Internalization of colonialism and Muslim feminism

Ahmed (1992, p. 178-179) argues that “the internalization of colonialism and of notions of the innate superiority of the European over the native- the colonization of consciousness, in short- could complicate feminism.” This is true. However, another fact in tandem with this is that even the earliest forms of Islamic feminism appeared in a post-colonial Muslim world because of the “internalization of colonialism.” It is no coincidence that all the early Islamic/Muslim feminists were either born in a colonised Muslim world or were European educated women and men (often bilingual) who claimed to “be progressive about gender, sexuality, ritual, law, or other questions of Islamic reform… in the face of naked hatred from outside” (Knight, 2013). Impact of colonisation can be gauged from the example that although Iran resisted being colonised in the 19th Century it lost part of its territory to Russo-Persian and Anglo-Persian Wars where Western influence set its roots giving rise to political and social unrest. It was in such a socio-political scene that  Fatimih Baraghani was born (who later converted to Babism), the “first woman to unveil and to question both political and religious orthodoxy” (Nafisi, 2003). Baraghani was succeeded by other gender reformers like Huda Shaarawi, Muhammad Abduh, Aisha Abd al-Rahman, Qasim Amin (whose work is now considered by modern Islamic feminists as andocentric and colonist [Ahmed, 1992]), Fatma Aliye Topuz, Nezihe Muhiddin, Halide Edip Adivar, Hind Nawfal, Nazira Zain El Din, and Labiba Shamtin all of whom were born in the colonial and post-colonial era and were influenced by the European colonist thought. It is no wonder then that for the conservative Muslims who opposed both colonialism and gender reform “”feminism” became linked to colonialism and Western imposition, having to defend Islam as a sign of identity of Muslim societies against every “external” current, as if justice for women was a cause unrelated to Islam” (Quiroga, 2012, para. 6).

 

Similarly, I believe that globalisation, Wahhabism, and the explosive growth of Islam that has reached the West has reinvigorated Islamic/Muslim feminism which has been influenced by both globalisation and the critical thinking skills that Western education emphasizes (Hassan et al. 2010). Two commonly held beliefs exist in the Muslim community: 1) the belief that every edict in the Quran is timeless; 2) and that every statement in the Quran is a religious law. These beliefs have given rise to the need for some modern Muslims (often called by others and themselves as ‘liberal’ or ‘progressive’ Muslims) to indulge in new theological debates that either build upon or negate the existing discourses by classical scholars of the Quran like Qadi ibn Arabi, Ibn Katheer, Muhammad al Tabari and others. Most Islamic feminists who attempt to reinterpret the Quran are either Western or have been raised/educated in the West, and fault the classical interpretations for their “patriarchal slant” (Barlas, 2002; Wadud, 1992; Hassan, n.d; Mir-Hosseini, 2012; Shaikh, 1997). Their argument is that although Quran was revealed in 609 AD, it is a text of guidance for all people of all times, hence contested verses (particularly Quran: 4:34; 4:3; 2:222; 4:11-12; 24:31) must have always had a progressive and feminist intent but were misinterpreted by patriarchal scholars to control women. Where the vast majority of Muslim and Islamic feminists today are either Western or have been educated in the West, ironically many of their opponents come from similar socio-political backgrounds like, Maryam Jameelah, a Jewish convert to Islam who became the second wife of a Jamat-e-Islami member and emigrated to live in Pakistan from where she wrote that, “Never has moral corruption and social decadence menaced mankind on such a universal scale as is the case now. The adoption of feminist ideals degrades humans lower than the animals” (Jameelah, n.d). In between the progressive and the conservative Muslims is another group that rationalises gender and Islam slightly differently.

 

While there are many feminists who blame ‘patriarchal interpretations’ of the Quran for the “oppression of Muslim women”, there are other feminists who believe that some injunctions in the Quran were revealed for a specific time and a specific people, and that not every edict in the Quran is a religious command. For instance, Muhammad Abduh “radically” distinguished between Ibadat (the principles or doctrines of worship) and Muamalat (laws and commandments concerning social relations, customs and mores). Ibadat according to Abduh were constant, universal and unchanging like Tawhid (monotheism) and Salah (prayer), while Muamalat were not constant and depended on  the cultural context in question. Such a view allowed Abduh to explain the unnecessity of polygamy in the modern world (Abduh, n.d., P. 117). Similarly, Wadud (1999, p. 55) tries to explain Hur-al-‘Ayn as “something specific to the Jahili Arab… (that) demonstrates the Qur’an’s familiarity with the dreams and desires of those Arabs” (emphasis mine). Wadud rationalises that, “If we take these mythological depictions universally as the ideal female, a number of culturally specific limitations are forced on the divergent audiences of the Qur’an” (Ibid). These feminists have demonstrated an acceptance and  approval of cultural relativism, and acknowledge that the first audience of the Quran was remarkably different from us that must have required some time and cultural bound Quranic decrees – the Muamalat. 

