I can’t find the tweet, but last night I noted someone–a journalist, no less–tweet something along the lines of “Hmm, interesting – most of my [American? foreign? can't remember] friends like [the article], most of my Arab friends don’t.” While the tone of the comment was ambiguous and I’ll assume a bit of irony, I’ve seen other similar comments that are a bit more…obtuse. The problem, of course, is that while the audience for Eltahawy’s piece was obviously highbrow-ish English speakers interested in foreign policy (I mean, c’mon, Foreign Policy ain’t USA Today), the idea behind some of these comments is essentially: “Hey – foreigners find this valuable, shut up dissenters!” I even spotted one foreigner–who presumably lives in Egypt–telling various Egyptian women on Twitter that they were simply wrong.

The thing is, Arab women, in Eltahawy’s piece, are not active participants in the conversation, but subjects. That, I think, is why so many women took issue to her use of “us” — it felt disingenuous. I realize, of course, that there’s backstory here and she has a considerable number of non-fans and trolls, but this article in particular provoked a stronger reaction than any I’ve ever seen, and there’s a reason for that.

So the problem that I have is that, while the majority of long-form responses have come from Egyptian or other Arab women, most have been dismissed outright. Take, for example, this tweet from Foreign Policy editor Blake Hounshell:

Girls ready for marriage at 10, says Saudi grand mufti, but yes, let’s talk about how @monaeltahawy is an Orientalist arabianbusiness.com/girls-ready-fo…

— Blake Hounshell (@blakehounshell) April 24, 2012

That one is particularly ironic given that Foreign Policy appears to have pre-commissioned five responses to Eltahawy’s piece, indicating they knew how controversial her piece would be. Another:

Why is @monaeltahawy denying the agency of 12-year-old child brides? #criticism

— Blake Hounshell (@blakehounshell) April 24, 2012

(Don’t get me wrong – I don’t think Hounshell is amongst those not listening to Arab women, but his comments were nonetheless tone deaf – below one response, from Pakistani-Canadian Sana Saeed)

@blakehounshell Nice red herring as well as hushing the voices of Arab/Muslim women who have shown dissent. We can shut up and agree.

— Sana Saeed (@SanaSaeed) April 24, 2012

More troubling is the fact that, as Gigi Ibrahim points out in her post, “Many who have criticized Mona’s article get accused that we are defending the actions of discrimination against women or simply denying it and that couldn’t be farthest from the truth in understanding the fundamental problem with Mona’s argument in the first place.” I can’t tell you how many tweets I’ve seen claiming that, in opposing Eltahawy’s framing of the issue, any dissenters must not be taking the real issues seriously. This, I will say outright, is bullshit. I read approximately eight of the bloggy responses (including some of those in Foreign Policy) and every one was written by someone who does speak out about vital issues to women. The dissent is not coming from apologists, it’s coming from women who take issue with Eltahawy’s particular framing of the issue…and there’s nothing unfair about that. I think everyone agrees with Eltahawy when she says FGM is awful and must be eradicated – where I think most disagree is with her take on the root cause.

Ultimately, and even though I disagree with it, I’m glad Eltahawy wrote the piece. When you acquire a certain amount of clout, as she has, you have also acquired a platform from which to shout about whatever you choose, and I would rather, on any day of the week, see Eltahawy using that platform to talk about women’s issues–of vital importance to all of us–than to call Israel the “opium of the people.” I also hope, earnestly, that amongst the criticism of her piece a few more voices arise that can step up, take such an amplified platform, and speak about threats to women in a way that doesn’t cause such a visceral reaction and allows us to learn, and eventually, conquer these threats.

Wadhwa’s talk centered around entrepreneurship, and the general dearth of women and minorities across a variety of industries, particularly tech (in fact, he cited a stat that Blacks constitute only 1.4 percent and Latinos only 4.7 percent of Silicon Valley workforce).  Providing various statistics and tidbits (90% of successful entrepreneurs did NOT raise venture capital; entrepreneurs are not necessarily ivy league; tech entrepreneurs are typically not young; average is age 40, married, with kids), Wadhwa demonstrates that women and men entrepreneurs exhibit more similarities than differences, but that women still lag far behind in the area of entrepreneurship in general. Wadhwa also asks what’s stopping people from becoming entrepreneurs?  The strongest factor in survey, for both genders, is fear of failure or an unwillingness to take risks.

Wadhwa used a variety of examples from the Indian community, sharing a personal story in which he, looking to start up a company, approached various venture capitalists, all to no avail.  Finally, frustrated, he approached an Indian venture capitalist in Silicon Valley, who in turn advised him then introduced him to several others, who, as he said, were “fighting with each other to invest in his idea.”  When Wadhwa finally got the chance to ask one why he hadn’t returned his calls in the first place, he was told, “Because your people don’t make good CEOs.”  The moral of the story?  Racism, as well as sexism is alive and well in the field.

