Red or blue?

By Fatemah Farag
Do you receive Valentine gifts? And if you don't, is this a matter of principle, a moral or conservative position, or simply because the delivery man does not come knocking on your door on the morning of the 14th bearing bunches of flowers, heart-shaped parcels, or even a simple card?
If the answer is the latter, you may well have been feeling a little isolated yesterday. Given the number of red heart-shaped pillows, candles, boxes and cards, not to mention the endless bunches of red roses and cute items with I love you written all over them that have sprouted up in almost every shop window, you might be forgiven for feeling that you are in the minority.
Valentine's Day is fast becoming one of those must observe occasions, its annual trappings as ubiquitous as the yellow Ms that heralded the arrival of that American hamburger chain. You cannot, it seems, escape these symbols of global culture, and if the relationship that evolves is of the love-hate variety that doesn't impinge on the marketing ploy. Love it or hate it, it doesn't matter. The important thing is to buy, buy, buy.
"I know nothing about the origins of Valentine's. All I know is that it is on 14 February and that one should express love by offering a nice gift," said Samah, a law student. She is out on a Valentine's shopping-spree with a group of giggling girlfriends, all glossily lip-sticked, all attired in fashionably tight clothes.
But then why should these young women know anything of Emperor Claudius II, a man who involved Rome in one too many a bloody war. Men resisted joining the army and the emperor struck back against his disobedient subjects by cancelling all weddings. A priest by the name of Valentine continued marrying couples in secret -- until, that is, Claudius II found out and had him imprisoned. Valentine died in jail on 14 February 270 AD.
Later, with Europe's Catholic hierarchy desperate to uproot pagan holidays, the church seized the opportunity provided by the fortunate timing of the priest's death to replace what must have been a particularly rowdy festival, Lupercalia -- a fertility festival that took place on 15 February. And in honour of the sacrifice Valentine made for love, he was thereafter known as St Valentine.
So there you have it: a pagan fertility rite replaced by a more acceptable, establishment kind of love. And now that consumerism is king it is only appropriate that St Valentine, a gimmick of the religious establishment, should be transformed into plain Valentine's. You can take the saint out of the day, but for heaven's sake leave the sales.
Celebrate the joy of giving; send love... buy now -- the sales pitches are eerily similar. One web site proudly boasts they "have gifts for all of your Valentines, for everything from new love to true love." Nor are cultural and national barriers likely to provide much protection from the onslaught of consumer ethics. As an Arab Web site, www.maktoob.com, tells us: "Nothing says 'I love you' better than a card, some nice words and gifts!"
The first of these, at least, has a slightly more venerable history than the inflatable heart-shaped balloon -- Valentine's Day lovers have been affixing their sentiments and signatures to Valentine cards since at least 1400. Today, though, a card is unlikely to prove enough, unless -- and this is the minimum -- it is accompanied by flowers and/or chocolates.
"I think a reasonable gift is a bottle of really nice perfume, a large teddy bear or else jewellery," asserts Fayza, Samah's best friend. "And flowers are the ideal accompaniment to a present."
Fayza's and Samah's Valentine's aspirations may be upwardly mobile, but the day itself has transcended class barriers.
"I buy flowers on Valentine's for my mother and girlfriends," says Fathiya, a young woman who works at a downtown shop, blushing at the mention of the possibility of buying a present for a boyfriend. And while yesterday smart flower shops were getting ready to send off elaborate creations costing hundreds of pounds, a street flower vendor in Bulaq was preparing for the big day with carefully wrapped single stems for a couple of pounds each.
An Egyptian Day of Love was proposed by journalist Mustapha Amin in the late 1980s for 4 November. Yet the date never gained popularity. Why? Samah, who has never heard of the Egyptian version, shrugs it off.
"I am reminded that Valentine's is coming because so many shops display items related to the occasion. But I never saw any display of presents in November."
Which is just about the gist of it.
Recommend this page
© Copyright Al-Ahram Weekly. All rights reserved
Send a letter to the Editor