The Palestinian Women's Autonomous Movement: Emergence, Dynamics, and Challenges
Author(s): Rabab Abdulhadi
Reviewed work(s): Source: Gender and Society, Vol. 12, No. 6, Special Issue: Gender and Social Movements, Part 1 (Dec., 1998), pp. 649-673 Published by: Sage Publications, Inc. Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/190511 . Accessed: 21/10/2012 18:37 Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at . http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp . JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range of content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new forms of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact support@jstor.org. . Sage Publications, Inc. is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to Gender and Society. http://www.jstor.org THE PALESTINIAN WOMEN'S AUTONOMOUS MOVEMENT Emergence, Dynamics, and Challenges RABAB ABDULHADI Yale University This article examines the Palestinian women's autonomous movement that emerged in the early 1990s, emphasizing changes in the sociopolitical context to accountfor the movement's emergence, dynamics, and challenges. Using interviews obtained duringfieldwork in Palestine in 1992, 1993, and 1994, and employing historical and archival records, I argue that Palestinian feminist discourses were shaped and influenced by the sociopolitical context in which Palestinian women acted and with which they inter- acted. The multiplicity of views voiced by the women I interviewed attests to the impossibility of homoge- nizing andflattening women's experiences, while the range of actions and strategies employed by differ- ent groups and organizations calls attention to contextual limitations on social action. In the early 1990s, an autonomous Palestinian women's movement emerged in the Israeli-occupied West Bank and Gaza Strip. Relatively independent of the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) leadership, Palestinian women articulated views and adopted strategies that were distinctly different from the previously con- structed imagery of their womanhood and the roles assigned to them by their na- tional movement. While Palestinian women's activism can be traced back to at least the early 1920s, direct concern with women's liberation as opposed to women's in- volvement in the national movement distinguished the 1990s' Palestinian women's stands and actions. In 1991, the United Nations Development Plan (UNDP) Women's Task Force, a coalition of four women's committees, four research and advocacy centers, two le- gal aid concerns, and tens of grassroots organizations and voluntary associations, as well as feminists academics, organized three workshops in which hundreds of Pal- estinian women discussed and produced the Women's Agenda as a strategic vision AUTHOR'S NOTE: This article is part of a larger project, "The Limitations of Nationalism: Gender Dynamics and the Emergent Palestinian Feminist Discourses," researched during my undergraduate studies at Hunter College. Different versions were presented at different places, including meetings of the Stratification Committee of the International Sociological Association (ISA), the American Socio- logical Association, Ohio State University, the Graduate Center of the City University of New York, Bar- nard College, and Yale University. lam grateful to ReemAbdelhadi, TerryArendell, Nancy Coffin, Cathy Cohen, Michele Dillon, Kai Erikson, Frances Hasso, Maha Jarad, Joanne Nagel, Joseph Masaad, Chandra Talpade Mohanty, Debra Minkoff, Rosalind Petchesky, Francesca Polletta, Belinda Robnett, Beth Schneider, Ella Shohat, Carolyn Somerville, Nancy Whittier, Jaime Veve, and two anonymous re- viewers for comments on different drafts. GENDER & SOCIETY, Vol. 12 No. 6, December 1998 649-673 ? 1998 Sociologists for Women in Society 649 650 GENDER & SOCIETY / December 1998 document for Palestinian women's empowerment. Also in 1991, the Palestinian feminist organization, El-Fanar, founded to protest the killing of women to protect "family honor," organized street demonstrations in three Palestinian major towns inside Israel. By 1993, the Directory of Palestinian Women's Organizations listed 174 women's organizations operating in eight areas of the occupied West Bank, Gaza Strip, and East Jerusalem. In the same year, Palestinian women organized conferences, seminars, and meetings in which violence against women, women's reproductive health and rights, the drop-out rates among school girls, the Islamist imposition of a dress code on women in Gaza, and women's legal status and per- sonal status code were publicly discussed for the first time. A shift was evident in the discourse of Islamist women who deviated from the official line of the Islamic Resistance Movement, Hamas, by advocating a new view on women's roles and freedoms. A similar development was also witnessed among women cadres of the four major PLO groups who began to publicly question and criticize their organiza- tions' positions and practices on women's liberation. Publications such as the Ish- tar, Woman, Women's Voice, and Women's Affairs began to publish studies on di- vorce, early marriages, women's professions, and women's roles in the informal economy. The content of women's writing in major Palestinian newspapers shifted from a focus on cooking, proper housekeeping, and caring for children to include discussions of political affairs and women's rights. Different networks of women were formed according to different geographic, programmatic, organizational, and ideological concerns. In 1994, Palestinian women's activism impacted the acad- emy as feminist academics/activists founded the Women's Studies Program at Bir Zeit University with the purpose of promoting feminist education that is linked to community service. The emergence of the Palestinian women's autonomous movement as well as the multiplicity of its expressions presents a puzzle: Why did the movement emerge at this particular time, considering that the early 1990s marked perhaps the lowest ebb for the Palestinian national movement? How do we account for the diverse dis- courses and actions deployed by different "categories" of Palestinian women? Third, how did the challenges facing Palestinian women change as the context in which they act and with which they interact changed, especially after the Israel- PLO Accord of 1993? This article seeks answers to these questions. In so doing, I construct a paradigm that grounds the Palestinian women's movement historically and firmly situates it in the sociopolitical context of Middle Eastern and global poli- tics. I begin by analyzing the conditions under which the movement emerged. I then turn to a discussion of Palestinian women's discourses and actions. Finally, I exam- ine the challenges facing Palestinian women. My work in this article is informed by two theoretical notions: First is the femi- nist "paradigm of difference" that recognizes diversity in women's experiences and acknowledges that these experiences are shaped by the intersection of multiple sys- tems of oppression (Flax 1990; Hill Collins 1990; hooks 1981; Jayawardena 1986; Abdulhadi / PALESTINIAN WOMEN'S MOVEMENT 651 Minh-ha 1989; Mohanty, Russo, and Torres 1991). Second and equally important, I see changes in the sociopolitical context as influencing and shaping the emergence, dynamics, and the future course of the movement (Staggenborg 1991; Taylor and Rupp 1993; Whittier 1995). Here, I draw on analysis that lies at the intersection of political and sociological concerns, especially the general framework of political process/political opportunity structure offered by social movement theorists (Buechler 1990; Katzenstein and Mueller 1987; McAdam 1982, 1996; McAdam, McCarthy, and Zald 1996; Meyer 1993; Tarrow 1994, 1996). The definition of the political context, however, must be expanded to allow for the particularities of the Palestinian women's case. McAdam, McCarthy, and Zald, for example, suggest four dimensions in a definition of political opportunity structure: "the relative openness or closure of the institutional political system; the stability of that broad set of elite alignments that typically undergird a polity; the presence of elite allies; [and] the state's capacity and propensity for repression" (1996, 10). A closer look at these dimensions reveals that the discussion is limited to conventional politics within the borders of a single state, although McAdam, McCarthy, and Zald empha- size that political constraints and opportunities are "unique to the national context in which they are embedded" (1996, 2-3). The conventional definition is inadequate for explaining the emergence and dy- namics of the Palestinian women's movement. Palestinians have been dispersed throughout the Middle East and the world since the establishment of the state of Is- rael in 1948. Consequently, the context shaping Palestinian national and gender dy- namics is not limited to the boundaries of a single state; rather, it includes local, re- gional, and international politics. In addition, their emphasis on the immediacy of political opportunity structure may preclude reference to the specific historical conditions in which a social movement arises and which uniquely gives it its par- ticular flavor. Furthermore, missing from McAdam, McCarthy, and Zald's analysis is an account of the interactive relationship between gender dynamics and the struc- ture of political opportunities. My interviews with Palestinian women and men, however, suggest that the Pal- estinian women's autonomous movement emerged as a result of historically pro- duced political and cultural contexts that created gendered political opportunities. The movement came about as a culmination of a rich history of struggles in which certain conditions prior to the changes in the structure of political opportunity were met. This long tradition of activism included different forms of collective action, generated various organizational models, developed networks with other women's groups, and produced a particular culture of struggle and combativeness. The emer- gence of the Palestinian women's autonomous movement at the lowest ebb of the national movement points to the salience of gender in structuring political opportu- nities. In addition, the multiplicity of discursive and action-oriented expressions of the Palestinian women's movement were directly linked to the gendered sociopoli- tical context in which they acted and with which they interacted. 