Gender Equality: A Lebanese Economic and Political Necessity
Lebanon’s modern history has been defined by its unique and complex confessional system, which has attempted – and failed, many times – to balance the often-conflicting goals of various religious sects. Yet in a country where so much time has been spent in the pursuit of a method that satisfies the diverse interests of these groups, the continuing lack of gender inequality is a national shame.
While the security crisis on Lebanon’s borders and within its cities remains the country’s most pressing issue, the lack of empowerment for Lebanon’s girls and women is just one of the many institutional handicaps to growth once the crisis has been resolved. Lebanese may largely revel in their common distinction as one of the most tolerant, progressive societies in the Middle East, yet this image begins to crumble when faced with the facts: 3% of seats in Lebanon’s national parliament are held by women, a distinction which puts the country in the bottom 15 of states worldwide and below such oppressive societies as Afghanistan and Saudi Arabia. Women currently hold no ministerial positions, and the country has fallen almost 20 places in world equality rankings since 2010 (from an already shameful 116th to an abysmal 135th). According to an infographic published by the Daily Star, Lebanese women earn on average less than a third of what their male counterparts can expect to make annually, while only 26% of women participate in the labor force – another disturbing statistic that puts Lebanon behind a whopping 134 other countries. Even on metrics of education, Lebanon is failing its women: 97% of boys are enrolled in primary school, compared to 90% of girls (128th in the world).
It is no secret that female empowerment is one of the most instrumental motivators of economic growth as well as a sign of a developed, stable nation. According to the public policy think tank Chatham House, only oil-rich Oman, Bahrain, and Saudi Arabia have managed to achieve a GDP per capita of over $10,000 without a ratio of girls to boys in primary education of more than 90%. Well-educated women add to the nation’s labor force, spur economic growth and foster lower rates of child mortality and illiteracy.
With economic and educational empowerment comes increased political participation. Since independence, Lebanon’s future has quite often been dictated by the decisions of a few families who – while claiming to represent the larger communities from which they hail – have been content to foster an almost feudal line of patrilineal succession. While Lebanese as a whole have long been fed up with the rampant nepotism within their government, there remains an entire half of the population that has been denied a chance at righting the wrongs of their predecessors. This must change. The Old Boys of Lebanese politics have had decades to improve the nation, and it is now past time to let more fresh voices into the political arena.
It is important to not dwell solely on Lebanon’s faults in the matter of gender equality. While more women may sit in the Afghani and Saudi parliaments, both nations are far and away more sexist and unequal than Lebanese society. Women within Lebanon need not fear modesty police or imprisonment for driving a car. Whether they wear a hijab or not, they are free to embrace Western styles, and they do, fueling a large beautification industry that revolves around expensive makeups and plastic surgeries.
Yet in the end, much of this tolerance only runs surface deep. Women who are permitted to wear whatever they would like yet who cannot find a well-paying job with which to comfortably support themselves are still living in an oppressive, sexist environment. One of Lebanon’s many national ironies is that the most successful Lebanese are often expats who have capitalized on opportunities not available in their birth country. Amal Clooney (née Alamuddin), a brilliant international lawyer whose clients have included Julian Assange and Yulia Timoshenko, was forced to flee Beirut for London in 1980, at the age of two, due to the raging civil war. It is a shame that her achievements may never have been possible if she had grown up in her native country. In pushing for gender equality, the Lebanese would do well to remember not only the girls currently growing up within the country, but all the women throughout the decades who were denied similar life-changing opportunities simply due to their gender.
Claude Khalife
Lebanon’s modern history has been defined by its unique and complex confessional system, which has attempted – and failed, many times – to balance the often-conflicting goals of various religious sects. Yet in a country where so much time has been spent in the pursuit of a method that satisfies the diverse interests of these groups, the continuing lack of gender inequality is a national shame.
While the security crisis on Lebanon’s borders and within its cities remains the country’s most pressing issue, the lack of empowerment for Lebanon’s girls and women is just one of the many institutional handicaps to growth once the crisis has been resolved. Lebanese may largely revel in their common distinction as one of the most tolerant, progressive societies in the Middle East, yet this image begins to crumble when faced with the facts: 3% of seats in Lebanon’s national parliament are held by women, a distinction which puts the country in the bottom 15 of states worldwide and below such oppressive societies as Afghanistan and Saudi Arabia. Women currently hold no ministerial positions, and the country has fallen almost 20 places in world equality rankings since 2010 (from an already shameful 116th to an abysmal 135th). According to an infographic published by the Daily Star, Lebanese women earn on average less than a third of what their male counterparts can expect to make annually, while only 26% of women participate in the labor force – another disturbing statistic that puts Lebanon behind a whopping 134 other countries. Even on metrics of education, Lebanon is failing its women: 97% of boys are enrolled in primary school, compared to 90% of girls (128th in the world).
It is no secret that female empowerment is one of the most instrumental motivators of economic growth as well as a sign of a developed, stable nation. According to the public policy think tank Chatham House, only oil-rich Oman, Bahrain, and Saudi Arabia have managed to achieve a GDP per capita of over $10,000 without a ratio of girls to boys in primary education of more than 90%. Well-educated women add to the nation’s labor force, spur economic growth and foster lower rates of child mortality and illiteracy.
With economic and educational empowerment comes increased political participation. Since independence, Lebanon’s future has quite often been dictated by the decisions of a few families who – while claiming to represent the larger communities from which they hail – have been content to foster an almost feudal line of patrilineal succession. While Lebanese as a whole have long been fed up with the rampant nepotism within their government, there remains an entire half of the population that has been denied a chance at righting the wrongs of their predecessors. This must change. The Old Boys of Lebanese politics have had decades to improve the nation, and it is now past time to let more fresh voices into the political arena.
It is important to not dwell solely on Lebanon’s faults in the matter of gender equality. While more women may sit in the Afghani and Saudi parliaments, both nations are far and away more sexist and unequal than Lebanese society. Women within Lebanon need not fear modesty police or imprisonment for driving a car. Whether they wear a hijab or not, they are free to embrace Western styles, and they do, fueling a large beautification industry that revolves around expensive makeups and plastic surgeries.
Yet in the end, much of this tolerance only runs surface deep. Women who are permitted to wear whatever they would like yet who cannot find a well-paying job with which to comfortably support themselves are still living in an oppressive, sexist environment. One of Lebanon’s many national ironies is that the most successful Lebanese are often expats who have capitalized on opportunities not available in their birth country. Amal Clooney (née Alamuddin), a brilliant international lawyer whose clients have included Julian Assange and Yulia Timoshenko, was forced to flee Beirut for London in 1980, at the age of two, due to the raging civil war. It is a shame that her achievements may never have been possible if she had grown up in her native country. In pushing for gender equality, the Lebanese would do well to remember not only the girls currently growing up within the country, but all the women throughout the decades who were denied similar life-changing opportunities simply due to their gender.
Claude Khalife