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Saudi Newspaper Notes: Fatwa Edition

Rules can be problematic. No sooner have you made one than some loophole appears that you never thought of. A technicality. A weird application. A four-year-old. Consider, for example, something as simple as "No cookies before dinner." Aha! You didn't say WHICH dinner. I ate dinner yesterday. Gimme a cookie.

This is a persistent problem in religion. People like rules. It's easier to know where you stand when there are rules. But no sooner does a set of principles harden into rules than the weird applications and technicalities start to crop up. Modern situations and cross-cultural interactions come up against rules that have made sense for generations, and the collision produces some absurd questions. Is a caribou kosher? Can an Amish ride in a car he's not driving? Should Mormons drink Coke? Can a Buddhist use disinfectant wipes?

No religion is immune, and the more detailed the rules are, the more miniscule the questions, and the sillier they look to outsiders. Examples from Orthodox Judaism get trotted out a lot. I imagine newspapers in Tel Aviv frequently carry stories about how one orthodox group or another has addressed a technology-based question about what constitutes "work" on the Sabbath.

In Saudi Arabia, what we hear about are fatwas.

In the West, we associate "fatwa" with "battle cry." We hear of some imam or another "issuing a fatwa against..." fill-in-the-blank. Usually a person or group of people. But that phrasing gets us confused about what a fatwa is. Basically, it's an Islamic legal opinion. A qualified Islamic scholar studies an issue, the Islamic law and principle that applies, and offers an official opinion--a fatwa--on how he (and he alone--Islam is not hierarchical so opinions are not binding) thinks an observant Muslim should deal with the question.

And there are a lot of questions. The model for a Muslim life is Mohammed's, and given that Mohammed lived 1500 years ago, in the desert, there tend to be a lot of questions these days that can't be answered by any ol' amateur just reading the standard canon. As a token of respect, for example, many feel the Qur'an  should not be taken into the bathroom. Call it the George Costanza/Barnes & Noble rule. But now we carry books in our phones, including the Qur'an. Am I doing wrong if I take my phone into the bathroom?

Thorny, eh? The conclusion (of the scholar who was asked the question) was no. The reasoning was that Muslims memorize the Qur'an as well, and therefore carry it with them, internalized, all the time, in the same way the data is internalized to the phone. Go in with your brain, go in with the phone. (But while you're in there, could you quit spraying water all over the room?) That conclusion would be referred to as a fatwa. I like titles, so I call it the Potty Fatwa.

I've been seeing a lot of fatwas in the news here lately. If you're curious, you can keep yourself abreast of some of the latest reasoning and conclusions at fatwa-online.com. Most of the fatwas you see there are thoughtful and practical ways to make an individual life more holy, and therefore aren't even slightly newsworthy. And since it's always more fun to talk about what other people are talking about, I'll leave them alone as well. Conversation clusters around the sensational, so let's join in!

First,what I will call the Infidel Infant Fatwa. Full disclosure: This isn't actually a fatwa. This is not an opinion about what one should do, but a straight-up public law decreeing what you must do. The thing is, though, that law in Saudi Arabia is based on religious edict, so the lines get blurred. And it lends itself to such a nice title, don't you think?
This past week the Interior Ministry published a list of 50 given names that may not be given to Saudi children. The list includes names that are affiliated with royalty (e.g., Highness, King, Queen), are blasphemous in some way or another (e.g., Messenger, Prophet), or are foreign. Coincidentally, a number of the banned names are commonly used among the minority Shi'ite Muslims. What a coinkydink.

As for the foreign ones, though, you see where this is headed, right? If I can't name my girl Alice (true), what about Alicia? If not Elaine (true), what about Elena? Let the rule-twisting begin! Linda, Sandy, and Lauren are on the list, too. But that's all. Just those. Which seems like a miss, because there's a boatload of names out there that do a WAY bigger job of tying you to a non-Muslim group. SallyJo, BettySue, and JoEllen, for example, are far more likely to turn up in a congregation breathing fire against Muslims than Lauren is.

So I can't explain the logic of what makes the list, but I can certainly understand the logic of having one. Who, on seeing the jaw-dropping list of baby names given at Madison Memorial Hospital in Idaho, doesn't think "There ought to be a law against this"? (Decide for yourself. I'm especially fond of this blog categorizing the 2010 batch.)


If you're curious, here's the Gulf News article, with the complete list of 50 names.


Next, I offer the Don't-Boldly-Go Fatwa. Sorry, kids. All you aspiring astronauts and space-camp nuts. According to a fatwa issued by the General Authority of Islamic Affairs and Endowment in the U.A.E., a trip to Mars is prohibited. Relevant parts of the fatwa say that "Such a one-way journey poses a real risk to life, and that can never be justified in Islam. There is a possibility that an individual who travels to Mars may not be able to remain alive there, and is more vulnerable to death." Both of those.

