By Salama A Salama The image of the two niqab - wearing young women who took part in the double suicide operation in Cairo's crowded streets is etched on my mind. The drama began in Tahrir Square, where a young man threw himself off the Sixth of October Bridge detonating a bomb that severed his head from his body and wounded a number of tourists and passers-by. Following the first operation a second was undertaken in Al- Sayida Aisha where the young man's sister and his fiancée opened fire on a tourist bus. Both women were killed by bullets from an as yet unidentified source. I do not want to believe that the women -- in an operation precisely coordinated with that of the Tahrir Square bomber -- shot each other in a suicide pact sealed when news of his death reached them. Such pacts stem from deep despair and a profound longing for death, coupled with belief in a sacred cause. Those who commit such acts need the rigid discipline and precision that stems from an unshakeable resolve, the kind of self-belief that lay behind the actions of the Japanese kamikaze pilots. And if that was the case, then how terrifying our future. How frightening that the desire for self- annihilation amongst young people could have reached a point where two young women consider death preferable to life, and for what? The reason this incident frightens so is because it is the first time in Egypt that women have participated in such an attack, the first time that members of a single family, trained well in advance, have perpetrated such an outrage, despite intensified security precautions and the pursuit of those participants in the Al-Azhar bombing who remain at large. Women have taken part in suicide operations of this nature abroad, in Palestine and Iraq, for example, against a rapacious enemy and fuelled by their own feelings of injustice, humiliation and loss. Yet in Egypt such operations have, in the past, been carried out by men, and they have been mostly young. The woman's part in all this, whether mother, wife or sister, was to live with the consequences of a crime which society condemns, and which severely impacts on the future of the family. Women are burdened by many of the problems society faces. They are expected to be a source of stability and strength within their families. If a man fails to find work or circumstances prevent him from providing for his family they must step in. If the father emigrates, to work abroad, then it is the mother who is left to raise the children. If the children then become delinquents, if they turn to drugs or crime or terrorism, it is the mother who is blamed. It is a situation that has produced a new generation of women that, if not necessarily stronger and tougher, are certainly more conservative and reactionary. The move by a large number of young women to conceal themselves behind the hijab and niqab has been followed by the embrace of extremist ideas and, now, the adoption of radical patterns of behaviour. It is an approach to daily life that demands double standards, for far from relying on a true understanding of religion it is based on imitation, conformity, a fear of facing the complexities of modern life. These women feel ill- equipped to shoulder the responsibilities and challenges of this new world. For the great majority of them Amr Khaled, or one of the born- again actresses, are heroic figures while for a better-off minority the superstars are Amr Diab or Nancy Agram. Given the torture, abuse and mistreatment meted out to the relatives of the Al- Azhar bomber during police investigation -- the death of one in custody was announced the very morning of the two most recent attacks -- it should come as no surprise that terrorism has turned into a family affair and that two young niqab - wearing women should take part in a suicide operation that they must have known could only end in failure, having made a family agreement to escape from hell.
