Saudi Arabia's system of criminal justice has had a history of arbitrary neglect and violation of women's human rights that goes far beyond simple discrimination.

Despite the government's notorious resistance to change, there is no reason for it to remain that way. Besides contradicting the Saudi government's position on human rights, the abuses conflict with the Islamic law that forms the basis of Saudi justice.

A typical example is that of Nieves, a Filipina married mother of two children who worked in Riyadh. On November 9, 1992, she and a female friend joined a mixed group of men and women for a birthday dinner. In the middle of their meal, a squad of religious police arrested them all, and forced Nieves to sign a confession in Arabic, a language she could not read, stating that Nieves was prostituting herself to one of the men. In court Nieves denied the charge, but on the basis of her signed confession she was convicted of prostitution and sentenced to 25 days in jail and 60 lashes, with no opportunity for appeal. Since the men could not be accused of prostitution, they remained unpunished. While the trial and punishment certainly have a basis in Saudi law (and, by proxy, Islamic law), a forced confession was blatantly illegal.

Abuse of women's human rights is mostly unofficial. The key offenders are the religious police forces, which form a coalition known as the Committee for the Propagation of Virtue and Prevention of Vice (CPVPV). Unlike the public-- security police, the CPVPV is not accountable to the Minister of the Interior. However, it works closely with the state's legal institutions and hands over all its suspects to public-security police after initial questioning. The close ties between the state and the CPVPV lead some to conflate the CPVPV and the Islamic law that is at the root of Saudi Arabia's criminal justice system. On the contrary, the CPVPV is an entity unto itself, with its own specious procedures. For example, the CPVPV offers incentives for arresting wrongdoers. Members of the religious police get the equivalent of US$300 for every Saudi they arrest, and US$150 for every foreigner.

The existence of recognized institutions with such power makes it possible for women to be mistreated under the pretense of enforcing the law. However, these human-rights abuses should be distinguished from the mostly unquestioned discrimination established in law. Lawful discrimination, symbolized by women's full-body cloaks and restrictions on their movement and occupation, is a well-established facet of Islamic law as applied in Saudi Arabia. The rationale is that under Islam, all parts of the female body are sexual. The female gender is seen as an implicit moral weakness, and women are viewed as needing guidance from more rational men. This doctrine is uncontroversial in Saudi Arabia; in fact, most women of the faith support it.

Nowhere, however, does Islam allow for the mistreatment of women simply because they are women. The Koran treats women more as children than as inevitable evildoers. Women and men have the same obligations of sharia (the Islamic law of daily life), the same religious duties of prayer and pilgrimage, and the same Paradise as their eventual destination. Islam does not demand misogyny, only correction.

At the moment, vague laws allow organizations such as the CPVPV free reign. For example, an oft-cited justification of brutal treatment of women is a part of the constitution prohibiting "mischief and discord." The clause can be stretched to encompass virtually any activity, especially in the case of women. Saudi Arabia is free to discriminate against women as it pleases. But vague laws play out in the CPVPV's activities in a way no one in Saudi Arabia can condone, and it demonstrates the need for stricter regulation of the CPVPV.

To an extent, the CPVPV and groups like it could be reined in by enforcing laws Saudi Arabia already has in place, especially those complying with the international standards that Saudi Arabia has recognized as a member of organizations such as the United Nations. On August 23, 2000, Saudi Arabia took a significant step toward protecting women's human rights by pledging to join the UN Convention on Women's Rights, with the caveat that it will not abide by any provision contradicting Islamic law. This commits Saudi Arabia to eliminating physical, psychological, and sexual violence against women, all of which are prohibited by the teachings of Islam. The time scale remains undetermined, however, and Saudi Arabia refuses to agree to outside arbitration of cases, suggesting that enforcement will remain poor.

Until the government decides to subject the actions of the CPVPV to legislative controls, women's rights will continue to be violated in Saudi Arabia. It remains unclear what purpose the CPVPV serves in Saudi society. Is its abuse of women simply misuse of police power of the kind that occurs routinely in places like New York City? Or are its actions part of a broad-based program to keep women from becoming too vocal in calling for an end to discrimination of all kinds? Regardless, if the world is to take Saudi Arabia's commitment to protecting human rights within an Islamic context seriously, Saudi Arabia must implement a gentler brand of Islamic authority.