by Jean Sasson
***
My health was quite obviously affected by the trauma of Little Sultana’s illness, for I awoke the following morning with a sore throat and an aching head. Knowing that my granddaughter’s progress might be further compromised should she be in the presence of anyone with an infection of some kind, I reluctantly called my husband and explained that I would be unable to be by Little Sultana’s side.
I felt a tinge of anger when Kareem’s tone of voice signaled relief; it seemed our conversation the previous evening had stacked my husband’s feelings against me.
“Do not worry, Sultana,” he said in a happy voice. “Your granddaughter is coming back to life! Her temperature is almost normal. She is smiling at me now, in fact. Stay in bed, rest and know that I will be home soon. The doctors here have told us that at the rate she is improving they expect to discharge her tomorrow morning.”
“Do tell her that I love her, Kareem. And that I am sorry I cannot be by her side.”
“She is surrounded on all sides, darling. Abdullah is on her right side. Zain is on her left side, and Amani is at her feet. I am standing tall over all,” he chuckled.
While I do not particularly like going into hospitals, for they hold many sick and distressed people, if one of my children or grandchildren is a patient, then that is where I need to be. Each time I had business to attend to at the royal hospital built by Uncle Faisal, I left in awe of what his once simple dream has become. There is no hospital in the world so beautifully staged. Everything within the King Faisal Specialist Hospital and Research Centre is regal, even majestic, just like the great man himself. What joy it would be to see Uncle Faisal’s face if he could only inspect the hospital —he would be proud of what has been accomplished with this wonderful facility.
***
Although plagued with a cold and cough that prevented me from doing what I really wanted, which was to visit Little Sultana, I settled at my desk and began making calls. My original plan was to see Dr. Meena the following day, but, with Little Sultana’s illness and now my own unpleasant head cold and painful sore throat, I needed to rest and isolate myself from others.
When we spoke, Dr. Meena fully appreciated my predicament and, although she was disappointed that we would not meet, she was very understanding. She mentioned that she would soon be leaving the kingdom for a medical conference in Switzerland, then added, “Dear princess, I know you cannot talk for long, but what I have to tell you cannot wait. I believe that a life is in danger. What would you think if I wrote you the details of the case that concerns me? Would that be acceptable?”
“Of course, Dr. Meena, please feel free to communicate with me in any manner you feel is best for the circumstances. Should I send my driver to pick up the communication?”
“That would be lovely, Princess. The letter will be ready for collection first thing tomorrow morning. And I wanted you to know, too, Princess, that the automobile and driver you so graciously provided for me is being used to transport more than twenty young women who would have no way to reach school, work, or the stores to purchase necessities, or whatever else their needs might be.” She laughed lightly. “I am pleased to report that these twenty women keep the driver and the automobile on the highway many hours each day.”
I felt very happy that something I had done was helping to make the lives of young women easier. People around the world believe that all Saudi Arabians are wealthy. This is not the case. The population of my country is very diverse, and in fact most people are not wealthy. There are many advantages to being a Saudi citizen—the government does help with interest-free loans, free education, and even free health care, and, without taxes in Saudi Arabia, what a person earns stays with them; however, despite the many aspects of government assistance, there are poor people who struggle. There are many women who have no access to transportation, and to have a driver and automobile at their disposal is like the gift of freedom.
Without saying anything to Dr. Meena, I decided at that moment that I would make a fleet of three cars and six drivers available to Dr. Meena to be used in any way that would help Saudi female students and young Saudi wives. When one is dealing with Dr. Meena, one knows that any efforts made to help others will go directly to those people in need. Dr. Meena is the most honest person it is been my pleasure to know.
We closed the call with best wishes, although Dr. Meena surprised me at the end when she said, “And, Princess, I do hope that my communication will not hurt your feelings. I have some things to say that you may not like hearing. If so, I pray for your forgiveness, because you are a good woman and you help many people. But there is someone who needs your help now, although I am aware that this particular project might well be difficult for you to solve.”
My curiosity spiked. What unusual problem was coming my way? I considered Dr. Meena’s words for a long time, wondering how anything could be more difficult than some of the problems we had already faced together. Then I recalled her perplexing words—“worthy Saudi men.” Truly, I could not concentrate on the work at hand for pondering over the puzzle.
Finally, I sighed heavily and pulled out some files that needed my attention, one of which related to a successful charity responsible for educating more than 2,000 girls each year.
***
The next day, after Little Sultana had been released from the hospital and was recuperating at home, I was sitting at my desk when my office assistant delivered a sealed envelope from Dr. Meena. Earlier that morning, I had sent my driver to her hospital offices to pick up the communication.
