Millions of women around the world have gained the right to vote, work and earn, if possible, equal pay. So what, some ask, is all the fuss about women's rights? Yasmine El-Rashidi looks at Egyptian women and where they stand Change is an inherently infinite process. It twists and turns and backtracks and slows down. And then, it seemingly blasts up the hill. The rule is without exception -- everything and everyone, every day and every minute and second of every year, is changing. We women are no exception, from our thoughts and words, outsides and insides, to the place we choose to stand in the world. As the month of March approaches each year, women around the world get passionate, energised and busy with preparations for the big day; 8 March, which is International Women's Day. We hold banquets, workshops and forums, and we give out flowers and banners promoting our own day. This year the United Nations observed the day with a conference on gender equality and development. In Australia, the festivities took to the streets, and in Great Britain, South Africa, Scotland, and in even the tiniest state of the United States, the day was widely celebrated. To millions of Egyptian women, though, 8 March means little. Like many other Western 'international days', it is seen as yet another time to celebrate and spend, two pastimes that women in the Third World can neither afford nor justify. This year, however, provoked more people to think. In 1924, feminist Hoda Sha'rawi and a following of women marched unveiled along downtown Cairo's Qasr Al-Aini Street past the American University in Cairo and protested at the doors of the newly-inaugurated parliament. Their march was a protest for greater rights for women. Last Saturday, 8 March, women in Cairo made a similar stand. The difference this time was that they were no longer protesting for themselves, but rather, were using their voices for the rights of others. "Please join 'Women Against the War' on International Women's Day," the e-mail circulating Cairo read. "We will be holding a silent vigil from 1-3pm outside the Arab League Building, Tahrir Square. We shall be wearing black and also kufiyyas, and we will be holding banners reading: WOMEN SAY NO TO THE INVASION OF IRAQ AND NO TO THE OCCUPATION OF PALESTINE. Meeting point: Foyer of the Nile Hilton Hotel, 12:45pm prompt. We hope you will be able to join us." In many ways, this week's silent protest was strikingly timely. These women -- some of whom witnessed Sha'rawi and her striding sisters -- are symbolic of the changed face of feminism. In a country in which both men and women struggle to make money to survive and support their families, women like these -- who are privileged in their social status and what it brings -- have embraced their voices and rights to increase the opportunities available to lower-class women through grass-roots work such as micro-lending projects and awareness-building. But the change does not end there. It is also evident from the top down. Women now have the right to file for divorce (khul'). They hold more decision-making political posts, more prominent roles in the labour market, and now, for the first time in the history of the nation and the world, Egyptian women have climbed the legal ranks. Two years ago, Suzanne Mubarak celebrated the official start of a National Council for Women (NCW), announcing that it was "high time that Egyptian women shared in the country's decision making". This past January, Egypt witnessed the unprecedented appointment of a female judge, Tahany El-Gebali. "Women have better access to education. Political participation is a little bit more open for them. They have access to new posts," Farida Naccache, chairperson of the Cairo-based Women's Development Association's Forum, told the press. The change is not only occurring in Egypt but is spreading across the Middle East. In November, Qatar named a woman as vice president of the Supreme Council for Family Affairs, accompanied by the rank of minister. Oman, too, has taken such strides, appointing last month a woman as head of the Public Authority for Handicraft Manufacturers, also with the rank of minister. The change is evident in the status of women in business and politics. But there is still something strikingly absent from the public podium. While Egypt may see Mervat El-Tellawis (NWC's secretary-general), and Nadia Makram Ebeids (former minister of environment), we have not in thousands of years been able to revive the character, clout and country-captivating charisma and prowess of women such as Cleopatra, Nefertiti and Hatshepsut. We now work, vote and speak our minds to a much greater degree. But when it comes to capturing the intellectual attention of a nation, especially that comprised of men, we fail. "I see it as a cultural thing," says Dina El-Tabei, a single mother of two. "It's not even religious. Because if it were religious, then why would Coptic Egyptian women face similar struggles as Muslims?" She draws the parallel with the general assumption that burying people in tombs is a religious practice, although it is actually Pharaonic. "And now it's become Egyptian. All other Muslim countries bury in a grave in the ground. When King Hussein of Jordan died, he was buried in a grave in the ground. We're the only one's that aren't. The lines are very intertwined," she explains. So, too, are those within the sphere that comprises 'women'. As a nation segregated by the layers that make up the social strata, 'we' often generalise and group together, failing to address the layers that make up any categorised segment of the population. Those labeled 'women', of course, are no exception. "Women now may have the choice to go out and march, but do you think all of their male counterparts would let them go out?" El- Tabei asks. "Hosni Mubarak may let them go out, but it's their husbands and brothers and fathers that won't. The government gives more power to women than the culture." And that is where the feminist movement in Egypt reaches a halt. No longer is it about wearing a suit or protesting by burning a bra. No longer does marching for the right to work have as great a meaning or create as striking a stand. It is more often about acknowledging that one's voice, thoughts and desires are worth something, too. And while even amongst the so-called lower class a stumbling economy has made working women the social norm, the practice of verbalising one's thoughts is not. "My husband won't" or "my brother won't let me" are phrases littering conversations around the country. It will take work, time and turmoil to change a culture that is dominated by men. And for now, it is not about the acting, speaking or even writing out of thoughts and desires, but rather, of acknowledging, embracing and giving worth to what is within. For when the value of invaluable is reached, those slow but steady drops will form a puddle, and then a pool, and the silent march will one day take on a transformation of its own. Women's Day is embraced around the world as a time to celebrate the achievements of the women who fought for suffrage, equal pay, equal opportunity and the changes that must be achieved in the future. In countries such as Egypt, it should be promoted as one day in the year in which women are encouraged to give themselves voice and value and adopt, for 24 hours, the present-day male state of mind. A feminist one.
