Jad Amine Zeitouni on Refinement of the Humanist-Feminist Discourse
Author(s): Scott Douglas Jacobsen
Publication (Outlet/Website): The Good Men Project
Publication Date (yyyy/mm/dd): 2024/09/09
Jad Amine Zeitouni is a dynamic political figure and advocate, currently serving as a political advisor for equal chances, economy, employment, LEZ, and energy under the cabinet of Minister Elke Van den Brandt in Brussels. A candidate for the Brussels Parliament, ranked sixth on the list for Groen, he brings extensive experience in public service and advocacy, particularly in areas of diversity, inclusion, and youth rights. His work spans organizing workshops on diversity and identity, moderating debates on critical societal issues, and consulting on diversity and inclusion strategies, continuously influencing and shaping policies that promote social justice and equality in Belgium.
Scott Douglas Jacobsen: After all this discussion, you might hear a counterpoint: “You live in a developed society that largely respects human rights. There is much equality, high quality of life, high employment, high education levels, good food, and beautiful Belgian architecture. So, why bother being a humanist in Belgium? Why do you even need that? Why be so open about it?”
Jad Amine Zeitouni: We can be proud of our many achievements in Belgium for humanism. The progress has been broad and significant. I could talk for hours about what we have accomplished—maybe “achieved” is a more accurate term—but we are not there yet. One of my biggest frustrations, perhaps influenced by my broader perspective as someone with Lebanese and Moroccan roots in Belgium, is the misconception that the Western world has somehow achieved everything. There is this notion that we have reached the pinnacle of human evolution, are hyper-civilized, and that the rest of the world needs to catch up. This mindset is essentially colonialism 2.0.
While we have achieved a lot, we are still working on it. There is much more to be done, and we can learn much from other parts of the world. Our humanist values are not fully realized in all aspects of life, nor are they stable. Even the progress we have made is incredibly fragile. More recent times than any other period in the last few decades have shown how precarious our achievements are. People are starting to—I am not sure what the correct term is—almost walk away from humanist values, even though they were so hard-won and beneficial for everyone.
I was recently talking with a friend about this, and we discussed incels and the broader concept. In one sentence, it is an unfortunate societal consequence. “Involuntary celibates,” which initially, about 15-20 years ago, started as a niche group of young men frustrated by their inability to find a partner—specifically a female partner—who vented all their frustration at society and blamed women as the culprits. This led to creepy behaviour like men giving each other tips on how to manipulate women into having sex with them because they believed society had doomed them otherwise. It is a bizarre and horrible way of thinking.
One of the recent developments adding to this is the rise of “trad wives.” Trad wives, or traditional wives, glorify women finding comfort and fulfillment in conventional roles, like caring for the household. This idea resonates with people in the same way that many extreme-right and conservative ideologies do—because it simplifies life. In a modern, complex society, people face many obstacles, and our capitalist systems are not always great at being inclusive or addressing mental well-being. If you live in poverty, there are countless societal problems to contend with.
The concept of the traditional wife suggests to young women that life was simpler and better before: cook, take care of the kids, bake brownies, dress pretty and cute—that is an excellent life. Honestly, it sounds appealing, especially when you are overworked. It sounds like a dream. However, of course, it is an oversimplified version of reality. What happens when you do not want that anymore? What happens if you are completely dependent on your partner? What happens if you wake up feeling sad? What happens if you do not want to have sex with your husband? Who is bringing in the money? It is a scary reality to revert to that.
This is a long example to show how we are going backwards. Here are some examples of things we still need to achieve. We have made progress, but many areas, especially those influenced by religion, still need change. Suppose you consider how we mourn or celebrate certain events. In that case, religious people today probably have a slightly better quality of life than non-religious people, which is absurd.
All societies still need to give up their old structures fully. For example, mental well-being is a significant issue today—not because it was not before, but because we are more aware of it now. However, part of the reason we are more aware of it is that the problems might be bigger. In the past, in Christian societies, you had priests who fulfilled a certainpsychological support role. In the traditional sense, you also had partners with whom the woman would stay at home. She might be considered an unpaid psychologist, to be honest. So, we had many structures that provided psychological support.
I am not saying we should go back to that—that was horrible for many other reasons—but we are struggling to replace those structures. Society is not yet humanist-proof. It does not fully function for people who choose not to be religious or who focus on humanity, whether they are religious themselves or not. So, there is a gap when you move away from those traditional social structures. It is solvable, so we advocate for change but have not solved it yet.