Dying in such a mission would net you the same punishment due to those who commit suicide. This was important to clarify, because the council was concerned about Muslims who might want to make the trip to escape divine punishment or avoid having to stand before Allah in judgment. Well, gosh, councilmen, if you're worried about people having those ideas, it would seem that BOTH Islamic and scientific education needed to be cranked up a notch around here.

Don't believe me? Check the Arab News article here.

Finally, my favorite, the Chuck-a-Rama Fatwa. This comes from a single Saudi cleric, who declared that all-you-can-eat buffets should be prohibited (see the article here). One should know what one is going to eat, he declared, and how much of it, before making the purchase.
That explanation leaves me more puzzled than I was before he offered it. The Twitter conversation suggested he had the idea that Muslims might end up stealing from the proprietors, or be robbed by receiving less than they paid for. Maybe he's never been to a buffet, which is all it takes to understand the business model: You pay a low price for a large quantity of poor food. The restaurant owner makes a profit, and the customer rolls away stuffed. Win-win!

When I saw the title of the article, I thought the fatwa was going to explain how the Kingdom's obesity epidemic was un-Islamic and call on citizens to make healthy choices. But it sounds as if it had more to do with the fairness of the transaction, drat it.

OR, you could go the American route, which addresses both. My husband and I once went into a buffet restaurant for breakfast while traveling (before Instagram, unfortunately) and I saw a handwritten sign taped to the cash register at the entry: "Gastric bypass patients must show ID to receive a 10% discount."

Go ahead. Think about it. Think about it some more. The layers of wrongness will multiply and fold over each other more and more the longer you go. Have you reached the "That more-is-better mentality is the real disease you need to cure" layer yet? Clearly, we need to be saved from ourselves. Perhaps a fatwa would be a good idea.

Dear Mom (and P.S. Abdullah): Life in a Saudi Arabian Compound

Being back in the U.S. in December and January, among American friends and family, highlighted how far beyond a Westerner's comprehension the idea of living in Saudi Arabia really is. A monarchy? Islamic law? Separate treatment for men and women? Living in a walled compound? To someone who hasn't been here, there's no frame of reference for any of it. Not a lot of sitcoms or movies set in Middle Eastern neighborhoods. So I thought I had some 'splaining to do when I got back. A letter home from camp, so to speak. You know, Dear Mom, here's what compound life is like.

But while I've been living here I've also wondered what the Arabs around us think. Wouldn't you? This is what my compound looks like from the outside, right smack in the middle of a community of homes and apartments and shops and streets:

Foreboding, eh? How would you feel if that was your neighbor? Would you look at yourself and wonder what made people feel as if they needed to separate themselves from you that way? I would.

And then I saw this, by Abdullah Sayel, in the Arab News, which is a major English-language daily in Saudi Arabia:

Dear expat, if you live in a compound with a main gate and a number of villas surrounded by a high fence, then you need to accept the fact that you represent a legend or a human myth. In the next few lines, I will try my best to explain how.

In Saudi society, there is a stereotype about expat compounds and their inhabitants. Many still think that a secret life is run behind these high walls. To many Saudis, you are seen as someone who runs loud parties (especially during Christmas and New Year), crazy entertainment and fancy recreational facilities. All of this, of course, is thought to be taking place behind your compound walls. Is this true or not? This is something that I cannot comfort my fellow citizens about.

Now, what you need to do as an expat living in a fancy compound is easy. If a young Saudi or an Arab colleague asks you about the myths and lives of Hollywood stars, which you might enjoy in real, what would you say? Could this be the truth? Who can deny that this is just a stereotype?
(The link to the original is here, if you want to check me or explore the reader comments.)

Okay, THAT had never crossed my mind. Champagne fountains! Flappers! Feathers! Heathen music! Everybody in the pool! He seems to be picturing something like this:

Oh, man, how I wanted to sit this guy down and say, "Look, I need to explain a few things to you." (Including how puzzling that last paragraph was.) And although the subject would be the same as my letter home from camp, it would be a very different set of things than the ones I explain to my mom. But Abdullah threw down the challenge, didn't he? And I do like a challenge. So, with a lot of brainstorming help from Mr. Wood's English classes at Clearfield High School (hollah!), I'm going for it. My Abdullah-footnoted letter home from camp to Mom, which in a perfect world would help both sides understand each other a little better:

Dear Mom,
How are you? Compound life is fun. Living inside these walls isn't as weird as you think. Turns out everything is behind walls here, so we're not that different.* Every Saudi home is behind high walls and a gate so you can't see the house itself, and the windows are small and covered up.

