Category: Guest Contributors

The status of women in Maldivian society

by H Abdulghafoor

He took a mouthful of water and sprayed her face with his spit – at close range.

That is the action of the male Parliamentary Group (PG) Leader of the governing Progressive Party of Maldives (PPM) against the female Deputy Leader of the opposition Maldivian Democratic Party (MDP), in the People’s Majlis of the Maldives on 24 February 2016.

The incident took place during a formal meeting of the Majlis that was broadcast live to the public.

This image exemplifies the condition of men and their attitude towards women in the current social context of the Maldives.

She reacted instinctively by taking a nearby glass of water and throwing it in his face. In that split second, the expression on his face showed his realisation that he had been brought down to the ground by a woman, in front of his male colleagues in the male dominated Majlis, where only 5 of the 85 members are women. That momentary come-down can be interpreted as a small victory for any woman degraded and attacked by a man in such a way.

Personal beliefs play a critical role in what people choose to do, or not do. Such beliefs shape their behaviour towards others. As a commentator in a news article about the incident responded – “How would Nihan react to a woman who argued with him if there were no cameras around? …. I feel sorry for his wife”. This is a valid point because the behaviour of men towards women in the public arena is very likely a reflection of attitudes and actions that may be practised in their private lives.

A strong perception of the inherently unequal status of men and women in Maldivian society is well established through the age-old system of patriarchy. It is also solidified through a questionable, perceived religious position that requires the elevation of men to a higher place from where they may rule over the lives of women. Religious sermons have provided a variety of explanations to uphold such a position. It will not do justice to the multiplicity of messages the Friday Sermon provides if one or two points are randomly taken. Nevertheless, it is useful for the purpose of this discussion, to try and provide a relevant and notable example. On 22 January 2016, the Friday Sermon said :

Muslim brothers! The husband is the person who has the highest level of responsibility to look after the family. He has the highest responsibility on all matters of the family. The husband has the highest responsibility to look after his wife. On matters relating to children too, the highest responsibility falls on the husband. [unofficial translation]

Notable also is the generally overlooked fact that the Friday sermon consistently addresses a male audience of “brothers”. In the Maldives where the State religion is Islam, the contents of the Friday sermon is produced and disseminated nationally by the government.

The extent to which men uphold the above State endorsed, perceived religious ideal is questionable. The lived reality of Maldives is that the country has the highest rate of female headed households in the world at 47% and has held the dubious record of the highest divorce rate in the world. The common practice of triple talaq (or verbal triple divorce) by the husband was only outlawed by the introduction of the Family Act in 2000, alongside the incomplete arrangement to partially establish the age of marriage at 18 years. Granted, these are developments towards a greater degree of social responsibility and accountability within the family. However, the degree to which they help to achieve stability and peace in the family and beyond, is open to debate in the prevailing context.

Two days prior to the spitting incident, on 22 February 2016, the Peoples’ Majlis held its first discussion on the newly submitted, first ever draft legislation on gender equality in the Maldives. The gender equality law (GEL) was submitted to the Majlis by Asma Rasheed, the only female MP in the Majlis representing the majority party PPM. As the PG group leader, MP Nihan endorsed the GEL with supportive fervour on the Majlis floor. That endorsement and his retrograde public behaviour towards his female colleague just two days later, was a moment which showed the public that a mask of deep hypocrisy had slipped and exposed what lay behind.

On 11 March 2015, allegations emerged from MDP MP Rozaina Adam that PPM MP Riyaz Rasheed had threatened to rape her and this threat was reported by MDP as being directed at both MP Rozaina and MP Mariya Didi, inside the parliament’s chambers. According to MP Rozaina, formal complaints were submitted to the Speaker of the People’s Majlis about these threats in March 2015, and also the recent attack against her by MP Nihan in February 2016. To date, she informs that she has received no responses to either of these serious complaints. There are no reports of any investigation or disciplinary measures being taken against these parliamentarians for such harassment of female colleagues in the workplace, in a public institution like the parliament.

During the parliamentary discussion of the GEL on 22 February, MP Mariya Didi provided some telling insights into the general attitude of male MPs towards female colleagues. She said –

We see how female members are treated in this Majlis. Many a day, we see inside this Majlis, the only female MP in PPM’s parliamentary group coming to us after their PG meeting, with tears pouring from her eyes because of the way she is spoken to, and because she is not allowed the opportunity by her party to say what she wants. These are things that are happening before our eyes. [unofficial translation]

Harassment of women in the workplace is a particularly neglected area of continuing gender-based oppression in the Maldives. It is a clear sign of human under-development, and a serious absence of a civilising force within the education, human resource development and employment sectors.

