If smiling were religiously forbidden, we could claim that we in the Arab world are among the most religious—if not the most religious—people on earth. We are frowning, and frowning is us. But why?
Why do we lack a person with a cheerful face, bright features, pleasant expression, open spirit, and radiant smile—someone whose face shines with warmth, whose manners are lighthearted, whose heart is open and glowing?

In some misguided interpretations, people said that the grim, scowling, tight, and gloomy face is our true, eternal face—as if it were the very nature that God created us upon, and there is no changing the creation of God. In another interpretation, they claimed it’s purely genetic—that the psychological structure of a human being, in all its forms and aspects, stems from his genetic structure. Thus, like a river unable to change its course, we wait helplessly, watching for the day when advances in genetic engineering might finally provide us with a genetic solution to the problem of “grimness and scowling.”

But if you were to ask a deeply pessimistic Arab why we insist on frowning and rejecting smiles as if they were our declared enemy, he would immediately respond, his whole body dripping with amazement and disbelief:
“Why shouldn’t we frown and remain frowning when everything in our lives pushes us to do so?”

If he were to define “foolishness,” he would define it as smiling, being optimistic, and facing life joyfully—in a (primarily economic and living) reality that surrounds you from every side with harsh truths that command you to frown, scowl, and despair, and forbid you to smile, rejoice, or hope. In short, his message would be: “The optimist is a fool!”

I tend to agree with this interpretation—but not to excess or exaggeration. Our economic and living conditions form the “infrastructure” of our grimness and gloom. We must first demolish and change this cursed infrastructure if we want our inner war against our frowning selves to bear fruit—so we may enjoy a new psychological foundation, one that makes us feel that life is better than death, existence better than nothingness, and that the future may yet hold something worth loving.

Still, I said I wouldn’t overstate my agreement with that explanation, sound as it may be in principle and foundation. Our clinging to grimness also has educational roots. We have received from bad upbringing what has deformed and corrupted in our minds the concept of “manhood,” to the point that many have come to understand and practice “manliness” as clinging to sternness and frowning, even when all causes for joy and happiness surround them. To many, a “man” can only prove his “true masculinity” by displaying as much grimness as possible, suppressing all joy and tenderness, and militarizing his psychological makeup. The more he paints his face with frowns, scowls, and rigidity, the more people recognize his “manhood” and acknowledge it!

Even in our relationships with our children, we often withhold affection that stirs within us like the sea, as if showing love, longing, or tenderness were a weakness or a threat to masculinity—both in meaning and in appearance!

This is “manhood” distorted and corrupted—to see a husband behaving like a tyrant at home, over his wife and family, after being submissive and spineless where true courage is needed. It’s as if he compensates for his losses of dignity at work—where he displays to his boss every form of obedience, flattery, and subservience that true manhood despises—by roaring at home.

The relationship between such an employee and his superior is built on a corrupt foundation of hypocrisy and falsehood. The subordinate constantly tries to convince his boss that he possesses unmatched genius, virtue, and talent. Both know it’s a lie: the employee doesn’t believe what he says, and the boss doesn’t believe what he hears.

These paper-made “men” are also seen when they drive their cars recklessly and arrogantly; yet when a traffic officer stops them, they instantly divorce their so-called “manhood” and start begging and pleading to escape a trivial fine. They vanish like bubbles pricked by a pin when reality challenges them to be true men—but roar like lions only where no courage is required.

So it was right for that woman, when asked why she had become “masculine,” to reply:
“Because there’s so little manhood left among men.”

— Jawad Al-Bashiti