What type of feminist are you – the one who thinks Quranic interpretations are patriarchal or the one who thinks there’s a difference between different laws in the Quran? And what do you consider as the reason you are a feminist?

The politics of reproduction in the golden cages

During the 16th and 17th centuries imperial harems of the Ottoman emperors greatly contributed to the spread of politics and religion. However, these were, at the same time, completely misunderstood and misrepresented by the West (Peirce, 1993:viii).

Throughout history, from Arabia to Turkey to the Mogul India, influential and financially capable men kept concubines that helped in increasing the population. Slavery was an integral part of Ottoman society and as late as 1908 women slaves were still sold in the Empire (Source). The last Mogul emperor, Bahadur Shah Zafar had “four wives and numerous concubines”. He died in 1862 so till that time concubinage was openly practiced in India. It is recorded that Mogul kings slept with as many as 300 concubines in their lifetime. Similarly, till 1960s in Saudi Arabia concubinage was an ‘open secret’. King Ibn Saud had between 80 and 100 offspring from the many views and concubines.

In the Mogul and Ottoman empires, the royal harems contained as many as 12,000 women (wives, daughters, concubines, slaves, and sisters) and their quarters were guarded by strong women and the royal eunuchs:

“Eunuchs at the Ottoman court were preferably taken from Africa, especially Sudan. Since lighter skin was considered more aesthetic than dark skin, the sultans felt the chances of an affair developing between their, mostly Eastern European, concubines and their dark-skinned eunuch caretakers extremely low” (Source).

Peirce (1993:20) observes that while political maturity for males began with the “onset of fathering children”, the maturity for concubines was marked by the “cessation of childbearing” which Peirce calls the “postsexual status”. Each concubine was allowed to bear only one son. After the birth of the son the emperor would stop sleeping with her and she would live the rest of her life training her son to become the royal throne’s successor. The sons would learn literature, art, archery, fencing, politics and all subjects that make a man out of a man. In the second half of the 16th century princes were caged in the royal harem in the Ottoman Empire – “The Ottoman harem was often called “the golden cage”. Male princely heirs lived in a part of the palace that was called kafes, which translates as “cage” from Ottoman Turkish. Here the princes had to live in seclusion until they were either executed so as not be a threat to the crown prince, or be released once they become sultans” (Source).

Klein (2007: 63-83, in Campbell et al.) notices that the Ottoman emperors hardly ever required more than one wife with the abundant supply of beautiful European concubines and during the 15th and 16th centuries marriage of emperors in the Ottoman Empire had become obsolete. This happened in early Abbasid period as well when “after the death of the Abbasid Harun-al-Rashid, the caliphs apparently only rarely married relying instead on their concubines to produce children” (Kennedy, 2006). The harem system lured non-Muslims towards Arabization – in Spain during the reign of Abd-al-Rahman II “the lure of the language, literature, religion and institutions of the conquerors – including the harem system – had become so strong that a large number of urban Christians had become Arabized” (Hitti, 1970).

Thus, concubinage was very much a part of elite male life throughout history. With the modern view and desire for  mutual respect, equality of genders, and equitable sexual morality there is dislike for sex outside ‘legal’ marriage and hence we like to perceive concubinage as a deviation from the standard (which is only a recent phenomenon) and even like to pretend that it never existed. Yet, harems and concubinage had a lot more to do than just sex. The Golden Cages produced strong women and great leaders who were former concubines and sons of those concubines. More than sex there was the politics of reproduction at play.

References

Campbell. G, Miers. M, and Miller, J.C. (Eds).(2007). Women and Slavery, Volume One – Africa, the Indian Ocean World, and the Medieval North Atlantic. Athens: Ohio University Press.

Hitti, P. K. (1958). History of the Arabs: From the Earliest Times to the Present. London: McMillan.