652 GENDER & SOCIETY / December 1998 RESEARCH METHOD AND DATA SOURCES My data include 74 open-ended, in-depth interviews with 68 Palestinian women activists (and 6 men), gathered during fieldwork in the West Bank, Gaza Strip, and Arab East Jerusalem and in the United States in 1992, 1993, and 1994. While some interviews were 30 minutes long, the majority lasted from two to four hours. The topics for discussion were diverse and the interviews can best be described as dis- cussions and conversations, consistent with qualitative feminist methods, rather than strictly structured interviews. I personally transcribed the interviews in Ara- bic, translated them into English, and thematically coded them to ensure maximum accuracy, following a modified grounded theory approach (Strauss and Corbin 1990). Snowball sampling was used. I asked women I met at different political and feminist functions while they were touring the United States or participating at United Nations' nongovernmental organization (NGO) and other conferences or whom I knew through political and feminist activist networks to participate in the research and to nominate other women for interview. I tapped multiple networks so that I included nonprofessionals as well as professionals, women with diverse po- litical affiliations and the independently inclined, members of charitable associa- tions and women's committees, Christians and Muslims, secular women and Isla- mists. I used networks based in Gaza, West Bank, and East Jerusalem as well as women from towns, villages, and refugee camps. The group, then, is representative of the different political, social, and cultural trends among Palestinian women in- volved in the autonomous movement. The age range was between 19 and 72 with the majority being in their middle 30s to early 50s. Fifty women were married, 13 single, and 3 divorced. Seven were homemakers; the rest of the sample included health care professionals, social workers, and representatives of the media, literary, legal, academic, and NGO communities. The sample was evenly divided between college graduates, holders of graduate degrees, and those with high school diplo- mas. The academic disciplines of those with degrees included engineering, litera- ture (Arabic and English), economics, law, community health, sociology, and po- litical science. Professions, disciplines, and areas of interests of the sample overlapped. For example, a specialist in community health was also a sociologist, an economist was a director of a research center, and a chair of a women's commit- tee was a school teacher. If anything, this overlap points to the blurred lines between activism, professionalism, and interest-a widespread phenomenon in the Pales- tinian society. I also relied on records I collected during my field research (1992, 1993, and 1994) from diverse sources. I examined material on the Palestinian national move- ment from documents, magazines, leaflets, and publications of the PLO, its various political factions, their leaders, and their support groups; leaflets issued by the Uni- fied National Leadership of the Uprising (UNLU) in the occupied territories from its inception in 1987 to 1993; leaflets of the Islamic Resistance Movement, Hamas; Abdulhadi / PALESTINIAN WOMEN'S MOVEMENT 653 clippings from the two major Palestinian newspapers in the West Bank and Gaza (Al-Quds and Al-Nahar) on issues relevant to gender relations; and publications of Palestinian academic institutions and universities, such as the Women's Studies Program and the Community Health Project at Bir Zeit University. With respect to women's activism, I used publications of various Palestinian women's groups, in- cluding research centers, grassroots and activist groups, committees, voluntary (or charitable) associations; and social, cultural, folkloric, economic, and political spe- cialized organizations. I drew on writings by Palestinian women on Palestinian women, in both Arabic and English, and on demographic and sociological data pro- duced in English.' In short, no document or historical record that seemed remotely relevant to my study was left unexamined. THE PALESTINIAN WOMEN'S AUTONOMOUS MOVEMENT The Palestinian women's autonomous movement did not emerge in a vacuum. Palestinian women's collective actions were influenced by (1) a preexisting cul- tural context of gender hierarchy, (2) local conditions, and (3) international and re- gional developments. Women's actions and interactions were immediately situated in a local context of the Palestinian national movement's dismissal-despite lip service-of women's aspirations and expectations, especially during the Intifada, or popular uprising, and Israeli policies that exploited societal norms of honor and the expected code of morality. The evolving localized context within which Pales- tinian women experienced mounting grievances saw the weakening of the Intifada, the political prominence of Islamist groups, and the emergence of pseudomilita- rized youth bands with the self-assigned role of imposing a certain code of moral behavior. International and regional developments in the late 1980s and early 1990s, such as the New World Order, perestroika, glasnost, and the Gulf War, repre- sented a new set of intervening conditions in which windows of opportunities were opened for Palestinian women to challenge the nationalist-constructed imagery of their womanhood. The international context, specifically Palestinian women's net- working with other women's groups at international gatherings, sharpened their sense of the injustice wrought upon them and provided them with other models by which to interpret and protest their experiences. More recent developments-in- cluding the Israel-PLO Accord of September 13, 1993, and the subsequent political conflict between the Arafat leadership on one side and the secular Left and the Isla- mist groups on the other-radically changed the sociopolitical context. This com- plex, multidimensional, and fluid sociopolitical map represents the context in which Palestinian women activists embarked on a collective process of revising their historical narrative, negotiating their social and political roles, challenging their subordination, and articulating new terms for their participation in the social and political life of their people. 654 GENDER & SOCIETY / December 1998 Historical Roots Palestinian women's activism can be traced back to at least 1921 with the foun- dation of the Palestinian Women's Union, which led demonstrations against the Balfour Declaration and organized the General Palestinian Women's Congress in Jerusalem in 1929 (Al-Khalili 1977, 77). Palestinian women played active roles, as well, during every stage of their people's struggle. During the 1936-39 Revolt (Ha- dawi 1989; Kanafani 1974; see also Guardian Collective 1977), Palestinian women cared for the injured, demonstrated, signed petitions, hid rebels, and took up arms to defend their land (Abu Ali 1974, 30-32). In the 1947-48 war, which resulted in the establishment of the state of Israel, Palestinian women immediately had to assume the responsibility of their families and their nation (Kazi 1987, 28-29), thus radi- cally altering their social roles. Between 1948 and 1967, Palestinian women joined various political movements such as Al-Fatah, founded in 1965 by Yasser Arafat and his colleagues (Hart 1984, 116); the Arab National Movement, founded by Dr. George Habash and Dr. Wadi Haddad in 1952 (Khaled 1973); Al-Baath; and the Jordanian Communist Party (Al-Khalili 1977, 96). Women also played key roles among the Palestinian community in Israel, which was placed under Israeli martial law from 1948 to 1966, especially in Al-Ard, an underground movement, and the Israeli Communist Party. In 1965, shortly before the Israeli occupation of the West Bank and Gaza (and other Arab territories), 139 delegates, chosen through informal social networks and representing Palestinian communities around the world, convened and formed the General Union of Palestinian Women (GUPW) as a mass-based institution of the PLO. Reflecting gender consciousness while upholding its claim to Palestinian na- tionhood, the GUPW's charter departed from that of the PLO. The Palestine Na- tional Charter (1968) confined Palestinian identity to that which is "transmitted fromfather to son" and limited Palestinianness to "anyone born to a Palestinian fa- ther [emphasis