“I remember it vividly. I was there.”
Although not yet a gender scholar deeply immersed in her country’s sociopolitical dynamics, Dalal Al-Faris was present during that monumental day on 17 May 2005.
Decades of lobbying and activism finally yielded the passing of a voting rights bill for women, with almost three-quarters of Kuwait’s National Assembly in favour.
Now, 17 years later with a series of political stalemates and changes alike, Kuwait enters yet another decisive phase for women.
"Ten years since the last time parliament hosted more than one female member, the return of Kuwaiti women to parliament poses a necessary reach for power"
Kuwait conducted its sixth polling in a decade on 29 September with what was hailed as the “most democratic” election in the country’s history.
Crown Prince Meshal Al-Sabah dissolved the parliament in late June, the government vowed no electoral interference, urged the nation to fulfil its responsibilities, and executed a thorough blockade on illegal electoral activities.
In a speech on behalf of the emir, the crown prince doubled down on the fateful importance of the elections, calling it a moment that ushers Kuwait into a “new era.”
“What came next in the post-women’s voting rights stage is a series of reactionary politics. We continue to see the state’s response through misogyny and anti-feminism. Now we’re at a point where it’s like holding your coat against the wind,” said Al-Faris, a professor of gender studies at Kuwait University.
Twenty-two women competed for Kuwait’s 16th parliamentary session among 305 candidates, aiming to represent their constituents on the 10 seats available in each of the five electoral districts. The former Minister of Housing Welfare Jenan Boushehri and three-time candidate Aliya Al-Khaled successfully gained a seat for the third and second districts respectively.
Ten years since the last time parliament hosted more than one female member, the return of Kuwaiti women to parliament poses a necessary reach for power.
With a growing rate of femicide over the past three years and rigid barriers to many rights, Kuwaiti women seek what’s beyond the optics of state titles and representation: a power that allows self-determination.
Seventeen years worth of political activity adds considerable context to the struggles of forming a unified political front for women in Kuwait. However, after nearly two decades of participating in a political scene heavily informed by Kuwait’s social dilemmas, that activity also takes away from any real push forward.
"We’re tired of hanging onto ideas that should be set in stone at this point, we want a woman who gets things done... I need someone who needs me to have my rights. I need someone who knows it is absolutely wrong that I can’t give my children citizenship, I can’t move in life without a man’s signature"
“In my circle at least, our back and forth on who to vote for was quick. We’re tired of hanging onto ideas that should be set in stone at this point, we want a woman who gets things done,” said Fatima, whose last name is concealed for her safety. “You sit on a chair and you scream women this and women that, that doesn’t cut it anymore in parliament. I need someone who needs me to have my rights. I need someone who knows it is absolutely wrong that I can’t give my children citizenship, I can’t move in life without a man’s signature. A woman who takes my ‘no, I refuse to live this way’ and puts it into law.”
Despite coming from an administration riddled with corruption charges, Boushehri’s political position focuses on institutional reform often aimed at the government and corporations. Before her ministerial position, Boushehri previously held roles as a parliament adviser and was a committee member at the Central Agency for Public Tenders, an institution long accused of being an exclusive negotiating table between the state and the merchant class.
“I voted for Jenan Boushehri for a few solid reasons and unfortunately none of them came with the sure sense that she’s explicitly a pro-women candidate,” Fatima told The New Arab. “She calls out the government and the merchants it works with, sure. She wants a better country, sure. But is legislating in favour of women her top priority? She knows how to move around the state and its ways but that also means she’s used to conceding things to get things. What is she willing to give up between a bill that ensures my safety and one on anti-corruption?”
As for Al-Khaled, similar to her 2020 campaign, her political position is often criticised as exclusionary and in favour of the merchant class’ hold on Kuwait’s institutions. Al-Khaled also comes from a wealthy upper-class background and a powerful political legacy as the granddaughter of Kuwait’s first Minister of Justice Humoud Al-Khaled.
