Across years of war and division in Yemen, women have not been merely collateral victims of the conflict. In many cases, they have become direct targets of policies of repression and exclusion. What is painful is that this suffering is not limited to areas under Houthi control—where freedoms are restricted and rights are confiscated in the name of “social control”—but also extends to areas governed by the internationally recognised government, which was supposed to offer an alternative model: a modern state in which women participate effectively in public decision-making. Between these two realities, Yemeni women find themselves punished twice—once through repression, and once through marginalisation.
This contradiction becomes even more painful when we remember a deeply rooted truth in Yemeni and Arab consciousness: historically, Yemen was not a land unfamiliar with women’s leadership. Yemen was ruled by a woman, and Yemeni history has preserved the names of great women who played political, civilisational, and humanitarian roles recorded in religious memory, archaeology, and historical accounts. At the forefront of these symbols stands the Queen of Sheba (Bilqis), whose name is associated with well-known religious narratives and a civilisational legacy reflected in archaeological evidence and historical tradition. Recalling this history is not cultural luxury; it is a reminder that excluding women today is not a “Yemeni destiny,” nor an authentic part of Yemen’s identity. Rather, it is a deviation from roots that prove women were capable of leadership and state-building.
First: Houthi crimes against women—systematic repression, not isolated incidents
In areas under Houthi control, talk of violations against women is no longer limited to individual complaints or isolated abuses. It has become a recurring pattern that people witness in the details of daily life. There are clear restrictions on women’s movement, their ability to work and travel, and the space available to them in public life. This repression is not reflected only in decisions and procedures, but also in an atmosphere of fear built around women: What does she wear? Where does she go? Who does she speak to? Does she work? Does she travel? Does she participate in any civil or humanitarian activity?
These violations take multiple forms:
- Restricting movement, travel, and mobility through conditions, approvals, and procedures that treat women as minors regardless of age or social status.
- Narrowing employment opportunities and imposing constraints that obstruct women from accessing their jobs or continuing in professions on which entire families depend.
- Intimidating society through monitoring public life and interfering in family privacy, creating an image of women as “suspects” who require permission and surveillance.
- Summons, interrogations, and detention in some cases, accompanied by moral humiliation and psychological pressure—tools designed to break the will before breaking the law.
What is most dangerous is not only the scale of harm, but the political and social message behind it: that women should be pushed back to the margins, and that their presence in education, work, and civic space is an “exception” rather than a “right.” In this way, women become an additional battlefield—a struggle over the body, movement, voice, and the ability to choose a dignified life.
Second: The marginalisation of women within the “legitimate” authorities—a state without women in decision-making
On the other side, the internationally recognised government was expected to show a clear difference in its model of governance and to move Yemen towards a state of citizenship and institutions that include everyone. Yet the political reality of recent years presents a shocking picture: women’s representation in decision-making positions has remained extremely weak, and in many moments it has been almost nonexistent.
A pressing question therefore arises: how can a government that speaks in the name of the state, the republic, and the law remain, in practice, a government of men only? How is it acceptable that long years pass without seeing a woman holding an influential ministerial portfolio? We are speaking of roughly ten years in which no clear female presence has appeared within the cabinet, while promises in statements and speeches about “women’s empowerment” are repeated without real translation into decisions.
The absence of women from ministerial portfolios is not a minor formal detail. It is an indicator of a political mindset that still views women as “decorations” at events, or as “rhetorical material” for the international community, rather than as partners in shaping policy. This exclusion also deepens the crisis of trust between society and the state: if the state itself does not recognise women’s competence and does not give them their rightful place, how can we expect society to change?
The greatest contradiction is that this exclusion happens in a country whose history contains a model of women’s leadership, and whose memory holds evidence of great women who played roles in governance and social development. Yemen, which takes pride in the civilisation of Sheba and the story of its queen—who has become a symbol of wisdom and decisive leadership—does not befit a reality in which it fails to appoint a woman to a ministry or represent her in sovereign positions.
Why is this marginalisation dangerous for all of Yemen?
Yemeni women are not a marginal group. They are a fundamental pillar in education, care, community work, humanitarian response, and family protection under conditions of displacement and poverty. When women are excluded from decision-making, the real priorities of people are excluded with them:
- Protecting women and girls from violence
- Education and combating school dropout
- Health and family care
- Livelihoods in an economically exhausted environment
- Displacement and humanitarian needs
The absence of women from government also weakens Yemen’s ability to build sustainable peace. Peace is not the signing of an agreement between leaders; it is the rebuilding of society. Women are the most connected to the details of everyday life and—when given space—the most capable of supporting reconciliation, limiting extremism, and restoring the social fabric.
What is required? A shift from condemnation to reform
If society truly wants to save what remains of Yemen, it is not enough to condemn Houthi violations against women, and it is not enough to blame the recognised authorities for their failures. Two parallel paths are required:
In Houthi-controlled areas:
Stopping policies that restrict movement and work; ending practices that humiliate women and diminish their humanity; and ensuring that security forces and authority are not used as tools to intimidate women or control their lives.
In government-controlled areas:
A courageous and clear political decision to include women in government, ministries, and sovereign positions; establishing transparent standards for appointments away from narrow power-sharing; and adopting genuine female representation in committees and councils, not merely symbolic inclusion. The internationally recognised authorities need to be a role model, not a softened version of exclusion.
Yemen will not advance while treating women as a threat in Houthi areas and as an unnecessary presence in government areas. This is a country that cannot rise with one hand. Yemen’s own history testifies that women are not newcomers to leadership nor strangers to governance. From Bilqis, the Queen of Sheba, to great women whose names were engraved in religious, archaeological, and historical memory, women were part of Yemen’s civilisational identity. Restoring women’s role today is therefore not only a “modern” demand—it is a return to Yemen’s true spirit: the spirit of wisdom, partnership, and building a state on competence rather than gender.
