islamic feminism
10 minute read
Reflecting on manifestations of power guided my journey with Islamic feminism. The starkest change came when I read Edward Said’s Orientalism. Said helped me identify what I always felt: the Western world positions itself as opposite to the rest of the globe, propping itself up as superior. It is no surprise that the MENA/SWANA region has been defined in relation to the West, rather than through an authentic understanding of its people. The region is perceived as homogenous, its people as a singular entity— Muslim Arabs, savage, backwards, violent, oppressive, yet somehow immorally promiscuous. Islam is often portrayed as a sexist religion where women are treated as lesser while somehow enabling sexual deviancy. This image is perpetuated through media tropes, news coverage, and the widespread villainization of Arabs and Muslims (because, of course, if you’re Arab, you must be Muslim, and vice versa, right?). Take 15-year-old Princess Jasmine, for example. She is frequently referred to as the “sexiest” Disney princess, using seduction in an attempt to trick Jafar before ultimately being trapped like a prisoner. This conveys two messages: Arab women are promiscuous in contrast to the “pure” white woman, and Arab society seeks to subjugate and control women. Because Western media conflates Arabs and Muslims, these ideas extend to portrayals of Islam. Hijabi women in movies and television are often secondary characters waiting to be “saved” from their religion and hijab to gain some form of sexual power. In other tropes, Arab and Muslim men are depicted as lustful, predatory figures, while women are portrayed as both submissive and promiscuous.
I see the hijab as a way to challenge the objectification and sexualization of women’s bodies (though this applies to all people). The hijab encompasses modesty in dress, actions, and speech. In terms of dress, it means covering up. In actions, it involves lowering one’s gaze and exercising self-control. In speech, it is reflected in the words we use, how we speak, and our intentions. There is a contemporary double standard in how these principles apply to men and women, largely shaped by culturally imposed ideas of power and control. No one is supposed to wear tight clothing or reveal their shape, and there are guidelines on which parts of the body should remain covered. The purpose is not to restrict or imprison anyone but to counteract pervasive sexualization. Today, objectification is so normalized that people willingly commodify their bodies on the internet, stripping intimacy of its personal nature. On a lesser level, objectification occurs in performing your gendered appearance rather than experiencing it.
Before the hijab, I caught myself internalizing male-domination in terms of the male gaze. There was a level of performance to the way I acted as I was preoccupied with how people would see me. I wanted to be the cool, mysterious girl with perfect makeup and interesting outfits and amazing hair. It was for myself in part as I did feel confident when spending time with myself that way, but the preoccupation with how others perceived me made it bittersweet. The potential of someone's imagination violating me in ways I never knew was always there. Preoccupation with my physical appearance definitely didn't help. To be honest, even now that risk doesn’t completely die off when putting on the hijab (no one can have control over the disturbances in other people's minds). At least now I’m doing my part to take true control over my body on the face of those who fail to divert their gaze.
Still, an environment where gendered concepts of power and control are set aside rather is idealistic. The truth is, the dominated class would grasp at straws to justify their domination rather than look at themselves as equal to others. The melding of culture and religion reflects this issue. Women are socialized to fit an ideal: desirable to the eye, convincible and submissive, outwardly innocent yet promiscuous. The phrase “classy in the streets, freak in the sheets” encapsulates the expectation. It is an explicit example of power and control— women are brought up to be dominated, conquered, and accepting of subordination. We are treated as beings to be observed and consumed yet stay defensive over those who may hurt us due to their desires. In attempts to reclaim power, many fall into the trap of objectifying themselves. Rather than experiencing domination against their will, they become willing participants. The beauty of the hijab is that it rejects this paradigm entirely. It conceals ones image so that it cannot be subject to another persons imagination or exploitation while urging people to divert their gaze as to not overstep those boundaries.
