CHAPTER 1

Uncertain TrajectoriesThe Joys and Sorrows of Boyhood

Patriarchal assault on the emotional life of boys begins at themoment of their birth.

bell hooks, The Will to Change

ACCORDING TO MONA, a single woman in her late twenties, thereare two kinds of men: a raagil and illi bye'mil raagil (one who pretendsto be a man). While the first term implies an "authentic," genuine manhood,the second implies more of a pretense, an act that is not real.The difference, according to Mona, is that a raagil conducts himself ina manner befitting a man all the time, while illi bye'mil raagil does notconsistently materialize the norms that define a man. Her examples focusedon the way a man treats his wife. Er-raagil fears for his wife's safetyand reputation and thus establishes clear boundaries for her behavior,explaining what is permitted and what is not and why. If she goes tovisit his mother, he ensures that she does not return to their home aloneat night; he instructs her not to leave until he comes to accompanyher home. He is tough, firm, and strict but clearly articulates his logicand reasoning to his wife without resorting to violence. In contrast, illibye'mil raagil may do one thing in one context and then something contradictoryin another. He would claim to care about his wife but wouldsay, "Let her go back home late. What's the problem? What could happento her?" One of Mona's brothers, as she explains, falls into the secondcategory; he makes a big deal out of trivial things (haagaat hayfa)but ignores what is more important. Mona contrasts her brother witha proper man, who is tough (shideed) but reasonable (bi 'aql), who isstrong (qawi) but tender (hinayyin), and who controls his wife but doesnot suffocate her.

Mona's description touches upon some key aspects that define theideal man more broadly in her neighborhood: he is generous but carefulwith his money, controlling but affectionate, dominating but caring,concerned about himself but not vain, assertive but gentle, serious butfun-loving, absent but present. These expectations may seem contradictoryand impossible to materialize in any meaningful sense, and, in away, they are. However, upon closer inspection, one can see that they arecontext-bound. The materialization of a socially credible and recognizedmasculine identification depends, to a large extent, on a man's ability toenact the proper practices, stances, and feelings in the right context. Thismaterialization is central to sustaining a "coherent" masculine trajectoryand a credible definition of a real man. In this chapter, I use the word"materialization" because it captures the struggles, challenges, and physicaland emotional pressures embedded in the processes of becoming aman. The alternative, more common term "performance" continues toevoke some of its daily connotations of deliberate, fake, temporary, andplayful acts, which are not part of how masculinity is lived, practiced,and experienced in al-Zawiya. My use of the word "materialization" aimsto encompass both bodily gestures, movements, and representations aswell as other discursive practices and stances enacted in daily life to assertone's standing as a man. It also aims to capture the interplay between theinternalization of specific norms and their externalization in particularpractices, bodily presentations, and social interactions.

A masculine identification is not fixed, complete, or fully establishedbut has to be re-created and reasserted in different settings. It is alwaysunder the gaze of others, who may challenge, reaffirm, legitimize, or discreditits durability and "authenticity." This chapter aims to account forsome facets of this interplay and seeks to give the reader a sense of how meninternalize and externalize the discursive and embodied knowledge thatthey are imbued with from the moment of birth. To paraphrase Simonede Beauvoir, one is not born, but rather, becomes a man. I start by lookingat one young boy and how he is taught the meaning of boyhood, informedabout manhood, instructed about his body, and introduced to hisquarter and its various spaces. As mentioned in the Introduction, the "lifecycle" notion has proved to be inadequate for capturing the multiple spatialand temporal contexts that shape shared projects of gendering. Thus,rather than looking at a linear or chronological history of the boy's life, thischapter traces certain themes and significant moments of his cultivationas a future working-class man. I then move to look at some of the wordsand labels used to evaluate and critique various aspects of the materializationof masculinity and the social values attached to them. My discussionhighlights some of the hegemonic norms that families work to inculcatein young boys in hopes of producing real men, but I also account for thechallenges, uncertainties, and struggles embedded in this process.

