Sex and the Citadel

Sex and the Citadel Plot Summary

Introduction

In the heart of Cairo, a young couple navigates the complex terrain between desire and tradition. They are university graduates in their late twenties, economically unable to marry yet biologically mature - a situation faced by millions across the Arab world. This tension between sexual development and delayed marriage represents just one facet of the profound transformations in Arab sexuality over centuries. From the sexually explicit literature of medieval Baghdad to the revolutionary spaces of Tahrir Square, sexual politics has been intertwined with broader questions of identity, power, and cultural authenticity. The Arab world's sexual history defies simple narratives of progress or decline. Instead, it reveals a complex interplay between indigenous traditions, colonial influences, religious interpretations, and economic pressures. Through examining changing attitudes toward marriage, female bodies, sexual minorities, and youth sexuality, we gain insight into how societies negotiate between tradition and modernity. This historical perspective offers valuable context for anyone seeking to understand contemporary debates about gender and sexuality in the region - from policymakers and scholars to those with personal connections to these societies undergoing profound transformation.

Chapter 1: The Islamic Golden Age: Sexual Openness in Classical Arabic Literature

The Abbasid Empire, whose golden age spanned the eighth to tenth centuries, witnessed a remarkable flowering of Arab intellectual and cultural achievement. Baghdad, its magnificent capital, housed the famous Bayt al-Hikma (House of Wisdom), where scholars preserved and expanded upon Greek and Persian classics while making groundbreaking contributions to mathematics, medicine, astronomy, and numerous other fields. This period saw the establishment of major schools of Islamic jurisprudence and vibrant religious debate, with independent interpretation (ijtihad) flourishing in an atmosphere of intellectual freedom. Alongside scientific and philosophical achievements, the arts blossomed - including works of a surprisingly explicit sexual nature. A rich tradition of Arabic writing on sexuality emerged, encompassing literature, poetry, medical treatises, and practical manuals. Many of these works were authored by religious scholars who saw no contradiction between faith and frank discussion of human sexuality. As Tunisian sociologist Abdelwahab Bouhdiba observed, "It was not a coincidence that at the height of Islamic culture there was a flowering of sexuality." The "Encyclopedia of Pleasure" by Ali ibn Nasr al-Katib, written in Baghdad around the tenth century, exemplifies this tradition. Its forty-three chapters cover heterosexual and homosexual practices with remarkable openness, presenting sex as God's gift to humanity, meant to be enjoyed within appropriate boundaries. The text shows considerable insight into female sexuality, offering detailed classifications of women's libidos and types of orgasms. It recommends romance, patience, and techniques to satisfy female desire - reflecting a culture that valued women's sexual fulfillment rather than merely male gratification. This sexual openness existed within religious frameworks rather than in opposition to them. Islamic teachings recognized sexual pleasure as a divine blessing, with hadith (sayings of the Prophet Muhammad) encouraging sexual satisfaction within marriage for both men and women. The Qur'an itself speaks of sexual relations between spouses as a source of comfort and mercy. This integration of sexuality and spirituality created space for discussions that might seem surprisingly progressive even by contemporary standards. By the late nineteenth century, this frank and celebratory writing on sexuality had largely disappeared from public discourse. The decline coincided with broader intellectual stagnation and growing European influence across the region. Arab intellectuals, confronting Western stereotypes about Oriental sensuality and decadence, began to distance themselves from their own sexually expressive heritage. Many reinterpreted this historical openness as evidence of moral decline rather than cultural confidence, adopting more conservative sexual attitudes partly in response to colonial humiliation. The rediscovery of this sexually expressive heritage has important implications for contemporary debates. It challenges both Western stereotypes about inherent Islamic sexual repression and conservative Muslim claims that sexual openness is a foreign import. As Lebanese publisher Joumana Haddad notes, "If you go back to the tenth and eleventh centuries, you would find wonderful texts in Arabic, even obscene, that talked about the body in such a wonderful way. And then something happened; there is a missing link." Understanding this historical trajectory provides essential context for those seeking to forge a more balanced sexual future in the Arab world - one that might draw inspiration from indigenous traditions rather than simply importing Western models.

