Many of the women pulled their blue burqas down over their faces as they stepped up to cast their ballots, making it difficult for election officials to establish whether they were in fact entitled to vote.
Several of the 150 women who had registered for the election didn’t show, either because their husbands wouldn’t let them or because threats from Islamic extremists deterred them. More than 80 others who hadn’t registered turned up, adding to the confusion in the chilly, unfurnished municipal hall where the women of Wardak province had gathered to vote for delegates to the constitutional loya jirga, or tribal council, due to be held this month.
As an exercise in democracy, the recent election clearly was flawed. But for the women casting ballots for the first time in their lives, it was an opportunity to relish, a chance to have their say in the shaping of their country’s future.
“Today we are voting for the first time and we are so very happy,” said Firoza Rizai, 20, who missed five years of schooling under the Taliban regime but still hopes to become a doctor. “Under the Taliban, we were the ones who suffered most. We were imprisoned within the four walls of our homes, and now we want freedom, we want equality and we want independence from our fathers, our brothers and our husbands.”
Across Afghanistan over the past several weeks, women have been voting in the country’s first nationwide elections to include them. Men also are voting for representatives to the loya jirga , at which 500 delegates are to debate and approve a new draft constitution. That would pave the way for nationwide elections next year.
There were women delegates to the loya jirga last year, which elected the current government, but they were selected, not elected. This time it was decided that the issue of women’s rights was so important that women should be allowed to choose their own representatives.
Two women are to be elected to attend the gathering from each of the 32 provinces. Women also are eligible to campaign in the elections taking place for the other delegates, though in Afghanistan, it is unlikely any will be elected by male voters.
“If we didn’t have separate elections for women, there would be no women in the loya jirga,” said Fatima Gilani, who sat on the Constitutional Commission that produced the draft constitution.
It is hardly a representative process. Candidates must be literate, which disqualifies the 93 percent of Afghan women who can’t read and write. Each district chooses representatives to send to the provincial capital for the election, and they are supposed to select educated women who will be able to understand the process. But as a quick survey of those voting in Maidan Shah, Wardak’s capital, made clear, that is a tall order.
Most of the women said they hadn’t read the constitution that will be debated at the loya jirga, and some didn’t seem to know what a constitution was.
“I am illiterate and my husband is illiterate, so who is going to tell us what this constitution is about?” said Armena, 35. “There is only one thing I know, which is that we are voting for a person who will represent us and defend the rights of women.”
Eagerness for change evident
Yet the enthusiasm for a process that women are hoping will herald new freedoms and improve their lives was unmistakable. This was the third attempt to hold the election in Wardak; twice before, the vote had to be abandoned amid arguments over who should be allowed to vote. On one occasion the election commissioners had to flee for their safety.
This time around, election officials decided to attribute the bickering to passion rather than foul play, and after six hours of voting, counting and arguing, two of the four candidates were declared victors.
“I will work hard to bring schools, clinics and hospitals to Wardak,” promised Nafisa Nasib, a 30-year-old schoolteacher who won the most votes, clenching her small fist. “I will work to achieve equality between men and women, for women to have the right to have a profession and a trade, and to be independent.”
Some fear expectations are being raised too high. A document isn’t going to erase centuries of deeply rooted traditions that continue to subject many women to the whims of the males of their families. Women activists already are complaining that the draft constitution has not gone far enough to protect the rights of women in a country where, as recently as two years ago, they were forbidden by law from working outside the home, attending school or stepping outside without covering their faces.
After much debate, the words “men and women” were dropped from the clause proclaiming the equality of “all Afghan citizens,” leaving ambiguity over the question of women’s rights. Because Afghan women aren’t issued the identification cards given to men, some men may argue that women aren’t citizens and therefore aren’t entitled to equality, rights activists say.
Holding even these limited elections also has highlighted how difficult it will be to include women in the nationwide elections scheduled for next summer. Because Afghan women don’t have ID cards, proving their eligibility and registering them will be problematic. There are plans to issue photo IDs for male voters, but in conservative areas, many men refuse to allow their wives or daughters to be photographed, so UN officials are looking at using fingerprints to register women.
Confronted with a burqa-clad voter, the election officers in Maidan Shah inspected her hands. If they seemed too soft for an 18-year-old–18 was the minimum voting age–a female official took the woman aside, threw back her burqa and scrutinized her face. The process prompted many arguments, but eventually 21 women who clearly looked younger than 18 agreed to be disqualified.
“It’s definitely a rudimentary process,” acknowledged Rima Amiri, who is overseeing the women’s elections for the UN. “But on the other hand we have complete transparency.”
More worrying is the creeping influence of the Taliban in the conservative, ethnic Pashtun provinces of the south and east, where attacks against aid workers and Afghan government officials are on the rise. Letters have been posted in towns and villages throughout the region threatening death to anyone who participates in the election process.
One such letter was posted on the mosque near the home of Zarghona Mayar, one of the four candidates seeking election in Wardak, an eastern province. After discussing the issue with her husband, she decided she had no choice but to take part.
“This is our first opportunity to win rights for women, so we had to come,” said Mayar, one of the two losing candidates.
Little or no turnout
No women volunteered to vote in the eastern province of Paktika, where some of the fiercest battles of the war on terrorism still rage between U.S. and Taliban forces. Election officials decided to appoint two women to represent the area.
In Zabul, another Taliban stronghold, only 50 women out of at least 100 registered turned up for the election, leading to suspicions that women there also were subject to intimidation.
Even in areas far from the influence of the Taliban, conservative religious leaders have prevented women from voting. No women from the Panjshir Valley, an ethnically Tajik district north of Kabul where many members of the current government are from, showed up at their provincial election after warnings were issued by local mullahs.
Yet with the voting process nearly complete, election officials say they are pleasantly surprised by the response so far.
“This is the first time ever that women have taken part in elections across the entire country, and there’s been only one province where we couldn’t hold the election,” Amiri said. “It’s quite impressive.”