The absence of accountability is one of the fundamental gaps that maintain this damaging status quo. An important high profile case in point is that of workplace harassment allegations made against the former President of the Civil Service Commission (CSC), Mr Mohamed Fahmy Hassan. The following summary of events from May 2012 to November 2015 tells a story of patriarchal impunity.

In the above case, a female junior employee made the unusually bold move to report a case of sexual harassment against her by a senior male employee of the State, in a position of great responsibility and authority. The performance of the State machinery to deliver justice can be seen in the unfolding events related to the case. One woman’s plight to seek redress for an injustice suffered had arguably resulted in another injustice to the public purse and the public psyche. Where can a woman go in the Maldives, to seek redress to an injustice done against her? The answer is clear. Nowhere.

Fahmy resign

Women’s protest calling to remove Fahmy from office – 2012. Placard says: “A sexual harasser in charge of 27,000 employees – oh my God!”

Today is International Women’s Day.

Women’s rights advocates around the globe are working in solidarity to push humanity towards the one common goal for equality of the sexes. They continue the long and slow uphill struggle to fight patriarchy, the insidious yet visible elephant in the room of human progress, which fights back to deny women their rightful place as equals alongside men.

In the Maldives, advocates work to find and establish spaces for women in the above described situation where the odds are stacked firmly against women. They work in a situation where a man considers it permissible to spit in the face of his female colleague in his workplace which happens to be the country’s parliament. They work in a situation where a male MP can threaten to rape his female colleague, without scrutiny or consequence. They work in a situation where the efforts of the brave woman who makes a stand against sexual harassment in her workplace are washed away by the power of patriarchal “brotherhood”.

Yet, what is assured on this International Women’s Day is that their work will not be stalled or interrupted. The GEL will be fought for and won through the efforts of the rights-minded women and men who work towards this cause, with the same determination that achieved the country’s first Domestic Violence Prevention Act back in 2012. The spirit and commitment which brought the random act of male triple talaq to an end, through the Family Act 2000 is evidently alive and well. These efforts will be supported by the rights-minded citizens who seek the establishment of a more just society. A society in which such legislation will one day bring relief and redress against the excesses, injustices and impunity of the patriarchal “brotherhood”.

Gender equality is a fundamental issue of justice.

It is an issue of social stability, meaningful human coexistence, unity and peace.

To perpetuate inequality and injustice on the basis of one’s sex, which is in fact an accident of birth, is an affront and indignity to human intellect in the 21st century.

Gender equality is the rights way ahead.

It may be the road less travelled, but the one that must be taken.

Histories of Maldives

by Daniel Bosley

The Maldives is barely visible on most maps. Google it. By the time you’ve focused in on the tiny islands, the rest of the world is practically invisible. This same phenomenon can be observed when looking at Maldivian history. When you get right down to the sea-level of current affairs in the archipelago, outside events seem distant and far away.

This is no doubt very useful for the many tourists who come to relax in the country’s luxury resorts. It has also been of great use to the country’s leaders, who have traditionally been able to take advantage of the lack of outside (objective) interest in the tiny nation’s history, in order to try to maintain control over citizens in the present.

Those studying the Maldives can easily lose perspective, making it hard to understand the nation’s place in alternative histories. While political leaders repeat historical claims to complete autonomy and sovereignty, economic commentators paradoxically point out how vulnerable the nation is to external shocks. But just such a perspective is needed to better understand the reality of a small nation adrift on the currents of global history.

Anyone looking into the history of the isles will soon come across two standout stories. Firstly, the Rannamari and the conversion to Islam, and secondly, the 15-year Portuguese occupation in the 16th century.

It is very difficult to obtain much factual information about much of Maldivian history, and both of these tales are lacking in detail. Yet they have been passed on from generation to generation more readily than any others. Why?

As with most histories, these tales have served a purpose for Maldivian leaders for centuries, reminding citizens that, firstly, they live in a pious Islamic nation, and secondly, that they have a proud history of independence. These creation myths are based on  varying degrees of  fact, and have undoubtedly been manipulated in order to better serve aims of rulers.

Indeed, President Abdulla Yameen just last week called upon citizens to learn lessons from the country’s ‘history’ as he continually rails against foreign ‘interference’. That he does so while inaugurating foreign funded projects and presiding over an economy kept afloat by foreign tourists suggests the lessons of history are not so straightforward.

