Afghan Prosecutor Faces Criticism for Her Pursuit of ‘Moral Crimes’
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Version 0 of 1. HERAT, Afghanistan MARIA BASHIR, the only woman serving as chief prosecutor in any of Afghanistan’s 34 provinces, does more than just walk the line between the progressive and the conservative — she has, uncomfortably, come to personify it. Ms. Bashir, 42, is used to personal and even physical attacks from traditionalists because of her role as one of the country’s most senior female public officials and her work promoting women’s rights. The outside world recognizes the ideal she represents as well as the dangers. Last year, in Washington, Michelle Obama and Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton lauded her with a State Department International Women of Courage award. “For uneducated men, but also even educated men, it is still very difficult to accept that a woman should be in a position of making decisions,” Ms. Bashir said, talking in her office tucked behind a gantlet of metal detectors and glowering security guards at the government compound in the western province of Herat. But recently, Ms. Bashir has had to endure criticism of a less-familiar kind — that she has hurt women with her own conservatism. Ms. Bashir’s office is jailing women for so-called moral crimes — like adultery, or even attempted adultery, an accusation that opens the door to being jailed merely for being alone with a man who is not in the family — at nearly the highest pace in Afghanistan, according to government records. The country’s laws, though they have been changing over the past decade, are still criticized by human rights groups as being particularly harsh for women. And many women are languishing in jail on adultery convictions even though they were the victims of rape, forced into prostitution, or simply ran away from abusive homes. Ms. Bashir insists that she must uphold the law of the land, even as she works to improve opportunities for Afghan women. But concern over her prosecution statistics this fall sent ripples through the human rights community in Afghanistan. Most rights advocates express respect for her. Still, she has become the focus of a whole body of disquieting questions for international officials working here: How far should you support a woman who personally represents change but also consistently enforces customs that the West sees as discriminatory? How far and how long can you push another society to change, and when do you accept it and compromise? In its way, too, her case restates the questions dogging the entire American involvement in Afghanistan: Is the United States here merely to fight the Taliban or rebuild the country along Western lines? And now that the United States has said it is leaving, what progress has really been won, and what will endure when it is gone? Ms. Bashir knows how discrimination feels personally. She was a prosecutor in Herat, her husband’s home province, but had to give up her job when the Taliban came to power in the 1990s. She went underground, furtively teaching women and girls from her neighborhood in her home. AFTER the Taliban fell, she got her job back and has been the chief prosecutor in Herat for the past five years, and a focus of attention for the international community. She has worked with the United Nations, giving lectures at high schools and universities titled, “If I Did It, You Can Do It, Too.” In those speeches, and in other settings both public and private, she urges Afghan girls and young women to expand their ambitions and strive for jobs outside the home as lawyers or doctors. For many in this country, hers is an unwelcome message. During a recent interview in her office, Ms. Bashir was methodical, even understated, as she discussed much of her work. But when the talk turned to the patriarchal society that dominates here, her eyes showed the fire that distinguishes her — and has helped her survive — in a place where women in powerful posts are rare. “We have the mullahs, we have the former jihadis,” she said. “They don’t spare any effort to weaken or defame you. They talk about your clothes; they talk about the fact you have been talking to foreigners and talking to men.” Her enemies do more than just talk. The son of one of her prosecutors was mistaken for hers, kidnapped and later killed. Constant threats, and sporadic attacks, have led her to home-school one of her three children and to send her oldest son to safety in Germany, where her sisters live. The United States pays for her two armored vehicles and eight security guards, she said. Nevertheless, there has been progress here. About half of the students in schools and universities in Herat are female. The fact that more women are coming forward to seek protection under a new law, the Elimination of Violence Against Women Act, shows that women possess growing confidence in the legal system. Her province is one of the top ones for registering cases under the new law. “They know about their rights,” she said, “and they are slowly believing in their abilities.” Even so, it is not enough, she warned. When she gives talks in Kabul and the men in the audience nod their heads, she tells them that they may approve of giving women freedoms in principle, but that they do not do it for their own wives. THE fracas about her prosecutions began in earnest in October after The Times of London published an article noting that her province was at the top of the list for jailing women on adultery charges. (Precise data in Afghanistan is notoriously hard to come by, however; reporting by The New York Times suggests that by December, Herat was actually second to Kabul.) According to Afghan and Western officials, about 76 of the 136 women jailed in Herat had been convicted of adultery, or the intent to commit it. The United Nations says the number could be closer to 100 women. Ms. Bashir’s expression changes, and her eyes dim, when the criticism is mentioned. She says the reason Herat has so many cases may be that it is a big province, and has growing problems of drug addiction and prostitution, which fuel moral crimes. She points out that she has jailed men as well as women on adultery charges, and after investigating the evidence has dismissed more false accusations against women than she has prosecuted. She insists, too, that she does not prosecute rape victims. But she is bound to deal with all the cases that Herat’s relatively diligent police force brings to her, she says. And most of all, she has to uphold the law. “I want to be an enforcer of the law rather than human rights,” she said adamantly. She suspects the publication of the statistics may be another attack by critics who want her gone. “It is very difficult for a woman to work in Afghanistan, especially if you have an important position,” she said, her eyes flashing once again. “You have to deal with thousands of political conspiracies and problems.” Despite the controversy, support among her Afghan admirers has not ebbed. “If she didn’t do this, she would be thrown out of office,” said Manizha Naderi, executive director of Women for Afghan Women, which runs shelters for abused women. “The law is the problem, and not Maria Bashir.” The United States has reiterated its support. “She has fought courageously for the future of her country on many fronts and is a woman to be admired for those achievements,” David Snepp, a spokesman at the United States Embassy in Kabul, said in a statement. Some human rights campaigners are disappointed that Ms. Bashir is not going further to change a justice system they regard as still deeply flawed. “The fact that you see so many of these cases coming out of a particular province tells you more about the police, the prosecutor and the judiciary than it tells you about the women,” said Heather Barr, Afghanistan researcher for Human Rights Watch, who published a report on moral crimes in March. “She is brave and she is a pioneer, but nobody is above scrutiny.” <NYT_AUTHOR_ID> <p>Habib Zahori and Jawad Sukhanyar contributed reporting from Kabul, Afghanistan. |