Is that an answer? I’m trying not to go too deep or too far. I could talk for days about this.
Jacobsen: What message would you have for younger men, considering the temptations, both emotional and psychological, of an ideology of resentment found in incel communities? Or an ideology of retribution, where society is generally targeted but with a particular focus on women? What would your message be to them?
Zeitouni: I could probably write a book for them—which is not bad. It could be fun. Maybe something like Dear Incels: Memoirs of Male Failures or something like that. It is not easy because there are so many messages to convey. However, if I had to choose one, it would probably be this: It is normal to struggle with many things in society because society is not perfect. Society requires change because everyone has the right to feel good and develop their potential. However, do not blame your fellow humans simply because you want to have sex with them.
Jacobsen: This connects to another pushback you might get from a different branch of philosophy and social activism. You have a deep history in thought and activism, and I have seen this—the term “male feminist,” which, on the surface, is a neutral descriptor but is often used as an epithet. What if people come to you, online or in person, and accuse you of being a “male feminist”? They might suggest that people should be suspicious of you because, as a man, you cannot be a “real” feminist. You will hear critiques from the center, the right, and the left, where these terms are thrown around derogatorily.
Zeitouni: Is your question about how I handle this critique, especially when directed at male feminists? Or is it about how to respond to these kinds of social critiques?
Jacobsen: Yes, it is about how to respond to the social critique where people use “male feminist” as an epithet, not as a descriptor.
Zeitouni: This critique usually comes from two sides. For me, it is a justified suspicion—perhaps critique is too strong a word—but a certain suspicion that should exist. This suspicion comes from within the feminist community itself. Any feminist, regardless of gender or gender identity, should be cautious when a man says he is a feminist. It is logical. Just like I would be initially suspicious if a white person approached me and said they are anti-racist because so much of our lives are shaped by oppressive structures.
As a man, I benefit from the low bar set for men at almost every turn. I can put in minimal effort and receive five times more attention. It was a difficult but important decision to take my male feminism seriously, to stop doing interviews, and to stop taking up too much space. Now, I only do it occasionally when the context is appropriate because I recognize that I could say the same things as a qualified female feminist—still, on a different platform. I, as a man, would get the stage simply because of my gender, which turns me from an ally into more of an adversary, taking away the little space there is for feminism.
People have limited attention spans, focus, and time. So, if I am taking up all the space, then I am not being an ally. And then many men claim to be feminists but then expect sex from their partners as a reward. They harm and hurt women around them, gaslight them, and behave badly toward women, but then turn around and say, “Look, I am a feminist,” because they are nice to their female colleagues or sisters. However, that is not being a feminist.
Being a feminist means dismantling all structures of gender-based violence, misogyny, and sexism. That requires effort, thought, and self-reflection. It probably also means losing male friends. I used to have a lot of male friends, but as I grew in my feminism and started addressing problematic behaviour, not all of them were open to it, and I lost male friends. That is the price you pay if you want to be a male feminist. It would be best if you were consistent. You cannot be part of the oppressor group, which men statistically are, and be inconsistent in your efforts to be an ally.
If I say I am a queer ally, I can’t go and make homophobic jokes afterward—that would be hypocritical. So, in that way, if the critique comes from feminists, I understand where it’s coming from. I never take it personally. It’s good to have that feedback. If the person is open to it, I will calmly try to explain why I call myself a male feminist, where it comes from, and how much work I’ve put into it. These aren’t empty words; I’m not waving a flag because it’s trendy. If the person still isn’t convinced, that’s fine. It’s okay.
It’s like if a white person were to be anti-racist and do everything they possibly could but then encounter someone who believes every white person is inherently racist. There are arguments for that line of thinking, and it becomes a question of definition—what is racism? Is it structural? Is it more about active behaviour? But that’s fine. You don’t need to be defensive. If you’re truly an ally, you shouldn’t be overly sensitive. It’s fine. I don’t mind if someone says, “Shamila, blah blah.”
Sometimes, the critique comes from feminists who haven’t fully thought it through and use it to make a fool out of you. That’s fine, too. But I do think it’s important that we, as men, invest even more in feminism. The reason is simple. I always say in my feminist discussions: if I could snap my fingers and turn every woman into a perfect feminist—intersectional, academically developed, inclusive, both intellectually and practically—would that solve the issues of gender-based violence, sexual violence, rape, or partner abuse? No. I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t make much of a difference.