Historical role-play

The Rannamari story is particularly interesting when studying history as it marks the socially acceptable starting point for the modern country’s story, a point from which remnants of the nation’s Buddhist origins can continue to be suppressed.

The conversion story itself has become wrapped up in the hagiographic proselytising of Abu Barakat. But while his tale has served the purposes of local leaders constructing their versions of Maldivian history, it also forms part of a wider history of Arabic trade and empire in the region. Laudable pragmatism is too often replaced by reductive jingoism.

Muslim entrepreneurs had long since established thriving communities on the west coast of India, and frequent contact with Maldivians undoubtedly made the unilateral decision of Koimala to convert the nation a lucrative one. Indeed, to smudge the reality of events by reducing the conversion to an encounter with a sea-monster does a disservice both to the king and to the powerful Ummah built upon the teachings of Mohammed.

The importance of perspective and symbolism can be seen again in the Portuguese colonisation story, which continues to form a powerful part of national identity and yet has barely left a trace in the Portuguese archives.

While the fabulous exploits of Bodu Thakurufaanu and his brothers make for a great independence story, those who use it today fail to acknowledge that both the Portuguese and the European powers that followed had little real interest in the isles beyond their strategic importance.

After the Portuguese left, the Dutch and the British were happy to accept tributes from Malé via Sri Lanka, with no desire to physically occupy an archipelago which had few resources and many mosquitoes. This is also indicated in the 80-year British protectorate agreement, which proved mutually beneficial (depending on your history). A more fitting conclusion to the history of foreign influence might be the importance of a benign patron.

Rather than it’s significance to colonial historians, the impact of RAF Gan might prove of greater interest to social historians for the transformative impact it had in Addu Atoll. As the British utilised the geographic importance of the southernmost archipelago, thousands of nearby islanders took advantage of the economic effects.

With the archipelago’s population growing by 400 percent during the Brits’ 30-year stay, the unintentional effect of the occupation was to create an economic power base to rival that of Male’ for the first time. The political effects were soon seen in the breakaway Suvadive Republic.

It can be argued that the political legacy of this social history stretches as far as the formation of the Maldivian Democratic Party and the subsequent transition to multiparty democracy. Ask a Malé person and an Adduan for the history of the British in the Maldives and you will receive two very different answers.

As the British empire faded following World War II, the Maldives attracted the attention of a newly resurgent Japan, no doubt attracted by the country’s fertile fishing grounds, drawing the archipelago into the history of postwar Japan (and its cuisine). This small role for the island nation brought social changes far greater than any introduced by the British, with the mechanisation of vessels and refrigerated ships changing Dhivehi society forever.

During the 70s the Maldives also benefitted from world-changing advances in commercial aviation, making international tourism a viable option for the newly independent nation. The arrival of the jet engine – a product of a global conflict that at the time had contributed to disease and famine in the Maldives – would later bring untold riches to the nation.

History Today

Indeed, an understanding of the Maldives’ place in broader historical trends can also lend insight into current relationships.

The Arabisation of Dhivehi society – written about at length by Xavier Romero-Frias – undoubtedly brings the Maldives into the history of the Middle East’s oil-monarchies. Saudi soft power continues to exert a huge influence in the Maldives, as generations of scholars have been trained in Wahhabi doctrine on Saudi petro-dollars.

The outside world’s interest in the exploits of Maldivian jihadis indicates the modern historical currents in which the Maldives finds itself sailing. The ongoing tension between Islam and the West (see histories of the Middle East and the US post – Cold War hegemonic moment) depicts a specific role for the island nation, with ‘radicals in paradise’ finding a predictably popular niche in western media outlets.

Due to its geographical importance, the Maldives also continues to play an important part in global political affairs, with an economically emboldened Chinese nation sending its civil engineers and its middle class tourists to the pristine isles with growing regularity. A glance back at history would suggest that Chinese interest mirrors that of the British, seeing the archipelago as a useful Plan B should their interests in Sri Lanka fail.

While the Maldives is only a small player in Chinese affairs, the middle kingdom’s influence in the Maldives looks likely to have a crucial impact on the history of Maldivian democracy, providing the diplomatic and financial outlet that President Maumoon Abdul Gayoom didn’t have when western Tsunami aid came with strings attached a decade earlier.

Just as the Maldives has always been influenced by global currents, it will continue to be affected by outside forces largely beyond its control. The opening up of Iran, the hounding of traditional global tax havens, tensions in the South China sea potentially affecting global shipping lanes, Saudi’s preoccupation with declining oil revenue and domestic reforms and, of course, climate change: any one of these historical trends could have far-reaching effects on the tiny island nation.

