Palestinians in the diaspora: How the nuclear family unit is challenging the patriarchy

From Palestine to Saudi Arabia

M.M. passed away on 1 December 1992, aged 45. Two weeks later, on 16 December 1992, his tenth child, a daughter, came into the world.

Save for that youngest daughter who was born in Palestine, M.M.'s other children (five sons and four daughters) were born in Saudi Arabia.

After graduating from An-Najah National University in Nablus, where he majored in history and geography, M.M. headed to Saudi Arabia for work, along with his newly wedded wife, who was 17 at the time.

Their story is not unique. Countless other Palestinian couples also travelled to Gulf countries in search of job opportunities and a better future for their families. This was particularly true after the successive tragedies that befell the Palestinian people, starting from the Nakba in 1948, to the Six-Day War in 1967, and the gruelling aftermath of continuous Israeli occupation.

This suffering was only compounded by various societal and economic hardships that Palestinians faced every day from unemployment and poverty to patriarchy, tribalism, and social backwardness.

To win the heart of his beloved, M.M. had to compete with a long line of suitors from her family or from the village. At the time, the young man possessed what French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu calls "social and cultural capital", thanks to his education.

He stood out from the more traditional suitors in Palestinian villages, whose eligibility came down to a combination of family (or tribal) influence, land possession, economic strength, and social status.

Being an educated man in 1970s rural Palestine was a new – and valuable – currency.

But even that didn't give men freedom from the traditional tribal mentality. Nor did it give them the freedom to "choose". After all, the typical Arab family is built upon a gender- and age-based hierarchy, as sociologist Halim Barakat says in his book "Arab Society in the 20th Century" (2000).

For her part, the young woman came from the most prominent family in the village. How would her clan and cousins accept her marriage to an outsider? (At the time, that meant a man belonging to a different clan.)

But despite these obstacles, love prevailed. Like most young men his age, M.M. courted his wife-to-be and announced his desire for her hand in marriage.

In rural Palestine, there was nowhere better to "propose" than near the village's water spring.

M.M. married the woman he loved. Shortly afterwards, they made their way to Saudi Arabia. There, he worked first as a schoolteacher, and later as a headmaster, while his wife stayed at home to look after their children. Initially, she lacked skills like cooking or laundry, but she eventually learned her way around managing a household.

In Najran, miles away from the extended family they left behind in Palestine, the nuclear family of M.M. and his wife was starting to take shape.

Whereas typical married couples in the village were still living with their grandparents (or other relatives), this pair found themselves forming friendships and connections with other expatriate Palestinian and Arab families in a brand-new country.

The bonds they forged were so strong that they persevere until today, even after their return to Palestine.

From extended to nuclear

While in Najran, the couple began to consider returning home to settle down in Palestine.

After all, the main purpose of moving to Saudi Arabia was to save up and achieve financial security. They wanted to build a foundation for a good life, despite social, economic, and political hardships.

M.M. started to send money back home to his brothers, asking them to build and furnish a family home for him in a nearby village.

His wife and kids went back to Palestine first. M.M. stayed in Najran for another year. A few months after joining his family in Palestine, however, he passed away.

In his book, Halim Barakat says: "At the essence of its organisation, the typical Arab family is structured according to a hierarchy of male supremacy over women and younger members," stating that this "autocratic patriarchal hierarchy is not confined to the family, but extends to society as a whole."

Leaving one's extended family is, therefore, a crucial step toward the development of the nuclear family, helping its members to branch away from patriarchy and male dominance.

After M.M.'s death, his wife took on the responsibility of raising their family. She refused to stay in the village, where she knew she would be treated with pity. More importantly, she knew she would be confined to a patriarchal reality that exercised familial and social dominance over women and children. So, she decided to move to Jerusalem.

A father's footsteps

A few decades earlier, in the aftermath of the Six-Day War in 1967, her father had implemented a tactic of resistance against colonial powers, which his daughter would one day leverage, tkoo.

After losing their homes and IDs in the war, her father had registered himself and all his children as residents of Jerusalem, even though that wasn't the case. Consequently, he acquired the "blue ID", issued by Israeli authorities to Palestinians in East Jerusalem and Israel, and passed it on to all his children.

Years later, his widowed daughter would follow in his footsteps.

Once in Jerusalem, she officially applied for a family reunion with her sons and daughters – the oldest of whom was 14 at the time – and registered them under her blue ID, which would grant them their own Jerusalemite IDs.

Escaping to Jerusalem was her best bet against the patriarchal and tribal dominance she and her children would have otherwise faced.

She didn't need to work. She was entitled to a salary from Israeli social security as well as monthly childcare subsidy payments. Together, these sufficed in covering their basic needs.

In a 2006 study entitled "Childhood in the Arab Society of Israel", sociologist Afnan Masarweh theorises that the breakup of traditional Arab families is the result of several factors, including the shift from an agricultural society to an industrial one – as well as the state's assumption of responsibilities of social care and welfare.

This diminished the traditional role of the family as a protector and caretaker of its members, according to the study.

Masarweh's conclusions corroborate the findings of researcher Mahmoud Miaari in another 2006 study, "Authoritative Tendencies and Practices in the Palestinian Family", in which he states that "authority in the modern Palestinian family is no longer patriarchal."

Changing roles

When her eldest son graduated from school, the widowed mother helped him get a driver's license, which he used to transport goods – and people. In this way, he was able to contribute to the family's finances and help provide for his siblings.

As time went by, her other sons grew up and began working during holidays from school to create additional income for the family. Upon finishing their education, they found jobs, too. They eventually married and formed families of their own.

As for the daughters, they enrolled at various universities in Palestine. Four of the five are now married and have children of their own. Like their mother, and like her father before her, the children who married men without a blue ID are working to pass their ID onto their offspring – and even their husbands.

This family is just one example of how education and employment can help to not only break down patriarchal norms, but also provide Palestinian women with a greater role, and a higher decision-making power, within the family.

This is carried down to those daughters who chose to keep their blue ID and extend it to their children, as they also had to make a decision to reside within Jerusalem.

Not only that, but each of the daughters chose their partners of their own volition – in consultation with their family – which is a further testament to a considerable shift in the hierarchical structure of the traditional Palestinian family.

Waves of change

In his 1992 book "Neopatriarchy, A Theory of Distorted Change in Arab Society", Palestinian history professor Hisham Sharabi said most Arabs prefer to live within their extended families, which is a manifestation of male dominance and patriarchy, whereas a nuclear family is instead characterised by democracy and equal rights.

The nuclear shaping of this family – and their children's subsequent formation of their own families – helped them to evolve and move across social and economic classes, relieved from the supremacy of a conventional, male-led structure that hinders progress and development.

In a broader sense, this weakening of the patriarchy has created waves within economic transformations, democratic relations, and the status of women in society.

At the most basic level, women are now free to choose their partners, and the stereotypical gender roles – once rigid and uncompromising – are now split more evenly among family members.

It's clear, then, that migration, education, and employment have all contributed to shaking conventional, male-dominated social and cultural practices.

But while some have liberated themselves from the shackles of patriarchy, the average Palestinian family still has a long way to go.