This means that the problem we need to solve isn’t just about helping the group that’s being oppressed. While this is counterintuitive, I believe the only way we’re going to solve gender-based violence sustainably is by also emancipating men and turning them into feminists. The problem undoubtedly stems from men, and by maintaining sexist structures, we end up hurting ourselves, too.
Women, though certainly not the only group victimized by violence, are still the primary targets. To give you some context, in Belgium, the biggest victims of physical violence are men—over 80% of them, even accounting for a margin of error and the possibility that some men or women may not report incidents. The numbers are clear: men make up at least 80% of the victims of physical violence. The largest group responsible for committing physical violence is also men, accounting for over 90%.
So, while men are the biggest contributors to physical violence, they primarily hurt other men before they hurt women. If you look at suicide rates—though the term “self-killing” is becoming more common in Dutch—the largest group affected is also men, both in most countries and globally. When it comes to sexual violence, the biggest culprits are men, even with a margin of error for underreporting. And the largest group of victims, by far, is women. This shows that men are both the perpetrators and victims of their violent tendencies, with women being much more significant victims of this violence, as they become the targets of our misogyny and sexism.
The idea that sex only harms women is outdated and absurd. This is why it’s important to have male feminists—not just for women, but for men, children, and non-binary people as well. We need to address the issues with men. That’s a bit of a long answer.
Jacobsen: What about the distinction you touched on several times, at least indirectly, between having a title and doing the work? Some people might help a female colleague advance in her career as an act of equality or work to pass legislation for gender-equal pay at the federal level or their university. But that’s different from simply taking on the title of “feminist,” “human rights defender,” or “egalitarian” without actually doing any of those things.
It can be tricky to identify these differences because, in many Western societies, terms like “egalitarian” and “human rights defender” have positive connotations. We only sometimes take the time to look beyond the positive associations of those words to see if the person’s actions correspond with the title they’ve adopted. What are your recommendations for ensuring we critically reflect on whether someone’s claim to be egalitarian matches their deeds?
Zeitouni: If people are egalitarian and do good work, they won’t have such mishaps. Sometimes, we normalize the idea that people make mistakes too much. Of course, people make mistakes. But if a person is drunk and starts harassing women, then that person hasn’t done the necessary introspective work.
You mentioned examples of clear feminist work, like fighting for equal pay. That’s straightforward. But on a personal level, if I treat people around me respectfully, don’t bother women, and am considerate and understanding of the additional struggles that women face, does that make me a feminist? Not quite.
There’s a third dimension: the internal world inside your head. It’s the mental work required to learn to think differently. If, as a heterosexual man, you sexualize every female friend and think, “Oh my god, how much I would love to have sex with her.” You keep doing that without stopping yourself or trying to desexualize people who don’t want to be sexualized by you. You haven’t done the necessary work. Even if you behave correctly on the outside, at some point, in a moment of weakness, you’re going to act inappropriately. That won’t be a mistake—it will be the consequence of years of not addressing your thoughts and dismantling the structures of sexism in your mind.
That’s why feminism, anti-racism, and similar sociological movements must be careful not to turn into elite academic exercises. They require mental work, but it doesn’t have to be academic. You don’t need to have the right terminology or write lengthy essays about it, but you do have to think. Only by putting in the mental work and changing the way you think can you truly be allowed to call yourself a feminist. Because to be a feminist, you need to think like one.
As a straight man, I will naturally sexualize my partner, the person with whom I’m sexually involved. But I consciously refrain from doing that with my female friends because it’s clear. There’s no interest in that, and it doesn’t come naturally. Growing up as a teenager in a society that constantly tells you that women are sexual beings, that you should want to have sex, and that your masculinity is defined by how much sex you have with women, it takes real effort to change that mindset.
I’m using this as a concrete example, but many others exist. Part of my work before I could call myself a feminist was learning not to see all women as inherently sexual objects. Women are fellow humans who are allowed to have a sexual life and identity, but that only comes into play in certain circumstances. I’m not going to sexualize my colleague. I’m not going to sexualize a random woman at the pool who happens to fit my preferences. It takes effort to change your thinking in this way.
So, returning to your original question, deeds alone are not enough. Actions alone are not enough. It would help if you judge people based on the consequences of their internal thinking work. How do you see the results of that work? Engaging with them and asking tough questions are fine and should always be considered good.
If you tell me you’re anti-racist, I’ll look at what you’ve been doing. Have you been protesting? That’s a good first step. Do you have people of colour in your surroundings? Are you aware of the structures of oppression and racism? Okay, that’s another that’s another check. However, the third step is more complex to assess. I will be more critical since you fit the group’s oppressive profile. Have you been actively challenging your thoughts? Have you been breaking free from Western colonial mindsets?