Wise leaders and well-informed citizens will take care to understand histories, and the Maldives’ own place within them, in order to better control its future. Anyone can create a history. It’s a trick played often by politicians to justify their actions, often to promote xenophobic isolationism and scaremongering.

But great leaders will be remembered for using the winds of global change to enhance the position of their people, rather than flounder on foreign currents.

The Maldives is a glittering pearl in the global tableau of history. By virtue of its location and relative vulnerability, it has always been a globalised nation liable to be transformed by far away events at a moment’s notice.

Understanding the Maldives’ place in wider global events can empower citizens’ to control their future instead of only providing useful narratives for leaders who would belittle the past.

Photograph: From Images of Maldives Past

Reflections on the Maldivian democracy

Maldives Sunset

by Daniel Bosley

Maldivian democracy. Democracy in the middle of the Indian Ocean. It’s unique. 360,000 people. 90,000 sq km. 187 inhabited islands. Coconuts. Coral reefs. Transmitting the desires and needs of the people to their elected officials in this environment? It’s difficult.

The features of the Maldives’ recent democratic endeavours have also been unusual in many ways. Unusual in that they have been televised and written about across the world. Unusual in that massive increases in global tourism and the age of digital media have raised the profile. For most who have read about the problems facing ‘that place that their friend went to on holiday that one time’, it is all very new.

For half of the Maldives too, the explosion of politics in the past decade must seem unprecedented after three decades of calm dictatorship (supplemented by the occasional enhanced interrogation). Those under the age of 40 will be too young to remember any similar upheavals.

Looking at the documented history of the country, it is clear many of the modern characteristics of its politics are new. Most noticeably, political violence is now endemic, compared to just a few short years ago when any act of violence would set tongues wagging in many mouths in many islands (there are reports that any angry outbursts in the past would prompt police intervention).

The answer to why these traits have occurred is probably the same as that which solves 9 out of every 10 such puzzles. Money. These days, there’s a lot more of it in the archipelago. Tourist arrival statistics now have 7 figures and resorts have 7 stars.

The stakes are higher, but is the game all that different? Are the basic problems facing Maldivian democracy new?

Foreign media accounts of the recent political turmoil are usually fairly superficial, with few even willing to look back as far as the failure to secure judicial independence post-2008 as the key to the current chapter of ‘_____ in Paradise’. Insert the words ‘judicial independence’ in there and then try and sell it; the likelihood of a successful pitch is about the same as any foreign outlet having the time or resources to look any further into the national context.

But contrary to the necessary reductivism of international coverage, many of the current traits have been seen before. The fact that the average Sultan’s reign lasted just 8 and a half years suggests that messy power transfers are not a modern phenomena. Those observing through aftermath of the country’s first written constitutions in the 1930s noted that new institutions were quickly dominated by a tiny and nepotistic elite, while a number of leaders were soon hounded out of politics (and the country) – accused of moving forward too fast for the general population.

For the lazy analyst, the above details could be copied and pasted into a text discussing recent travails, with cries of nepotism and oligarchy following the spectacular ending of President Mohamed Nasheed’s presidency, which had been deemed too liberal by another decidedly undemocratic rent-a-mob.

Additionally, the political polarisation that has split the country down the middle in the age of multi-party politics has been seen before. ‘Unique’ anecdotal cases such as the physical division of islands along party lines in recent times, can be found frequently in more historical accounts. Feuding between wards, families, and towns are frequently cited as having inspired ‘fanditha’ attacks, arson, and even a dividing trench dug across one island. Attempts in the 60s to have elected atoll chiefs were short-lived due to the local factionalism the process exacerbated.

Despite the seemingly idyllic surrounds, people in the islands have the same need as all people to create an identity by finding an ‘other’ to push against. In a country with little or no cultural, ethnic, or religious heterogeneity (and, thankfully, with little propensity for violence), it is hardly surprising that people will (ab)use politics to satisfy these human egotistical urges.

But at heart, many (particularly older) Maldivians seem to know that they are watching a reboot rather than a sequel to the political drama, and while international headlines wail about new crises, most locals roll their eyes in apathy, or let out an exasperated chuckle. Despite taking part in the soap opera – to alleviate boredom as much as anything – they know that current cast members are interchangeable. They know that most of the root causes will not suddenly disappear by simply sacking the lead actor (although using a different talent agency occasionally might be a good thing).

