By Huma Yusuf
Last Sunday, as the Long March heated up and tear-gas shells and stones littered the entrance to the Lahore High Court, news broke of Mukhtar Mai’s marriage to Nasir Abbas Gabol, a police constable who was assigned to protect her. The news unleashed a media firestorm that says more about international perceptions of Pakistan and the fallacy of objective journalism than it does about Mai’s matrimonial circumstances.
Many quirks about the way Mai’s wedding was reported are worth noting. Local and international papers alike continue to identify Mai as a ‘gang-rape victim’ even while celebrating her successes as a women’s rights activist who fought her rapists in court and established the first girls’ school in Meerwala as well as several women’s centres. The Urdu-language press in Pakistan emphasized the fact that Mai had married a police constable in headlines and photo captions. Given the tainted reputations of low-level police officers in this country, dwelling on his profession can be read as a way to suggest that rape victims get what they deserve.
Meanwhile, the international press largely twisted coverage of Mai’s marriage to make it seem like the ultimate good news story. Indeed, as civilian-police clashes erupted in Lahore, Mai’s news made for the perfect ‘happy ending’ narrative that no one at that time thought the Long March would deliver. Juxtaposed with the ‘failed state’ doom and gloom being prompted by the showdown between the government and protestors, Mai’s wedding delivered foreign desk editors the positivity needed to balance their coverage of Pakistan. As a result, the internet is now brimming with reports of Mai’s nuptials that are contradictory and confused.
The New York Times tried to keep things upbeat by describing Mai as a stigma-shattering crusader who had become a giggling bundle of joy on the occasion of her wedding. This is the first quote from her in the story:
“He says he madly fell in love with me,” Ms. Mukhtar said with a big laugh when asked what finally persuaded her to say yes.
But the cracks appear to those who keep reading, only to discover that Mai did not marry Gabol for love, but rather to save his first wife from the fate of a divorcee.
Four months ago, he tried to kill himself by taking sleeping pills. “The morning after he attempted suicide, his wife and parents met my parents but I still refused,” Ms. Mukhtar said.
Mr. Gabol then threatened to divorce his first wife, Shumaila.
Ms. Shumaila, along with Mr. Gabol’s parents and sisters, tried to talk Ms. Mukhtar into marrying him, taking on the status of second wife. In Pakistan, a man can legally have up to four wives.
It was her concern about Ms. Shumaila, Ms. Mukhtar said, that moved her to relent.
“I am a woman and can understand the pain and difficulties faced by another woman,” Ms. Mukhtar said. “She is a good woman.”
Although the run-up to Mai’s marriage is more grim than glamorous – she had vowed never to marry, but relented when Gabol attempted to commit suicide and then threatened to divorce his first wife – the British daily, The Independent, spun it as another one of her admirable victories.
By marrying, she has defeated another stigma for rape victims in Pakistani society. Ms Mai, named Glamour magazine’s Woman of the Year in 2005, met Mr Gabol in 2002 when he was posted to the police station in her village after the rape. His parents approached her 18 months ago with the offer of marriage but she declined. Having threatened to kill himself, the officer said he’d divorce his first wife if she did not agree. Eventually, his first wife’s family met Ms Mai and persuaded her to accede to his request.
For their part, Pakistani bloggers were grateful for the distraction from depressing Long March news and took it upon themselves to shower Mai with blessings and felicitations. Changing Up Pakistan (CHUP), for example, recasts Gabol – who should be maligned for mistreating his first wife by threatening her with divorce – as “lovestruck” and reframes the marriage as Mai’s attempt to crush female oppression.