People are forced to engage with one another outside of fleeting beauty standards or measurable levels of attractiveness. Shallow judgements are replaced by deeper interpersonal connection. Islamically, it is expected that people will falter at times when fighting desires. Humans are flawed with egos and pride they must constantly combat through jihad al-nafs. This exact internal struggle characterizes internal drives as personal and should be shielded from others to protect both them and ourselves. Recognizing that power only belongs to God prevents people from pursuing power over others in this life. It’s occult in a way since the body is tied to the spirit, mind, and heart rather than categories or “types.” The hijab, in the general sense, humanizes people (predominantly women) by shifting focus away from physical appearance toward inner qualities. It limits power and control on a sexual level by 1) defining intimacy through personal connections rather than ideas of what “ought” to be and 2) preventing quantifying people based on fleeting, superficial traits.
I believe that to understand religion, you first have to examine power. You must ask yourself what power means, how it manifests, and how it interacts with other power. Definitions of power vary from philosopher to philosopher.
Thomas Hobbes: Power is the ability, with one's present means, to obtain some future apparent good.
Socrates: Power lies in the ability to control one’s body and soul to act justly, pursuing what one believes is good.
Dahl: Power is the ability to get others to do what they otherwise would not—essentially, the power to force people’s hands.
Locke: Power is the ability to initiate change. He sees power as a relationship between active power (the ability to change something) and passive power (the ability to be changed).
Arendt: Power is the ability of people to act in concert and work together. It is actualized when individuals follow through with their word.
Nietzsche: Power takes form in domination over others and in the ability to overcome limitations in oneself, never remaining stagnant.
Looking at these definitions, I see power in two domains: power within oneself and power between individuals. On a personal level, power is the ability to control oneself and pursue good outcomes. Between people, power is the ability to work with others or to dominate them. In Islam, this manifests as jihad al-nafs (internal struggle) and jihad al-saif (external struggle). Jihad al-nafs is the struggle to overcome oneself— setting aside ego, pride, and fleeting desires. It is about pursuing what one sees as good in both the present and future, which translates into good conduct with others and themselves in the Islamic sense. This is the greater jihad because the most powerful thing a person can do is conquer themselves. The smaller jihad, jihad al-saif, resembles the power to dominate or collaborate with others. This struggle arises in times of war, where Muslims are encouraged to seek peaceful resolutions yet defend themselves if peace is unattainable.
Islamic power, framed within the greater and smaller jihad, is relevant to all people regardless of background. It reinforces the idea that all individuals are of equal value under Allah swt, though they possess different innate qualities and abilities. There is only one being above, only one to fear. If that’s the case, how could historically subordinated groups (ie women) ever fear those that attempt to dominate them (ie men)? These principles marked a shift in the MENA region pre- and post-Islam. Before Islam, women’s rights varied from tribe to tribe, but patriarchal societies were more prevelant. In rarer instances, some tribes granted women rights such as property ownership, leadership, inheritance, business ownership, and freedom in marriage, divorce, and combat. However, more commonly, women had few rights. They were sold into marriage, denied the ability to choose their husbands, and only men could initiate divorce at will. Women had little to no property rights and were often confined to reproduction, domestic work, and textiles. Female infanticide was widespread for two primary reasons: girls were either seen as dishonorable or were deemed burdensome in resource-scarce environments. Many were buried alive. Islam redefined women’s rights, restricting men’s domination over them. Women were guaranteed property ownership, protected from abuse, gained marriage rights, and even went to battle.
Equity on Earth and equality in the religious realm reaffirm the power over oneself each person has. Since each person is equal under God in Islam, everyone possesses a direct relationship with the Creator and has the free will to dictate their own lives. The only real power, the only real fear, is that toward Allah. The globalization of Western knowledge has unfortunately led some in predominantly Muslim cultures to embody the very stereotypes they seek to fight against. Friends have told me about times they were objectified by Muslim men in their homelands— men who at times falsely justified their actions through religion. The blurred line between culture and religion was something I struggled with for a long time. How could a religion centered on love, peace, justice, and equity be used to justify harm? The answer is power. Power to dominate, power to convince, power to obtain something in the present or future, power to assert your wills on other people. This reality is evident when you’re an Arab in America, witnessing how power is violently wielded against your people. It is much more insidious when it exists within your own community.
