Naomi Klein’s comparison between Rachel Corrie and Jessica Lynch, particularly the attention she pays to the story of Corrie, illustrate the broad, almost invisible borders that defined Corrie’s conception of political and feminist solidarity. As Theresa Saliba highlights in her essay, Corrie was not merely determined to align herself politically, socially, or based upon her gender but instead sought to reach across all lines of Palestinian society to peacefully stand against the oppression of the Israeli government.
Despite her status as an American, Corrie had realized an almost unknown status of human solidarity that had little to do with religion, gender, or nation. However, Corrie did not neglect the needs of the Palestinian women she encountered. Instead, she brought the same notion of political solidarity to her work with the women of Gaza. It is that overlapping of nuances, both political and gender-related, that underline the arguments of not only Corrie’s actions as described by Klein or Saliba’s defense of Corrie but the concept of feminist solidarity throughout the Arab world.
Kim Berry’s examination of the misuse and abuse of the Bush Administration’s so-called defense of women’s rights, examines how important the perception of women has become in the “war-on-terror” but more importantly how such rhetoric can actually undermine these same rights. It creates a politically appealing picture for the public, to illustrate the evils of the Taliban but fails to engage the Afghan women themselves.
Similarly, such posturing does little to economically or socially improve the lives of Afghan woman, as noted in the Feminist Majority Foundation’s press release on the need for more funding for the establishment of women’s rights. In the present climate, both abroad and in the U. S. , as shown in Mervat Hatem’s examination of Arab-American relations, feminist solidarity becomes part of a larger construct of human rights.