Despite Al-Khaled’s political rhetoric being disavowed by many Kuwaiti women, her status still speaks to many who feel underrepresented in parliament.
Manal, whose real name is concealed for her safety, said “an English-speaking and Westernised candidate isn’t ideal to most of society,” though having a member of parliament “who is a woman coming from where I come from, it seems only right to see where she can take us.”
“The second district is predominantly upper class and it’s just as uninviting or tribalistic and dominated by men as other districts,” Manal said. “Not all of us share that same mentality and having a woman we could talk to in the assembly would be more malleable on social issues than a man. Sometimes, like in my case, we’re forced to vote for the possibility and not for the reality.”
"An English-speaking and Westernised candidate isn’t ideal to most of society... though having a member of parliament who is a woman coming from where I come from, it seems only right to see where she can take us”
Neither Boushehri nor Al-Khaled ran for office on any explicit message that the bulk of their politics would focus on women’s rights, issues or related legislation.
Unlike most male politicians, both women members of parliament don’t associate with any specific bloc and have yet to substantially collaborate with any male politician. The two politicians’ singular paths are both alarming yet expected for many women in Kuwait.
More ardent political critics like writer and doctoral researcher of Arab literature Sarah Al-Shammari point to a woman’s singular path in a “parliament full of men” as a debilitating challenge.
“Can two women really sign off a bill and that’s that? Especially when the political process demands coalition building on top of amending the district lines that prohibit accurate representation,” Sarah told The New Arab. “Despite these challenges, Kuwait as a whole has come a long way, this is a much more mature level of politics than before. And regardless of the classism posed by these women, they are professionals with well-defined goals. That, at the very least, is a sign of moving forward and that movement will require effective alliances.”
Women’s rights and education activist Ghanima Al-Kandari also noted the progress of two female members entering parliament, "especially under the circumstances of the one-vote electoral system” which previously allowed nationals to distribute multiple votes.
Despite this long-criticised voting method, originally enforced by a 2012 royal decree as an attempt to squelch opposition popularity in the voting booths, Al-Kandari commended the results as a “healthy variety that will surely lead to future voting for a candidate’s programme regardless of gender, social or class status,” she said.
Though unsurprised by the lack of diversity showcased by the two women in parliament, as both come from powerful classes, Al-Kandari points to civil society and organising on the ground as a key push forward for women.
Her legislative outlook points to abolishing laws that restrict a woman’s institutional access, such as those forbidding the passing of citizenship, and penal laws that rarely protect women from violence. Al-Kandari places more emphasis on institutional work than legislative work, noting that change starts on the ground before it happens in parliament.
“It’s natural that we see women with different programmes, that’s why we shouldn’t settle for the abstract representation of a woman,” Al-Kandari told The New Arab. “I do believe that women in Kuwait know what to do and are politically conscious. The results of an election are never a true representation of the people due to the electoral system, the masculine culture of the system, and the corruption that drives people to vote for [political] favours.”
"It’s natural that we see women with different programmes, that’s why we shouldn’t settle for the abstract representation of a woman"
For Nour Jaafar, a “different programme” by a candidate with a strong “abstract representation” was a decisive element in her voting. The architectural engineer was hoping for a candidate that “crosses the margin and poses an actual threat to the system we’re all tired of, be it, man or woman,” she said. To her shock and the public alike, Jaafar’s fourth district witnessed the abrupt rise of first-time candidate Moudhi Al-Mutairi.
Hailing from a filial background that is both deeply political and tribal, one that she had to ward off during her candidacy, Al-Mutairi is a bedouin woman donning a burka in a district dominated by conservative men.
Her political aims involved reforming National Assembly functions, setting term limits for the prime minister position, and legislating laws in favour of women and Kuwait’s stateless population among many other progressive goals in her campaign. She gained over 3,000 votes, considerably higher than Al-Khaled’s polling, yet lost due to electoral parameters of the fourth district’s size and population – like the one-vote per person rule, district lines are another election barrier labelled by critics as gerrymandering.