Kennedy, H. (2006). When Baghdad Ruled the Muslim World: The Rise and Fall of Islam’s Greatest Dynasty. Da Capo Press.

Peirce, L.P. (1993). The Imperial Harem – Women and Sovereignty in the Ottoman Empire. New York: Oxford University Press

Islam belongs to the feminists too

This post has seen many procrastinated mornings and evenings. I’m still not sure if I’d be able to articulate what I want to say. But no harm in trying.

Two years ago, Muslim feminism was just a project for me. Today I have fallen in love with Muslim feminists. A good part of my day is spent thinking about you, the Muslim feminists, and about Muslim feminism.

I was born into a Hanafi/Shafi family and a few years ago when I was at the peak of my religious fervor for madhab (Sunni school of thought, either: Hanafi, Shafi, Maliki or Hanabli)I wrote that Islam doesn’t need Muslim feminism (yes, horror!). I couldn’t have been more wrong.

While we chant the mantra often that “Islam is not monolithic” or that “there is extreme diversity in the Muslim community”, it is often because of our intolerance that we refuse to respect co-religionists who are different in their practice of the religion from us. Many Muslim feminists *choose* how they want to practice Islam and  let’s face it – we don’t like it! Dr. Amina Wadud leading the Friday prayer made many Muslims, men and women, uncomfortable. It was the first time I realised that Muslim women and feminists are constantly harassed – not only by non-Muslims but also by Muslims.

Each one of us believes that we are practicing the religion absolutely correctly – “as it was meant to be.” A very quick look into the history of Islam and Muslim nations would put our views straight. None of us can truly say what was the Islam of the first Muslims. Very soon after after the Prophet’s death Islam began to imbibe elements of religious practices of Sasanian and Byzantine nations that Muslims conquered: quick wealth meant veiling, which was exclusively for the elite, became widespread; men began denying inheritance to their womenfolk; Caliph Umar banned women from going to mosques and instated stoning as punishment for adultery – apparently even claiming that stoning was mentioned in the Quran and the verse was eaten by a goat!; Aisha’s failed leadership was used to warn against women taking up political roles; homosexuality became punishable as a crime and a sin and people began recalling hadith instructing the murder of homosexuals; the Umayyads created large harems and secluded their women. Not only this but according to early qiyas all Madhabs fixed minimum mahr (by analogizing the loss of virginity with theft) as the highest value of stolen goods before punishment of hand amputation was valid! (Oh yes, jurists also recalled 200 years later that the Prophet used to punish thieves by cutting off their hands). While Hanafis allowed an adult (note: not a minor) woman to contract her own marriage, other three require a male guardian or wali. Fathers and male guardians could marry their minor daughters without their consent recalling that Abu Bakr never consulted Aisha.

This is the Islam handed down to us, packaged in madhabs, fiqh and shariah. Can we ever successfully sift Sasanian and Byzantine influences from the “pure Islam” that we claim to know?

I don’t blame Muslim feminists who oppose all or part of the laws (not Islam!) I mentioned above. Most Muslim feminists use the Quran to argue that veiling was strictly for the Prophet’s wives. They want due inheritance as promised in the Quran. Feminists argue that it is their religious right to be allowed to pray in mosques just like men. All Muslim feminists are against stoning of adulterers and killing of homosexuals. Muslim feminists use examples of other great women to argue that Islam doesn’t forbid them from entering politics. These men and women are generally against child marriages, polygamy and concubinage and demand that dowry be seen as a gift, not price for sexual access. Is that too much to ask?

Post 9/11 we (Muslims) have become a paranoid nation and rightly so, but sadly paranoia also comes with rejection of anything that seems foreign. But have we ever stopped to think that what we may think as “foreign” is actually the native religion and what we have been accepting as Islam is filled with “foreign” influences?

The only self-proclaimed Muslim feminist that I don’t like much is Asra Nomani but I listen even to her. No one makes absolute nonsense and there is always something to be learned from others even if it is a painful lesson from an enemy. Why is it that we like to first (mis)judge feminists who are Muslim before we even listen to them?! These men and women are NOT against Islam. They just want their rights and want to live in the 21st Century not in the dark shadows of the Abbasids and Umayyads.

A few weeks ago I tried to understand the views of a friend and tried to make him understand the views of Muslim feminists. But you know what? If the traditionalists don’t want to listen to Muslim feminists, I don’t think Muslim feminists want to talk to them either. Islam belongs to the feminists too.

