OPINION: Why are all these women still not allowed to drive?

On International Women’s Day, we share powerful stories about powerful women. We celebrate women who defend other women, who have brought about change, who shape the world. Why, asks Yehudis Fletcher, do we not shine a spotlight on the Charedi women forced to live their lives as permanent backseat drivers?

This International Women’s Day, I ask you to remember the stories that are not heard: the women who never get mentioned, whose voices never make these pages. Women not on ’20-under-20′ lists, or those who will never be invited to the Downing Street Chanukah party; women whose basic rights are being denied by the men who are invited. Why does this go unchallenged? Do these women not count on International Women’s Day?

Thousands of Chasidic women across the UK are not allowed to drive. It became a public scandal in the UK 2015. Despite this, nothing has changed.

This isn’t a hidden abuse. It’s not something leaders will deny.

In 2015, Chaya Spitz of the Interlink foundation said “the rule is key” to Chasidic identity but “this is not Saudi Arabia, and women will not be flogged for driving”.

The narrative portrayed is that women don’t want the responsibility of driving, or at least accept that it is an acceptable restriction that they embrace, no different from wearing a wig or a skirt.

That may be true for some but is far from a  universal attitude within Charedi circles.

It is worth noting although Saudi Arabia has recently  lifted its ban on women driving, Chasidic leaders haven’t.

Ordinary Chasidic women have told me they feel stuck being prevented from driving. Every one I spoke to told me not being able to drive made planning and controlling their own lives incredibly difficult. Women with medical conditions (including mental health concerns) described the impossible task of managing busy households while trying to get to and from frequent medical appointments.

Charitable organisations that pay for taxis don’t solve the problem of chronic lateness, being unable to manage their own schedule and the overall lack of independence. Devastatingly, several women described a culture of sexual harassment from taxi drivers in firms frequently patronised by the community.

Ordinary Chasidic women have told me they feel stuck being prevented from driving. Every one I spoke to told me not being able to drive made planning and controlling their own lives incredibly difficult.

Women described being dependent on their husbands for lifts and the difficulties that brought – ironically, one woman told me she was given a heter (halachik dispensation) to learn to drive because the rabbi agreed her husband was unreliable and chronically late. He wouldn’t let the couple use his name when telling people about their dispensation in case it became known he had become permissive about women’s driving. The reputational risk to the rabbi himself was too great.

Another woman told me her husband threatened to divorce her if she learned to drive and followed through on his threat. She told me she was so angry that pregnant women have to traipse around with all their children in extreme heat and extreme cold, while men get to drive around comfortably.

Women described staying in cramped housing in town centres because they rely on being within walking distance of schools and shops, stopping them moving to some of the newer communities with more space because they fear being stuck at home.

It is worth noting although Saudi Arabia has recently  lifted its ban on women driving, Chasidic leaders haven’t.

Women are asking rabbis for reasons and justifications for the restriction and it’s hard to get a straight answer other than es pas nisht (it’s unbecoming).

One woman told me she asked her rabbi for permission to learn to drive and he said when women drive they feel very empowered and the men should be the ones to feel this way, not the women. She was mortified by his response, and is still struggling to find a way to find beauty in her tradition, still trying to make sense of it.

This International Women’s Day, I urge you to think beyond women who are in the public eye and spare a thought for the woman waiting at the bus stop with her double buggy.