“I saw her blow up on social media and then I decided I have to go see her talk,” Jaafar said, having intended initially to vote for a male candidate she did not disclose. “Her prowess over politics, her understanding of Kuwaiti society, the cutthroat clarity of what she aims for, these were all convincing enough. But, then she was also inviting. She didn’t shy away from issues she didn’t know much about and she directly called for a coalition with people facing issues she doesn’t face.”
Jaafar, who comes from an urban and Shia background as opposed to Al-Mutairi, added that her ultimate reason to vote for the “wild card candidate” is that “finally, someone brings intersectionality to the table.”
"Women who are powerful enough to enter the parliament are often more representative of Kuwait’s political history rather than the complexities of Kuwait’s various groups of women, all of which are separated by class, culture, ethnicity, sect, and ultimately, power"
Although having more in common with former candidate Al-Mutairi, Bedouin women’s rights activist Shafiah Al-Ajmi relates to Jaafar’s attraction toward “intersectional” politics. Al-Ajmi was just as surprised, adding that Al-Mutairi’s “political case is utterly unique as both a covered tribal woman representing a large and silenced group of women and also a powerful orator with no backing in media, no funding, no existing bloc cosigning her,” she said.
“Moudhi [Al-Mutairi] stepped into the spotlight without the usual support a female politician enjoys which is a bourgeois background and powerful men at her side,” Al-Ajmi told the New Arab. “But she stepped in commanding everyone’s respect as an outspoken and well-spoken candidate. Her campaign was also more about listening than talking, and what she represents for the potential of Kuwait’s political scene is a success larger than her election loss.”
Just as both Al-Ajmi and Jaafar commended Al-Mutairi’s symbolic victories, the realities posed by Al-Khaled and Boushehri’s entry to the National Assembly are similarly symbolic. Women who are powerful enough to enter the parliament are often more representative of Kuwait’s political history rather than the complexities of Kuwait’s various groups of women, all of which are separated by class, culture, ethnicity, sect, and ultimately, power.
Historically, powerful men invite the women adjacent to their power into the process of nation-building, Professor Al-Faris explained. Through exclusive circles, be they in institutions or cultural hubs locked within certain families, the government has over time created its own “state feminism,” she said.
“If you’re not affected by it, you’re probably applying [the state’s] effects on these dynamics,” the gender scholar said. “It’s a process of cultural coding morphing into an institutionalised codex. And more so than the creation of state feminism that combats legitimate attempts for intersectional feminist politics, this process has ultimately created an anti-feminist state.”
In her explanation of how a recurring female entry to parliament is almost always one that fails to represent women adequately, Al-Faris pointed to upper-class feminist circles excluding other female factions of Kuwaiti society.
Most recently, as stateless Kuwaitis protest the institutional body criticised for systematically oppressing them, Member of Parliament Al-Khaled commended the government’s work citing the naturalization of stateless people would harm the country’s “national identity.”
|
Commenting on the exclusionary rhetoric that permeates into Kuwaiti politics concerning women, longtime statelessness activist and writer Hadeel Al-Shammari sees little value in a female return to parliament. Hadeel, who also works in a variety of women’s rights circles with a wide selection of women across Kuwaiti society at large, calls it an “existential crisis” of a moment.
“I do not see at all that oppressed women and stateless women are in any way a priority for the two women in parliament or parliament in general,” Hadeel said. “I am fully convinced that there is no victory for stateless women in this and seeing any legislation for women comes with a massive question mark. It is depressing to see these women claim an interest in freedom for women then look at other women through a dehumanising perspective.”
Yousef H. Alshammari is a US-based Kuwaiti journalist and writer with a focus on international politics and culture.
Follow him on Twitter: @YousefWryRonin