The art of dissidence through creative knowledge

It’s been a while since I mused here. As my friends would know I’ve been up to my eyeballs in Islamic feminist literature these days and there is a lot I want to discuss with you starting with the terminology we use for feminisms within Muslim societies to what we can do to empower Muslim women.

Last week I finished re-reading Sexual Ethics & Islam: Feminist Reflections on Qur’an, Hadith and Jurisprudence by Kecia Ali which left me with questions that I hadn’t asked myself the first time I read the book when I wasn’t a graduate student. Then I watched Kecia Ali’s interview where she mentions how she, like me, started her research with “contemporary questions” about feministic interpretations within Islam. She mentions in the video that she read a lot of “history” at that point.

I was an uninterested student before university and was one who didn’t like history at all. But once I started university I became increasing interested in the history that has shaped our world. Once while going through my father’s old books I found a book on the history of Hinduism and that is where my interest in the history of theology began. I remember highlighting a particular passage from the book which discussed the role of women in Hinduism. Although I have lost the book and forgotten the name I researched on the passage that I could recall. It was about marriage in Hinduism. In the Baudhayana Prasna I, Adhyaya 8, Kandika 16, verses 1-2, it is written:

“There are four castes: Brahmanas, Kshatriyas, Vaisyas, and Sudras. Males belonging to them may take wives according to the order of the castes: Brahmana four, a Kshatriya three, a Vaisya two and a Sudra one.”

Some years later when I was reading this book on polygamy that left a deep and disturbing impression on me (a reason why I began blogging, by the way) I would engage in long conversations on the topic of Muslim polygamy. During one such online dialogue with a woman in a polygynous marriage I confessed how the idea of polygyny disturbed me. She was furious! This self-confessed feminist told me that had it not been for Islam, polygamy would have been unlimited. She told me she found peace with her husband’s second marriage after an imam explained to her that it was God’s mercy that she didn’t have to deal with an unlimited number of co-wives for no religion before Islam ever placed a limit on polygamy.

This I knew was not true. I had read that Hindu law had already placed a restriction on polygamy at least 700 years before Islam. What did this knowledge mean for me?

I see world religions as manifestations of socio-political scenarios of the ancient world. In the absence of the contemporary distinction between the ‘state’ and the ‘church/mosque’, in the ancient world religion equaled the state. It is common knowledge that Jesus’ trial was not motivated by religion but by politics. The pharaoh’s enmity with Moses was not due to religious beliefs but on the grounds of politics. The Prophet Muhammad was both the head of the religious body and the state.

It is therefore necessary for me to know both religion and ancient world history to make sense of why a religious edict was instated and why it was carried on.

This morning I was watching a video clip of Nawal El Saadawi speaking. Around 10.20 in the clip she mentions how “women became inferior in religion because of the political system.” She goes on to say, “in fact religion is a political ideology.” El Saadawi believes that “creativity is related to understanding and knowledge. And knowledge comes from connection. True knowledge come from connections and undoing the split between specialties.”

Coming back to what did that knowledge of Hindu law meant for me – it meant the opportunity for creativity. I made immediate connections with Islam. I undid the split between the two specialties: Islam and Hinduism. Restriction on polygamy not only set social order – one man producing six dozen children with unlimited women (and this is happening even now) – it also created class consciousness. The rich who could afford to be *fair* would have more. The poorest class that couldn’t afford three square meals logically couldn’t afford polygamy either. The elite were not only “serial grooms” (always keeping no more than four wives) they also kept many concubines to exhibit their elitism.

Restriction on polygamy or even the injunction to treat all wives fairly has not really protected women’s rights because as you can see from the video link I posted above men know ways to get around the limits laid down by religious/state law. If a man can’t be fair between two wives he divorces one. If he can’t have more than four he keeps divorcing and remarrying. This has always been a male practice for centuries even after Hindu and Muslim law limiting polygamy.

What we need is to make more connections and be creative. This opportunity arose once more for me when I read ‘The origin of mut’ah (temporary marriage) in early Islam’ by Paula I. Nielson. In her work Nielson traces the history of mutah marriage which in pre-Islamic times was not a temporary marriage but was a “matrilineal marriage.” A common stipulation in such a matrilineal marriage contract was the “female-oriented privilege” that the man would not remarry as long as she lived. Nielson points to several facts surrounding the marriage of the Prophet and Khadija and claims that their marriage was matrilineal which is why soon after her death he immediately remarried several times.

