the kind of comment the neighbours may be tempted to make. With such expectations in mind, women are understandably cautious. Next month, the Supreme Constitutional Court is expected to rule on the constitutionality of the law. A lawsuit has claimed that the law violates Islamic jurisdictional norms, or Shari'a, a primary source of Egyptian legislation. If the court concurs, women in this country will be left with only two ways to get out of bad marriages, not three.
