The new law, taking effect July 1, doesn’t specifically mention Shariah law, which broadly refers to codes within the Islamic legal system. Instead, it says courts, administrative agencies or state tribunals can’t base rulings on any foreign law or legal system that would not grant the parties the same rights guaranteed by state and U.S. constitutions.
During the Kansas Senate’s debate on the bill earlier this month, Sen. Susan Wagle, a Wichita Republican described a vote for the measure as a vote for women’s rights, adding, “They stone women to death in countries that have Shariah law.”
Hooper said supporters of such proposals have made it clear they are targeting Islamic law.
“Underlying all of this is demonizing Islam and marginalizing American Muslims,” he said.
I’ve made a personal decision regarding Islam. That decision is that I have no problem demonizing a religion that would even consider allowing:
Egypt’s National Council for Women (NCW) has appealed to the Islamist-dominated parliament not to approve two controversial laws on the minimum age of marriage and allowing a husband to have sex with his dead wife within six hours of her death according to a report in an Egyptian newspaper.
She was referring to two laws: one that would legalize the marriage of girls starting from the age of 14 and the other that permits a husband to have sex with his dead wife within the six hours following her death.
There are a lot of kooky laws still on the books, that we get to smile and shake our heads over, but when a contemporary parliament actively considers the merits of child marriage and necrophilia, then I seriously have no problem DEMONIZING THIS STUPID ASS RELIGION. There are a lot of religious activities that I find ridiculous, as I am agnostic, and take a dim view on the strict interpretation of any religious doctrine. I could point to many silly-ass traditions within the various Christian sects, but luckily they have no affect on me, because they are not LAWS.
When I was in Saudi, during Operation Determined Resolve (waste of time and money), there was a big to-do about women being allowed to walk around openly in uniform. Apparently, there were Saudi women who were protesting our presence. There was also a big issue about a woman getting chased around town, by her female relatives, and ultimately being stoned to death by the aforementioned relatives. The woman had dishonored them by having some type of interaction with a male. I don’t remember the specifics, I just remember being shocked that her own mother, sisters, and aunts would murder her for being caught with a man. I don’t recall it being a sexual relationship, perhaps they had just fallen in love, but the Saudi Wahabi sect of Islam is one of the most strict, and they have no mercy for women, gays, and dhimmis. During my tour in Saudi, we had the opportunity to visit downtown Riyadh, but all of the females had to wear abbayas and head coverings. This was for our own safety. We were informed, by an Army officer, that the Saudis were infamous for kidnapping women and forcing them to become sex slaves. They preferred blondes and redheads, but any non-Muslim was fair game. Riyadh was a fascinating city and I saw lots of contradictions and cultural particulars that seemed to be from a century, or more, passed.
Although we were supposed to always have a buddy, I was incredibly stupid and pig-headed, and wanted to wander around and explore. I didn’t want to be with a group of rowdy G.I.s, and no one else wanted to explore as I did. I was an idiot, in my pride and brazen attitude, when I think back to the chances that I took. Even so, I was able to interact with the people on a level that I might not have, were I with others. I haggled with shop owners, and was invited to have tea with some of them. I didn’t speak Arabic and they didn’t speak English, but for some reason they wanted a closer look at a foreigner, and I was happy to oblige because it gave me an opportunity to stare at them. One evening, people only go out shopping in the evenings when it is cool, I was wandering along the stalls in the open air market, and an old man came up to me, arms waving and disgust in his voice. He waved his arms and spoke harshly, and I kept trying to tell him that I didn’t understand what was wrong. Finally, one of the shopkeepers noticed the spectacle and translated the old man’s tirade into English. My head shawl had slipped down, and my hair was showing, which greatly offended the old man. I apologized and pulled the shawl up to my forehead, wrapping it around my neck. The old man walked away muttering, and the shopkeeper shrugged his shoulders in a what-are-you-gonna-do expression.
Every weekend we were allowed to go into town, but not on Friday nights because that was when they conducted the public punishments. We were not allowed to witness the whippings, beheading, and chopping off of hands. Apparently, the Saudi government didn’t want us to see this and then tell on them, I suppose they wanted to keep a shiny sparkly reputation for the rest of the non-OPEC nations. So on another evening, our bus stopped at the Saudi imitation of a strip mall, where there were a number of western fast-food places. Of course, I wanted to eat native food, but I was (as usual) overruled by the majority of my fellow soldiers. I was a bit obnoxious in my desire to be a non-conformist, but I honestly didn’t like fast food. In Saudi, women are not allowed to order for themselves. The front of the store is, by law, off limits to women, and they are required to go around to the back where there is a family eating area. None of the male soldiers would go with me, so being the (silly) modern female soldier, that I was, I marched in and up to the counter (in my abbaya with head shawl) and politely requested food off the menu. The counter boy was stunned, jaw hitting the ground, and I could hear whispered from the others behind him, as they all slowly moved forward to get a look at the crazy lady at the counter. I stood my ground, until finally one brave soul came forward and begged my forgiveness, saying that I was not allowed to be there. He kept apologizing, telling me that it was just the way it was there, and could I please go around to the back where I would be able to place an order. It was obvious, to me, that he was terrified that I would make a scene or that mayhem was about to ensue. I relented and went outside around to the back entrance, where I found a typical fast-food dining area with a few families eating like it was perfectly normal to be eating fast-food in Riyadh, S.A.
I placed my order, and gobbled my food down, as the time for leaving was close and I had used most of it up on the store-front melodrama. Nobody else was there to witness this, and I have no doubt that the young men behind the counter would remember that night just as I had.
Riyadh was such an odd place, and as much as I hated the treatment of women, I have always wanted to go back and explore the bazaars full of strange and unknown things. Needless to say, I would
take drag my husband along with me the next time, so that he could see what he was missing. He spent his time in Saudi in the desert, moving into Iraq, and ignoring Republican Guards begging to be taken prisoner.