added]" (as reprinted in Hadawi 1989, 310). The GUPW, on the other hand, surpassed this masculinist construct to recognize both mother and fa- ther as defining the national identity of their children. The 1967 Israeli occupation was a turning point for the Palestinian movement, as well as for Palestinian women. The overwhelming defeat of the Arab official re- gime led to the 1968-69 takeover of the PLO by Palestinian guerrilla groups. The newly adopted PLO Charter defined armed struggle as the "only strategy for the liberation of Palestine" effectively making martyrdom the ultimate act of sacrifice and courage. Meanwhile, an environment of occupation and resistance relaxed social control, thus enabling Palestinian women to join guerilla groups, which resulted in their increased involvement in the resistance movement. In its attempt to mobilize the largest possible numbers of the population, however, the Palestinian national movement was faced with a paradox: how to define and conceptualize women's roles without disturbing the delicate gendered balance in Palestinian society. Not unlike other national movements, the Palestinian leadership drew on exist- ing societal norms of patriarchy and at times mirrored the discourses of their colo- Abdulhadi / PALESTINIAN WOMEN'S MOVEMENT 655 nizers (see, e.g., Fanon's analysis [1963, 1965] of the Algerian revolution). Thus, the Palestinian leadership defined women's roles by constructing three distinct, yet interconnected, images of Palestinian womanhood.2 The first image, the "superwo- man," glorified martyrdom and nurturance. A leader of the GUPW and of the Fatah movement, for example, contrasted the ways in which the PLO leadership expected women and men to behave: No image was constructed for the man who is accepted as an activist, even if he di- vorces his wife and marries another; he may even marry another while still married to the first. His political image remains unshaken. But, for us, women? We are expected to be perfect in everything; a woman has to be a good mother, a good wife, and at the same time a good activist, a hard worker, and a militant; her home must be well- tended, her social standing good; and her appearance presentable. This is inhuman. Do they want us to be goddesses? The second image, the "fertile mother" or reproducer of the nation, drew on cul- tural heritage and encouraged having a large number of children, preferably boys. Constructing this image showed that the Palestinian national leadership did not contest-but actually acquiesced to-Israel's definition of the conflict as a "demo- graphic war," in which victory is achieved by the side with the largest population. Thus, "bearing more children for the revolution" was repeatedly heard from PLO Chairman Yasser Arafat as he exhorted women to have no less than 12 children each (Najjar 1992, 258). This call mirrored the task assigned to Jewish women by Ben Gurion (Freedman 1990) and attempted to respond to infamous statements made by Golda Meir-the only woman to ever become Israel's prime minister-who pub- licly spoke of her "nightmares" caused by the realization that upon waking up, "an- other Palestinian child will be born" (Meir 1975, as cited in Abdo 1991, 24). The third image conceived of Palestinian womanhood as a signifier of national honor. The nation, Palestine, was imagined (see Anderson 1991) as a vulnerable be- loved woman, whose victimization by Zionist settlers was to be vindicated by Sha- bab Al-Tha'r, or young men of revenge, the name of a resistance group that emerged in the 1950s. Israeli policies were implicated in the consolidation of these images. For example, shortly after the beginning of the 1967 occupation, Israeli interroga- tors exploited concepts of honor and shame to bring Palestinian women prisoners to submission and confession (Warnock 1990). As Warnock and others (e.g., Thorn- hill 1992) have shown, Israeli interrogation methods included threatening Palestin- ian women with rape and attempting in some cases to tear up their clothes and to ex- pose their nakedness to their fathers or brothers. In most cases, Palestinian women prisoners opted to confess rather than soil their honor and disgrace their families. As a result, the national slogan, al-ard wala al- 'ard, or "land before honor," was de- ployed to suggest that liberating the homeland took precedent over preserving women's "honor." Rather than signifying a radical discursive shift in Palestinian national lingo, this slogan simply suggested a different order of priorities. Nonethe- less, the complexity of gendered nationalist politics becomes apparent: While in- voking this slogan enabled a few victims of sexual violence to speak up without 656 GENDER & SOCIETY / December 1998 bringing "shame" to themselves and their families, it did not convince a majority of sexually tortured women to report such abuses, lest their reputations be tarnished. For example, Fatma Abu Bakra, interrogated for 50 continuous days in 1986 in Ashkelon prison and eventually forced to confess, revealed 11 months later and only when allowed to speak to her female lawyer, Lea Tsemel, that she was sexually tortured (Thorhill 1992, 24, 31-32). Others doubted that "land before honor" radi- cally changed things, as an activist at the Women's Affairs Center in Gaza ex- plained: The concept of "honor" still persists and the Israelis know it. Zionism and Israel have exploited the concept of honor and its connection to Palestinian tradition and customs. And this has played a great role in shaping the history of the Palestinian cause. Palestinian women, then, were always involved in the political life of their peo- ple. Women's active participation, however, was not sufficient to radically alter the status quo in gender relations. This was due to the Palestinian movement's view that national liberation was its first and only priority, Israeli policies that produced gen- dered occupation practices, and Palestinian women's participation in the reproduc- tion and maintenance of national gendered discourses. Intifada: Hopes for Freedom, Broken Promises The Palestinian Intifada began on December 9, 1987, as a democratic, grassroots movement. Bringing together all sectors of Palestinian society with the professed aim of rolling back 20 years of Israeli occupation, the Intifada called for an inde- pendent Palestinian state with a new set of political, cultural, and socioeconomic values. The Intifada shaped gender dynamics by providing Palestinian women with the necessary skills for their future feminist struggles, enabled them to network and interact with each other, and raised their expectations, especially during its first year. Palestinian women's participation en masse in the social, economic, and po- litical affairs gave them a sense of power and accomplishment. A preexisting net- work of women's committees and associations (see Rupp and Taylor 1987; Taylor 1989) provided literacy classes and organized vocational training in sewing, weav- ing, and secretarial skills. Child care centers were opened to provide a safe environ- ment for children while their mothers were at work. According to Eileen Kuttab, founder of "Our Production is Our Pride" cooperative, women's committees also formed economic cooperatives to sustain their livelihood, to boycott Israeli goods, and to provide a Palestinian national alternative-a main theme of the Intifada. It seemed as if a new dawn were breaking: According to Manar Hassan, cofounder of El-Fanar, the Palestinian Feminist Organization, In its beginning, the Intifada was not only a political issue; a social revolution was tak- ing place. Women began to get out of the house, from their cocoon, from the kitchen and washing dishes, and go out and participate with men. As if she has forgotten the whole history of patriarchal oppression. She could now lead popular committees, Abdulhadi / PALESTINIAN WOMEN'S MOVEMENT 657 build other committees, decide, and participate in decision-making. This is not only nationalism. Here the linkage was being made unconsciously. New forms of street activities in which women took part included international women's day marches organized by the Higher Women's Council (HWC) in differ- ent parts of the West Bank and Gaza. A member of the Union of Working Women's Committees, affiliated with the People's Party, cited the Nablus event on March 8, 1988, in which over 1,000 women participated, as indicative of social change: Although we do not have a barometer to measure how much of a social improvement we accomplished, I can at least say that when I participate in a march, my mother-in- law, or the store owner stopped giving me the look we all knew implied criticism. The HWC was a concrete organizational mechanism developed as a network of the four women's committees that came together to build a coalition with politically unaffiliated women.3 The creation of the UNLU and the emphasis the Intifada placed on "unity in struggle" provided the leadership of women's committees with the incentive to coordinate their activities and to minimize factional competition. The second year of the Intifada saw a shift in the local context, which directly al- tered gender dynamics, thus crushing Palestinian women's hopes for liberation. This change resulted from a combination of the successful attempt by the Islamic Resistance Movement, Hamas, to impose wearing the Hijab, or headcover, on women in Gaza, harsher measures adopted by the Israeli