For example, do you see African countries as third-rate, underdeveloped, lacking culture, and needing to catch up to the “civilized” world? If you think that way, then yes, you’re still racist. I could explain in detail why that is, but it’s clear that’s how I would judge whether or not someone is racist.
So, if someone asks me how we can tell if a man is truly a feminist, the first two levels are easy to check. If he doesn’t meet those, then he’s not. The third level, however, is where the real work shows. That’s where you see the difference between someone who claims to be a feminist and someone who’s putting in the effort.
Let me give you a final concrete example. Have you heard of the concept of intersectional feminism? Kimberlé Crenshaw, an American professor, originally coined the term. However, she didn’t invent the idea—she put a name to it. In brief, her research, if I’m not mistaken, focused on a legal context where businesses in the U.S. were beginning to diversify. They realized that society was changing—women and people of colour, particularly Black people, had their own money to spend. So, for economic reasons, they decided to diversify.
What did they do? They identified two groups: women and Black people. But the problem was that these companies, run mainly by white men, naturally had more white women and Black men in their circles. So, they hired white women from their surroundings—daughters, partners, cousins—and Black men they knew, like college buddies or members of the same clubs. The result was that these companies had white women, Black men, and white men, but Black women were left out.
You can see which group was structurally absent—Black women. But if you were to walk into those companies and ask, “Hey, you’re racist because you don’t have Black women,” they might respond, “We’re not racist. We have Black men.” And if you called them sexist, they’d say, “No, we’re not sexist. We have white women.” This is the essence of intersectional thinking. Black women, in this case, become victims of the specific intersection between being Black and being female. These two identities combined create a new form of oppression because they can no longer say the company is racist or sexist, yet they remain as excluded as before.
So, while white women were empowered and Black men were empowered, Black women ended up worse off than before. Why am I using this as an example? Intersectional thinking, which involves reflecting on how different forms of oppression interact, is crucial for any feminist. Feminism addresses the struggles of all women who are victims of various forms of oppression.
So, if a man says, “I am a feminist,” but doesn’t understand why and how a woman with a disability, a woman of colour, a woman in an economically disadvantaged situation, or a woman in poverty faces much greater challenges. He’s probably not a good feminist—and therefore not a feminist at all. I will stop here because I could talk for another hour about this, but that wouldn’t be useful.
Jacobsen: Would you apply this to the traditional identity domains of sex, gender, race, ethnicity, education, and class in the sense of distinguishing between words and actions?
Zeitouni: It’s a bit different because feminism, humanism, and anti-racism are not things you’re born into. These are ideologies you think about, reflect on, grow into, learn, and listen to before becoming one. It’s something you actively become, not something you happen to be. Your example relates to aspects of identity, such as poverty, which is part of your identity.
But the distinction I made wasn’t just between deeds and thoughts; there’s a third dimension—the internal thought process. However, to build on your question, if someone says they’re doing something for people in poverty, it’s indeed the same principle. That’s one of the examples.
For instance, a person might create a law that provides free food at school, benefiting impoverished people. They might also talk passionately about how poor people have rights, which is presupposed that they end up stigmatizing people in poverty by reminding them that they have fewer rights because they’re poor. In that case, the toy needs to understand the complexities of poverty truly. The risk is that they’re still stigmatizing or reducing people in poverty.
Let me give you an example from Brussels. In the past, some well-meaning socialists—considered progressive—wanted to protect poor people from bankruptcies. So, they introduced a law stating that only those with a higher degree, like a master’s or a degree in business management, could start their own companies. The idea was to prevent poor people who were already struggling from incurring more debt by mismanaging their businesses.
But that wasn’t something other than based on facts. The bankruptcy rates for people with or without degrees were the same. I can show you the numbers because I pushed through research on this topic. They could have been more scientific.
What they did harm the economy because they didn’t understand poverty. They thought they were solving a problem, but instead, they created an extra layer of bureaucracy and made it harder for poor people. Some people, especially those from disadvantaged backgrounds, must be better suited to a traditional 9-to-5 job but might excel at entrepreneurship. However, these policies took away opportunities from them. Poor people, in particular, are less likely to study due to various factors, from mental well-being issues to the consequences of poverty and perhaps a lack of structure and discipline in their upbringing. So, when you’re in poverty, it’s more likely that entrepreneurship, rather than traditional employment, might be your path out.
