A declaration of freedom
For some in Pakistan, marriage is a sacred tradition that acts as a filter for blood lineage, creed, tribe and clan so that future generations are ‘pure’ and ‘honour’ is upheld.
But for some Sindhi women who bravely fight against tradition and coercion, marriage is the ultimate declaration of freedom – to choose one’s own destiny. It’s self affirming and liberating. The issue of forced marriages is all about the different competing conceptions of marriage. We need to have a national discussion on marriage, because more often than not when the topic is discussed we ignore the deep moral questions at stake and recommend ‘education and employment’.
In a recent academic paper, the authors concluded that, ‘Our findings also have implications for policy. In particular, the findings that education and employment do not necessarily enhance women’s autonomy and that traditional factors conferring status on women remain strong suggest that strategies to enhance women’s autonomy need to expand beyond education, employment, and delayed marriage.’
What the emerging stories of brave Sindhi women declaring their freedom and love tell us is to rethink the way to tackle gender oppression – expanding beyond education and employment. Advocacy, raising gender consciousness and creating a culture of egalitarianism is critical. In other words a Pakistani feminism that is publicly vocal has to create a voice for itself in the public sphere. This can be done in terms of contributing to the national debate, shaping public discourse and creating a moral sentiment that supports these brave acts – because the sad fact is that the great work of NGOs, lawyers and civil society can all be drowned out by the sexist rantings of madmen. Public support has to accompany the hard work of grass roots organisations and Pakistan’s ‘free media’ could do so much more.
At the end of the day however, it is the abuse of women that dominates any discussion on marriage another deeper question is to be asked. Are women considered as fully human? Because the only conclusion that can be taken away from the fact that daughters bear the brunt of persecution suggests that our culture has a problem with ‘being a woman’. Even with an education if the cultural biases of patriarchal oppression are not examined then what the middle classes are practicing is a watered down version of rural oppression. For instance the middle class and even those from wealthier families in Pakistan and in the Diaspora abroad try and dodge the issue of free will by arguing that forced marriages are different from arranged marriages.
Granted, that is a distinction that should be respected but that still does not answer the question about what marriage really represents and more importantly whether it is the two people marrying who get to define it. It also avoids the question of power within family structures – surely in arranged marriages, although it is not coercive it does curtail the free will of the children. Sometimes the fine line between ‘parental advice’ and ‘coercion’ is blurred. But still arranged marriages can be reformed – certainly, in the sub-continental Diaspora the notion of an ‘arranged marriage’ has been updated – this new formula for marital bliss is now dubbed as ‘semi-arranged marriage’ – a 21st century makeover to an ancient tradition. Clearly family consideration and liberty can be balanced.
But is love ‘sinful’ – because that is the impression one gets from traditional Muslim societies like Pakistan. More appropriately are free-will marriages scandalous or are they what really contributes to a tender and more compassionate society?
These brave Sindhi women however are making a clear statement that love and freedom go together – you cannot have one without the other. But an alternative reading has also emerged – these public declarations of free will marriages are really a desperate public appeal for security, a way to tackle any family reprisal and a plea to the authorities to take action. What these actions also highlight is the failure of the collective judiciary (particularly at the lower levels where the judiciary is as corrupt as the police if not more) and police force who cannot guarantee the security and liberties of the citizens they are supposed to protect. The public declaration of free will marriages is a microcosm into Pakistani society. It is a society that yearns for change but is shackled and held back by decaying institutions, archaic traditions and a life sucking dogmatism.
Marriages are the foundational institution for any society, hence it follows that if marriages are based on coercion, violence, torture and sadism then society becomes dehumanized, deprived of dignity and soulless. If marriage becomes a matter for familial respect rather than honest commitment we are engulfed in self-righteous hypocrisy (although of course the two are not mutually exclusive).
But more than marriage what we need to reconsider is what makes an action ‘honourable’ – the mantra of ‘honour’ and ‘respect’ takes precedence in Pakistani moral discourse. Therefore, one has to ask what indeed is honourable and respectable about barbaric compulsion. The idea of honour has been mutilated in Pakistan and resurrecting honour as a virtue that inspires chivalry, liberty and compassion is crucial. Too often honour and respect are confused with pride, arrogance, spectacular violence and bigotry.
Marriage is both a public institution and an act – it carries with it a meaning whether we like it or not. The type of marriages the State recognises and sanctions gives us a clue about the nature of that State and the sort of justice that it practices. The way, we as individuals get married speaks volumes about our ‘family values’ and sheds light on what we truly hold to be sacred.
The views expressed by this blogger and in the following reader comments do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of the Dawn Media Group.