occupation authorities, and the replacement of the grassroots resistance by small semimilitary bands of young men. For example, using intimidation and threats, Hamas activists threw acid, stones, tomatoes, and eggs on unscarved women to force women to comply with their will (Hammami 1990). As former Palestinian spokeswoman, Hanan Ashrawi, put it: The most visible aspect of this victimization is the Hijab. To me, this sums up the way you view a woman: as a sex object, as shameful, so you cover her up; as a commodity, the possession of the man; as a secondary member of society-she is supposed to stay at home to support the master ... The dress code reinforces the invisibility of women. (Hadi 1992, 15) Palestinian women were also subjected to other forms of abuse. Hamas' coercive act did not elicit a single word from the UNLU until September 1989. After a year had lapsed, UNLU's leaflet no. 43 was followed by an appendix upholding the rights of women not to adorn the Hijab (Hammami 1990, 40). By then it was too late: Almost all Palestinian women traveling to Gaza had to wear the Hijab or risk being attacked by Hamas. The initial refusal of national groups to lend support to their own members, let alone the rest of women, added insults to injury. A few months earlier, on November 15, 1988, the Declaration of Palestinian Independ- ence proclaimed opposition to discrimination on "the basis on sex, race, religion, or political affiliation." 658 GENDER & SOCIETY / December 1998 The deterioration of the Intifada was also reflected in the importance Palestini- ans gave to Isqat, or the process by which Israel exploited the concept of honor to recruit Palestinian collaborators, primarily women. Literally meaning "to make one fall," Isqat became a household expression after greater numbers of Palestini- ans were arrested, assassinated, or expelled by Israel based on data supplied by in- formants. The practice served to marginalize and make suspect all women activists. A leader of the Union of Women's Struggle Committees in Gaza described the pro- cess of Isqat: Women can be turned into collaborators using a cup of coffee. Mukhabarat [Israeli in- telligence] finds out who the woman's best friend is and recruit her to get to their origi- nal target. They used to use a cup of coffee spiked with drugs but now after they made "technological advances," they started to make women sniff [drugs]. Sometimes a hairdresser is used. A woman going for a haircut is given a cup of coffee with drugs. Once unconscious, the Palestinian Effendi [an Ottoman expression meaning gentle- man, used sarcastically here] who "volunteered" his services to the Israelis, undresses her, sometimes rapes her, and takes pictures of her either naked or in other compro- mising positions, which he, then, hands over to the Mukhabarat. Two weeks later, they send for her and threaten to make these photos public. This is how one becomes saqita [fallen]. The coincidence of the deterioration of the Intifada with the rising popularity of Hamas, and increased Israeli attempts to recruit collaborators, was detrimental to Palestinian women. An emerging "culture of modesty" (Hammami 1991, 78) mar- ginalized Palestinian women. With the exception of those residing and working in relatively less restricted environments (urban, middle-class, highly educated, and secular) and who rejected these demarcation lines outright, the majority of Palestin- ian women were unable to seriously challenge threats to their honor. Instead, they devised culturally grounded measures to ensure that their reputations remained un- blemished while guaranteeing their freedom of movement and activism. For exam- ple, according to an activist from a Gaza refugee camp, women survived Isqat: Through the word of mouth, we spread the news that no one should have a drink while making social visits. No coffee, no RC [a local soda], nothing. "Even while visiting your own brother, do not drink anything, except if the can is sealed!" At one point, we started saying that we were fasting; we were either making up for the days lost [while menstruating] in Ramadan or because it was a Monday or a Thursday [days during which fasting is favored]. SHIFTING CONTEXT: WINDOWS OF OPPORTUNITY As evident thus far, grievances concerning gender subordination were shared by a growing number of Palestinian women as early as the late 1960s. As well, women's expectations of improved status arose during the first year of the Intifada, only to be crushed in its later phases. Clearly, Palestinian women were not new to Abdulhadi / PALESTINIAN WOMEN'S MOVEMENT 659 experiencing activism, building organization, or engaging in different aspects and forms of struggle (see Tilly 1978). Why did an autonomous Palestinian women's movement, then, fail to emerge until the 1990s? The constellation of international, regional, and local events in the early 1990s marked, perhaps, the lowest ebb for the Palestinian movement. Ironically, these same developments opened windows of opportunities (Meyer 1993) for Palestinian women to collectively mount their challenges. The early 1990s witnessed the emergence of the New World Order-a political development that reverberated at an international, regional, and local level. Interna- tionally, the New World Order, a doctrine conceptualized by then U.S. President George Bush, aimed at reaping the fruits of a situation in which the United States became the only superpower in a unipolar world. The Gulf War was the most visible manifestation of this policy. The shifting international balance of power affected Palestinian women in different ways. At a regional level, the collapse of the Social- ist bloc undermined the influence of Marxist thought among Arab communists and cost Arab nationalists and communists, including the Palestinians, their most for- midable ally. In addition, Iraq's defeat, a bastion of officially organized Arab na- tionalism, and the division of the Arab states during the war dealt a paralyzing blow to that ideology. The combination of a lessened influence of Marxist thought and a weakened standing of the nationalist project adversely affected secular thought and increased the credibility of Islamist forces. Furthermore, a professor of sociology and women's studies at Bir Zeit University attributed the rising popularity of Islamism to conflicting class cleavages as Palestinians at the grass roots rejected the "bour- geoisie's efforts to bring about Western-oriented modernization." Because "these new sectors were alienated from the West, they wanted something authentic-an indigenous response. Islamic tendencies provided the answer." Palestinian women, like Palestinian men, were not isolated from the ideological effects of the shifting balance of forces. First of all, because communist and nationalist groups had cham- pioned the cause of women's liberation, their gender programs, grounded as they were in "Western" and "modernist" notions, could not be salvaged from the blow dealt to their political platforms. Second, the Marxist and nationalist groups of which women were members lost a base of their support to Islamist tendencies as the latter offered an alternative "authentic" space for women who could now organ- ize without having to worry about violating social norms. At a local level, as well, international and regional developments were particu- larly detrimental to Palestinian women, especially as they affected the PLO. As a punishment for its opposition to U.S. intervention, Saudi Arabia and other Gulf states cut off their petrodollar pipeline to the PLO, thus curtailing the ability of its groups, especially Arafat's Fatah, to financially subsidize their full-time militants in the occupied territories. The U.S.-led victory left the Palestinian leadership with a no-win "choice": either joining the U.S.-proposed negotiations with Israel (as an 660 GENDER & SOCIETY / December 1998 alternative to an international conference under UN auspices) or risking a loss of power in a region dominated by the United States and its allies. Combined with worsening economic conditions, the political negotiations depleted the Palestinian movement of its insurgent character and preempted any serious confrontations with the Israeli military. It was virtually impossible for the Intifada to persist as a popular mass-based resistance movement. As the Intifada declined, an emerging laid-off army of Shabab, or young men, launched a campaign of "social violence" against their own people, according to a feminist professor at Bir Zeit University. Self- assigned the role of a morality police that operated in the streets of the West Bank and Gaza, the Shabab embarked on "rooting out" what they viewed as moral decay, according to a Fatah leader in Nablus. The effect of enforcing a code of morality worsened the lot of Palestinian women. How, then, did the early 1990s open windows of opportunity for Palestinian women to mount their challenges? To answer this question, we must expand our un- derstanding of a political opportunity structure to include sociopolitical changes beyond the confines of a single state and to incorporate gender as a lens through which we can see the distinct effect of changes in the political context on women as opposed to the Palestinian movement as a whole or even the Palestinian Left. Local political changes in the West Bank, Gaza, and Israel were not conducive to the emergence of the Palestinian women's autonomous movement. Regional