Chapter 2: Colonial Encounters: East-West Sexual Perceptions (1800s-1950s)

The colonial encounter between the Arab world and European powers fundamentally transformed sexual discourses on both sides. When Napoleon invaded Egypt in 1798, he brought not only military forces but also scholars eager to document every aspect of Egyptian society. European travelers and writers like Gustave Flaubert, who visited Egypt in 1849-1850, filled their journals with detailed accounts of sexual customs and encounters with local women. These writings often revealed more about European fantasies than Egyptian realities, constructing an image of the "Orient" as a place of exotic sensuality and moral laxity. This European gaze did not go unchallenged. Egyptian intellectuals who traveled to Europe returned with their own observations about Western sexual mores. Rifa'a al-Tahtawi, sent to Paris in the 1820s by Egypt's modernizing ruler Muhammad Ali, wrote extensively about French customs in his travelogue. While impressed by certain aspects of European society, he praised what he perceived as their moral stance on homosexuality: "They do not have any propensity towards the love of boys or the celebration of its pursuit. This is a lost sentiment among them and one that is rejected by their nature and morals." This observation reveals how dramatically sexual stereotypes have shifted over time - the West, once praised by some Arabs for sexual restraint, is now widely criticized for permissiveness. By the early twentieth century, the colonial experience had produced profound changes in Arab sexual discourse. Indigenous traditions of explicit sexual writing were increasingly suppressed, partly in response to European stereotypes about Oriental decadence. Egyptian intellectuals, influenced by Victorian sensibilities and eager to counter images of Eastern moral inferiority, began distancing themselves from their own sexual literary heritage. Religious scholars and reformers like Muhammad Abduh sought to "purify" Islam from what they considered corrupting influences, including traditional sexual openness. The most dramatic critic of Western sexual influence was Sayyid Qutb, whose visit to America in the late 1940s cemented his view of Western sexual freedom as moral decay. His writings expressed horror at what he perceived as American sexual depravity - dance halls, mixed-gender swimming, and women's fashion. Qutb portrayed American society as obsessed with physical display and lacking spiritual foundation. This framing of the West as a cesspit of sexual chaos - a sort of reverse Orientalism - continues to influence Islamic conservative rhetoric today. The colonial period created what Egyptians call 'uqdit al-khawaga, or "foreigner complex" - a sense of inferiority to the West that manifested in complex ways regarding sexuality. As Arab intellectuals questioned why Europe was ascendant while their civilization declined, some began to wonder if their sexual proclivities were connected to their downfall. This anxiety contributed to increasingly conservative sexual attitudes, as moral reform was seen as necessary for national revival. The colonial experience thus paradoxically led many Arabs to adopt more restrictive sexual values partly in reaction to Western stereotypes about Oriental sensuality. By the mid-twentieth century, the Arab world found itself caught between competing sexual visions - the remembered openness of its own tradition, the perceived licentiousness of Western modernity, and an emerging conservative Islamic counter-narrative. This tension would shape Arab sexual politics for decades to come, as nations struggled to define their own path between tradition and modernity, religion and secularism, in the intimate realm of sexuality. The colonial encounter had permanently altered how Arabs viewed their own sexual heritage, creating ruptures in cultural transmission that continue to reverberate in contemporary debates about authentic sexual values.

Chapter 3: Religious Revival: The Rise of Sexual Conservatism (1960s-1990s)