That a progressive young leader is transformed into a curmudgeonly despot is not a new story anywhere, and the recent transformation of VP Adheeb from a reportedly mild-mannered young man to the country’s favourite scapegoat begs more questions about the system than the individuals in it (Dr Jameel’s recent transformation may yet be attributed to amnesia…or maybe an evil twin).

Questions and answers

As the Maldives’ political landscape looks set to continue its monotonous cycle of purge and coup, it will require new thinking to redirect the political currents that traditionally move jobs, privilege, and land from one side of the island to another with each new set of leaders. It is these predictable beyfulhun monsoons that create grasping kleptocrats and dictators.

Both leaders and voters should be encouraged to think beyond short-term (corruption, political prisoners) and medium-term problems (judicial independence) to long-term (democratic consolidation, rule of law, stability) issues in order to break the country out of a pattern that is becoming too harmful to continue.

Engaging democratic citizens will not make great headlines (‘Engaging voters in Paradise’, anyone?). It is a slow process that must start with providing people adequate representation, and an ability for introspective thinking about themselves, their community and their leaders; national pride without nationalist xenophobia, loyalty without patriarchy, public service without quid pro quo.

Any journalist working in the Maldives should also aspire to assist this process, building trust and making information accessible for the analysis of the individual reader – not telling them what to think by funneling facts and manipulating the narrative.

It is at the level of political engagement that Maldivian democracy faces particular systemic problems. Many people simply don’t take political science seriously for the same reason anti-intellectualism exists in working class communities around the world; they have not been convinced of the long term effect politics has on their lives. The rapid transition from small communities of fishermen to citizens of a modern democratic nation is particularly tough for these reasons.

In order to draw people into politics and create a thriving democracy, more politicians must try to get into the heads of the people they represent (without moving the furniture about while they’re in there). Short term populism (and bribes) may win a vote, but only a long term vision of people’s wants, hopes, and needs as Maldivians will bring long term stability that leaders crave and the country needs. Indeed, with the changes the society has undergone in recent decades, such an appraisal of the nation is desperately needed.

Until people are truly engaged, blatantly illegal activity by those in office and brazen kleptocracy will not result in the groundswell of outrage many expect. Apathy is the enemy of accountability. Additionally, constantly lobbying foreigners to force through changes from the outside is a poor substitute for home-grown remedies.

A disengaged electorate is made worse by the continuing dominance of a few patriarchs, who in turn have always danced to the beat of bodu beru from Male’. Disillusionment with distant leaders is not unique to the Maldives, but the physical disconnect between Malé and the atolls has always been extreme.

The current gap between politicians and those they claim to represent, however, will not foster the type of engagement upon which a democratic culture can flourish. Presidents in the elite bubble continue to buy votes and rent crowds while convincing themselves that they are very popular (a questionable method of polling); literally dragging their supporters along rather than asking them to follow. Meanwhile, MPs occupy spaces in the Majlis, nominally with the intention of representing an island constituency, and yet few spend any time with their voters beyond the time it takes to count the ballots.

An outsider can never truly know a community as its permanent members can, and a distant member of the elite will struggle to understand the wants and needs of their electorate. The fact that every atoll in the country has its own ‘representatives’ suggests they should be represented in the embodying-their-values-and-needs-in-the-Majlis sense of the word, rather than the enjoy-your-football-field-see-you-in-5-years meaning. This unnecessary aloofness misses a vital opportunity for local leaders to articulate and to translate Maldivian democracy to their voters; to find that sweet spot between dry theorising  (sorry about that) and a man on a podium calling his opponents heretics.

Lists compiled by social scientists have included over 500 different types of democracy, but every single one them has to meaningfully involve the people in decision making (rather than as a fig leaf for oligarchy). The Maldives’ current leaders are quick to point out the unique nature of the country, and to try and mould such a place to perfectly fit western models would represent the worst type of orientalism (in Edward Said’s sense of the word).

Indeed, Maldivian democracy could well end up with it’s own unique position in academia, but without the engagement of the electorate it will remain an oxymoron. Rather than patronising patrons telling people what they want (or more often what they should be afraid of), Maldivians should be asked what they want from their democracy and given the informational tools to answer by their leaders and their media.

The new character of Maldivian politics is only adding greater urgency to older and deeper problems surrounding its democracy growth. Without asking the right questions, however, it will be hard to develop long-term answers.

About the author: Daniel Bosley is a British journalist working in the Maldives’

Photo: Daniel Bosley