Wadhwa also focused on the issue of women as entrepreneurs more specifically, stating that women entrepreneurs are generally slightly older than men, are similarly likely to be married, but tend to be more educated and have better credentials.  If that is true, does that mean that it takes women more effort and education to succeed?  I was live-tweeting the discussion, which resulted in the question being asked by another Twitter user: “At my all women’s university, our dean warned us we’d have to be twice as good to be considered half as good. Still true?”

Looking at solutions to the problem, various ideas were discussed; starting at the early level.  He then introduced Roshni Academy as an example; the academy, based in New Delhi, works with young, rural, poor girls to help teach them skills in entrepreneurship.  It was clear from the interviews Wadhwa conducted with some of the students that the academy is doing incredible things for some of these girls, but is short-term intervention enough?  Will these girls succeed in the long run?

Bringing the discussion back to the US, Wadhwa pointed out that in many cases, women entrepreneurs are unlikely to help other women.  This point caused several women attendees to speak up; some spoke of women playing so many roles that they’re often too busy to play mentor as well.  Others raised the point that once women achieve a certain level of success, they’re often afraid to lose it and thus shy from helping other women.

Another attendee, seated next to me, pointed out that young women (let’s say, Gen Y) are less likely to identify as feminists and likely to criticize the approach of earlier generations of women in breaking down barriers, claiming that they were “too brash” or “too confrontational.”

Discussing the talk later with two female colleagues, this particular point presented itself again: Why are women of my generation so likely to renounce feminism?  One hypothesis is that (in the US, anyway) our landscape is just so different from that of our mothers: We grew up with women in leadership roles, and for many of us, college was encouraged, if not expected.  Thus, the barriers seem lesser now; we are less likely to fight loudly because the types of barriers with which we are presented are less institutional, more personal or local.

Here’s my thought on that: While it’s true that many of us have had many “elite” opportunities (college, an urban job landscape), the more successful we become, the more likely it is (especially in certain fields) that we’ll hit a gender ceiling.  While it may not be true of our micro-environment (our office, our company), even at higher levels, it could very well be true of our field or our area of focus.

One final point discussed amongst my colleagues was the idea of recognizing privilege: We may have access to certain things our mothers didn’t, but who’s to say that’s true for all American women, or beyond?

Finally, one thing I’m interested in is how to address this issue globally without being patronizing or neo-colonialist.  How can we realize and recognize the needs of women worldwide, and support those women, without talking down to them or imposing a Western ideal of feminism?

Now, as my friend Anas points out, she is backed by the newly formed Party for Authenticity and Modernity (PAM), dubbed the “King’s Party” by the blogoma, and is therefore perhaps just a royal pawn.  On the other hand, the ascendancy of a woman to a role that has almost exclusively been held by men since its inception (Asmaa Chaabi was the first female mayor in the country, elected in 2003 to Essaouira’s city hall) can’t be a bad thing.

On the other hand, the influx of women into candidacies is not a coincidence: a number of U.S. governmental organizations helped train female candidates, and party leaders are certainly aware that, in order to keep relevant, they must cater to the new voter demographics (young, and often female).

In a country where the literacy rate for women still lingers under 50%, it would seem that any step forward for women is a good thing.  But when those women are played as pawns by the governing elite, is it really a step in the right direction?

Any female who says she is ok with being a “friend with benefits” is lying to themselves. Stop it, you’re worth more.

Immediately, I felt my usual angry fire rising up – not because I strongly disagree with her (I do, but that’s almost irrelevant), but because I can’t stand to see anyone make assumptions about an entire group of people.  Oddly enough, Mona’s assertion was based on her own frustration in the misuse of “equality” to imply that men and women are made entirely equal, with no emotional differences; I disagree with that assumption as well, but extend it further to state that not all women – or men – are equal to all others within their gender.

You can see, from the 100+ comments, that this is something many people feel strongly about, for one reason or another.  That, to me, demonstrates the wonderful diversity we have amongst us!  There are men who dream of marriage just like there are women who dream of unencumbered flings.  There are women who want to spend the rest of their lives with one partner, while there are men for whom marriage will never be an ideal.  There are those of us who put ourselves into a particular box because society tells us it’s right, only to discover that it won’t work for us.  There are others who fight so hard against societal norms, only to learn that those norms are what they actually believe in.

My point?  We’re all different.  We should stop boxing ourselves into gender stereotypes just as we should stop boxing ourselves into the lie that everyone is exactly equal.