This is important knowledge for contemporary Muslim women who find polygamy troubling. Khadija is mentioned in every feminist discourse to show the independence Islam gives women (although her freedom and independence existed much before Islam). It should be empowering for a Muslim woman to know that even Khadija found polygamy troubling and then use that information to argue the point that there is nothing wrong with not wanting to share your husband. None of the Prophet Muhammad’s daughters shared their lives with a co-wife. They remained the only wives as long as they lived, but their husbands did practice polygamy after their death. I have had Muslim men argue with me that the Prophet’s women were “exclusive” – sure enough his daughters were because they were married after the coming of Islam, but Khadija stipulated monogamy in her marriage contract a decade and a half before Islam when the Prophet was neither the head of the state nor of any religious body (in fact Khadija had dismissed another husband before marrying the Prophet). Indeed the Prophet’s daughters (all of them born to Khadija) had inherited the matrilineal “female-oriented privilege” from their mother and remained blissfully in monogamous marriages.

I can understand that most Muslim women neither have the interest nor the time to become scholars of history or religion. In all honesty my scholarly activities are both an interest for me and make me buy my bread which is why I indulge in it anyway. But I was wondering what you think about what I have written here and the examples I have offered – do you think that those Muslim women who have gender activist interests would benefit if they sought ‘knowledge’ of theological histories and made ‘connections’ to become ‘creative’ in their arguments like Kecia Ali does so well?

Since my research is based solely on online interaction of Muslim feminists I have been wondering about the genres of writing Muslim feminists produce/read and the discussions on it that ensue. How much empowerment would such knowledge give Muslim feminists if someone made these connections and Muslim feminists read it and used that information in their arguments?

Also why would some women (or men) not want to make such connections?

Imaan, deen, adaab and the niqaab

I have been thinking about the difference between deen and imaan. Broadly speaking, imaan in Arabic means faith or belief while deen means practice of faith or religion. The two words are used interchangeably but recently I have wondered if they are really interchangeable. In my opinion now, they are two distinct words with two distinct meanings. Deen is the structure around and in which imaan is practiced. While imaan is spirituality, deen is its organization. The more emphasis on deen the more a religion is organized.

I was also thinking how there are many of us in the same deen with exactly the same imaan but different interpretations of what the deen requires. Hence the practice is different for each one of us. For example, all Muslims believe that there is one God and that this one God appointed Muhammad as His Messenger and Prophet. That is the basic Muslim imaan or belief. We differ in how we practice that imaan. Some believe we can’t be Muslim unless we submit completely to the will of God as interpreted by a fiqh (scholarly sect of Islam). In three out of four schools of fiqh of Sunni Islam, for instance, dogs are declared haraam but in the Maliki sect Muslims are allowed to keep dogs as pets inside their homes. None of the schools of fiqh is completely wrong or completely right – theoretically. Similarly many Muslims believe that women have to dress in a certain way in Islam. This dress code may include a headcovering or a face veil depending on the understanding and interpretations of the individual Muslim or school of thought.

To be honest it has taken me years to reach this level of tolerance for fellow Muslims! I was deadly against the niqaab and I still find it very hard to accept it … but I have learned that acceptance is a little different from tolerance. I can’t expect people to be tolerant of my views if I’m not tolerant of theirs.

I never thought that there would come a day when I would write something in defense of niqaabis. Certainly I am still not defending the niqaab but I think it is really unfair that we think that all women in niqaab are faceless fools. About six years ago when I was almost at the rabid stage of my feelings against niqaab and polygamy equally I met a woman online who was both a fan of niqaab and into a polygamous marriage. I attacked her instantly and incessantly. It took me only a few weeks to understand just how wonderful she is as a woman, mother, artist and wife. I am certain there are many, many Muslim women like her – women who are smart, intelligent and choose to veil their faces. I don’t agree with their understanding of the deen but I can tolerate their choices because we share an imaan.

Here is the connection – while imaan and deen are distinct imaan affects deen. These women who choose to veil their faces, some of them believe that niqaab is a religious requirement. I would like to ask, in the absence of a pope in Islam, who decides that I, who thinks niqaab is not a religious requirement, am right and all others are wrong?