The period from the 1960s through the 1990s witnessed a profound transformation in Arab sexual politics, driven by the rise of Islamic revivalism. Following the devastating Arab defeat in the 1967 war with Israel, many experienced a crisis of faith in secular nationalism. This military humiliation was widely interpreted as divine punishment for straying from Islamic principles, creating fertile ground for religious revival movements that emphasized moral reform, including sexual conservatism. As one Egyptian saying from this period went, "We tried socialism, we tried capitalism, now let's try Islam." President Anwar Sadat's "Infitah" (opening) policies in the 1970s accelerated this trend in unexpected ways. While Sadat initially encouraged Islamic groups as a counterweight to leftist opposition, economic liberalization had far-reaching social consequences. Millions of Egyptian men migrated to the oil-rich Gulf states for work, returning with not only remittances but also the more conservative Wahhabi interpretations of Islam prevalent in Saudi Arabia. These interpretations emphasized strict gender segregation, female modesty, and the centralization of sexual expression exclusively within marriage. The visible manifestation of this Islamic revival was the dramatic increase in veiling among women. In the 1960s, few urban Egyptian women wore hijab; by the 1990s, the majority did. This shift reflected complex motivations beyond simple religiosity - the veil offered protection from sexual harassment in increasingly crowded urban spaces, signaled respectability for women entering male-dominated workplaces, and provided an affordable way to meet fashion requirements while expressing piety. The hijab became what anthropologists called a "portable curtain," allowing women to navigate public spaces while maintaining symbolic separation from men. Media and popular culture reflected and reinforced these changing sexual norms. Egyptian cinema, once known for romantic storylines and revealing costumes, increasingly featured religious themes and modestly dressed actresses. Television serials during Ramadan emphasized traditional family values. Religious cassette tapes and later satellite channels featuring charismatic preachers like Amr Khaled popularized an accessible, modern version of Islamic piety that emphasized sexual restraint as central to religious identity. These cultural products offered a vision of authentic Islamic sexuality defined in opposition to perceived Western decadence. The emergence of Islamic fundamentalism, particularly through figures like Hassan al-Banna (founder of the Muslim Brotherhood) and Sayyid Qutb, provided intellectual frameworks for sexual conservatism. Qutb's writings portrayed Western sexual freedom as "licentiousness" and moral decay, positioning sexual restraint as essential to Islamic authenticity. This framing of the West as a cesspit of sexual chaos - a sort of reverse Orientalism - continues to influence Islamic conservative rhetoric today. Sexual conservatism became not merely a religious obligation but a form of cultural resistance against Western influence. By the 1990s, this conservative turn had produced a generation of young Arabs caught between contradictory messages about sexuality. Raised with religious teachings emphasizing sexual purity, they faced economic realities that delayed marriage, the traditional outlet for sexual expression. Meanwhile, globalization through satellite television, tourism, and eventually the internet exposed them to alternative sexual values. This tension between religious ideals, economic constraints, and global influences would create the conditions for the "marriage crisis" and youth sexual frustration that would contribute to the revolutionary moment of 2011.

Chapter 4: Marriage Crisis: Economic Pressures and Traditional Values

Marriage in the Arab world represents far more than a union between two individuals—it serves as the cornerstone of society, a complex institution where personal desires, family expectations, religious obligations, and economic realities converge. For centuries, it has functioned as the sole legitimate context for sexual expression, the foundation of family formation, and the primary marker of adult status. However, by the early 2000s, economic factors had created a situation where many young Arabs found themselves unable to marry despite reaching biological maturity. The statistics tell a stark story: the average age of marriage for Egyptian men had risen to nearly 30, while women typically married in their mid-20s - a dramatic increase from previous generations when teenage marriage was common. The primary driver was economic: establishing a marital home required substantial resources in a context of high youth unemployment, housing shortages, and rising expectations for consumer goods. Young men needed to accumulate savings for mahr (bride price), housing, furniture, and appliances before proposing marriage, a process that could take a decade or more of precarious employment and extreme frugality. This delay created what anthropologist Diane Singerman called a state of "waithood" - an extended adolescence where young adults remained financially dependent on parents while biologically mature. According to national surveys, more than 90 percent of Egyptians regardless of age, sex, or education considered marriage the natural and desirable state. Yet economic realities made this universal aspiration increasingly difficult to achieve. As one Egyptian man who participated in the 2011 uprising noted with his protest sign: "GO, President Mubarak, I WANT TO GET MARRIED." This seemingly odd revolutionary demand perfectly encapsulates how political and economic conditions directly impact the most personal aspects of life. The psychological and social consequences of this marriage crisis were profound. Young men experienced frustration and diminished self-worth, unable to fulfill their expected role as providers. Young women faced pressure to maintain virginity and reputation during an increasingly lengthy period before marriage, often restricting their movements and interactions to avoid suspicion. Studies from Egypt and other Arab countries showed high rates of sexual dysfunction among married couples, with nearly 70 percent of married women in one study reporting some form of sexual difficulty. These problems stemmed from various sources: lack of sexual education, communication barriers between spouses, and changing gender dynamics as more women entered the workforce. Alternative forms of marriage emerged in response to these pressures. Zawaj 'urfi (customary marriage) became increasingly common among youth in Egypt and elsewhere. These marriages, not recorded by the state, allowed couples to have religiously sanctioned relationships without the financial burden of official marriage. While religiously permissible according to some scholars, these unions provided women with few legal protections and were generally viewed as a temporary solution rather than a lifestyle choice. In wealthier Gulf states, government marriage funds subsidized wedding costs for citizens, though these programs reinforced rather than challenged traditional gender expectations. The marriage crisis revealed deep contradictions in Arab sexual politics. While religious discourse emphasized early marriage as protection against sexual temptation, economic policies failed to create conditions where such marriages were viable. Parents who insisted on their daughters' virginity until marriage simultaneously demanded that potential sons-in-law demonstrate substantial financial resources before approving matches. The state promoted family values while pursuing economic policies that undermined family formation. By the late 2000s, these tensions between economic realities and sexual ideals had created a pressure cooker of youth frustration that would contribute to the revolutionary moment of 2011, when young people across the region rose up demanding dignity, opportunity, and the chance to build adult lives.

