Source: The New York Time
On the night of Jan. 25, on the anniversary of the protest that launched Egypt’s 18-day uprising, Tahrir Square was still packed from the day’s demonstration: shrouded in an ominous haze of pollution, burning garbage, celebratory fireworks and smoke from baked sweet-potato stands.

I was navigating my way through the crush of bodies when I saw the twinkle in his eye: a kid in his late teens or early 20s with a friend headed straight for me. Suddenly, part of me knew it was coming. In retrospect, it was totally obvious.

As I passed him, I felt it: a hand on my behind, fingers clenching for a handful of flesh through jeans. It happens so often, I didn’t even turn around, didn’t yell, didn’t grab him. I just kept walking.

Sexual harassment — actually, let’s call it what it is: assault — in Egypt is not just common. It’s an epidemic. It inhabits every space in this society, from back alleys to the birthplace of the newest chapter of Egyptian history. A 2008 study by the Egyptian Center for Women’s Rights found that 98 percent of foreign female visitors and 83 percent of Egyptian women have experienced sexual harassment. Sixty-two percent of men admitted to harassing women, while 53 percent blame women for “bringing it on.”

There’s a part of me that knows I was ‘‘asking for it’’ that night because I was walking alone at 9 o’clock in a dark, crowded place. Just like I ask for it in broad daylight — because I’m a breathing member of the female gender. I’m tired of it, and so are Egyptian women.

What happened to me was so minor compared to what happens to others. That night in the square another Western female was seriously assaulted: based on a video circulating on the Internet, it appears the woman was mobbed and grabbed; unconfirmed Twitter reports say her clothes were torn and she was taken away by an ambulance. Two days later, another Western woman was attacked. Social media sites exploded with rage and chagrin.

The usual excuses were rolled out for those attacks. I saw them posted on Twitter and I heard from an acquaintance: They’re kids, it’s a mob mentality. Please know, these defenders say, Egyptians are poor, the economy is in a tailspin, people don’t have enough money for a dowry, so they can’t get married. They are frustrated and act out.

And there was the widespread theory that the perpetrators were state security plants, bent on destabilizing the revolution and intimidating women from joining the protests. I don’t buy it.

Egypt can do better. It already has. For the 18 days of protest last year, for me, Tahrir Square was a harassment-free zone. I noticed it, everyone did. But as soon as President Hosni Mubarak stepped down, the unity ended and the harassment returned.

Sexual harassment is not just a problem on the country’s streets; it’s even been a government policy. Samira Ibrahim, a 25-year-old marketing manager, recently began a court case against Egypt’s military rulers for subjecting her and other female detainees to forced “virginity tests.” Ibrahim was arrested at a Tahrir Square protest on March 9 and taken to a military base, where she was told to strip her clothes and lie down for inspection. It’s revolting.

It’s not just about a government or thugs preventing women from joining protests. And it’s not just about the powerless, poverty-stricken, sexually-frustrated man exerting power over someone even less powerful to feel some amount of authority. It’s about the complete attempt to oppress women and dismiss their voices.

Egyptian women are fighting back. After an anonymous woman was beaten and stripped by military police clearing Tahrir Square in late December, thousands of women marched for their rights to harassment-free space. They were protected by a human cordon of men, moving with them as they marched. It was beautiful, but even in the thousands, women needed protection. There are also Web sites to report harassment and plenty of Egyptian women have taken it upon themselves to champion the cause.

At its heart, Egypt is a patriarchal society. (For example, of 498 elected members of the new Parliament, 9 are women.) It’s going to take a societal shift to put a complete end to the excuses I’ve been hearing.

Last year, Egyptians brought down a three-decade-long dictatorship. They created a space where women were safe, where they chanted louder. The country — both men and women — need to harness that power and do it again everywhere.

 

By SARAH A. TOPOL

 

• Egypt