Frankly, I’m loath to post on this tired topic and continue the never-ending discussion on the hijab. But, I wanted to begin recording here conversations that I’ve engaged in elsewhere (and not just on this subject), as I recently realized that in the years since I’ve become a much more active facebooker than a blogger, it’s been easy to just loose sight of things I say/write pretty much all over the place. And that’s probably not a good thing; I suppose keeping track of thoughts is the least a thinker should do, regardless of how crappy or brilliant those are.
In any case. A few weeks ago, one of my best friends from college published this excellent piece at altmuslimah on rape and women’s clothing, dismantling the oft-parroted myth (we’ve all heard it, whether from upset imams or wise aunties/uncles) that rape and sexual assault have something to do with how women dress: a myth that is, alas, not restricted to our community alone, but is really a textbook example of blaming-the-victim. It’s great that people like Altaf (and others!) are addressing this loud and clear, and judging by the number of Facebook shares/likes in my networks alone, her piece at altmuslimah has been immensely influential among the online reading public.
On that note, when posting a link to the article, a friend of mine raised the following question:
So here’s a thought: The Muslim reason for a woman covering herself is so that she can be modest and avert male desire (according to the Quran). If a full-body/face covering does NOT save a woman from rape, much less averting male desire….then what is the point of wearing a hijab/head scarf from Islam’s perspective?
This may be in some sense the very essence of “the hijab problem” that continues to confuse all kinds of people, especially Westerners but also Muslims themselves. But it’s also a legitimate question, one that is however not so easy to answer. Let me just reiterate, with a few slight modifications, the couple of comments I wrote then in response:
While that, i.e. modesty, has indeed become the conventional rationale, it is also one that is arguably somewhat inaccurate (note though that rape and desire are NOT on a continuum–precisely the point of Altaf’s article). But this inaccuracy has more to do with the history of gender and the body (i.e. the shifting social configurations of male and female between the pre-modern to the modern), than with the Qur’an per se. One key to solve this problem is to examine why in classical Islamic law, certain “women” were forbidden to veil while others were required to do so. There’s a paper that pursues precisely this analysis and offers I think the best explanation so far in terms of social and legal history–I’m referring to this article.
Note however that especially from an anthropological point of view, it is sort of meaningless to ask what Islam says about this or that (which is like the perennial question these days), because “Islam” is not an actual entity that exists in reality. Rather it is the texts or people that speak.
I realize that I ignored above my own appeal to anthropology, because from that perspective, it shouldn’t really even matter what the text/law says but rather the voices of people themselves. Perhaps there are as many “reasons” to veil as there are women who do, even though I think a notion of piety is important and undercuts all of them. So the question is as complex as if we were to ask, why do we dress?
But to get back to the history (after all, my thing), basically it seems that in the classical Islamic legal conception, the point of veiling was not modesty in the sense of protection from male desire per se (even though jusrists did actually make this argument), but rather modesty in the sense of propriety and guarding social reputation, etc and to distinguish between respectable–what in Bengali we would call bhodro–women from “common” ones. Of course, this isn’t unique to Arab/Muslim history at all, as there’s evidence for veiling being practiced in most ancient Near Eastern traditions (including Judaism and Early Christianity) as well as as the Eastern Roman Empire i.e. the Byzantines. So for example, almost no traditional icon of the Virgin Mary shows her without a headscarf.
Now, the reason I was referring to gender history: the basic principle is that ideas about, or even who counts as, male or female are not the same in every time/place. Modernity erased a lot of social hierarchies that used to be there, such as noble/common, free/slave, etc. This has specific implications for the veil in Islamic law, but I don’t really need to get into that right now :)
That’s as far as I got then, but it’s probably important to clarify what specific legal implications I’m alluding to above: basically, what to do about the fact that pre-modern jurists considered the `awra (“shame zone,” or “private parts”) of legally un-free women to be different from and more limited than that of free women, and indeed the same as that of men, i.e. from the navel to the knee! This precisely is the point of departure for the academic paper I cite above; but also, this strongly suggests that what we mean when we say “women” is not necessarily the same as what Muslims back in the day would have meant, hence my reference above to a sort of constructionist principle of gender history. Of course, like it or not, what we’re really doing here is to open a can of worms that include such immensely complex problems as what us full-time nerds call “the history of the body,” as well as the very basic analytic categories of “sex,” “gender,” etc.