I finished the business at hand before clasping the envelope to my chest. Most Saudis enjoy using personalized stationery, with their names and titles announced boldly for all to see, but Dr. Meena was a simple woman who led a simple life. The envelope was of the least expensive paper, rough to the touch. I smiled, for I could tell that Dr. Meena was not a frivolous woman and would never spend money on anything of luxury, particularly something such as stationery, which is in essence a person’s calling card. Neither had Dr. Meena addressed it personally to me, or put her own name as the sender. Instead, the word “WORTHY” was boldly written across the envelope. I knew then that whatever the project might be that she wished me to be involved with, I would refer to it by this title.
I sipped my morning tea, then settled in a comfortable chair to read the correspondence that had been playing on my mind since Dr. Meena’s call.
Dear Princess,
I will not spend time complimenting you on the work you have been doing, as I know full well that you spend most of your waking hours slaying the negative things in our country that promote one tragedy after another. After knowing you but a few short years, I have seen that while your riches are ample, time is the one commodity that you lack. But, Princess, I will tell you that you have radically changed the lives of so many people. Unlike you, I am but a simple woman, but I know the importance of the work you and I are doing.
Over the past few years, we have concentrated solely on Saudi girls and women because their need is the greatest of all those in our young country—a country formed on an ancient land, and bound into one nation founded by your own great-grandfather, only eighty years ago.
Finally, our world is changing and, I believe, for the better, for the first time in our modern history.
What we have longed for since we were children is now happening. The windows of opportunity for Saudi women are beginning to open; they are now slightly ajar. But there are those who fight our every step. Then there are those who are beginning to help us. For the first time, there are Saudi men who have seen the injustices of our culture, society, and government. There are Saudi men who are standing by women and calling for change. There are Saudi men who are languishing in prison for doing nothing more than defending women’s rights. Indeed, there are ten specific Saudi men who stand out as champions—men who are prepared to fight for equality.
While I would like nothing better than to address the severity of the
problems each of these ten men are facing for doing nothing more than being truthful, I must concentrate on one particular man who is a symbol of all that is good in a human being. He is the Nelson Mandela of Saudi Arabia. He is the Mohandas Gandhi of Saudi Arabia. He is the Oscar Schindler of Saudi Arabia. He is the Dalai Lama of Saudi Arabia. And he is the Aung San Suu Kyi of Saudi Arabia.
Who is this man, you say? This man is a young husband and father named Raif Badawi. This young man has been torn from his life of peace, and from his wife and children, for the “crime” of blogging and discussing human rights and the wrongs that all thinking Saudi Arabians acknowledge in their hearts, even if they do not have the courage to shout their thoughts from the flat rooftops of our cities and villages.
But, Princess, Saudi Arabians are fortunate that this young man has enough courage for all.
Although you and I have never spoken about Raif Badawi, I know that you are a woman who misses nothing when it comes to every major occurrence in our country, every major change. Therefore I have no doubt that you know much about this young man who is by chance creating waves of outrage around the world by doing nothing more than refusing to give in to tyranny.
Yes, Princess, tyranny!
I believe that Raif Badawi is the person who will create change by simply being himself, a young man who cannot be intimidated into silence. As I have said, I understand that you can discover much about Raif Badawi on your own, but I have a full heart when I think of this young man and I cannot stop my words. Here is what I know of him.
Raif was born on January 13, 1984, into a conservative Saudi family. He was born with a distinct character and could not be swayed from doing what he believed was the right thing. He has a desire to seek the truth. He takes the initiative. He is very energetic. He prefers action. He looks for the good but will confront the bad. He was born the man that he is today, although he could do little to express his ideas until he became an adult.
Raif met Ensaf Haider, the woman who matched him with a strong personality and a feel for justice, through a friend, who happened to be his future wife’s brother. You know the problems young people have meeting in Saudi Arabia. Raif and Ensaf’s relationship began innocently, through conversations over a cell telephone. They did not meet and have illicit sex. They talked. This happened after Ensaf borrowed her brother’s phone and found herself speaking to her brother’s good friend Raif. They were doing what is considered by many in our country to be a punishable crime: two young people having a conversation. TALKING! Once their families discovered that the two were chatting over the phone, they made every effort to stop it, but it was too late. Love had flowered during their long conversations and they were married in 2002.
Raif proved to be a dream of a husband by any woman’s standards. He is a man who respects women, and he treated his wife as an equal in every way. How many Saudi women can claim such a husband? Pitifully few, Princess, pitifully few.
The couple lived quietly and happily, and started their family.
But a black sandstorm was forming, and it was set on a path that would separate the young couple.
The sandstorm started lightly, as most do. After Raif witnessed many wrongs committed in Saudi Arabia by those who should be protecting us, he began to write his blog and discussed the issues that troubled him. He never called for the downfall of our government. He never promoted violence. He TALKED about issues, using his vast knowledge of our land, and applying common sense to the social problems he personally witnessed.
Raif is a man who cannot keep quiet about injustices, whether against women or men, whether gender discrimination or whether personal freedom discrimination.
