In the New York Times, Ian Bremmer talks about the remarkable Saudi entrepreneurs he met who are pushing a more open society. That’s a role entrepreneurs often play, of course, as they are usually creative risk-takers who seek new and better ways to do things that add value people will buy. What was most remarkable for Mr. Bremmer was that these entrepreneurs were women. Even in the conservative confines of Riyadh, they truly emulated the entrepreneurial spirit.
I was in Saudi Arabia the first time myself a few years ago, in the more liberal (that’s liberal on a Saudi scale) coast town of Jeddah. Arrival was like a scene from a movie, as a limo pulled up to the plane to whisk me and my colleagues to a VIP waiting room, allowing us to relax over tea while someone else dealt with the mundane issues of passport control and baggage claim. Of course, that was because, as women, we could not interact with any of the people involved in passport control or baggage claim. It was a lovely tea, though, and we even received elaborately and beautifully wrapped welcome gifts. Abayas. “Purely for your own comfort, of course, not required.” I was prepared to dress conservatively, of course, and was well covered to wrists and ankles, but since they apparently expected Western women to be 6 feet tall, my gift was unworkable and I politely declined to wear it. It was hemmed overnight and redelivered.
Like Mr. Bremmer’s experience, however, this early segregation did not tell the whole story. I, too, had many relaxed conversations with Saudi businesswomen and some of their male counterparts about their ambitions and attitudes toward societal change. One issue that kept coming up was the abaya. Wearing an abaya can be a bit like throwing on a comfy old housecoat everyday—it’s easy, you don’t have to think about it, it’s fairly comfortable until you’re baking in black in the hot sun. Eating in a full veil (a niqab) is another matter—it takes two hands to make sure that your chin is not uncovered while still creating room to negotiate a fork up under there. Walking around the streets of Jeddah, there seemed to be somewhat of a sliding scale of proper attire: local urban women mostly wore abaya with a head scarf; rural women tended to wear both abaya and niqab; Muslim women from other countries, such as Malaysia, usually wore attire appropriate to their Muslim culture (fully covered, usually bright colors and with their faces open); Western women dressed very conservatively and might or might not wear an abaya, often just open like a coat.
For reasons ranging from religious belief to resignation, most of the Saudi women I met accepted the abaya, even those who were quite comfortable in Western attire outside the country. What they really wanted—in a first-step, now-not-later push—was color. It started with lining inside the sleeves. Then the sleeves got wider and wider to show more flash of color. The color started creeping over the edge and up the sleeve ever so slightly. Then there was a dash of color, or maybe even colored rhinestones, around the neckline, forming a decorative yoke.
In addition to strong businesswomen, I met young women students who not only were excelling in their studies, they were avid soccer players—with their parents’ support and encouragement. And all of these women foresaw–and were prepared to work toward–a positive future for their country where they are active contributors.
Saudi Arabia will feel the push and pull of change, as traditionalists and reformers clash in a whole variety of ways over how much, how soon. Many days progress will seem daunting and impossible. When thinking of these women, though, it does seem quite bright. Like the abayas, Saudi life seems to be getting more colorful.
Published Date: March 18, 2010