In her post “Menstruation as power: A history,” my friend Suroor offered a good overview of cultural perceptions about menstruation and menstruating women, starting all the way back from ancient societies. It’s an interesting piece, all the more so because it reminds me that Suroor and I are so alike as historically-oriented thinkers. I thought I’d make a small, if belated, contribution to the discussion by delving a bit into the Islamic traditions concerning menstruation, especially since the past school year I happened to spend some time studying Islamic law, including the rather abundant juristic debates on ḥayḍ (menstruation). This would be a good opportunity to revisit my notes and review the stuff, and also share a bit with interested readers. In this post, I’ll try to look at how Muslims thought of menstruation generally, and in a subsequent entry I’ll deal with the question of prayer and access to mosque (which was the subject of Organica‘s awesome photolog). It seems to me that all discussions of menstruation keep circling back to notions of cleanliness and purity, so I’d like to draw attention to the broader issue of ritual purity in Islam, especially since this seems to be a source of common confusion and misunderstanding. For example, I remember someone telling me once that when he was traveling in India, he wouldn’t eat until he found a “Muslim restaurant,” because you know, the Hindu ones are “na-pak” or impure! You’ll see below why, at least from a legal/fiqh perspective, he was simply wrong. (more…)
I sometimes wonder if it might be a good idea to institute a rating system for khutbahs, basically as a guidance for those preparing their sermons. I can’t remember the last time I felt so awkward at jum’a that I stopped looking up at the khateeb just to avoid eye contact. Actually, I do sort of remember, but I was sorry to have to do this again today. Honestly, the last thing I ever want to hear in a khutbah is how people should remove hair from the armpits and “shave the pubic area.” And this applies to both men and women, it was promptly clarified. (more…)
The NY Times had an interesting article about two Muslim artists based in New York: Asma Ahmed Shikoh and Negar Ahkami. You can see more of their work on their respective websites. I hope to be able to check out the exhibition on my next trip to the City.
I was really struck by Ahkami’s remarkably unique stylistic achievements. “The Fall” is a fascinating example. Among Shikoh’s works, I thought “Self-Portraits 1, 2 & 3” (or, the Statue of Liberty as a desi bride, a pregnant woman, and a mother with child) are quite interesting. Her “Beehive” is also an interesting project that involved collecting nearly a 100 actual hijabs mailed to her by women who wore them. As I examined a close-up photo of the ‘cells,’ I was thinking the piece could raise interesting questions about the currency of the headscarf as a ‘fetish’ in contemporary material culture.
Filed under: Islamica
In the comments section of a recent post by Yasir Qadhi at Muslim Matters, there’s a brief debate about “Asra Nomani, Irshad Manji etc.” and the “reason for why they behave the way they do.” One commenter said: “I wonder if it doesn’t simply have to do with arrogance, deliberate ignorance, and a liking for the spotlight.” This is, no doubt, a familiar argument (and I have myself alluded to the spotlight effect in a previous post on Irshad Manji here). But what struck me now is the realization that we never quite ask the same question about, say, the Sheikh. What are the reasons for why he behaves the way he does? In fact, to the extent that I know (of) them, I am more interested in the similarities between the three above-mentioned figures, whose respective worldviews reflect the decisive influence of their subjective personal experiences. In some ways, I am echoing here Mona Eltahawy’s musings on the remarkable fact that even with respect to their immense differences, both she and the Sheikh are the way they are because of their Saudi-influenced background. My point is not to suggest that regardless of their actual stances (‘liberal,’ ‘conservative,’ etc), the concerns of all of these people must therefore be illegitimate, but rather that a person(ality) is far too complex to merely explain away using arrogance or desire for fame. In other words, there’s got to be a better way to critique somebody than just arguing that s/he is not sincere.
Filed under: Islamica
The account on masudblog.com (thanks thabet for link) of an exchange on Facebook about the meaning of the hadith advising Muslims against emulating the Other reminded me of a number of issues I have been thinking of lately. Mas’ud’s questions, “does a single Islamic Culture exist?”, relates immediately to the heart of some of my concerns. In many ways, it shouldn’t be surprising that the elusive myth of an Islamic Culture continues to be evoked again and again (I couldn’t possibly recount how many times I have had this discussion with various friends and family). The thing is, Islam as (a) religion must necessitate this question (of whether there is an Islamic Culture): because it is precisely in the nature of religion to straddle the tension between the particular and the universal. I hope to think and write more about this tension, as part of an effort to understand what it is about a religion that makes it a religion–or really, what is it about a human person that makes him/her human.