Zeitouni: There’s a lower chance for someone who’s grown up in poverty to excel in school. If that person is meant to be an entrepreneur, they should be encouraged to pursue their path. Why would you stop them, especially if there’s no scientific basis?
I tackled this issue when I joined the government about two and a half years ago. I initiated research and asked the administration to look at the numbers. It turned out that my suspicions were correct. The only difference between me and the people who made that law 15 or 20 years ago is that I understand poverty better—I’ve lived through it, so I know this approach was flawed.
I asked the administration to verify the data, and they confirmed that the law was indeed misguided. By cancelling that law, we anticipate an increase of 2,000 to 3,000 more companies yearly. These companies will likely have the same bankruptcy rate—about 8%—but that means 80 to 90% of those businesses will be run by self-employed individuals. That’s 2,000 to 3,000 people a year who are now paying taxes, working, and doing their own thing.
Moreover, about 3% of these new companies will create jobs. If you take 3% of 2,000 companies, that’s roughly 60 companies. Even if my quick math was off, dozens of companies will hire 5 to 10 or more people each year. We’re creating hundreds of additional jobs every year simply by removing a misguided law that was originally intended to help people in poverty.
This example shows how failing to de-stigmatize your thinking, not basing your decisions on evidence and science, and not doing the necessary intellectual work can lead to empty rhetoric and even counterproductive or harmful actions. You think you’re helping, but you’re not. You might think you’re making society easier but are making things worse.
Consider the stereotype of a white person going to a poor country and taking pictures surrounded by little Black kids. The intentions may seem noble—they want to help the poor kids—but the reality is far from it. The problem lies in the thinking behind those actions. By doing this, you create an image of poor kids needing a white saviour. For a brief moment, you may make them feel that white people are superior. You give them affection, then abandon them and return to your comfortable life in the Western world. Ultimately, you’ve done nothing meaningful for them; you’ve made things worse by playing the saviour for your ego. So, once again, the words and deeds are not enough.
On a political level, I can give you countless examples of this same issue. But where do you think feminist activism in Belgium has made mistakes? It’s awkward for a man to point out what a predominantly female group has done wrong, but it’s important to discuss it.
One significant mistake, and this might be a global issue, especially from the first wave of feminism onward, is how the smart, capable feminists—who made great strides in many areas—completely left behind non-white women. This exclusion makes the problem even more troubling, considering the intelligence and capability of those feminists who should have known better.
They stopped caring. Even now, some white women don’t understand how feminists can be against migrants, to be honest. As I said, two completely different issues exist: who can come to the continent and the people already here. Migrant women who are already here without papers are in such a terrible, horrible situation. They are probably among the most oppressed women in the world. These are women without legal documentation.
All the problematic structures that harm white women are magnified six thousand times for them—they face more violence and more oppression, and they are even more powerless because they lack the legal paperwork. So, any feminist who is against regularizing and giving papers to women who are already physically here is not practicing true feminism. That’s white. That’s cis-ism, and to be blunt, it’s embarrassing. It’s embarrassing for our feminist history and for the feminist generations that will come after us.
It’s such an absurd mistake. I’ve wondered why it’s such a mistake for a while, but I’ll stop. I’ll get locked into a two-hour rant. I should write something about it one day.
Jacobsen: What is the healthy way to be an “ally” and use the terminology from some strands of feminism? What is the right way to bring an ally into the community? Can we look at it from a two-directional perspective?
Zeitouni: My advice would be to start with education. Everyone has different capacities or, let’s say, intellectual interests, so try to read as much as you can from the group you want to connect with. If I were bringing another man into feminism, I’d encourage him to read and listen as much as possible. And then ensure there are timetables to reflect. This is a skill we’ve gained, especially in modern times where we constantly seek entertainment.
Taking time to think things through, doing thought experiments where you read about an experience and then try to visualize and understand how it works, is essential. Understanding the oppression a group faces is a crucial first step. You won’t understand everything, but trying to understand before acting is always important.
Of course, it’s important to act, but don’t be afraid of making mistakes. More importantly, it would be best if you were terrified of not correcting yourself when given feedback.
If I enter feminist thinking, I can emancipate men. I started doing many interviews and talking on radio shows, taking up much space. Then someone tells me, “Jad, you are taking space that should be for women, and you’re making your feminism about men. Some women have been in feminism for decades who are way ahead of you, and they don’t get what you’re talking about.” I can either get defensive and say, “How dare you?” I did only good things, and nobody else should tell me otherwise,” or I can be open-minded.