Chapter 5: Digital Revolution: Youth Sexuality in the Internet Age

The decade preceding the Arab uprisings witnessed an unprecedented expansion of digital spaces where young Arabs could explore alternative sexual discourses. Internet penetration grew rapidly in urban areas, with cybercafés providing access even to those without home connections. These virtual spaces allowed young people to discuss sexuality with a freedom impossible in physical public spaces, where social surveillance enforced conservative norms. For a generation caught between religious sexual ideals and delayed marriage, the internet offered both information and connection previously unavailable. Blogs, forums, and social media platforms became sites of sexual expression and debate. Anonymous accounts allowed young Arabs to share personal experiences, seek advice about relationships, and access information about sexuality unavailable through official channels. Women particularly benefited from this digital revolution, finding spaces to articulate experiences of harassment, question double standards, and challenge patriarchal interpretations of religion. As Marwa Rakha, an Egyptian advice columnist, observed: "Even those girls who don't go out, they're online, chatting with four or five men at the same time." While these conversations remained largely hidden from older generations, they created communities of support and validation for youth questioning traditional sexual norms. The digital realm also exposed young Arabs to global sexual discourses. Pornography, though officially banned in most Arab countries, became widely accessible, presenting sexual scripts that often contradicted religious teachings. Western films and television shows depicting premarital relationships, female sexual agency, and romantic love as the basis for partnership circulated widely. These alternative models did not simply replace traditional values but created hybrid understandings as young people attempted to reconcile religious commitments with desires for romantic fulfillment and sexual expression. Technology transformed how young people connected romantically. Mobile phones—prize possessions of more than half of young men and around a third of young women in Egypt—facilitated flirtation even in highly segregated societies. In Saudi Arabia, Bluetooth technology became a tool for connection in public spaces; young people at malls could switch their phones to "discoverable" mode and wait for messages from potential admirers nearby. These technological workarounds allowed youth to navigate strict social boundaries while creating new forms of intimacy and connection. Despite these digital opportunities, most unmarried youth remained under intense family surveillance. In Egypt, the vast majority lived with their parents until marriage, with only a small minority having their own bedrooms. This material dependence extended to social connections as well—wasta (family influence) remained crucial for navigating bureaucracy and finding opportunities. The consequences of discovery for those engaging in forbidden relationships could be severe, particularly for women, whose family honor and marriage prospects depended on perceptions of sexual purity. The information deficit regarding sexuality remained profound despite digital access. Young people engaged in sexual activity typically took few precautions, leaving themselves vulnerable to pregnancy and sexually transmitted infections. Common misconceptions flourished, such as beliefs that masturbation causes blindness or madness, menstrual blood is "rotten blood," and drinking tea or coffee excites girls into unseemly behavior. Initiatives like Shababna (Our Youth), a telephone help line staffed by physicians, emerged to answer young people's questions about health and sex, but faced significant cultural and political obstacles to providing comprehensive information. By 2010, these digital explorations had created a generation with significantly different sexual attitudes than their parents, even when outward behaviors remained compliant with traditional norms. Young Arabs increasingly distinguished between public performance of sexual propriety and private beliefs about sexual rights. While most maintained the importance of female virginity before marriage and the centrality of family approval in relationship formation, many also embraced concepts of romantic love, mutual sexual satisfaction, and personal choice in marriage partners. This tension between traditional sexual values and emerging desires for greater personal autonomy in intimate life would become one dimension of the broader political demands that erupted across the region in 2011.