But for now, let’s also think about some of the unquestioned elements of this debate. For instance, what do we really mean by “culture”? I’m not sure if we can so easily take for granted the set of things we refer to using this highly ambiguous term. The other thing that intrigues me is the distinction between culture and religion. Mas’ud suggests that “Indo-Pak mosques have borrowed from culturally ‘Hindu’ (as opposed to religiously Hindu) art and craft.” While I understand the basic import of this claim, I think we also can, and perhaps should, problematize the fine line between the cultural and the religious (And, to probe this further, we must wonder if and how this distinction was non-existent and meaningless in Indian society before the arrival of the Muslims or the Europeans). Of course, it is precisely these ambiguities that give rise to the continuing debates between Muslims themselves, such that one considers haram what someone else might consider halal. The recent controversy in Malaysia regarding yoga is an instance of such debate.
Filed under: Islamica
I was just flipping through an issue of Comparative Islamic Studies in the library, and happened to come across an article with the following interesting anecdote, with analysis:
In a record of a real time debate on the Muslim Ummah, a contributor who styles herself as “HotHijabi,” a humorous hybrid constructed of Western and Muslim feminist identities, was confronted by a male contributor who thought her presence in the chatroom was inappropriate saying, “You shouldn’t be here without a mehram anyway. Please stop spreading fitna and leave.” It is interesting how he attempted even to segregate cyberspace, a realm of disembodiment. HotHijabi’s response, as a twice-veiled sister, veiled both by hijab and cyber-anonymity, was to respond in SMS message style text-speak with, “Who the hell du yu think you are? This is the 20th century yeh, women have been LIBerAted. I can do wot I want.” The juxtaposition of the upper and lower case letters in “liberated” represent the “doing what you like” kind of liberation to which one of my informants objected. It is nonsymmetrical, nonsubmissive and decidedly “Western” in its origins. Interestingly the opponent is silenced. HotHijabi, undaunted, goes on to show herself a committed Muslim by suggesting that going on Hajj is about everyone being there for the same reasons and “Worshipping the same Allah and we even wear the same clothes to symbolise that…It’s about being connected and united. That’s what gives us our strength.” Frequently disparate ideologies do not meet so easily in one person and perhaps the hope for building bridges is within the very personhood of the young who can unselfconsciously adopt both ways of being. [Myfanwy Franks, "Islamic Feminist Strategies in a Liberal Democracy: How Feminist are they?" in Comparative Islamic Studies 1.2 (2005): 215-6]
The online conversation reported by the author took place on a chatroom of the British young Muslims’ website MuslimYouth.net. An abstract of the article itself is available online, here.
I received a forward this morning with an unfortunate news that won’t bear too well with Muslims:
Two Muslim women at Barack Obama’s rally in Detroit on Monday were barred from sitting behind the podium by campaign volunteers seeking to prevent the women’s headscarves from appearing in photographs or on television with the candidate.The campaign has apologized to the women, both Obama supporters who said they felt betrayed by their treatment at the rally. ["Muslims barred from picture at Obama event," Politico, 6/18/08]
In the last few hours, the major news media have also begun to pick up the story. While I wasn’t too surprised to read about this (it’s politics, after all), I was nevertheless quite disturbed. I have spent a lot of time defending Obama’s necessary pragmatism in debates with Muslim friends and family members who felt that the Senator wasn’t taking the right stance against the “secret Muslim” smear (which would be to both clarify that he is not Muslim and to assert that there’s nothing wrong with being one). But now it seems that the Obama campaign’s obviously uneasy relationship with Islam has gone a bit haywire. While most Muslims do support Obama (heck, even my mom has been cheering for him from the other side of the world!), his campaign clearly doesn’t want to be associated with us. It’s understandable, but that doesn’t make it right.
That brings us to the question of images. Ben Smith, who broke the news at Politico, states that “for Obama, the old-fashioned image-making contrasts with his promise to transcend identity politics and to embrace all elements of America.” I actually don’t think that this concern for appearance reveals anything hypocritical about Obama’s campaign. If anything, Obama is all about images. Non-identity is still an identity: even if Obama transcends the politics of images, he is still playing with an image of non-images. I have believed in Obama the Prophet, but I’m careful not to be so delusional about Hope and Change.