and inter- national developments were more favorable. First, Palestinian women deployed newly available ideological concepts such as perestroika and glasnost to frame their claims (Gamson and Meyer 1996; Snow et al. 1986; Swidler 1986); second, Pales- tinian women networked with the international women's movement (Meyer and Whittier 1995). Perestroika embodied glasnost, or openness, an essential idea that greatly facili- tated Palestinian women's challenges, especially members of leftist political organizations, who constituted a majority of activists. By challenging the rigid Len- inist conceptions of internal party life, especially democratic centralism and the uniform party line, glasnost opened spaces for Marxist women to break their silence and to criticize abuses by their leadership. Historically, Palestinian leftist organizations had publicly professed support for women's liberation and waged a vigorous campaign to recruit women. While much more forthcoming regarding women's rights than Yasser Arafat's Fatah, Palestin- ian Marxist groups, nonetheless, viewed women's participation as a constituency issue of recruitment and mobilization. Every leftist group created a women's bu- reau to expand women's membership; women members were also assigned the task of promoting their groups' political platform within the GUPW and other women's forums. In addition, because PLO Marxist groups were modeled after Lenin's con- ception of party building, they were so centralized that it was almost impossible for their women members to negotiate the fine line between democratic centralism and gender hierarchy. As a former member of the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine put it, "In most cases the two fed on each other, reinforcing our low rank Abdulhadi / PALESTINIAN WOMEN'S MOVEMENT 661 and status." Marxist women leaders practiced hierarchical, centralized, and fac- tional rules of leadership similar to their male comrades. Gorbachev's introduction of glasnost, however, created a storm among demo- cratically minded women and men. It diffused (see Tarrow 1996, 52) the Soviet Communist Party's internal debates to other Marxist-oriented groups around the world. According to a coordinator of the Women's Studies Committee of the Bisan Center for Research and Development: Of course glasnost had an effect. We do not live in an isolated cocoon; international developments affect national processes not only for the Palestinians. We are not dif- ferent from Nicaragua, or any other place in the Third World. As leftist women, we are influenced by changes in leftist thought, especially among our allies. Glasnost meant that we were not stupid or suffering mental defect. It meant that we could discuss, de- bate, and argue-debate theory and argue about criticism and self-criticism; we could criticize the structure, the hierarchy, and the ideology; we could question where we were going. In addition, the spillover (Meyer and Whittier 1995) from their networking and interaction with international feminist groups had varying effects on Palestinian women. On one hand, Palestinian women encountered different brands of femi- nism in Mexico, Copenhagen, and Nairobi. These encounters provided Palestinian women with international models of feminist struggles, which made it harder for them to accept the limited roles their leadership assigned to them. Above all, they drew on liberation strategies formulated by other Third World feminists, especially those from Nicaragua, South Africa, Vietnam, and Cuba, according to the research- ers at the Women Affairs Center in Nablus. A member of the Women's Action Committees, affiliated with the Democratic Front for the Liberation of Palestine, noted that "the dialectical linking of feminist and national agendas in Third World women's discourses, particularly those engaged in national liberation struggles, resonated with our own experiences and reinforced our determination." A sociol- ogy professor at Bir Zeit University cited writings by women from the Indian sub- continent as exemplary theoretical frameworks that analyzed and posited solutions to the multitude of obstacles women in such contexts faced. Conversely, an activist from the UPWC, affiliated with the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine, expressed her outrage over Western feminists who labeled "Third World women as nationalists, ultra-radicals, or bearers of male agendas." Especially directed at Third World women who refused to fragment their gender from national identities, this line was put forth at the Nairobi Non-Governmental Women's Conference. For example, a member of the Palestinian delegation said that Betty Friedan and Bella Abzug echoed the words of Maureen Reagan (who led the official U.S. delegation) and criticized what, in their view, constituted a "politicization of the women's movement" (see Cagatay, Grown, and Santiago 1986, 401-12). Egyptian feminist Nawal El-Saadawi said at a feminist event in New York that Friedan strongly criti- cized her "because I dared express my support for the Palestinian cause." 662 GENDER & SOCIETY / December 1998 The emergence of the Palestinian women's autonomous movement at the lowest ebb of their national cause underlines the need for a contextualized and gendered analysis of political opportunity structure. Accounting for Palestinian women's collective actions necessitated (1) transcending the boundaries of a single state and examining the regional and international sociopolitical context and (2) paying closer attention to the ways in which windows of opportunity were opened to Pales- tinian women at a time when they were blocked to their national movement. DISTINCT EXPERIENCES, MULTIPLE DISCOURSES, DIVERSE STRATEGIES The Palestinian women's autonomous movement, I argue, emerged from the combination of international, regional, and local conditions; the cumulative strug- gles of Palestinian women; the effects of networking with other women from around the world; and, of course, the Intifada. As is the case with other women's movements in the Third World (Jayawardena 1986; Mohanty, Russo, and Torres 1991), the Palestinian women's autonomous movement was not a uniform develop- ment, nor did it speak with a single voice. The roots of proliferating women's dis- courses and action-oriented strategies can be attributed to a long history of activism (see Rupp and Taylor 1987; Taylor 1989). During this history, Palestinian women generated different forms of collective action and organizational models, formed networks among themselves and with international women's groups, and created a particular culture (see Whittier 1995) of struggle and combativeness around spe- cific feminist identities (see Taylor and Whittier 1992). As Hanan Ashrawi, former Palestinian spokesperson, explained in her keynote address at the first plenary ses- sion of the Global Feminist Conference, organized in 1992 by the National Organi- zation for Women and held in Washington, D.C.: My participation in the peace process is not because of an accident of history and not as a result of tokenism or symbolic women's presence. It is rather a part of the cumula- tive achievements of Palestinian women who have struggled for so long to make themselves heard, to make their achievements felt, and to forge a place for themselves, a place of equality with the men, regardless of all the different types of oppression we suffer from. Partly because of the context in which the movement developed, and partly be- cause of the diversity in the lives and experiences of the women whose actions and interactions shaped its course, a range of discourses emerged, depending largely on the situation of different constituencies of Palestinian women. While some Pales- tinian women accommodated themselves to the sociopolitical status quo as a sur- vival strategy intended to shield them from social ostracism and political isolation, more oppositional views and action-oriented strategies were generally articulated by women whose social-economic location afforded them the ability to be more confrontational. My discussion below includes emergent accommodational femi- Abdulhadi / PALESTINIAN WOMEN'S MOVEMENT 663 nist discourses among activists who chose to struggle for women's rights from within Islamist and PLO leftist and mainstream groups. I also discuss the opposi- tional feminist discourses of activists engaged in contesting dominant views on re- production and women's bodies. I must stress that although the examples discussed here may seem to represent either extreme, the situation "on the ground," as militant women describe it, is messier for a couple of reasons. First, most women I inter- viewed expressed contradictory views that cannot be neatly framed as either ac- commodation or confrontation. And second, confrontational actions produced a normalization of previously considered taboo issues, while what might have seemed at first glance as accommodation turned out to be of extreme value to women's empowerment. The secular women I interviewed in 1993 shared a consensus that Islamist women's views and actions were accommodationist. However, such conclusion is contradicted by the visions articulated by Islamist women in my interviews. For ex- ample, every Islamist woman I interviewed in Nablus and Gaza departed from Ha- mas and strongly criticized the imposition of the Hijab on women, invoking the Muslim dictum, "there is no imposition in religion." Also, both