After the religious police gained his attention by their evil acts of targeting, harassing, and arresting women who were doing nothing more than going about their daily business, Raif spoke out against them in his blog. He sees no need for religious police. He believes that Saudi Arabians deserve better than having a throng of men who can see no good in human nature running amok, arresting and terrorizing good people.
Princess, I have heard his words coming from your own tongue—that the religious police and conservative clerics are the first in line committing injustice against all Saudis. You share these feelings with Raif Badawi. The difference is that he spoke his mind on a public forum, on a blogging Web site named Free Saudi Liberals, which, of course, is now shut down by our government.
The rest is history. Our government has moved against this young man as tenaciously as if he were a terrorist who had plans to murder thousands. His family has been torn apart—he has been ripped away from his wife and their three children. He has been sentenced to ten years in prison and 1,000 lashes, for doing nothing more than speaking his mind.
As you and I have discussed on several occasions, ALL human beings must have the right to speak their minds.
This young man is locked in a small cell.
This man cannot see his growing children.
This man is being threatened with a death sentence.
This man is a thinker, not a man built to endure physical abuse.
This man has many health issues, which may hasten his death.
This man has already endured fifty lashes.
I thank Allah that few of us know the pain endured by being on the receiving end of the lash. As a medical doctor who has treated two women admitted into the hospital after being flogged thirty times each for the crime of sitting in a car and having a conversation with a man who was not their relative, I can tell you that flogging causes unbearable pain, tremendous damage to the skin, as well as injury to the internal organs if the lash falls anywhere but the upper back, which it often does. I can also tell you that the “Koranian rule” is rarely applied, where the one doing the flogging is supposed to hold a Koran under his arm so that the lashes do not come full force from the entire body but only from the elbow, thus with less force.
Princess, according to the women I treated, the lashes do not cause intolerable pain. AT FIRST. But after ten lashes, the pain is like a fire that inflames the entire body. The pain is so severe that victims search for words to describe it.
Some victims grit their teeth and make no noise.
Some victims scream in agony.
Some victims pray to Allah, asking for mercy.
Some victims faint from the pain.
Raif Badawi did not make a sound. Raif Badawi did not faint. He stood defiantly against his aggressors.
After a flogging, the victims are left so physically weak and in such pain that it is rare for them to be able to walk and it takes many days, even weeks, for the flesh to heal. The moment the wounds are sealed and the fluids of inflammation cease flowing, the next set of floggings begin.
Princess, there is talk that Raif Badawi will soon be tried for the crime of apostasy, the crime of abandoning his faith, as you know. With this will come the death sentence and a deep shame that we in Saudi Arabia will never forget.
Should our government murder this young man who is a bright beacon of light, the world will never forgive our government—or Saudi Arabians—for letting it happen.
It is in our hands, Princess, to step in and stop this crime.
Numerous people and the representatives of many countries in the world are standing up to be counted. All are calling for the freedom of a young man who can change the world, just as Mandela and Gandhi brought change that will forever live in peoples’ hearts.
Will we remain silent? Will we stand by and let this happen?
It is rare that such young men as Raif Badawi are born.
Can we allow his life to be snuffed out?
If he is allowed to live, he will represent a unification of all good things in our country.
Princess, I have never asked you to criticize our government, because our government is YOUR family. Such a thing would be difficult for anyone.
But, Princess, this is a case that needs your help.
It is my hope that you will shi
ne the light of compassion into your husband’s heart and ask him to pass that light to the men who rule over us all.
Find some way to convince them that there will be no threat to the government if ordinary Saudi citizens are allowed to TALK, to SPEAK OUT, to DISCUSS the issues that are in all our hearts.
Princess, as you know, I am devoted to Islam. Since the day Raif Badawi was arrested, I have been praying to Allah. I have been thinking about our revered Prophet Muhammad. I have never felt more strongly about anything, Princess. I believe with my whole heart that the Prophet Muhammad would free Raif Badawi, and even become his friend and mentor. I believe that the Prophet Muhammad would see the light in this young man’s heart. I believe that the Prophet Muhammad would show mercy to this young man, his wife and three young children. I believe that the Prophet Muhammad would embrace the goodness that is in Raif Badawi and forbid others to harm him.
I believe, most of all, that the Prophet Muhammad was a good man who would recognize a WORTHY MAN.
Raif Badawi is a worthy man, Princess.
I have nothing more to say, as I believe that Raif Badawi says all there is to say for each one of us.
Talking should not be a crime.
Please read some of his blog posts, Princess. Although forbidden, they are in the world of the Internet and his words will be quoted for many years to come.
Raif Badawi is the best that Saudi Arabia has to offer the world.
He is a treasure that should be protected.
If not protected by us, then by whom?
I bid you farewell. You will be in my prayers, and in my heart. I know you will do the right thing.
My heart fluttered with dread. I knew the full story of Raif Badawi, and I had suffered, too, wishing that he would be freed. But it was a subject I had not discussed with Kareem.