I am a princess who can never be queen. This is because in my country only the men and the wind are completely free. Under the current circumstances, never will a woman be elevated to the highest rank in our Saudi monarchy.
Over twenty years have passed since I first revealed the dark secrets of my land in the book Princess: A True Story of Life Behind the Veil in Saudi Arabia. I have returned to tell you much more. For those who have already read about my life, Princess: More Tears to Cry will bring you into the present day. For those who have not read the first three instalments, please allow me to introduce you to my story, as well as provide information regarding the fate of women born in Saudi Arabia.
I will tell you what life is like for many females in Saudi Arabia in this the year of 2014 of the Gregorian calendar, and in 1435 A.H., the Islamic calendar.
Men are allowed to have four wives and limitless concubines. My mother was the first of my father’s wives, but she gave birth to only one son, the chief measure of a woman’s respect and status in my country. My father soon married other women, which was a permanent anguish for my mother.
I was the youngest of my mother’s eleven children – one son and ten daughters. Although I am a royal princess and was repeatedly told that I was a child of privilege, this was not my reality. Once I was able to fully comprehend our lives, I understood that my status was, in fact, very low. I lived in a luxurious palace, where beauty and wealth surrounded me. Yet these trappings of royalty meant little because I was a child who wanted nothing more than the love of both my parents. Although my darling mother adored me with her whole heart, my father attributed no value to females – in particular a female child as obstinate and bold as I was from the moment I was able to voice my thoughts. I knew that my father was capable of great love because he provided affection in abundance when it came to my brother, Ali. But, despite my overpowering desire to win my father’s love, I never achieved my objective.
Although our four palaces were filled with servants to grant his every wish, Ali was never satisfied. He demanded that all who lived in the palace pander to him, including his mother and siblings. But I never did perform as my brother ordered. I was the youngest of the daughters and small for my age. As the baby, I was greatly pampered by my nine sisters and my mother, who treated me as a little doll to dress in frilly dresses. Thus Ali was not the only spoiled child in our home. Feeling myself the equal of my brother, I was comfortable pestering him daily with high-spirited disobedience.
But the day came when I first grasped that outside of our family circle of women I was not considered the little treasure they had led me to believe. A vivid memory grieves me today, many years later. It is of the day when I first grasped that my father did not love me as he loved his son. On that miserable day it was demonstrated to me that my brother would rule over me, at least until I was old enough to outwit him.
The incident occurred only because I declined to give Ali my apple. Rather than bend to his will, I ate the apple as quickly as possible, causing my brother to burn in fury. The moment Ali was able to speak through his rage, he shouted for Omar, who was our Egyptian driver, and who reported only to our father. Suddenly Omar’s huge hands lifted me into the air and I was taken to confront my stern-faced father, who glared at me with true exasperation. I, a mere female, had dared to refuse a wish voiced by my brother, a male child who was born to rule. I was to pay dearly that day for nothing more than eating my own apple. After my father slapped me in the face, he told Omar that Ali was my master: Ali was to be given all my toys; he was to hold the power to say what I could or could not do, including when I might eat my daily meals. How my brother gloated! I was tortured by him for many weeks until he became interested in other pursuits.
From that day forward, Ali and I were devoted enemies. Although he bested me when I was very young, as I grew older I discovered that Ali was not as clever as his little sister and he would fall for any deception. I soon surpassed my brother’s wit and this has never changed – even today, there are many times when I cannot contain the urge to dupe my brother on trivial issues, silly matters that cause my brother much embarrassment, for he lacks a sense of humour; he is a man who is as arrogant and overbearing as the child he once was.
The saddest moment of my life came when my mother passed away, dying far too young and leaving her shattered youngest without a mother. My older sisters took over my care, all of them promising my mother on her deathbed they’d look after her little Sultana. Mother feared for my future safety, she said, for Saudi Arabia was not a country that reacted favourably to defiant females.
She was right to worry. Everything was enormously difficult for females in those days. Although the rush of oil wealth introduced modernisation to our desert kingdom, we were still living in the ninth century when it came to female freedoms. Social and legal restrictions against women were numerous. Many women still lived in purdah, isolated in their homes. All women had a male guardian, a man in the family whose duty it was to regulate behaviour in every circumstance of that woman’s life. Few girls attended schools, and those who did were solely of wealthy families and their studies were kept to limited fields of study. All girls veiled at puberty. Many young girls even married at puberty or shortly afterwards. Those young girls married whomever their families dictated they would marry. Most girls wed a first or second cousin, a cultural tradition that created many genetic health issues for the children of such unions. Women were not allowed to drive. When girls graduated from school, their families would not permit them to work, even if appropriate jobs were available. Truthfully, everything in normal life was kept distant from females. Men ruled by fear, but they were also fearful of what might happen should any hint of individuality be expressed by women. Severe punishments were routine for the most innocent of behaviour. Should a girl speak to a boy outwith her family, the punishment could be life-threatening. I personally experienced the true horror of this when a good friend, who was so bold that she met with foreign men, was put to death on the orders of her father. She was drowned in the family swimming pool, a favourite method in those days, when fathers were able to murder wayward daughters. Indeed, for this heinous deed he received congratulations from all. Another girlfriend was married to an old man in a small village for the same act of youthful rebellion.