the director of the Educational Development Center in Gaza and a leader of the Muslim Woman's So- ciety in Nablus emphatically stressed the need for women to engage in Ijtihad, or the interpretation of Islamic scripture, to contest the dominant "anti-women rulings by conservative clerics." The Gaza director, for example, said that she "refused to accept the rigid rulings" that prohibit women from physically coming in contact with men to whom they are not related by marriage or by blood. Categorically op- posed to women's seclusion in the home, this religious woman said that the exigen- cies of her work necessitated that she shook hands with men and that she did not cover her hair while hosting foreign women, contrary to conservative teachings. The Nablus leader also engaged in interpretation as she strongly disagreed with an- other member of her group who was opposed to birth control. According to the leader, Ijtihad and concern for women's health make it possible to use contracep- tives. Islamist women deviated from the strict doctrine advocated by the Islamist or- ganizations of which they were either members or supporters for two reasons. First, their worldview upheld Islam as a belief system and a way of life. Second, the emer- gence of the Palestinian women's autonomous movement made it impossible for Is- lamist women not to come up with answers to issues of women's rights initially raised by secularists. The two factors motivated these women to articulate an Islamist-shaped frame for women's liberation by incorporating different elements from their context: classical Muslim tenets, Ijtihad, and socially acceptable femi- nist practices (Snow et al. 1986). Women who recognized the limitations of the PLO political organization to which they belonged but maintained their membership may be classified as accom- modationist. How else can we reconcile the questions raised by a Fatah member who complained about the unequal distribution of her organization's resources be- tween men and women: "Why does he have a fax, a car, a car phone, an office, and a computer, while I have nothing. And on top of everything else, I have to walk to my 664 GENDER & SOCIETY / December 1998 meetings'? I am a full-time [on monthly salary] activist too!" with her insistence to maintain her membership? And what about a Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP) member who had no doubt that her group "privileges rifaq [male comrades] over rafiqat [female comrades]" but refused to resign? At first, it may seem that these women did not know what was best for them. However, both were fully aware of what they were doing. The Fatah activist explained that she felt more empowered as a member of a major organization than as an unaffiliated activist. The PFLP member, on the other hand, said that she and other women could influ- ence attitudes and policies more on the inside than on the outside, especially when employing a strategy of "constructive engagement" in which they sought to dia- logue, to debate, to pressure, and to push their male comrades toward change. Among the actions pursued was the publication of a poem entitled, "An Initial Dia- logue with our Companeros Who Do Not Wash Their Socks," written by Cuban poet Milagros Gonzales and published by the Union of Palestinian Women's Com- mittees, identified with the Popular Front. The Union employed the poem as a vehi- cle by which they sought to raise the consciousness of their comrades by encourag- ing women, on one hand, to protest their subordination while embarrassing men, on the other, by depicting their behavior as unfit for revolutionaries, especially given the high esteem with which Palestinian leftists hold the Cuban experience. On the other end of the continuum, more oppositional discourses and confronta- tional actions emerged among two "categories" of women: the more-educated middle-class women, especially those receiving their education abroad, and politi- cally independent activists whose fluency in foreign languages and freedom to travel abroad enabled them to adopt more radical feminist stands than the rest of the women's movement. Some of these women teach at Palestinian colleges and uni- versities, others are either leaders or researchers at women's centers, and a third group is made up of Palestinian feminists in Israel who view themselves as an inte- gral part of the Palestinian women's movement. Oppositional discourses focused on conceptualizing a new vision of women's bodies and social roles. While first viewed as socially confrontational and isolated, these discourses gradually pro- duced socially acceptable concrete actions. Take, for example, the difficulty in op- posing the "demographic war" argument that was deployed by Israel and adopted by the PLO. At the beginning, it was a handful of Palestinian feminists who refused to accept the perception of their bodies as reproductive vessels for future genera- tions, or "hatcheries," as former Palestinian spokeswoman, Hanan Ashrawi, put it (Hadi 1992, 16). Popularizing such a position, however, was almost impossible be- cause of the intervening sociopolitical context in which massacres, dislocation, and miserable living conditions for the Palestinians coalesced with expanding Jewish settlements and various Israeli right-wing calls for "transfer," or mass expulsion of Palestinians from their land. While recognizing these constraints, Rita Giacaman, the director of the Community Health Project at Bir Zeit University, nonetheless in- sisted on exposing the contradictory PLO stand: "The PLO cannot continue to ask women to be politically and socially involved while also demanding that they 'bear more children for the revolution.' What we need is a Palestinian population policy." Abdulhadi / PALESTINIAN WOMEN'S MOVEMENT 665 To arrive at such a policy, a public debate on women's reproductive rights was under way, emerging from the various projects in which Palestinian women were previ- ously involved, especially in the area of health care. Giacaman, in particular, cited the work of the Union of Palestinian Medical Relief Committees as exemplary: Not only did it care for Intifada victims, the Union's volunteers administered prenatal and postnatal services in the form of mobile and permanent clinics in refugee camps and distant villages, sought to lower the infant mortality rate and to improve the nu- tritional health of young children, and gave lectures in personal hygiene and repro- ductive health. As a result, past contributions by women's groups and health committees culmi- nated in the adoption of a position paper on "Palestinian Population Policies and Sustainable Development," drafted for the UN Conference on Population and De- velopment held in Cairo in 1994. During a preparatory meeting in New York in March 1994, the Palestinian NGO's Network distributed a statement to governmen- tal and nongovernmental delegates at the United Nations that linked women's health and Palestinian population policies: "Today the Palestinian women's move- ment demands active participation in the formulation as well as the implementation of future population policies, as those are bound to have a radical impact on women's lives." Another taboo issue confronting Palestinian feminists centered on the way in which women's bodies were conceptualized as symbols of familial and national honor. This construct was socially translated in the so-called crime of honor, by which 40 Palestinian women in Israel were killed by their male relatives in 1991 to save their "honor."4 To expose this practice, Palestinian women founded the Pales- tinian feminist organization El-Fanar (the lighthouse), and organized demonstra- tions in Nazareth, Haifa, and Akka. On November 4, 1991, for example, El-Fanar picketed across from the Ramleh Police station to protest the delivery of Amal Mas- seerati to her family "despite the police's prior knowledge of the danger of death that waits the young woman." Highlighting the intersection of communal patriar- chy, Israeli state policy, gender oppression, and social change, El-Fanar asserted, This police policy is not a mistake. It was and still is a premeditated Israeli official pol- icy aimed at reinforcing the patriarchal traditional system through its feudalist repre- sentatives. This sector's existence constitutes a major guarantee to maintain and eter- nally consolidate backward traditions and to prevent any positive social change in our [Palestinian] society. (1991, 2) The diversity in Palestinian women's expressions can be understood by recog- nizing that windows of opportunity and the changing political context affect differ- ent categories of Palestinian women differently, thus producing distinct manifesta- tions of the movement. Furthermore, the reason why each category deployed its own particular discourse was also linked to the constraints imposed on, and oppor- tunities opened to, each subgroup. For example, the fact that they were dealing with interpretation of the scripture imposed certain constraints on Islamist women as 666 GENDER & SOCIETY / December 1998 they confronted conservative clerics. Opportunities were relatively more available to feminist professors who were engaged in academic production. Likewise, the very nature of internal party culture placed organizational constraints on challenges to gender hierarchy made by women cadre of PLO groups. Conversely, nonaffili- ated women working in research centers faced less