Like Amina Wadud's "Qur'an and Woman," this is another good book to read if you want the perspective of a Muslim woman on issues of gender within Islam. Whereas Wadud's book took a more theological, exegetical approach from the Qur'an, Ahmed examines the issue more from a socio-historical one. She begins with evidence of what life was like for women in Arabian society before Islam (Jahilia), moving into Muhammad's time, to the Golden Age of Islam and beyond.
Also like Wadud, Ahmed does not sugarcoat the often poor record of women's rights in Islamic societies. Her point is to put this record in a fairer context, since much of the discussion about this issue is often done on behalf of women by men, both Muslim and non-Muslim. One of the most contentious battlefields in this area is still going on today: The Discourse on the Veil. Should Muslim women veil? Is it inherently oppressive? These questions are making the rounds in news stories now, but they are old ones. Properly understanding them, and even knowing why they are asked at all requires some historical background.
For this particular matter Ahmed begins with where veiling even came from. Like the "72 virgins" verse, veiling is not mentioned anywhere in the Qur'an. As with the virgins again, the popular notion of what veiling means today came from interpretation and cultural practice over time, long after Muhammad's death. Veiling was actually a holdover from pre-Islamic culture. The Byzantines practiced veiling, and it usually denoted class status. Women from wealthy families wore the veil as a marker of privilege, indicating that they were not like common women who were "exposed" to the public. This practice carried over into Islamic society at first in a very limited way: only Muhammad's wives wore veils. Only later did this become more widespread.
Ahmed argues that this is true of many Islamic practices, and is not unique to Muslim societies. All cultures carry a past that influences it, whether this is acknowledged by its members or not. The transmission of values and norms can never be fully controlled, and no society ever makes a completely clean break with the one that preceded it. Think of the U.S. and British culture. Despite literally waging a war with Britain to break away from it, a huge portion of what we consider the "American" way of life is inherited from them. This includes everything from language, to legal proceedings, to classical ideas about freedom and human rights.
Getting back to Islam and gender, Ahmed states that at its beginnings "Islam selectively sanctioned customs already found among some Arabian tribal societies while prohibiting others. Of central importance to the institution it established were the preeminence given to paternity and the vesting in the male of proprietary rights to female sexuality and its issue." This produced mixed results for women at the time. Some changes were incontestably good--female infanticide was forbidden and curbed under Islamic rule, for instance. But others were definitely not. Among them were laws that put women at a disadvantage in court and legal matters, like divorce and inheritance.
However, this was already a problem before Islam: "But it is also relevant to emphasize that although Islamic laws marked a distinct decline, a Greek, a Roman, and a Christian period had already brought about major losses in women's rights and status. In effect, Islam merely continued a restrictive trend already established by the successive conquerors of Egypt and the eastern Mediterranean. In inheriting the mores that by the time of the Arab conquest had become the mores of the dominant, Christian population, Islam accepted what was deeply consonant with its own patterns of male dominance. Islam, then, did not bring radical change but a continuity and accentuation of the life-styles already in place." Women had been losing ground, so to speak, for centuries prior to Islamic dominance. Muslims did not invent this situation, then or now.
So why do so many women "allow" their "oppression" under Islam, today? Essentially, there are two versions of every religion: one that is bound up in rules and dogmas; the province of the elite, clerical order. The second is the ethical, often mystical vision that touches the layman in a personal way. It is the domain of the heart, the direct communion of one's soul or consciousness with what is considered higher or transcendent:
"The unmistakable presence of an ethical egalitarianism explains why Muslim women frequently insist, often inexplicably to non-Muslims, that Islam is not sexist. They hear and read in its sacred text, justly and legitimately, a different message from that heard by the makers and enforcers of orthodox, androcentric Islam."
This intersects with Wadud's book, which details the textual source of these ethical and egalitarian principles. I have observed this myself over the years, speaking to the religious and participating in religion myself. All spirituality begins and ends personally, regardless of how much stock you put in authority, scriptural or otherwise. It is what resonates with you at an ineffable level that draws you to, and keeps you in a religion, philosophy, way of life, etc. That resonance may or may not align with what is considered strictly orthodox, and yet this is usually not a problem for the "faithful." Ahmed notes that many Muslims, female Muslims included, believe that problems Islam faces today about gender equality will eventually be resolved because Islam is inherently just--it is people and their imperfections that bring the problems about, not the Qur'an, or Allah, etc. The same sentiment is common among Christians, who speak of the "sufficiency" of the Bible, and how whatever problems one might have from it stem from outside the text, not within it.
So how can the Islam of common practice be brought into accordance with what Ahmed calls its "ethical vision?" For feminism specifically, it must start with letting Muslim women find their own voice. For too long, they have been told what they should or shouldn't do in their quest for greater autonomy. This is part of the Discourse on the Veil, and it is vital to know its history if there is to be any constructive dialogue about it.
Ahmed also emphasizes the role racism and colonialism have played in the matter of Muslim female rights. During the late 19th and early 20th century, many Islamic societies underwent a series of humiliations and defeats at the hands of Western powers, a process that took place around the world for decades. Europeans were blunt about their supposed superiority over these defeated peoples, believing their victories to be proof of said superiority. Military conquest was often followed by cultural conquest--the denigration of native practices and customs in favor of imported Western ones. Ahmed notes that a common target was the Muslim woman:
"Even as the Victorian male establishment devised theories to contest the claims of feminism, and derided and rejected the ideas of feminism and the notions of men's oppressing women with respect to itself, it captured the language of feminism and redirected it, in the service of colonialism, toward Other men and the cultures of Other men. It was here and in the combining of the languages of colonialism and feminism that the fusion between the issues of women and culture was created. More exactly, what was created was the fusion between the issues of women, their oppression, and the cultures of Other men. The idea that Other men, men in colonized societies or societies beyond the borders of the civilized West, oppressed women was to be used, in the rhetoric of colonialism, to render morally justifiable its project of undermining or eradicating the cultures of colonized peoples."
