Berkley Center

When I first arrived in Cairo, I initially encountered few big shocks. Talking to Arabic professors and returned study abroad students at Georgetown gave me an inkling of what to expect and helped to soften the blow of the traffic, noise, and chaotic energy that characterize Cairo. My new experiences have generally meshed with the growing feel I have for the city.

Despite my preparation, three seemingly unrelated things have taken me by surprise. Before I came here, I knew that most Egyptian women cover their hair, but I was unprepared to see so many women wearing the full face veil or niqab. Prior to my arrival I had never seen the bruises or zebibah that mark the center of many men’s foreheads here. Finally, amidst the familiar sight of booths devoted to recruiting new members to the student government, clubs, and community service organizations, a group devoted to providing furniture for orphan brides seemed jarringly out of place. As my meager understanding of Egyptian culture has grown, particularly of its religious and political undercurrents, I am beginning to understand just how much niqab, zebibah, and providing for young brides share in common.

As I understand it, there has been a real sea change in in regards to women’'s dress. Several decades ago very few Egyptian women wore the hijab or headscarf, but today the majority of women choose wear it. For some women it is an act of piety, for some it is an attempt to avoid unwanted harassment, and for others still it act of conformity or keeping with the current fashion (I saw one woman wearing a Calvin Klein hijab). What represents a real change, however, is some women’'s decision to take on full niqab. Though many Islamic scholars argue that hijab is a religiously required garment, most scholars feel that niqab is either optional or even discouraged. Styles vary, but niqab typically consists of a black outer cloak, a black headscarf, and a black cloth that covers all of the face except the eyes. Some niqabis also have wear gloves and have a mesh screen over their eyes. Though worn by a minority of women, the commonality of niqab, especially outside of touristy areas, took me by surprise in a country with a relatively positive track record on women’'s rights.

When I first began noticing men’'s zebibahs, I am embarrassed to admit that I just thought that a lot of Egyptian men have birthmarks on their foreheads. In fact, a zebibah is a bruise or callus that many men acquire on their foreheads from the prostrations done during prayer. Of those men with a zebibah, many have subtle marks that imply a faithful participation in Islam’'s five daily prayers. Others sport conspicuously large bruises, which raise the question of whether their true aim is devotion to prayer or devotion to good appearances.

On February 17 the New York Times published an article entitled “"Stifled, Egypt'’s Young Turn to Islamic Fervor,”" which clarified for me the trends of niqab and zebibah, as well as how these depictions of faith have anything to do with the weddings of orphaned girls. Faced with the lingering consequences of nationalism and failed structural adjustments, Egypt’'s economy has struggled tremendously in recent years. The CIA World Factbook reports that unemployment is greater than 10 percent and that 20 percent of the population lives below the poverty line. An even larger segment of society suffers from underemployment. The Times article elaborates on the Arab’'s poor economic situation, explaining that graduates from universities and vocational programs often find themselves unable to find jobs in the fields for which they were trained. Many of the available jobs are in blue collar trades; young people reject these jobs as unworthy of university graduates and many remain unemployed.

The article continues by highlighting how Egypt's financial woes have succeeded in tearing at the fabric of one of its most revered social institutions: marriage. Unemployed or underemployed, many youth simply cannot afford to marry. Unable to wed, young people are unable to pass through what the article describes as “the gateway to independence, sexual activity, and societal respect.” Faced by a limited future, ’Egypt's young are turning to Islam to fill the voids in their lives and in turn driving a religious resurgence. The increasingly common niqab and nearly ubiquitous zebibah are merely outward symbols of an internal conversion. Where many young Egyptians have resigned themselves to fate, it seems that the fundraising campaign for orphan brides is a more active reaction to the disheartening trend away from marriage. Whether through an embrace of religion or a furniture drive, a recognition of the changes economic hardship have imposed on cut across all social lines.