Chapter 6: The Arab Spring: Sexual Politics in Revolutionary Spaces

The eighteen days that toppled Hosni Mubarak in early 2011 represented a brief but powerful moment of sexual politics reimagined. In Cairo's Tahrir Square, traditional gender boundaries temporarily dissolved as men and women protested side by side, slept in the same tents, and protected each other from security forces. Sexual harassment, normally pervasive in crowded public spaces, virtually disappeared within the square, replaced by a spirit of revolutionary solidarity and mutual respect. This experience challenged deeply held assumptions about gender segregation and female vulnerability, suggesting the possibility of new relations between men and women based on citizenship rather than sexual difference. Women played crucial roles in the uprising, not only as protesters but as organizers, documentarians, and medical volunteers. Female activists like Asmaa Mahfouz became iconic revolutionary voices, using social media to call Egyptians to the streets. The revolution temporarily elevated women's political participation from a "women's issue" to a matter of national liberation. For many female participants, this represented a profound shift - their bodies, so often defined primarily as sites of sexual honor, became instruments of political agency and national transformation. As one young woman observed: "I used to be this kind of shy person, and respectful of old people. But when I discovered we got rid of Mubarak—he was eightysomething—this somehow destroyed the old figure in my imagination." The revolutionary moment created unprecedented spaces for discussing previously taboo subjects. Sexual harassment, which had reached epidemic proportions in Egypt, became a topic of public debate. Activists like Nehad Abu Komsan of the Egyptian Center for Women's Rights found new audiences for their message that harassment is about security and government failings rather than women's behavior or dress. During the height of the protests, when men felt a sense of empowerment and purpose, their behavior toward women shifted dramatically. "Revolution gives people a sense of victory and dignity and hope," Abu Komsan observed. "Definitely, this makes their behavior better." However, the post-revolutionary period quickly revealed the limits of this transformative moment. As the unified opposition to Mubarak fragmented, sexual politics became a key battleground between competing visions for Egypt's future. The transitional military government conducted forced "virginity tests" on female protesters, reasserting state control over women's bodies. Sexual harassment returned to protest spaces, sometimes in organized form to discourage female participation. These developments revealed how sexual control functioned as a mechanism of political repression. The rise of Islamist political parties following Egypt's first free elections brought questions of gender and sexuality to the center of constitutional debates. The Muslim Brotherhood's Freedom and Justice Party, while avoiding the most conservative positions on gender, nevertheless promoted a vision of complementary rather than equal gender roles. More conservative Salafi parties advocated restrictions on women's dress, mobility, and public participation. Liberal and secular forces, meanwhile, positioned themselves as defenders of women's rights against Islamist encroachment, though their commitment to gender equality had limits. The case of Aliaa Elmahdy demonstrated the continuing power of sexual taboos even in revolutionary times. When she posted nude photos of herself online in 2011 as a political statement against censorship, her actions provoked widespread condemnation, with even liberal political groups distancing themselves from her. This reaction revealed the limits of revolutionary sexual politics - while many young Egyptians supported political freedom, far fewer were prepared to embrace sexual freedom as part of the revolutionary agenda. As one medical student in Tahrir Square insisted: "This is not the freedom we are aiming for. The political revolution will need a social revolution, but not a sexual one. No, no, no. Not in a hundred years."