Colonialism was not only brutally unethical, it was hypocritical. Western men derided the veil as evidence of "backwardness" in Islamic societies, but took no notice of the inequalities in their own culture. Their concern for women's rights curiously dried up once the matter of changing Islamic societies was past.
This had a huge and lasting impact on Muslim women, Ahmed argues. First, it prompted a lot of internalized shame and racism within Islamic communities. Muslim men in particular saw their culture being trampled left and right on the international stage, and basically bought the imperialist narrative that this was because that culture was inferior. Consequently, they absorbed and regurgitated this narrative, further enabling Western colonization. The most famous example of this was Qasim Amin, an Egyptian author who wrote "The Liberation of Women" in 1899. In it, he called for the unveiling of Egyptian women as part of the modernization process, so that Egypt could be counted among the "civilized nations." It was a landmark work that caused a great stir in the political and literary circles of the day, and Amin is still often referred to as the "first Arab feminist." As with many historical anecdotes though, this is a rather oversimplified and uncritical glossing of the facts. Ahmed delves into the book itself and shows that for a book purporting to "liberate" women, it does little more than shame and blame Egyptian women for all their nation's problems. By wearing the veil (which they often had no choice in doing) women were holding back Egypt. You can see how this put Muslim women between a rock and hard place.
Second, it prompted those who wished to resist Western colonization to associate unveiling, and by extension other issues pertaining to women's rights, with colonization itself: "Further, colonialism's use of feminism to promote the culture of the colonizers and undermine native culture has ever since imparted to feminism in non-Western societies the taint of having served as an instrument of colonial domination, rendering it suspect in Arab eyes and vulnerable to the charge of being an ally of colonial interests. That taint has undoubtedly hindered the feminist struggle within Muslim societies."
Ironically, by insisting on the superiority of its ways, the Western world has all but assured that some will never accept them, even if positive or needful. We see the fruits of this arrogance every day in headlines from the Middle East and elsewhere.
Ahmed qualifies her lengthy overview of colonialist influence with the following:
"My argument here is not that Islamic societies did not oppress women. They did and do; that is not in dispute. Rather, I am here pointing to the political uses of the idea that Islam oppressed women and noting that what patriarchal colonialists identified as the sources and main forms of women's oppression in Islamic societies was based on a vague and inaccurate understanding of Muslim societies."
Her point is one that many feminists in more recent years have been trying to make: feminism must be intersectional. It has to account for the many layers that come into play when combating entrenched oppressions, like sexism. Issues of class, racism, and culture, both internal and external, must be incorporated into any attempt toward solutions. Otherwise you end up with white Victorian men and women telling Arabs to just abandon their culture because its worthless. Such "help" is always doomed to fail in the long run for the very simple reason that no one likes to be told that their entire way of life is garbage. If you wouldn't take this well from someone else, don't do it to others. Secondly, it isn't even necessary. Ahmed points out that there is a history of misogyny in Western societies too:
"Nevertheless, Western feminists do not therefore call for the abandonment of the entire Western heritage and the wholesale adoption of some other culture as the only recourse for women; rather, they engage critically and constructively with that heritage in its own terms. Adopting another culture as a general remedy for a heritage of misogyny within a particular culture is not only absurd, it is impossible. The complexity of enculturation and the depth of its encoding in the human psyche are such that even individuals deliberately fleeing to another culture, mentally or physically, carry forward and recreate in their lives a considerable part of their previous enculturation. In any case, how could the substitution of one culture for another be brought about for the peoples of an entire society or several societies?"
Substituting cultures is exactly what many westerners do when they propose "solutions" for female Muslim problems. "Take off your veil" is coded language for "your culture is inferior, and until you surrender it I will never respect you," regardless of intent. Ahmed notes that the reasons for wearing hijab and Islamic clothing is varied and complex. Many women choose to wear it not just for religious reasons, but because it confers very real social and cultural benefit. It creates a sense of belonging and place that is instantly recognizable and in which women can share among themselves. It can also paradoxically free them from the awkwardness and sexually charged nature of interaction between the sexes in Western settings--women who dress this way are automatically treated differently by men, because it is assumed that they are not interested in romantic or sexual dalliance. Consequently, they can be left alone to pursue entrance into professional and academic fields. Its adoption is much more grass-roots than the Arabic feminism of the past, which was usually more top-down. "From this perspective Islamic dress can be seen as the uniform, not of reaction, but of transition; it can be seen, not as a return to traditional dress, but as the adoption of Western dress--with modifications to make it acceptable to the wearer's notions of propriety. Far from indicating that the wearers remain fixed in the world of tradition and the past, then, Islamic dress is the uniform of arrival, signaling entrance into, and determination to move forward in, modernity."
What does this mean in the practical day-to-day life of being a non-Muslim American interacting with Muslim women, who also wants to be just and kind to them? The answer is as simple as it is revolutionary--stop talking down to them. Let them make their own choices about their own lives. Malak Hifni Nasif, a 19th-century Egyptian feminist quoted by Ahmed, was once asked something similar. Her response: "Not dictating to women about whether they should veil but enabling them to obtain an education and allowing them to decide for themselves was the course she commended to men."