such obstacles in articulating their views as they interacted with other feminists, intellectuals, and with the out- side world. THE ISRAEL-PLO ACCORD AND ITS AFTERMATH The Israeli-Palestinian Accord, signed in Washington, D.C. on September 13, 1993, changed the context for Palestinian women's collective action, raising ques- tions about the prospects of their autonomous movement. Initial signs, however, were not promising. Anyone watching television or reading a newspaper could not fail to notice the masculinized makeup and the tone5 of those gathered for the White House ceremony. It is no wonder that almost all the Palestinian women I inter- viewed shared a common concern that within the context of a future Palestinian authority, their fate may not be very different from that of women in other national movements once a state apparatus is set in place. The fact that the PLO never attempted to provide an equal space for women has been amply demonstrated in this article and elsewhere (Abdo 1991; Abu Ali 1974; Al-Khalili 1977; Peteet 1991; Strum 1992). Thus, no reason exists to expect a radi- cal change in the posture of the PLO. While the previous political context was quite fluid and thus enabled women to organize, such fluidity did not exist within the con- fines of a self-rule authority, whose first priority continues to be the financing and the deployment of a police force. Another alarming sign to women was the possible alignment and/or truce between the Palestinian authority and Islamist groups. Pal- estinian women expressed well-founded fears that anytime the PLO and Hamas, for example, come to terms, a repetition of the 1989 Hijab episode becomes possible. Activists in Nablus, Ramallah, and Gaza wondered: If the PLO did not defend women during the heyday of the Intifada, would it be realistic to expect it to behave otherwise in its decline? Anti-Arafat alliances between leftist and Islamicist groups were also formed at the expense of women. An activist in Gaza, for example, nar- rated the electoral process of the Palestinian Accountants Union in Gaza: A month ago [July 1993] I was talking to women who joined the nationalist block in the Accountants' Union. I asked them, "If you have between 100 to 150 women mem- bers, how come none of you was nominated for the nationalist slate?" One said, "In- shallah [God willing] next year! The nationalists told us: 'vote for us now and we will include one or two of you next year.' " Because Hamas was there now [in 1993 elec- tions], no woman was allowed to run. In view of such gloomy prospects, how did Palestinian women go about negoti- ating their rights? One way was through intensified efforts to draft a Personal Status Abdulhadi / PALESTINIAN WOMEN'S MOVEMENT 667 Code. Beginning in 1988 after the declaration of Palestinian independence, at- tempts were made by academic feminists and by women's bureaus of the Popular Front, Democratic Front, and the Palestinian People's Party to put to practice the much-celebrated passage from the Declaration of Palestinian Independence that pledged nondiscrimination on the basis of sex, race, religion, or political affiliation. Leftist women sought to legislate a Personal Status Code that guaranteed women's rights in such matters as marriage, divorce, custody, education, employment, and decision making. As greater numbers of Palestinian women became involved in founding an autonomous movement, the discussion of a new social code was no longer limited to a select few. This was also indicative that the time for street pro- tests has passed and that new frames, forms of action, and mobilizing strategies were needed. Three distinct drafts of the Declaration of Principles of Palestinian Women's Rights, a precursor to the Code, were circulated in 1993. A majority of activists I in- terviewed said that the context in which these drafts were drawn increased their radicalism and feminist combativeness. A leader of the Union of Palestinian Women's Committees observed, "Because Palestinian women in the West Bank and Gaza suffered grave losses and waged a serious struggle against the Israeli oc- cupation, we were less willing to compromise our rights under a Palestinian rule." Thus, the document drafted by the occupied territories' branch of the GUPW was the most radical. The second was adopted by the leadership of GUPW in Tunis, while the third, adopted by a group of GUPW leaders in Jordan, represented the lowest possible common denominator on which Palestinian women and men could agree. The Tunis draft was less accommodating than the Jordan document; the women involved in producing it included a number of Palestinian leaders who ex- perienced hardship and exile, some of whom having, for political reasons, to relo- cate many times. In addition, the GUPW Secretariat in Tunis was made up of repre- sentatives of different PLO factions, including the leftist groups that had a social program for women's empowerment. And although the Palestinian leftist vision for women's liberation left a lot to be desired, it was more sympathetic to Palestinian women's concerns than the vision of Palestinian centrists. By contrast, the group drafting the document in Jordan was made up of middle-class intellectuals and GUPW leaders, whose political views did not force them to move from one place to another. Public announcement of the Declaration of Principles on Palestinian Women's Rights was constantly delayed. According to a GUPW leader in Jordan, from Sep- tember 1993 to August 1994, different political events, such as the Hebron massa- cre of 29 Palestinians by an Israeli settler in February 1994, precluded making such an announcement because the majority of the Palestinians were focused on the trag- edy. In August 1994, I traveled to Jerusalem to attend the press conference organ- ized by activists from women's NGOs at the National Palace hotel to announce the Declaration, as formulated by the GUPW in the West Bank and Gaza. Over 100 Palestinian women congregated from different parts of the West Bank and Gaza, representing different organizations, committees, centers, and intellectual con- 668 GENDER & SOCIETY / December 1998 cerns. Some women handed out leaflets and brochures. Others exchanged receipts and money. Yet others, seeking media exposure, carried photos of their relatives who were detained by the Israeli military. In short, the scene resembled a festival of achievement, the atmosphere filled with anticipation and hope. However, as the press conference got under way, the Minister for Social Affairs in the Palestinian National Authority arrived from Gaza bearing a message from Yasser Arafat and accompanied by two male bodyguards. The minister's insistence on addressing the media produced mixed reaction by the organizers. While supporters of Arafat's group were enthusiastic, the majority of the women protested: Activists who were politically affiliated with both the secular and Islamist opposition did not want to bestow legitimacy on Arafat's political negotiations by offering him a public plat- form, nor did they want to allow the Palestinian Authority to reap the results of their efforts and be portrayed by international media as an advocate of women's rights. Other politically independent women were dismayed at the usurpation of the NGOs' space by Arafat's rule. A compromise was eventually reached in which the minister was allowed to read out Arafat's message as long as she identified herself as an official of the PLO, a liberation movement, rather than the self-rule apparatus of the Palestinian Authority. However, the minister did not comply with the agree- ment, causing some leftist women to interrupt her with anti-Oslo slogans. The min- ister's bodyguards, then, assaulted two women activists from the secular opposi- tion. As a result, the press conference was suspended and no declaration was made. Thus, while social movements emerge within, or because of, a specific receptive context, political developments also intervene to subvert the smooth sailing of col- lective action (Meyer 1993). One response to such challenges of hostile environ- ment to social movements is a greater emphasis on inclusiveness and coalition building. This was the case with Palestinian women. In particular, the struggles over the Personal Status Code highlighted socioeco- nomic differences among women. Rita Giacaman, for example, suggested that class differences might arise as middle-class women strongly advocated the inclu- sion of divorce rights in the Personal Status Code. As it stands now, unless written into the Shari'a prenuptial agreement, women cannot easily initiate divorce pro- ceedings. Poor women, however, might be adversely affected because marriage for them, even a miserable one, constituted social and economic stability; extending the civil right to divorce to women may be the signal for which many men are wait- ing to escape social pressure and divorce their wives with no guarantees of security. Finally, also at issue are questions facing women's movements worldwide: with what social sectors, groups, and movements Palestinian feminists will coalesce, and what the commonalities for alliance building are. Giacaman, for example, stressed that the women's movement had to build alliances with other constituen- cies, such as the disabled. Both sectors, according to her, were "weak," while "their demands of social integration were similar." Another feminist professor suggested that women must