The Joy of Having a Boy

When Hiba became pregnant, she and her husband, Karim, wereoverjoyed. They had waited for that news for three years. The pregnancywas important to them, not only because children are highly valued andloved in Egyptian society and are central to confirming their parents'social status as a couple but also because Karim was a long-distance commuter.Just a few months after their wedding, he had to travel back to hiswork in Saudi Arabia and could spend only limited time in Egypt. Despitethe time they spent together immediately after their wedding and areturn trip by Karim nine months later, she did not get pregnant, andthe expense of additional return trips continued to eat into their savings.After both of them consulted several doctors and received some treatments,they were delighted to learn that Hiba was finally pregnant. Theirjoy doubled as the newborn was not only healthy but also a boy. Thiswas especially desirable because Hiba's husband was from Upper Egyptwhere, she explained, males are greatly valued and viewed as importantsources of financial and moral support.

While her husband was abroad, Hiba and her baby, Ahmed, receivedhis financial support but lived with her family in al-Zawiya. Whenhe was in Egypt, they spent most of the time (usually around two months)in their own apartment in Upper Egypt. Five years after Ahmed's birthtragedy struck when Karim, at the age of thirty-eight, died in Saudi Arabia(see Chapter 5 for details about his death). Hiba, who was only thirty-threeat the time, and her two children (Ahmed, who was five, and hissister, who was five months) now permanently live with her family inal-Zawiya. She makes sure to visit her husband's family at least once a yearto maintain social connections with her in-laws as well as to protect herchildren's rights to the apartment that their father built and the inheritancethey could receive after the death of their grandfather.

I have been fortunate to follow Ahmed's life since he was one yearold; he turned eleven in the summer of 2012. Given that my daughterwas born just two months before him, it was especially interesting for meto observe his upbringing, including a strong emphasis on the teachingof a classed and gendered identity. I followed his life with the eyes of ananthropologist and the interest of a mother and found his boyhood profoundlyinformative. By watching Ahmed grow, I learned a tremendousamount about how gender norms are circulated, taught, and inculcatedin young males and, as we will see later, embodied by men of all ages.

From the moment the doctor announced that the newborn was aboy, Ahmed's evolving identification had a pervasive gender component.Immediately after his birth, there was a process of negation. This, as definedby Connell, denies similarities across genders and underscores differencesbetween infant boys and girls.

Several concrete measures flagged his identification as a boy. Firstwas his name. Ahmed was named after his paternal grandfather. Naming,as argued by Judith Butler, "is at once the setting of a boundary andalso the repeated inculcation of a norm." The name marked Ahmed as aboy and a future man who would maintain the continuity of his father'slineage. Second was his circumcision. In Cairo, most male infants arecircumcised discreetly during the first week of their life, but Ahmed, inUpper Egypt, was circumcised at the age of one. Hiba and her husbandwere respecting Ahmed's paternal grandfather's wish to abide by the traditionsof his village, which marks the circumcision of boys with publiccelebrations and festivities. Third, there were the colors he wore, thebodily adornments he lacked, and the celebration his family had whenhe reached the end of his first week. But above all, there were the continuousdiscursive directives by various people who instructed him abouthis gendered identity. His mother, grandparents, uncles, and aunts alwaysstressed his identity as a boy in their interactions with and treatment ofhim. As soon as Ahmed started talking, his family would instruct him tobehave in certain ways in line with established gender expectations. Theywould say, "Don't cry. Boys don't cry," or "Don't be scared, you're a man."

Other times, they would tell him, "Don't back off. Hit her, you're a boy,"or "Go ahead and shake his hand, you're a man." Once, when he was sixyears old, Ahmed came back home in tears after picking up his uncle'sclothes from the dry cleaner. He described how a big boy had teased himand asked the shop owner to call the police, accusing Ahmed of stealingthe clothes. His uncle and aunt immediately told him to "be a man"(khalleek raagil) and to make sure to respond to any boy who insultedor attacked him. His uncle teasingly reminded him of how he keeps referringto himself as a man (raagil), implying the need to live by hiswords. When I commented that perhaps he should not retaliate becausethe other big boy may beat him up, his mother quickly retorted, "onetime he'll be hit, another time he'll hit back. Over time, he'll learn howto handle himself." Such statements were coupled with specific forms ofself-discipline (for example, how to control his emotions), of regulatinghis bodily gestures and movements (including how to walk, sit, and shakehands), and of educating him about the social expectations that definehim as a boy and a future man.