Gary Younge, one of my favorite columnists, wrote this week about some of this tension:
There are symbols, and there is substance–the way things look, and the way things are. But in between there is the way things might be: a sense of possibility that image might precede content or even provide space for it to emerge. A leap of faith. Some wishful thinking. Such is the tension in the American left’s response to Obama’s candidacy. There are some–let’s call them dreamers–who believe his nomination marks a paradigm shift in progressive politics in this country. And there are others–let’s call them materialists–who dismiss the excitement surrounding his nomination as little more than an emotional distraction from what really matters: war, foreclosures, civil liberties, the Middle East, global warming. ["Obama and the Power of Symbols," The Nation, 6/12/08]
The question is: where do Muslims stand? Perhaps somewhere in between, I suggest.
A friend shared this BBC news clip reporting on a hijab fashion contest being sponsored by Danmarks Radio, the Danish national broadcaster. The purpose, they state, is to show “cool Muslim women who often make up a very fashion-conscious and style-confident part of the Danish street scene.” Browsing through the pictures on the official website, one cannot help but note the remarkable diversity of the headscarf donning contestants, which in itself shatters the monolithic image of the Muslim woman. The usually unseen but imagined object of the political discourse on hijab has been rendered visible. Interestingly, whereas beauty contests are generally regarded by many feminists as unhealthy practices that objectify women, it almost becomes in this case the very means of affirming these women’s individuality. Which reminds us, therefore, that meaning is always relative.
But of course, the business is more complicated than that. This is still a process of “representation”–which is always a problématique, as the French would say. Perhaps the real question is: who has the power to represent? It isn’t surprising then that the religious establishment doesn’t appear too happy. The BBC report interviews a Danish Muslim scholar who asks, “would you ever see nuns in a beauty or fashon contest?” Local community leaders have asked Muslim women to preserve their modesty and not to participate in the contest. But Khadijah, a young woman also interviewed by the BBC report, wants to reclaim her agency and asserts: “it’s about time that people and the media talk to us and not just about us all the time.”
One thing is clear: Danmarks Radio has gotten exactly what it wanted, which was to garner attention as well as to spur debate on an issue; or, to put it another way, to use an already contentious issue to draw website traffic. They deserve props, however, for depicting the hijab as a reality on the streets of Denmark, thereby highlighting its acceptability (or so I think). The significance of this should be evident, at a time when groups are calling for a ban on the hijab altogether. This is in the wake of a recent government decision to ban judges from wearing headscarves or similar religious/political symbols. The pointlessness of the ban isn’t lost on some, who’ve noted that there is currently no one in the Danish courts who would be affected by the ban. Then why all the fuss?
Court President Torben Goldin is reported as saying that “the ban merely had good ‘entertainment value’.” One wonders if the Danish government has nothing better to work on. Meanwhile, the DPP (Danish People’s Party) continues it’s anti-Muslim campaign, which earlier included mass-producing a poster with this ridiculous image of a judge in a burka (and, err, with what looks like a man’s hands!).
Perhaps the much-hyped decadence of the West is not in sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll. It is in the fact that boredom has driven some of them to a politics of absurdity.
I am not familiar with the works of Spinoza, but I have come across quite a few people who really like him. One of my college professors identified him as being influenced by medieval Islamic philosophers, at least by way of Maimonides. Of course, given my deep interest in the Sephardim, I have been particularly curious of Spinoza’s background: an Iberian Jewish family exiled in Amsterdam. Oddly enough, in an interview published in last fall’s ISIM Review, Abdolkarim Soroush admitted to an affinity with Spinoza:
I have a personal relationship with Spinoza; I feel a certain similarity in my fate with that of Spinoza: because of some of his unorthodox views, he was excommunicated, and had to leave his place of birth in Amsterdam. Of course, Spinoza’s was not a biblical God; I think it is very unfair, however, to call Spinoza an atheist. Some of his ideas are very relevant to the modern Muslim world: reconciling the religious law with democracy and providing a modern understanding of the state is much like what Spinoza has been doing. What makes Spinoza modern is that he historicizes all prophethood; but his ideas of prophethood are inspired in part by al-Farabi and Moses Maimonides.
The full interview is available online (PDF file).
