Doaa Fares believed she could be somebody other than herself: a 17-year old
high-school dropout from a deeply conservative Druze village, where most
women marry young and settle into traditional roles.
The striking brunette with sea-green eyes and pouting lips changed her name to
Angelina and entered the Miss Israel beauty pageant hoping to be crowned
queen, a title that comes with a cash prize, modelling contract and a car.
Instead, Angelina — the first Druze to compete in the pageant — was threatened
with death, allegedly by two uncles and other men from her village who
accused her of disgracing the family name with promiscuous behaviour.
When police uncovered the apparent plot to kill her last week, Ms Fares
disappeared into protective custody. When she emerged from hiding she
announced that she was withdrawing from the competition, fearing for her
life.
“My life is much more important than a contest, but it’s very difficult for me
to give up my dream,” she said, sitting in the darkened living room of her
family home in this small Galilean village. She is too frightened to answer
her mobile phone or leave the house.
Ms Fares’s story has dominated the Israeli media as a high-profile example of
a foiled “hon-our killing”, where a woman is murdered by members of her own
family for supposed sexual offences that have somehow brought shame to the
family.
Last year, seventeen Palestinian women were reported killed in honour crimes,
twelve in the Gaza Strip and five in the occupied West Bank. In Israel,
seven women were similarly killed for “crimes” ranging from having sex
before marriage to being the victim of rape.
For Ms Fares the controversy began last November, when she decided to enter
the Miss Israel contest. She chose the name “Angelina” in honour of her
idol, the American actress Angelina Jolie, and spent hours watching Fashion
Television to prepare for her audition.
The first phase of the competition was a bikini contest. Ms Fares knew that
parading in her red two-piece could be considered controversial in the Druze
community, whose religion is an offshoot of Islam.
Her participation in the pageant even raised the judges’ eyebrows. “They were
very surprised when they found out I was Druze. They asked me if it would be
a problem for me to be in the contest. I told them ‘no’, that my whole
family supported me,” Ms Fares said.
Dalia, Ms Fares’ mother, defended that decision, saying that she did not want
to interfere with her daughter’s dreams. “She was there to represent
herself, not the whole Druze community,” she said.
Ms Fares was chosen as one of twenty finalists, convincing the family that
they had done the right thing. “Ever since childhood I was preparing myself
for this. It was like the dream I had lived inside my head for so long,” Ms
Fares said.
Last month, the contestants flew to Thailand on a supervised tour with contest
organis-ers, but while Ms Fares was sightseeing, swimming and sun-bathing,
trouble was brewing at home. Advertisements featuring Ms Fares in a
miniskirt and sleeveless top were published in magazines. On her return to
Israel, she received threatening phone calls and e-mails. Men from a
neighbouring village shouted insults when she walked down the street.
“They said, ‘You’re a Druze girl, you should be ashamed of yourself’. Some
even accused me of prostitution.”
The accusations ignited a furious debate in the village and beyond. Ms Fares
was invited to appear on talk shows; her photograph was on the front pages
of Israeli newspapers.
Supporters pressed Ms Fares to remain in the competition, while critics —
including the Druze spiritual leader Sheikh Mowafak Tarif — demanded that
she drop out. “We do encourage progress and mod-ernisation, but certainly
there are limits to which a woman can expose herself,” Sheikh Tarif told The
Times.
Last week, police received a tip that a group of men in the village, including
two of Ms Fares’s uncles, were plotting to kill her. Anwar and Hatem Fares
allegedly hired two men to buy guns and a third man to murder their niece.
She was taken into protective custody and all five men were jailed.
But the sequence of events forced the Fares family to reconsider. “These are
people who love me and I love them. I was shocked,” Ms Fares said. “I
stepped out, out of respect for our religious leaders and dignitaries. Above
all, it was out of respect for my family.”
The Fares family refused to press charges against the uncles, and they were
released. But Colonel Ephy Fertouk, the local police investigator, said that
the case is not closed.
Sheikh Tarif says that Angelina could face further problems: “We live in a
democratic state and freedom prevails, but if a woman goes beyond the red
lines, it will cause people to isolate this person or worse.”
But Ms Fares is determined to pursue her dream. She has hired an agent and a
spokes-person and is to star in a documentary about her ordeal. And she will
still be at the Miss Israel pageant — if only as a spectator: “I will
definitely be there, you can count on it.”
The mysterious Druze
There are 104,000 Druze in Israel and around one million worldwide
Druze do not accept converts from other religions, and so all of today’s
population descend directly from the original 10th-century adherents
The tenets of the religion are kept secret not just from outsiders but also
from the majority of the Druze, who are known as juhal (ignorant
ones) and must accept the faith on trust Most scholars consider the religion
to be a mix of Judaeo-Christian and Islamic traditions, incorporating
elements of Greek philosophy as well as a belief in reincarnation
The Israeli Druze community is afforded special minority privileges, with its
own courts. Members speak Arabic, but dissociate themselves from the Muslim
community, serving in the Israeli Defence Forces
Source: Jewish Virtual Library