But as I matured from a child into my teenage years, there were hints of the changes that were coming. I was the first in my family allowed to meet my husband prior to marriage. Despite being closely supervised by the females of both families, the occasion of our meeting was an astounding triumph. Perhaps this was indicative of positive changes, for during this same period of time more girls gained access to schools, an astute decision enforced by my own family of royal men. Not surprisingly, the crusade to further female education was fought fiercely by many men in the kingdom, a campaign led by the clerics and religious radicals. Those men demanded that the role of the female remain in the dark ages. Suddenly the heat of the Saudi desert no longer came from the sun but from the fiery clash of ideas, regarding the opposing views about women’s lives.
I am pleased to have been a spark in this fire.
Education has become the impetus on which women hang their ambitions. With education, new ideas stimulate female brains.
I have observed that as Saudi women become educated, Saudi men too are becoming more enlightened as to the contribution educated women can make to Saudi life, both private and public. Education benefits us all, for once women possess a voice that can be heard by their men, they boldly fight for their daughters. While change has been painfully gradual, once started, change has consistently moved in a positive direction.
During these years of struggle, I became the mother of three children – a son and two daughters. Once I was the mother of daughters, I fought even more aggressively for the humanitarian issues that affected the children of all Saudi citizens. I believe that if our daughters are unhappy, our sons also will feel the wind of unhappiness in their own lives. New social and cultural gains for women are equally beneficial for the men of Saudi Arabia.
Twenty-two years ago, I took a dangerous step and collaborated with my American writer friend Jean Sasson so that my story, and those of other women in my country, might be revealed to the world. Two further books followed. It was the first time that a female of the royal family had dared to speak out, to alert the world to the fact that a princess was being denied personal freedom. In publishing those books, I made a bold move, changing my life and the lives of many other women. My story was a bestseller in many countries and I have been told that my spirited fight against discrimination has mattered greatly to women of nearly every nationality and religion. I have learned that many thousands of young women have taken up the fight, inspired by my life story. For this I am happy, despite the fact that I suffered greatly for my audacity, baffling my sisters, provoking my husband, and enraging my father and my brother. But I have no regrets, for I am a woman who will not be bullied into silence. I stand proud that the three books written about my life reveal the positives and negatives of my people and my land, both of which I love greatly.
I believe in open dialogue and know that without education, awareness and the right of its every citizen to live in dignity, no country can advance. But even as I speak these words I must admit a painful truth: while some change has come to my people and my country, many challenges remain to be met.
So, what gender reforms have occurred in Saudi Arabia since the time I was a strong-willed young girl who boldly battled blind favouritism for males and unfairness towards females? The answer is complicated.
True advances have been made for Saudi females, principally in education. My family’s royal embassy in Washington DC acknowledges that Saudi Arabia’s education system has gone through an astonishing transformation, making education available for all Saudis who choose to attend school.
This makes it clear that the men of my family have made education for every Saudi citizen a prime goal. Nothing has changed the face of my country, and the men and women living there today, more than access to education. Like other royals, I have made education a favourite charity and have spent a great deal of money to assist in educating our young, as well as young girls in other Muslim lands. The only Saudi Arabian citizens who do not receive education in Saudi Arabia are the female children of the ill informed. My government does not become involved should a father refuse offers of education for his daughters. This is something that I hope will change in the years to come.
Other factors, such as travel and the internet (linked together with education), are making Saudi Arabia a very different place from the desert kingdom of my youth. Many Saudi citizens are financially independent. With access to money, large numbers of Saudis travel the world. Travel has opened their minds to other worlds, where women have rights to live in freedom. Access to the internet has increased the pace of change. Most young Saudis are equipped with computers and iPads and other electronic equipment that foster awareness through access to news from many other countries. With education, travel and internet access, the young people of Saudi Arabia realise that their country and their personal freedom are imperilled by men who wish women to remain slaves.