Why do we believe that a woman who calls niqaab “unappealing, hot, isolationist fabric” used as “testaments of theology” is right and a woman who says that niqaab “frees” her is wrong? This is what I have been thinking about recently. Is it impossible for both women to be correct? After all it is a matter of interpretation of deen.

So why am I writing all this? I am writing this because although I don’t cover my head I know that it doesn’t make me smarter than this online friend of mine who covers everything but her eyes. I am also writing this because anyone who really wants equality and respect for women should know that  we can write against the niqaab without resorting to insults by calling women in niqaab faceless “domesticated pups.”

I am also writing this to inform those who don’t know that the Khaleeji burga (see a photo here) is a traditional article of clothing which is deeply respected and honoured. First, it is not made of metal. It is fabric that is dyed indigo and polished by rolling glass over it (hence the shine and metal appearance). Second, it is only worn by older women who are matriarchs of their families. If these women are seen with their “male chaperones going about the business of taking care of the women’s business” it is not necessarily because such women live in a “patriarchal world of their own myopic delusions” but mostly because these women are too proud, important and powerful to go about their own business.

As I type this I recall the story of my student’s 80 year old grandmother who walks outside her house everyday for an hour in the night and carries a pistol in her jalibiya’s pocket. She says she fired her first pistol when she was a young woman and enjoyed it so much that she always kept one with her for a day when a rival tribe should attack! She owns three taxis that form her personal income and a large house where all her children and grandchildren live with her. I have never seen Umm abdulRehman without her burga. But she is neither faceless nor a muzzled pup!

Linked to deen is the concept of adaab (good manners). Adaab are very important in Muslim-Muslim relationship. I like to extend them to non-Muslims and even those who may dislike me personally. Adaab require that we don’t use abusive words to address other people.

I don’t think that niqaab has a place in non-traditional or Western societies in the 21st century. But that is because I don’t believe that niqaab is a religious requirement. Yes, I think it is prescribed in the Quran but I see it as a social requirement dependent on the time and context of revelation (and in that context women who veiled were free and privileged and proud of the fact that they were too good to be seen by non-related men!).  I think it is still valid in societies that are tribal, traditional and patriarchal just like 7th Century Arabia was and still is to this day. However, some women believe that niqaab is a religious requirement and frankly I don’t think these women owe me an explanation. I can try to make them see my point of view but I certainly cannot ridicule them for their choices. I will, nevertheless, definitely oppose anyone who forces such women to cover their faces.

And I oppose advertising and romanticizing the niqaab even though sometimes it isn’t bad at all.

How dare you?!

Wikipedia informs a lay person that “Islamic feminists advocate women’s rights, gender equality, and social justice grounded within an Islamic framework.” That is most basic. But most Muslim feminists that I have had the good fortune to know stand up for rights of every human being regardless of race, gender or sexual orientation. That was my first surprise – acceptance of homosexuality and support of gays by many Muslim feminists.

Most if not all Muslim feminists actually do the same – they stand up in support for all just causes for all people. Now here is my problem and question – if someone wants to be Muslim and fight for the rights of women why do we deny them this right by putting them down saying “Islam and feminism are mutually exclusive”? I have had Muslims tell me they don’t need feminism! I have had Muslim women claim they know their place and feminism is not required. What is their place? And if it isn’t equal to that of a man’s then are they practicing a version of Islam that is just? Why or how could a woman not want justice and equality?

I feel that those who tell Muslim feminists that Islam and feminism are mutually exclusive are the ones who are denying Muslim women their rights. And I feel a certain hatred and fear in their stance. If you are telling a woman that she can’t be a feminist as long as she is Muslim you should be the first victim of her feminist wrath! I haven’t heard any Muslim feminist say that but if someone told me that I couldn’t be Muslim and a feminist I would question their integrity and motive in making that observation. And I would ask them how dare they think they can tell a feminist how to think.

I have always been a woman who never allowed anyone to think in her place and no thank you, you can’t tell me that Islam and feminism are mutually exclusive.

Hijab and niqaab and the ban

A few days ago I attended a small private lecture by an Arab scholar of Islam related to the quick spread of face-veil ban in the West. He offered an interesting allegory that I will return to in the end but first I want to give you some personal thoughts on veiling (hijab and niqaab).

In the summer of 2004 my sister who then lived in Saudi Arabia visited me. She wore a headscarf for the first time. All her friends wore the headscarf and it seemed natural to her to wear it too. She said it made her feel more modest.