Ahmed's tearful reaction to the possibility of calling the police todetain him was part of a broader outlook that shaped his views and feelingsabout the security forces and their role in his life. As a man, and aswill be further discussed in the coming chapters, he would have to learnhow to handle the police gaze and make sure to avoid interacting with securityforces as much as possible. At the age of six, Ahmed told me abouta dream where he saw a police officer grabbing him from the back of hisneck and pulling him away. I asked him if he was afraid in the dreamand he answered "no." "When you dream of the government [people inal-Zawiya often used the word hukumah (which means government) toalso refer to the police, in the process equating the two], tell yourself thatwhat you see isn't real so you don't feel scared," Ahmed explained to me,repeating his mother's advice about bad dreams. Over the years, he toldme several stories, jokes, and rumors about the brutality of the police,the bravery of some of his relatives in tricking or standing up to corruptpolicemen, and the changes in the status and authority of policemen afterthe January 25 Revolution. In the summer of 2012, he was proud to tellme how the authority of the police has been challenged in deep ways inhis neighborhood. According to Ahmed, in the past police officers actedlike they were the masters and the people their slaves. He argued thatthe revolution fundamentally undermined the power of the police andrestricted their ability to use unlimited force in their daily interactionwith people. Ahmed supported his point by describing how in the pastpeople had to put up with being falsely accused, detained, and subjectedto insults and beatings, but after the revolution, the police have to becareful about their conduct and might not even retaliate after hearingdirect insults from an ordinary citizen.

Learning to Be a Good Boy

A central part of Ahmed's training has been focused on acquiringknowledge of al-Zawiya, its streets, shops, mosques, and markets. Alreadyat the age of four, Ahmed was going down from the fourth floor,where his family lived, to run errands for his relatives at different nearbyshops and stands. At first, one of them would keep an eye on him fromthe balcony until he went and came back. He would buy matches, softdrinks, cheese, detergent, bleach, milk, yogurt, and more. He was eagerto do these chores and his mother was proud of his abilities. If she neededseveral items or something he could not remember or pronounce, shewould write a list to give to the seller, instructing Ahmed carefully abouthow to handle himself so as to not lose his money or spill what he wouldbuy. Through these chores, he was being trained to negotiate his wayaround the neighborhood and how to navigate its many spaces. He wasinstructed to go only to the shops and stands around his family's buildingand was totally forbidden from crossing any main streets. When he wentto kindergarten, either his mother or a neighbor helped him cross thestreet to and from school. Slowly, his ability to move around expandedand, by the age of seven, he was able to cross the busiest street in thearea. After many years of visiting al-Zawiya, I can attest to the fact thatthis was no trivial accomplishment, seriously complicated by the manypedestrians and sellers who occupy the sides of the street as well as thespeedy vehicles, which have caused several tragic accidents and deaths. Achild usually learns how to cross with a relative, who instructs the child tolook in both directions, wait for the moment when he could find a breakin the line of vehicles, and then quickly but carefully cross to the otherside. When no relatives are available, a child could ask an adult to helphim cross. By the age of seven or eight, most children are able to crossby themselves. During the summer, with school out of session, Ahmedcould go up and down the stairs to his apartment more than ten times aday—a major feat, given the hot weather. His chores were complicatedby his family's limited income, lack of storage areas, and deep appreciationfor fresh produce. These factors restricted their ability to stock upon household products and demanded Ahmed to make trip after trip toget small quantities of required cooking supplies and cleaning materials.

At the age of seven, Ahmed became the person designated to buythe bread for the family during the summer. This entailed waiting inline for several hours under the hot summer sun and enduring harassmentfrom grown-ups who would not respect his turn in the line. Hewas introduced to this chore by his grandmother when he was aroundfour. She would take him with her, tell him to stand in line, give himthe money, instruct him how to handle the bread when it was given tohim, and stand next to him to help. He slowly started going by himself.Before Ahmed turned eight, he would wait in the women's line for bread;however, as he grew older, he began standing in the men's line, which hesays is usually faster and more organized than the women's. In the summerof 2012, Ahmed was proud and happy to tell me that he had goodconnections (the mother of one of his close friends) that enabled himto quickly get good-quality bread. However, his happiness did not lastfor long. His mother got furious when he came back one day with half-bakedbread and instructed him to only get bread from another place thatis much farther than the one he frequented. Usually, he would return tothe apartment after this chore totally exhausted and sweaty but often,even before he rested and despite his protests, he would be sent down tobuy something else.