I need to be open to critique, evaluate if it’s valid, and not take it personally. Suppose I realize I’ve messed up and taking too much space. In that case, the most important thing is to adapt my behaviour, correct myself, grow, and stop doing that. I shouldn’t self-pity or be overly dramatic. Sometimes, especially today, we tend to victimize ourselves when we’re culprits. No, you messed up. It is what it is—move on. But, more importantly, stop messing up.
The only way to stop messing up is to invest in relationships so that people trust you and want to help you. Ultimately, it’s a favour when someone tries to correct you or give you feedback. You can’t take it without giving it back. You can’t expect to talk about feminism and assume all the women there will waste their time telling you, “Jad, this is good, this is bad.” They’re not teachers. But if Jad is genuinely doing his best, helping out, proofreading feminist pieces, assisting feminist writers with their work—because he’s good at testing and such—then he’s contributing. He’s giving He’she cause. And in return, the feminists will help him grow. That’s an exThat’s, and it’s healthy, good.
YIt’shouldn’t shouldn’t just take knowledge and turn it into your superhero story. It would be best if you approached it with the idea that you’ll help your grow and give to the cause so that you can get something back from it. As you learn and grow, you can take up more. Sorry, I’m seeing many things here getting more passionate than I thought. But does that make sense? Do you understand what I’m saying?
Jacobsen: Yes, I understand. What else should we discuss regarding Belgian humanism? What do I need here? This is an all-in-one, wide-ranging interview. We’re covering everything. BelgWe’reasBelgium has a diverse population. How does that factor in?
Zeitouni: Does the diversity of Belgian society make feminist activism or humanist political work more complicated, or does it paradoxically simplify things?
Jacobsen: Yes, exactly. Given the diversity of Belgium, does that make feminist activism and humanist political work easier or harder?
Zeitouni: Diversity in society is always good in the long term. It brings better, more inclusive perspectives and diversifies the talents you have. But it does require investments. It doesn’t make things worse; the benefits are hidden behind the effort you must put in. There’s a bit more that you have. There’ sy upfront. The risk of not investing in diversity is much bigger. That’s one of the problems in BThat’s right now. The people involved in organized humanism and feminism are often highly educated, and those people typically come from privileged backgrounds where their parents were also highly educated or at least more comfortable. These people are predominantly white, middle class, or above.
However, these people need to understand the realities faced by Belgium’s more diverse sides. Thus, you end up with a socio-cultural gap. On the one hand, you have well-meaning intellectuals involved in feminism and humanism. Still, they often make mistakes and alienate the diverse groups within Belgium. Instead of gaining access to feminism and humanism, which would benefit everyone, these groups retreat to their identity, falling back on conservative, traditional views because they feel more comfortable.
Suppose someone comes to talk to you about humanism, and you get the feeling that they low-key think your people are a bunch of barbarians. In that case, you’re likely to retreat to whayou’res like your safe identity, your community. You end up creating an isolated identity because the humanists seem like the enemy—a bunch of snobs who don’t value or respect your couldn’t, your people, your family, or your loved ones.
I still remember my mom is a Muslim woman, and when I was younger, one of the biggest pushbacks I faced was related to this. I’ve never been particularly reI’veous; I’ve always been a big reader, and I got into humanism easily. But one of the first conversations I had with a humanist counsellor—someone who worked for a humanist organization in Belgium—was incredibly Islamophobic. They were harbouring a lot of hateful ideas. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m criticadon’tall religions equally, but there’s a difference between father’s idea of people being oppressed by religion and harbouring blind, irrational hatred based on bigotry toward a specific group of people who happen to follow that religion. It was the latter in this case.
Zeitouni: My first thought was, “Okay, so humanists are just a “bunch of Islamophobic pieces of shit.” I didn’t want to hate Muslims. “I wasn’t Muslim, my family is Muslim, and they’re good people. So, in a way, I had to choose between being a humanist and hating my family or standing by my family. The choice was easy. I chose my family, then my love. What the hell?
It’s the same with feminism. It’s Muslim women, for example, want to wear what they choose, and whatever women wantto wear is none of our business—that’s my stance. But when they enter the feminist world, they’re told that they are religious. And maybe that’s true, intellectually. I agree. But is it more or less oppressive than any other Abrahamic religion? No. Yet, a Christian woman can come into the feminist world without being judged, while a Muslim woman faces a different reception—it suddenly becomes a big problem.
