The day they forbade me from riding a bicycle

By Hayat al-Zein – Lebanese journalist

When I decided to make friends with a bicycle for my daily commute, the reality of what followed turned out to be in sharp contrast with what I’d had in mind. All it took was a short trip through the streets of Tripoli, in northern Lebanon, to make that clear.

“Are you trying to embarrass us? Go buy yourself a car and ride in that,” someone I know said to me when he saw me. He started asking me questions, as if I’d committed a crime for which I had to sit through a whole interrogation. Because in the eyes of some narrow-minded societies, a woman riding a bicycle is considered immoral and even contrary to Sharia. I remember going home that day having completely gone back on my decision. I would walk instead or take a taxi to get around.

I remember very well the face of a woman I saw arguing with her husband on the seashore one day. It was a heated discussion, she insisting that her husband allow her to ride a bicycle, and he continually refusing and insulting her. Their voices were so loud that I heard the whole thing, including her ultimately yielding to him and conceding her simple, humble request. People sometimes give up what they want because of something someone said to them, or some situation they found themselves in. Even if they wanted it really badly, their wish is stopped in its tracks. Just like what happened with me: I changed my mind because of something someone said, despite how determined I’d been.

Despite the economic crisis we are suffering through in Lebanon, some people still find the time to be outraged over a woman riding a bicycle

I think now about how many words, how much nonsense has shattered people’s dreams, hopes, or futures. People could have been in the process of becoming the hero of their own stories when they were stopped and disappointed by these narrow-minded societies that still pass judgment according to outdated customs and traditions – people take from these traditions what they want and dismiss the rest, deeming things obsolete at random.

Why do some societies forbid women from riding bicycles but allow them to drive cars, for example? Because bicycles mean public space, in the open air and sun, such that women’s bodies are visible to the public and therefore subject to observation, stares, and judgment. This totally disregards the fact that women may choose bicycles because it suits their financial capabilities – or simply because they like bicycles. Considering the all-encompassing economic crisis in Lebanon, which is especially acute in the poor and neglected city of Tripoli, it is only natural for inhabitants to be looking for ways to reduce burdens and costs, like riding a bicycle, for example, as a way to save on fuel.

Bicycles mean public space, in the open air and sun, such that women’s bodies are visible to the public and therefore subject to observation, stares, and judgment…

The streets of Tripoli are teeming with bicycles, many women preferring them as a means to commute to work or run errands. But people’s gazes follow them everywhere, as if a woman on a bicycle were some strange astronomical phenomenon in an otherwise ordinary setting.

The era of the bicycle really began in the nineteenth century. Its shape and structure were changed multiple times, and it used to be known in some Arab countries as the “horse of the devil” or a “horse in the wind.” It did not look like the bicycle we have now come to know: it was heavy and expensive, but it did play a major role in the transformation of society as it was eventually considered the fastest means of ground transportation. Women benefited greatly from this in their arduous journey towards liberation from the cumbersome dresses they had to wear and the means of transportation that made sure they remained tethered to men.

Susan B. Anthony (1820-1906), a social activist and feminist, said in an interview with the press in 1896 that cycling contributed to the emancipation of women more than anything else in the world, noting that she felt happy every time she saw a woman cycling past her. In her opinion, it was an image that embodied a femininity free from all restrictions.

But in some of our present-day societies, more than a hundred years after Susan Anthony’s death, a woman riding a bicycle is still something shameful, disgraceful; women who cycle are even accused of wanting to show themselves off and draw attention by highlighting their charms. These are further attempts to tighten control over women’s lives, their private choices, and their simple desires. And despite the economic crisis we are suffering through in Lebanon, some people still find the time to be outraged over a woman riding a bicycle, as the world around us collapses – economically, politically, and socially.