That was the year I suddenly had to face meddling relatives who urged me to follow my younger sister’s praiseworthy footsteps and don the hijab too. I have always been rather unimpressionable and make serious decisions like this after some careful study. So that is when I began to study the role of head and face covering in Islam. However, it was not until a couple of years ago that I learned that the initial purpose of hijab (whether we believe it includes the niqaab or just a headcovering) was to differentiate between free and enslaved women[i].

Until then I didn’t know that women who were not free were forbidden from emulating the free woman (in one recorded instance beaten by the Caliph Omar Ibn Khattab because “the veil is to be on the heads of free women”). Knowing this I felt that if I veiled in modern times I’d still go back to the basic Quranic message to veil to base my decision. Thus in essence I’d be going back to a time and law when humans were divided into free and enslaved classes. Yet when we argue in favour of the veil we return to the contemporary time and use democracy and human rights to support our premise that we are all born free and should be allowed to wear what we want.

When I went back to the basic message to veil and acknowledged the reason for veiling which had socio-political reasons attached to it I concluded that in the modern world where we at least profess to truly believe that we are all born free (practice is another matter!), there is no need for me to veil and create a differentiation between the free and the enslaved. I thought if anyone wants to argue that that was the past and we don’t veil for those reasons anymore then why veil at all?

I appreciate that reasons for modern veiling are different. No Muslim woman today wears hijab or niqaab to show that she is a free woman and only because of her free status she is unapproachable. We veil to belong to a group, to appear Muslim, to make a point, to feel loved by Allah. I do put on a headscarf sometimes but it is only when I’m going to an ultra conservative area of the town where I know I will be stared at with a bare head. While I believe that veiling is prescribed in the Quran (and I believe it includes niqaab) I don’t believe that it is a religious law (like the five pillars) or that it makes us more modest. I don’t even believe that it protects us from physical attack or abuse.

The Arab scholar I referred to in the beginning is married to a Filipina. He said that whenever his wife goes out alone in the Middle East (where most housemaids are Filipinas) people confuse her as a maid or shop assistant. She is tired of this wrong assumption from people. This scholar commented that it would be easiest to establish a uniform dress code for all domestic helpers so that they are easily “recognised” as such.  This, he said, was the easiest option available in the 7th Century Arabia when affluent and free Jewish and pagan women already veiled and the sitr (marker of modesty) for enslaved women was being established. Veiling was the most obvious sign that a woman was free, affluent and powerful.

The scholar’s basic premise was that we should be very careful about the current political climate when Muslims are persecuted everywhere. He is afraid that niqaab is being used to turn people against Muslims by showing them as stubborn and intolerant people wishing not to integrate stand out and in the end it will be Muslim women who will suffer the most. On the other hand, I feel that if women who veil their faces give up veiling under pressure then it may mean that Muslims are cowardly and vulnerable. That would send a very wrong message and why should women stop veiling their faces anyway? New laws can ban women from adopting the veil (haven’t thought about how that could be managed) but it is unfair to ask women who have veiled for years to suddenly remove their face covering. I find that wrong to ask although I don’t oppose the political ban on niqaab.

In any case I was happy that a Muslim man had something different to say about the niqaab. I was also happy to note that his ideas on veiling very closely match mine. He was most respectful about the hijab and niqaab (his wife now wears an abaya so that she is “recognised” as married to an Arab) which put us all at ease. I wish he had offered solutions to some of the issues he raised.

A friend mentioned on the Facebook page that hijab may be banned next if we allow niqaab to be banned – that is a real concern. Couple others have said that it is mostly converts who are overzealous about niqaab. What to do you think about niqaab in the West? Why would you support it and if you don’t then what is your argument against veiling the face in the West?


[i] Al-Tabari – “To draw their cloaks close round them helps them in not being identified by anybody passing by so that they might know that these are not slave girls, thus harassing them”.

Ibn Kathir – “means, if they do that, it will be known that they are free, and that they are not slaves or whores.”

Al-Mahali and As-Syyoutti – “‘more proper’ that is they are closer to be ‘to be recognized’ i.e. that they are free women ‘and not annoyed’ that is, by sexually harassing them unlike the slave girls”.

Al Alousi – “‘Adna’ means closer to ‘to be recognized’ that is being set apart from the slave girls who were vulnerable to being sexually harassed”.