During the Egyptian uprising, Eladl and her colleagues supported the
revolution by printing up some of their fiercest political satire, the
kind that would not have been published, and handing them out in Tahrir
Square. “I don’t think artists like myself should be members of
political parties or organizers, but we should certainly use our art to
speak out against injustice and oppression.”
Eladl’s blistering caricatures have landed her in hot water with some
of Egypt’s powerful fundamentalists. She now has the distinction of
being the first cartoonist in Egypt to face blasphemy charges. In 2012
Salafi lawyer Khaled El-Masry, Secretary General of a group called
National Center for Defense of Freedoms, filed a complaint against her
for defaming religious prophets. The cartoon he objected to shows an
Egyptian man with angel wings lecturing Adam and Eve. The man is telling
Adam and Eve that they would never have been expelled from heaven if
they had simply voted in favor of the Brotherhood’s draft constitution
in the recent Egyptian referendum. The court has not yet heard the case.
If the fundamentalists are upset about her irreverent depictions of
religious figures, one has to wonder if they have seen her searing
drawings about women’s rights—and wrongs. One cartoon against child
marriage shows a lecherous, old man with a cane peering greedily up the
skirt of a little girl holding a teddy bear.
Another has the streaming beard of a fundamentalist flowing across a woman’s mouth to silence her.
Eladli uses her art to bring attention to domestic violence, underage
marriage, sexual harassment, violence against women, and the new
phenomenon of attacks against female demonstrators. Some accuse of her
being sacrilegious, claiming that her work is too shocking. The
accusations don’t seem to phase her, and they certainly haven’t
influenced her style.
Most disturbing, yet thought-provoking, is one cartoon against female
genital mutilation, in which a man is standing on a ladder between a
woman’s legs, reaching up to cut her with a pair of scissors.
I criticize habits that I think are wrong and should be totally
reconsidered, like female circumcision, which doesn’t stem from the
Muslim religion at all. There are Muslim scholars who say female
circumcision is a crime against humanity and is not related to Islam.
Yet it is still being practiced in Egypt’s countryside and
unfortunately, in the name of religion.”
While Eladl was delighted to see Mubarak ousted, she says that in
many ways, the situation for women is worse because now those in power
use religion to dominate women. A Muslim who covers her head out of
choice, Eladl is vehemently opposed to the Muslim Brotherhood. “They
interpret religion in their own way but I don’t think it is the real way
of Islam. Since the revolution, I feel compelled to draw cartoons about
women in order to defend my own personal freedoms, which are threatened
under the rule of the Muslim Brotherhood.”
Eladl complains that the new constitution does not guarantee women’s
rights or respect the international treaties that protect women. It does
not give rights to divorced women or guarantee equal rights for women
workers. If the constitution is implemented, she fears women’s right
will be turned back.
One of her cartoons shows a professional-looking woman walking up to
the door of Parliament, only to be told by a bearded man “Sorry, this is
only for men.”
Eladl’s critique of the post-Mubarak era goes way beyond the
treatment of women. She says there has been little change in general
because the new government is similar to the old, more concerned about
holding onto power than making life better for the poor. One drawing
depicts the “new ruler” as a bull, fighting the military matador to get
onto the king’s throne.
Another shows the head of Mubarak severed from his body, but his suit plastered with the faces of many more Mubaraks.
Eladl is also disappointed in U.S. policy. Like millions in the Arab
world, she had high hopes when Obama was first elected. “We were so
hopeful when Obama came to Cairo with his beautiful speech, but then we
saw that he continued to support repressive regimes, including here in
Egypt, and that his words were hollow.” That’s why she drew a cartoon of
Obama surrounded by a huge empty speech bubble. Another sketch shows
Qaddhafi’s army shooting at civilians, while a big arm of America
reaches out to grab a giant barrel of oil. The caption says: “America
lends a hand to Libyan revolutionaries.“ “I see the hypocrisy of U.S.
policy, intervening in places like Iraq and Libya that have a lot of
oil, but not in the case of Syria,” says Eladl.
If Eladl is worried about the blasphemy case and the enemies she is
making with her scornful brushstrokes, she doesn’t show it. “The
extremists don’t scare me,” she insists. “Whatever they do, I will
continue to use my skills to poke fun at them. They must understand that
we Egyptians have changed with the revolution, and we will not go
backwards.”
One of the women who spoke at the Women’s Assembly
during the World Social Forum in Tunisia was not a political activist,
but a cartoonist. Dooa Eladl is 34-year-old Egyptian woman who calls
herself a Muslim anarchist. Her work appears in the prominent newspaper
She has become one of Egypt’s best-known political cartoonists, in a
field completely dominated by men. (One of her humorous drawings is a
portrait of herself marching to work, her hair tied to the mustaches of
four of her male colleagues.)
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