So, diversity does bring different forms of oppression into focus. It’s much easier to judge someone’s issues, like the traditional values of Muslim men. But where’s the judgment for the white man who says, “Oh, yes, I’m a feminist,” and “hen goes I I’mthe locker r” om and has even worse ideas about women than the average Muslim or Christian man? We often forget how creepy Christianity can be at its core—at least, according to me.
Belgium’s diversity sometimes highlights the problems within humanism and feminism. But it doesn’t make things harder; it raises the bar well. It means that feminism and humanism in Belgium are slowly but steadily adapting and becoming more inclusive, less colonial, and less exclusionary. And that’s a necessary evolution for the movements.
However, this will benefit the whole world in the long term. Whether it’s humanism or feminism, if its ideas are to spread globally, they need to evolve beyond a framework developed by Western white thinkers who only know the Western world. Otherwise, these movements will remain confined to the West. While it’s true that many humanist antifeminist ideas were developed outside the Western world, the balance of the movement will be better if different perspectives are included. Feminism and humanism can only truly connect globally if there are bridges between humanism and feminism developed in diverse countries.
Jacobsen: I recently interviewed the president of the National Committee for United Nations Women in Japan. We talked about how Japan, despite being a highly technological, wealthy, and educated society, is still highly gender-unequal. What do you think is the core factor for creating a more egalitarian society, especially when money and technology aren’t the main factors, even if they help? Japan is a good case study in this regard.
Jacobsen: Japan is a fascinating case study in many ways. While I’m not Japanese and only share my analysis with some caution, I have read quite a bit about the situation in Japan because it’s interesting. I’m also into its culture. I’ve come across various testimonies. One of Japan’s biggest mistakes was focusing on scientific and economic development while neglecting social progress. We shouldn’t fall into the capitalist thinking that economic growth is the only indicator of societal progress. That’s why we have social sciences. Those are legitimate disciplines. We need thinkers not just to stabilize economic growth but to develop our health sciences, our engineering sciences, and, crucially, our societies as a whole.
These thinkers need space to dismantle oppressive structures. We won’t tackle racism through more scientific progress alone—that won’t change racism. We could have advanced technology like Gundam robots, and people would still be racist. We’ll tackle racism by developing intellectual frameworks to dismantle racist structures and create societal space to implement those changes. It’s a long-term process.
We need to teach boys that girls aren’t just tiny objects. We must teach girls they can be what they want, scientists if they prefer, or both—it doesn’t matter. It’s about providing freedom and space for every one white without the constraints of outdated societal norms.
They can be whatever they want to be. We need to teach boys that they can be dads, caregivers, or anything else, just like we should teach girls. We must invest in education to convey these values and talk to teenagers about this. Teaching young men that having feelings doesn’t mean you have to act on them is crucial. Just because you’re lonely doesn’t mean you need to hate women or blame them for your problems. It doesn’t address these issues, but that has yet happened in Japan.
You won’t find any proper educational program for the Japanese gender. If you don’t invest in gender equality and take action, it won’t immediately appear. What also went wrong in Japan was that there was an emancipation movement for women. Still, it benefited a specific group—higher-educated, wealthier Japanese women. This didn’t extend to the rest, and that’s a problem. There’s inequality, a classist element. But there’s also a deeper, long-term problem: the women who didn’t benefit from emancipation continue to raise boys and girls who aren’t going to be emancipated either.
The non-emancipated women aren’t in traditional, conservative gender roles, which means they play a significant part in raising the next generation without passing on the benefits of emancipation because they never experienced it themselves. Feminism and gender equality aren’t things you achieve in five years; they’re long-term investments. There is gender equality in Belgium, thanks to the feminists of the 1970s. Whatever I’m doing today, at best, you’ll see the impact on gender equality in the years to come. Sadly, Japan will lose that long-term investment. That’s my analysis, though I could be wrong. Again, I’m not Japanese; that knowledge is limited to what I’ve studied during a few evenings of interest.
I’ve done some research on gender-based violence in Japan. The natives there aren’t good—partner violence and other related issues are significant aren’t so I helped a friend write a piece about manga culture and how it sometimes parallels incel culture, but that’s a topic for another discussion because it could take hours.
Jacobsen: Why did it take Belgium so long to grant women the right to vote? It wasn’t until 1948.