Chapter 7: Future Trajectories: Negotiating Tradition and Change

The political upheavals that began in the Arab world in 2010 have raised profound questions about the future of sexual rights and freedoms in the region. The protests in Tahrir Square and elsewhere demonstrated the power of collective action to challenge entrenched authority, but whether this political awakening will translate into greater sexual autonomy remains uncertain. As one Egyptian activist observed: "The social phase of the revolution is just starting. For these changes to take place, it's going to need much time." The trajectory of sexual politics in the region will likely be shaped by several key factors: the evolution of religious discourse, economic development, technological change, and the ongoing negotiation between global and local values. Religious interpretation remains central to discussions of sexuality in the Arab world. While conservative religious voices gained political influence following the uprisings, there are also signs of emerging alternative religious discourses. Scholars like Tunisian professor Olfa Youssef are revisiting classical Islamic texts with fresh eyes, questioning traditional interpretations of passages related to sexuality. Some religious leaders are finding middle ground between tradition and contemporary realities. As one Damascus imam explained regarding homosexuality: "I tell them, 'I love you. You are my brother, and you are welcome at the mosque.' But I cannot tell him it is not haram." These nuanced approaches suggest possibilities for religious interpretations that maintain core values while acknowledging human diversity and complexity. Economic factors will continue to shape sexual politics in profound ways. The marriage crisis that contributed to revolutionary frustrations remains largely unresolved. Without economic opportunities that allow young people to establish independent households, traditional pathways to adult sexuality through early marriage will remain inaccessible to many. Women's increasing economic participation has already begun to alter power dynamics within families, as women with independent incomes gain greater leverage in marital decisions. As one Egyptian woman explained regarding her husband's improved sexual attentiveness: "Maybe because I earn more than him, maybe I will leave him and go to another man." Economic independence may gradually translate into greater sexual autonomy, particularly for women. Technology will likely remain a double-edged sword for sexual expression in the region. Digital platforms offer unprecedented access to information and connection, allowing young people to explore alternative sexual discourses and find community. However, these same technologies enable state surveillance and potential persecution. The case of Egyptian authorities using dating apps to entrap gay men demonstrates how digital tools can become mechanisms of control as well as liberation. Future technological developments will continue to create new spaces for sexual expression while also generating new vulnerabilities and forms of regulation. Perhaps the most promising developments are occurring at the individual and family level, as young people quietly negotiate greater personal freedom within their families. After the uprisings, some parents allowed their daughters more independence - staying alone in family apartments or traveling for work - that was previously unthinkable. These small shifts may eventually accumulate into broader social change. As one young woman from Upper Egypt vowed regarding her future children: "I will let her choose the person that her heart chooses and her feelings choose." Such intergenerational changes, while less visible than political protests, may ultimately prove more transformative for sexual rights in the region. For meaningful progress on sexual rights to occur, several elements must align: legal reforms that protect individual freedoms; educational initiatives that provide accurate information about sexuality; economic opportunities that allow young people to establish independent lives; and cultural shifts that recognize sexual rights as compatible with religious and social values. The Arab region began this decade with a political big bang; how that will shape, and in turn be shaped by, sexual life remains an open question. As Tunisian sociologist Abdelwahab Bouhdiba concluded: "To be a believer today is not to reproduce the old messages but to understand these messages and incorporate them into behavior that fits the demands of today."

Summary

The history of sexual politics in the Arab world reveals a complex trajectory that defies simple narratives of progress or decline. From the remarkably open sexual discourse of the Islamic Golden Age to the conservative turn following colonial encounters, from the marriage crisis produced by economic pressures to the momentary liberation of revolutionary spaces, sexuality has been a critical domain where broader social and political tensions play out. Throughout these transformations, Arabs have continuously negotiated between tradition and change, religious values and material realities, global influences and local authenticity. Sexual politics has never been merely a private matter but rather a dense transfer point for relations of power, as Michel Foucault observed - a lens through which we can understand broader struggles over identity, authority, and the boundaries of personal freedom. This historical perspective offers several insights for understanding contemporary sexual politics in the region and beyond. First, it reminds us that current conservative sexual norms are not timeless traditions but relatively recent developments shaped by specific historical circumstances. Second, it suggests that meaningful sexual rights must be grounded in indigenous cultural and religious frameworks rather than imposed through Western models. Third, it demonstrates the profound connection between economic conditions and sexual possibilities - without material security, sexual autonomy remains limited regardless of cultural attitudes. As the region continues to experience political and social transformation, these insights may help forge paths toward sexual rights that honor cultural specificity while expanding human freedom, reconciling religious values with respect for diversity, and integrating the lessons of the past with the possibilities of the future.

About Author

Loading...

Shereen El Feki

Shereen El Feki is a British journalist. She was born to a Welsh mother and an Egyptian father.

Read more