Despite these positive points, I must sadly confess that even after years of toiling to create change in the lives of women in Saudi Arabia, the result is erratic and unpredictable. No rules are clearly set when it comes to females. All decisions pertaining to female behaviour still remain in the hands of the men ruling a family. If the men in a woman’s family are educated and fair-minded, females have the opportunity for happiness. If the men in a woman’s family are unenlightened and cruel, females suffer due to male ignorance.
When I was a child, life was routinely brutal for all women of Saudi Arabia. Now that I am an adult, some women have benefited from change – but still the quality of life for a female in Saudi Arabia is dependent on males, who have the power to refuse freedom.
My friends, here is what life is like for Saudi women in the twenty-first century:
• I live in a country where I know a woman who graduated at the top of her class and is a respected physician.
• I live in a country where I know of a young child whose mother was not allowed legal custody after a divorce, even though the child was only a baby. This baby girl was brutally raped to the death by her father, a Saudi Muslim cleric.
• I live in a country where I know a woman who successfully manages her own business and who is creating havoc for her male competitors in similar businesses.
• I live in a country where a cleric has ruled that a ten-year-old girl who is sexually abused on a daily basis by her 35-year-old husband must remain in that marriage. The clerics ruled that it is unfair to take the chance of marriage away from any young girl.
• I live in a country where most girls are being educated and those girls take their education very seriously.
• I live in a country where only 15 per cent of the workforce is female because most fathers or husbands still insist that a woman’s sole place is in the home, even if the woman is highly educated and wishes to work.
• I live in a country where women are still not allowed to drive a car.
• I live in a country where clerics ruled that a woman should be lashed for daring to drive her young son to school.
• I live in a country where women must still gain permission from a male guardian to work and to travel, where female rebellion can still cost a woman her life.
• I live in a country where a number of women defy the men who rule them, yet the men in their families have not called for the women’s deaths.
• I live in a country where most females obey their mother and father as to the selection of the man who will be their husband. Although it is said that women have the right to say no, few will do so, as they feel such disobedience will dishonour their parents.
• I live in a country where women can reach great heights in their careers and where many women live in happy marriages.
• I live in a country where many women live miserably and are confined to their homes, unable to make the simplest of personal decisions, such as the right to take their young children and leave their husbands, whether from personal unhappiness or brutal abuse.
• I live in a country where any man is free to emotionally abuse, beat or even murder the women of his family without facing communal condemnation or legal penalty.
• I live in a country where most men and women frown upon such behaviour.
• I live in a country ruled by a king who came to maturity at a time when women’s feelings and rights never enjoyed consideration, but this king, King Abdullah, has made the cause of women a top priority.
Greater reform is urgently needed, for nothing is predictable when it comes to women’s lives in Saudi Arabia. And so now we push for the kind of change that brings guarantees: we need to make it illegal for a man to abuse any woman. We must push for the kind of change that gives an adult female the right to make personal choices.
Happily, I am no longer alone in my quest to bring change to my country. There are many Saudi women who are pushing for positive transformation. Members of my family know some of these women. I believe that the world would like to hear their extraordinary stories. For this reason, I have once again ventured beyond my safety zone to tell the world the truth about Saudi Arabia. I want to tell you all that is happening in my land.
In Princess: More Tears to Cry I will reveal changes in my personal life. There is much to tell about members of my family, the lives of my children and grandchildren, and sisters and nieces and nephews. Due to his annoying personality, there are additional surprising stories to share about my brother Ali. My father is still with the living, but he has aged poorly. Sadly, he is still a man who believes that males should rule and females should obediently submit.
Nothing is more important than knowing about the lives of brave women, however. I believe that readers want to know what is happening to ordinary Saudi women, those who do not have the opportunities brought about by wealth. These women face many challenges unknown to the royal women and for that reason I hold them in the highest regard.
I have selected ten women from many who have a story that should be told. The Saudi women you will meet in the following pages are real – brave women who are forging a path that will open up a new world to all in Saudi Arabia.
Although the years of my life have passed too quickly, positive change in the lives of women in my country has moved much too slowly. But I thank God that I lived to see the day when a large number of Saudi women have the opportunity to achieve their dreams. I also thank God that I am in a unique position to tell you about these extraordinary women.
Meantime, the women of Saudi Arabia, whether royal or not, are pushing against 2,000 years of history. Our only hope is to push together. We are reaching out for your help. May God guide your hand to our hands. If all women come together under the blessings of God, perhaps one day there will be a queen of Saudi Arabia.
With heartfelt good wishes for all who so kindly care about me, and other women in Saudi Arabia,
Princess Sultana Al Sa’ud