Zeitouni: That’s easy—religion. Belgium has historically been a Catholic country. That’s why the right to vote in Belgium came quite late, even for men. Ironically, when women finally got the right to vote, it wasn’t the liberals or progressives who pushed it through; it was the political parties. It happened because the church wanted women to vote, assuming—correctly—that women would support Christian parties.
During World War II, women were at home while men were out fighting, often more closely connected to the church. They also had to fill jobs that men left behind, which led to a certain level of emancipation. The church saw an opportunity and supported women’s suffrage, believing it would benefit their political agenda. Women understood that the primary reason for the delay in women’s suffrage was the Catholic influence, where traditional Christwomen held that men were the wise decision-makers and women were not to be trusted with such responsibilities.
Jacobsen: How many female prime ministers has Belgium had?
Zeitouni: None, if I’m not mistaken, which is pretty telling.
Jacobsen: What about members of parliament?
Zeitouni: It’s not perfectly balanced—not 50/50—but it has improved significantly. About 15 years ago, a big victory for the feminist movement was implementing rules that required political party lists to alternate between men and women. You could no longer have a list of all men with a few women at the end. The rules mandated that party lists must be 50% men and 50% women.
However, the real change came with the rotation rule. You can’t have six men in a row anymore, and because of this, representation cannot be improved. Still, suppose a political party wins three seats in parliament. In that case, two men and one woman are often elected, following the alternating pattern.
So, in the end, you still have structures where men hold more power in politics, though this is only the case in some political parties. With the Greens, you could argue the opposite. We had three female presidents and three female ministers in the last legislation—no male ministers. In parliament, the gender split is like 55% men, 45% women, maybe 52% and 48%, but there are slightly more men than women, if I’m not mistaken.
The reasons for this are rooted in Belgium’s struggle. We have a strong feminist movement, but outside Belgium, you can still feel the influence of traditional ideas, like the myth of the wise old white man who knows best. This mindset is still strong in parts of Belgium.
Jacobsen: How is gender equality in post-secondary education?
Zeitouni: There’s been some progress. We have more female teachers; they have academically outperformed men over the last decade. There are many reasons for this and many analyses. Things are improving, but you can still move toward real change. Sexual education, for doesn’t, is an area where Belgium, despite doing well on a global scale, is not excelling.
I give workshops in secondary schools about menstruation stigmas. Often, these sessions turn into impromptu sex education classes because the average 16- or 17-year-old, who might already be sexually active, has no idea how her body works. In biology, they learn in detail how the male body works, but the female body is often glossed over. In theory, the information is supposed to be equal, but it’s not there in practice.
This gap doesn’t affect academic performance, as women still need to work academically. But when you take an intersectional approach, you see that women from migrant backgrounds or in poverty are significantly underrepresented in higher education, particularly in the sciences. These groups still need to perform better and pursue higher education less. So, while women could do better numbers-wise, significant structural problems still need to be solved.
Jacobsen: What aspect of feminism or humanism in Belgium isn’t discussed?
Zeitouni: There are a few. One issue is the need to focus on the emancipation of men and address the issues facing men. Menstruation stigmas are also still a big problem. It’s absurd that there’s still a taboo around menstruation, and it has positive consequences on the humanism side; probably the biggest issue is the fine but important line between empowering people to have freedom of religion—or freedom from religion—and avoiding hatred, bigotry, or Islamophobia. It’s a thin line, but it’s crucial to maintain. Sometimes, we’re too aIt’sd to talk about that, which isn’t good because it means those who lack understanding are often not hateful. This is due to a lack of understanding of how different parts of the world work. You can’t approach Islam the same way you approach Christianity—they are differentreligions with different cultures.
The humanist movement can be afraid of being seen as biased or arrogant in some respects. We have to address our wearable bigotry, stigmas, and prejudices.
Jacobsen: Last question. If you could invent a term for combining your feminism and humanism, what would you call it?
Zeitouni: That’s a specific question. I’d probably go with something like “intersectional humanism.” If I had to describe myself, I’d use many words: an ecological take on intersectional humanist and feminist ideology in as inclusive a manner as possible. That’s what I’d call it.
Jacobsen: Let’s call it a day, then.
Zeitouni: Sure thing.
License & Copyright
In-Sight Publishing by Scott Douglas Jacobsen is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. ©Scott Douglas Jacobsen and In-Sight Publishing 2012-Present. Unauthorized use or duplication of material without express permission from Scott Douglas Jacobsen strictly prohibited, excerpts and links must use full credit to Scott Douglas Jacobsen and In-Sight Publishing with direction to the original content.
