Is freedom of speech a lie?
Recent world events have made me question whether freedom of speech exists anywhere in the world
Welcome back to ‘Eyb, my newsletter in which I speak frankly and openly about topics that growing up as a young Arab woman I was told were “shameful” or ‘eyb. I also share what I am working on, as well as what to read, listen to, and watch.
It’s been a while since I last dropped a newsletter - I spent most of April and the entire month of May being ill, but I am on the mend!
I was born and grew up in London, and in those first fourteen and a half years I spent there, it was always drilled into us at school and in mainstream media that freedom of speech was one of the things that made the United Kingdom “unique” and, according to the media, a “better” and “safer” place to live in than other places in the world.
I grew up in a community where some of my dad’s friends had escaped Egypt and were now living in exile due to their political affiliations, and learned at a young age that my father’s homeland was a country where freedom of speech did not exist, and until today, something as simple as a Tik Tok video or social media post can land you in prison for years.
When I moved to Qatar in the early noughties I soon came to realise that there was little to no freedom of speech there either, nor in the majority of countries in the Middle East and North Africa, although it varied from country to country. When I was at the state university there, there were students who would report back to the administration on anything lecturers said that they deemed critical of the country or not in line with the country’s customs and traditions. Two of my lecturers had their contracts terminated because of this.
During my second year of university, my peers and I went to a conference organised by the government, and one of the panels was about the advancement of women in society and the increasing number of women taking on leadership positions. Both I and a couple of my classmates spoke during the Q&A session, and I asked the panelists whether they really thought that things had advanced for women if they still needed a male guardian’s permission in order to take on that leadership role. We found out a few days later from our dean that someone in the audience who worked for the government had complained about us to our university president for being “shameless.” I recall this incident in my book Hijab and Red Lipstick.
I went on to know there was no freedom of speech nor press when I worked as a freelance journalist after graduating from university. Editors asked me to stay away from writing anything social or political - they simply wouldn’t publish such pieces - and to focus on fashion, beauty, and luxury lifestyle.
This lingering fear of the possible consequences from writing or speaking openly about my experiences in Qatar meant that I did not even mention the name of the country in my book - I just called it the Gulf, which in turn resulted in some criticism from readers, and perhaps rightly so, as my intention was not to generalise the entire region (although the legal system, culture, customs and traditions, and stances when it comes to topics like migrant workers, women’s rights etc. are similar).
In the last couple of years I have seen the country insist that it does have freedom of speech and press, but recent events have proved otherwise. A contact of mine in Doha recently almost got into serious trouble when the cyber police informed her father that she was talking openly about her allyship with the LGBTQ+ community on social media, and a few weeks ago Malcom Bidali, a Kenyan security guard who used his social media platform @NoahArticulates to share his experiences and the experiences of other migrant workers, was arrested and detained for weeks and was charged with working with a foreign agent, and spreading misinformation about Qatar, a bogus charge that Gulf countries often use against human rights activists who are vocal about social injustices.
But freedom of speech doesn’t really exist here in the UK either - and the recent events in Palestine have proved this. Seeing the number of schoolkids who have been screamed at by teachers or suspended from school for talking about what has been happening in Palestine openly, or for simply saying “Free Palestine” with PREVENT being called into action, suggests that here in the UK the state believes that speaking about Palestine at school or college means you are “showing signs of radicalisation,” and simply wearing a Palestinian flag on an item of clothing or a keffiyeh is being equated with anti-Semitism, so the reality is there is no real freedom of speech anywhere.
What I’ve been working on
I featured in interfaith relations expert and spiritual abuse campaigner Maryyum Mehmood’s Speak to SAVE (Spiritual Abuse and Violence Eradication) video series, speaking about the mental health impact of spiritual abuse within the household. Watch my episode here.
I was interviewed by Peacemindedly about my book Hijab and Red Lipstick and we spoke about the guardianship system, mental health awareness, getting published, and this newsletter! Listen to the podcast here.
I also spoke to journalist Anmol Irfan for her excellent piece on the Muslim feminist authors who write for the world, and not for the West’s approval or gaze in Muslim Feminists are not interested in the white woman’s gaze.
What I’ve been writing
One thing that I’ve noticed many people saying on social media is that they feel they do not know much about Palestine or its history (although this is still not an excuse for not standing up against the atrocities perpetrated against Palestinians by the Israeli Occupation Forces). Reading is a great place to get started on Palestine’s history and the history of occupation. I rounded up ten brilliant books written by Palestinan authors for The New Arab which you can check out here.
What I’ve been watching
Image from YouTube
If you have been meaning to watch comedy series We Are Lady Parts but not got round to it yet, I hope I can convince you to get started! We Are Lady Parts is a refreshing, quirky, and fantastically funny 6-part comedy series written by Nida Manzoor, about an all-woman Muslim punk rock band. It’s the series I wish I had been available growing up, with female Muslim characters I wish I had as friends. The characters neither fit Western media’s shitty depictions and stereotypes of Muslim women, nor do they fit the “perfect Muslim woman” stereotype either. Trying their best to get a record deal, these are five women who are uniquely themselves while navigating people who try to get them to conform to a certain way of being within the Muslim community, or those outside the community who try to project their Islamophobic assumptions onto them. My sentiments are echoed by Mariam Khan who wrote about it here, as well as Mona El Tahawy in her essay here.
All episodes are available to stream on All 4.
What I’ve been listening to
I’ve been listening to author of The Greater Freedom and journalist Alya Mooro’s excellent podcast Talk of Shame. Each episode Mooro speaks to a fellow Arab woman discussing the concept of shame, how it manifests in our communities both within Arab countries and in the diaspora, and the effects it has on us. If like me you were brought up on the word ‘eyb, you will find yourself screaming YES during each episode. Available to stream on Spotify, Apple Podcasts and Google Podcasts.
This newsletter is free, but you can show your support by buying my semi-autobiographical tale of life as a young woman trying to stand up for herself while living in the Gulf Hijab and Red Lipstick or by telling a friend about it, which last month was in Amazon’s Top 20 Muslim YA books, yay! Available online from Amazon, Waterstones, and Hashtag Press, or, ask your local independent bookshop to order it in for you!