ally themselves only with "secular forces" and underlined the im- portance of adopting new tactics, such as lobbying and advocacy. Almost every ac- tivist I interviewed drew a strong connection between the women's movement and Abdulhadi / PALESTINIAN WOMEN'S MOVEMENT 669 other challenging groups demanding greater democratization in Palestinian politi- cal affairs. The changes in the structure of political opportunity, such as the Israel-PLO Ac- cord of 1993, radically altered gender dynamics and produced new forms of Pales- tinian women's activism. On one hand, the autonomy of the Palestinian women's movement was threatened by the Palestinian National Authority's attempt to usurp independent women's action. On the other hand, the emergence of the Palestinian National Authority imposed certain constraints on Palestinian women, producing a sense of urgency and focusing much of feminist activism on advocacy, legislation, and coalition building. CONCLUSION-UNDERSTANDING SOCIAL ACTION The Palestinian women's autonomous movement emerged in the early 1990s as a result of both favorable general conditions, as well as specific moments, that led Palestinian women to begin addressing their situation within the context of gender hierarchy. Women's organizing was located on a feminist continuum, shifting, evolving, and shaped by their relationships to their sociopolitical and cultural con- text. Thus, the article is informed by and supports the feminist "paradigm of differ- ence" that recognizes the diversity in women's experiences and values the richness of the multiplicity of women's voices and actions. This theoretical notion rejects at- tempts to homogenize women, to erase differences between them, and to forcibly fit their struggles into one model of liberation. The case of Palestinian women dem- onstrates that different groups of women live different experiences and wage their struggles for emancipation according to their locations and needs. A topology of gender and social movements-neither linear nor flat-warrants a vision that takes all these complexities into consideration. Such a vision clearly requires an under- standing of the interconnectedness of gender, sexual, cultural, socioeconomic, and national oppression. Interconnectedness in social movement analysis entails seeing the links between the political context in which a movement emerges, the historical continuity of so- cial action, and the necessary conditions without which an action fails to material- ize into a movement. Social movements do not sustain themselves without organi- zations. Protest may coalesce in response to a particular incident, such as the imposition of the Hijab on Palestinian women in Gaza during the second year of the Intifada. However, had there been no organizing structure such as the various Pales- tinian women's committees and voluntary association, and an organizing mecha- nism, such as the HWC, or the GUPW, the Palestinian women's movement would not have sustained itself. In addition, Palestinian women's organizational models and practiced forms of collective action did not emerge along with their autono- mous movement; Palestinian women's organizations existed as early as 1929, thus lending support to the notion of social movement continuity. 670 GENDER & SOCIETY / December 1998 I attempted to highlight the complexities surrounding the emergent Palestinian women's autonomous movement, as well as its dynamics. The historical roots of this movement were characterized by an interplay of societal patriarchy, Israeli practices, and nationalist discourses. The Intifada, initially raising the expectations of Palestinian women, was also the context in which their grievances mounted. However, changing international, regional, and local conditions intervened at dif- ferent stages to open windows of opportunities for Palestinian women to resist the multiple oppressions to which they were subjected. Their deployment of ideologi- cal concepts such as perestroika and glasnost, as well as their networking with other women's movements around the globe, were the two immediate opportunities seized by Palestinian women to launch their movement. The changing political context, such as the Israel-PLO Accord and the emergence of the Palestinian Na- tional Authority, shaped gender dynamics in different ways. The emphasis in Pales- tinian feminist discourses and actions shifted away from resistance to the occupa- tion and grassroots activism (during the Intifada), competing views on feminism and gender awareness work (in the early 1990s) toward legislating laws, advocacy, lobbying, and coalition building. The emergence of the Palestinian women's autonomous movement, as well as its timing, can be explained, then, if we expand our understanding of the "political opportunity" both to account for developments that take place beyond the narrow confines of a single state and to seriously analyze the ways in which gender relations and dynamics shape and influence the structure of political opportunity and how the political context, in turn, shapes and influences gender relations and dynamics. The rise of Palestinian women's collective action at the lowest ebb of the Palestinian national movement points to the salience of gender in shaping political opportunity. NOTES 1. I refer to the sample survey of 22,000 Palestinians in 2,500 households conducted in Gaza, West Bank, and Arab Jerusalem, which was published in Heiberg, Ovensen, et al. (1993). The survey contains one million pieces of data and was collected in a period of three months (June 1992-August 1992) by 100 field-workers. 2. Yuval-Davis and Anthias "locate five major (although not exclusive) ways in which women tend to participate in ethnic and national processes" ( 1989, 8): as biological reproducers, reproducers of eth- nic/national boundaries, ideological reproducers of the collectivity and as cultural transmitters, as signi- fiers of ethnic/national difference, and as participants in national, economic, political, and military struggles. I have found that Palestinian women do, indeed, participate in all these processes. However, the images that were increasingly recurring in national discourses and consistently cited by the women I interviewed were the three I have outlined here. 3. Women's committees were formed by female cadres from the four major political groups-Fatah, Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine, Democratic Front for the Liberation of Palestine, and the Palestine People's Party-that enjoyed broad support in the Occupied Territories. Seeking to involve women in social and national struggles, activists recruited and mobilized women for political groups, while simultaneously providing women from conservative backgrounds with safe spaces (Scott 1990) Abdulhadi / PALESTINIAN WOMEN'S MOVEMENT 671 where they became politically and socially active without dealing with mixed-gender groups, deemed socially unacceptable by the conservatives. 4. Israeli feminist and peace activist Simona Sharoni suggests that an almost equal number of Israeli Jewish women were killed that same year by their boyfriends or husbands. Sharoni attributes violence against women to the extreme militarization of Israeli society. She further suggests that because Israeli soldiers who served in the occupied Palestinian areas were not penalized (or very slightly penalized) for violating Palestinian rights, it was impossible for them not to extend this violence to Israeli women once they came back home and took off their military uniforms (1995,120-21). 5. No women were seen on the White House lawn, which left many wondering why former Palestin- ian spokeswoman, Hanan Ashrawi, in particular, was not there. The gendered language surrounding the agreement was, perhaps, best revealed in The New York Times on September 5, 1993. Under the heading, "Mideast Accord: Behind the Secrets, Other Secrets," The New York 7imes wrote: During the discussions, a form of verbal shorthand developed in which people like Mr. Peres and Mr. Holst were called the fathers, top leaders like Mr. Rabin and Mr. Arafat became the godfa- thers, and officials at Mr. Beilin's level were the sons [emphasis added]. REFERENCES Abdo, N. 1991. 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Land before honor: Palestinian women in the Occupied Territories. New York: Monthly Review Press. Whittier, N. 1995. Feminist generations: The persistence of the radical women's movement. Philadel- phia: Temple University Press. Women's Task Force. 1991. Women's agenda for the West Bank and Gaza Strip: Initial plan of action. Ramallah, Israel: United Nations Development Program. Yuval-Davis, N., and F. Anthias. 1989. Woman-nation-state. London: Macmillan. Rabab Abdulhadi is a doctoral candidate in sociology at Yale University. Her dissertation exam- ines the construction, contestation, and transformation of Palestinian national identity. Her re- search interests include gender and generation, nationalism and women's activism, and collec- tive identity and social change. More recently, she was a United Nations Development Program (UNDP) consultant to the Women's Studies Program at Bir Zeit University, Palestine. She is a formerjournalist and a coeditor of Mobilizing Democracy: Changing US Policy in the Middle East (1991).
Journal of Soviet and Post-Soviet Politics and Society: 2016/1: Gender, Nationalism, and Citizenship in Anti-Authoritarian Protests in Belarus, Russia, and Ukraine