“Forbidden Love” by Norma Khouri (Bantam Books, London. 2004) is about the love between a Muslim woman and a Catholic man that is doomed to fail. It is also about a practice common in Jordan that may seem shocking to outsiders and to those who ardently believe in human rights and in the emancipation of women : honour killing.

The book provides an invaluable insight into the Jordanian lifestyle and the codes that govern the society: “Until we were safely married and under the thumb of our husbands, we’d be watched everyday, every hour by our fathers and brothers.” Men are considered superior to women and no argument with men is permitted, for “even if we were right, the simple fact that we were females made us wrong in the eyes of society.”

In Jordanian society, “all Arab men are taught that it is their responsibility to discipline the women in their lives, and that the best way to do so is through corporal punishment.” Norma Khouri points out that both sexes are bound by rules but if men break any of them, they are forgiven but if women do the same, they are not. The reputation of an entire family “is tied to the reputation of the female members.” Women are not independent given that brothers and fathers are “like Sun Kings, they expect our lives and desires to revolve around them, their needs and schedules.”

Even though female infanticide and female circumcision are rare in Jordan’s cities, it is not unheard of among desert dwellers. This way of life is so idealised that they “will not hesitate to sacrifice women in an attempt to preserve it.”

A woman is not allowed to leave her house unless she is accompanied by a man in the family. And we learn that “women had died or been sent to prison for life because their families suspected them of having a secret romantic relationship while they were single, let alone a relationship with someone of a different religion.”

<B>Threat hanging over them</B>

It is against such a social and cultural backdrop that Dalia, a Muslim, falls in love with Michael, a Catholic. A thread of fear runs through the book – fear that the lovers will be discovered and punished, fear that they may not succeed, fear that Norma, the Catholic friend who is helping them in their secret meetings and hoping for their well-being, will be punished as well. There’s fear that Jehan, Michael’s sister, who acts as a go-between, will also have to pay a heavy price, that Michael will be brutalised, that the families of Dalia and Norma, hitherto on excellent terms, will grow apart and even start quarrelling.

The characters involved in the love-affair have a real threat hanging over their heads. It is this threat that keeps the reader on tenterhooks. As Dalia is accompanied to her workplace by her brother everyday, Dalia and Norma are compelled to imagine “covert operations” and schemes to outwit him in order to meet Michael. Norma and Dalia believe in their dreams, in a different life and in love. All this endears them to the reader.Twelve strokes of a knife in the chest will finish Dalia for daring to defy the norms. Ironically the father will be a hero because of the honour killing. Following your heart is a dangerous thing in Jordan.

Norma herself will be under the threat of death but with the help of Michael, she will escape to Greece, not out of cowardice or fear but to keep intact the memory of her dear friend, her “soul sister”. How can her best friend be so mercilessly killed for loving when love is not a sin in itself? This question torments her. She is aggrieved that Dalia is buried without a coffin, without flowers, and without the presence of family members.

<B>Male domination</B>

In the “Farewell” part of the book, Norma Khouri details a number of honour killings in Jordan to expose the gravity of the situation. For example, in June 1996, a man found his 25-year-old sister with two female friends in a restaurant. He shot her seven times. In February 2000, a girl aged 14 was talking on the phone when her younger brother choked her with the phone cord. In March 1997, a 15 year-old girl had her head crushed with a stone for having had relations with a neighbour. Such cases are described by the perpetrators as cleansing the family reputation, though they acted on suspicion, nothing else. They will be imprisoned for a few months at the most, and they will be regarded most respectfully.

The writer draws us into a world in which betrayal of honour is an obsession. The vehemence of her protests against male domination and against “a crime that effectively goes unpunished” cannot be missed. She regrets that crimes of honour and other injustices concerning women go unnoticed by the international community and women “live under the umbrella of fear, since the daily possibility of violent death hangs, literally, as a sword over their heads.”

The international community can certainly contribute to a certain extent to dealing with the injustices but the question that begs an answer is: how far can it go when there is an evident and profound lack of political will and complete apathy within the Jordanian society itself? Anyway the book touches a chord in the reader. And you don’t have to be a human rights activist to love it.

Suresh RAMPHUL</B>