This is what a Saudi neighborhood street looks like:

Street-level view of a typical Riyadh neighborhood.

*Dear Abdullah, I have to explain about the walls here because western homes don't have them. In fact, we build our homes with the express intent of making them look welcoming to everyone who passes by. We landscape along the front walk or at the door to invite people in. We have big windows. Even in an apartment residents will put a mat that says "Welcome" at the front door. Fences might enclose property behind the house to contain pets or children, but anything in the front is ornamental, and is rarely more than waist high.

And this is what my street looks like:

A residential street inside the compound.

Looks like an Arizona retirement community, don't you think? Front doors and walks are visible, houses face each other, windows are open. We greet neighbors and rap on a door to borrow something or say hello. Kids ride around on bikes and scooters, people go for a walk. Most days, people go to work in the morning, come home, eat dinner, watch some TV, go to bed.*

*Dear Abdullah: Really, that's it.  

We wear western dress inside the compound, so it's very comfortable to be out and around, meeting new people. I'm making lots of new friends.*

*Dear Abdullah: Your families live comfortably in individually walled homes because you ARE at home, with lots of extended family that may not live in the same house, but are spread around nearby. We come here without family, and many foreigners would find it isolating to live in a walled home, without freedom of movement. Even with family nearby, Westerners are big on friends, including neighbors. We depend on them in times of need. We don't have tribes. The network of family, friends and neighbors is the closest thing, and without any family with us here, friends and neighbors become extra important.

We have a restaurant; a gym; tennis, basketball, and racquetball courts; and a market here on the compound. There are also a couple of little hair salons, a playground, and a nice big pool and deck area. It's nice to be able to have recreation and go about routine daily activities independently, without having to cover.*

Compound gym, looking one way. I'm in a committed relationship with the farthest spin bike.

Compound gym, looking the other way, toward a lot of weight equipment long abandoned by exercise professionals. Free weights, at least, don't expire.

Compound market. Refrigerator cases run along the wall to my right, with dairy, meat, juices, and produce. You can get by pretty well on just what's available at the market and the prices are good.

Compound pool, with the restaurant through the arches at the end. (Early March--just now getting back in the pool.)

*Dear Abdullah: In the West, men and women mingle freely and nobody thinks anything of it. Men and women are at ease around each other. Western women find no use in covering in black robes and are more comfortable without them.

Truth be told, I'm probably making more friends, and faster, because of the way we're all packed in here together and can't access the outside world on our own. (You know, with the way the women can't drive.) The compound has a couple of buses that take children to their many different schools and then go out every day to take women shopping. There's a monthly schedule, so you can look and see when the next trip is to IKEA, or a souk you like, or a store you need to go to. The nearest grocery store sends its own bus almost every day to pick us up, take us to the store, and bring us back. The driver drops us at our own doors and helps us carry in the groceries, which is great. However, you have to go right when the bus wants to, and check out according to the schedule, no matter what you have to leave off your list.

*Dear Abdullah: In Western countries women drive, and both men and women tend to errands whenever they need to. If you're printing a document and run out of ink, you jump in the car, go to the office supply store, buy your ink, and come back. If one store doesn't have what you need, you just go to another. If you think of something else while you're out, you change your plans and add that errand to your itinerary. Arranging for drivers or adhering to a bus schedule is considered burdensome.

The silver lining is that the bus is the best place to get to know the other women. You talk about what you found, or give each other tips so that next time you can find what you didn't this time. You can help each other look for things, or pitch in to help somebody who has a shopping emergency (birthday party, feeling unwell, new to Saudi Arabia). Those things wouldn't happen anywhere else.

We also have socials and parties and activities*. The restaurant on our compound puts on a Thursday night buffet (Thursday night is Friday night here) where we make a habit of meeting up with our friends. Some of the women play board games in the afternoons. I like to play badminton, and sometimes women from the shopping bus decide to meet at the restaurant for lunch. We've also started having regular "princess parties" where we dress up in our latest finds from the Princess Souk (aka, the second-Hand souk--you can find the blog post from my first trip here). Here's our gathering from this past week:

The Princess Souk Party Group

*Dear Abdullah: We ate dinner and went home about 10:00. No fountains, nobody in the pool, and if there were any feathers they were already on the Saudi dresses we bought here. Our "crazy entertainment" was conversation and picture taking. I had a Greek salad and some lentil soup. Oh--and a Diet Coke. Sorry to disappoint you.

Well, Mom, that's about it for now. It's Indian night tonight at the restaurant--my favorite. I hope everything is great at home. Write back soon! I'm having lots of great adventures that I'll write about another time.
Love, Margo