by Omaima Abou-Bakr
A recent trend among scholars of Middle Eastern and women’s studies is the preoccupation with what has been termed as the new phenomenon of ‘Islamic feminism’ and/or Muslim feminists. Attempts are being currently made to define it and delineate its parameters, and some are hailing it as the new astonishing wave of feminism in Muslim societies. So far the discussion has aroused more questions and misgivings than it has given way to a clearer picture of the situation.
PROBLEMS & QUERIES
1) Is the denomination part of a process of natural self-definition by Muslim women themselves today engaged in activities or research on women’s rights as Islamically defined and justified, or is it a term created and propagated by Western or non-Muslim scholars to categorize, label, and name Muslim women? There is the unavoidable suspicion that this constitutes hegemonic naming of the ‘other,’ contributing further to the problematic pose of expert versus object of study. Feelings of unease have arisen among Muslim women themselves, scholars and professionals, towards this ‘new’ category.
In a recent telepress conference at AUC (March 31, 2001) with Duke University, in which Hoda El-Sadda and myself participated in the panel discussing Miriam Cooke’s Women Claim Islam: Creating Islamic Feminism through Literature (N.Y.: Routledge, 2001), Hoda expressed reservation over the “dynamics of naming” and coining or formulating concepts and terms: “To me, the term [Islamic feminism] says a lot about the observer, the person who coins, than about the object itself.” In other words, how was the concept produced and how has it served the producers? The assumption is that concepts have a history, and a recognition of hegemonic histories is needed. She also questioned the usefulness of continually “foregrounding the Islamic spirit or influence as the regularly primary force in Middle Eastern societies, hence disregarding the complexities of social/political and economic transformations.” In other words, the panel expressed concern over the possible divisive nature of this categorization, implying that if one is not directly dealing with Islamic teachings, Qur’anic verses, and Hadith, then she is outside the circle of Islamic/Muslim feminists. Yet, most contemporary Arab or Middle Eastern activists/feminists today are arguing for women’s rights, social equality, and gender balance under the supposition of a culture-specific struggle – not really opposing themselves to Islamic doctrine – rather focusing on implementation and activation of human rights claimed to be granted by Islam. Furthermore, since the latter part of the 19th century and beginning of the 20th, a considerable group of Arab and Muslim women writers, like A’isha Taymuriya, Zeinab Fawwaz, Nazira Zein al-Din, Malak Hifni Nasef, or even Qadriya Husayn, had framed their feminist consciousness and concerns within the Islamic value system. Very often each one of them explicitly measured contemporary social and cultural norms up against authentic Islamic moral standards and ideals. Even Hoda Sha’rawi, some insist, advocated women’s rights within a taken-for-granted Islamic frame of reference.
My question for Cooke was: Would we now use ‘Islamic feminists’ to describe them, or would that be an anachronism, thus reserving this definition to a specific time period – namely post modern times and hence post Western schools of feminism and their full evolution and development? In Women Claim Islam Cooke argues that this is a strictly postmodern trend and especially of the late 1990s as a part but also a later development of rising Islamism, as well as a reaction against globalized modernity. Does this answer the question why we should only now use the term and not before?
2. If it is naming or self-naming that is being discussed, are there actually Muslim women today who clearly identify themselves as Islamic feminists? One Muslim woman activist and professional expressed her rejection of and opposition to the implication in this term that feminism is the norm and overarching world vision or ideology, with Islam, this great religion, attached as only a subsidiary or one version of it. This view also assumes that Islam is in fact humanistic and just, not in need of any Western school of feminism to teach it about women, and so the term ‘feminism’ attached to it is both redundant and offensive. Others (including myself) may want to look at it differently: the terms ‘Islamic’ or ‘Muslim’ attached to ‘feminist’ – as well as to gender-sensitive – are a necessary qualification in our present time, to clarify that the concern over women’s conditions, rights, and roles is in the context of our cultures and their social, historical, and religious backgrounds. Hence, it qualifies our feminist agenda, drawing lines of demarcation among trends and orientations, not insulting the religion of Islam. Recent Muslim women researchers in this field are either openly using the category ‘Islamic feminism’ to describe their endeavor (“introducing a feminism which is ‘Islamic’ in its form and content,” see Mai Yamani (ed.). Feminism and Islam: Legal and Literary Perspectives. London: Ithaca Press, 1996), or evading the term ‘feminist’ altogether and opting for ‘Muslim scholar-activists’ (see Gisela Webb (ed.), Windows of Faith: Muslim Women Scholar-Activists in North America. N.Y. : Syracuse University Press, 2000.) This latter collection of articles is an excellent example of intelligent, up-to-date Islamic and feminist scholarship by Muslim women themselves, who have used this self-definition that is decidedly not Western (or hegemonic) and thus dodges any accusation of influence by Western secular feminism. Ironically, instead of spending time over the debate on the validity or legitimacy of using names and terminology, they actually put the concept into practice. In my opinion, whatever these writers want to call themselves, their well-crafted and astute essays on the implementation and utilization of women’s Islamic rights, as well as their views on gender relations in the light of Islamic principles, reveal in fact both a feminist and a religious consciousness in action.
3) What is the role of polarization? Both Rita Gross (Feminism and Religion, Boston: Beacon Press, 1996) and Miriam Cooke present the phenomenon of committed and practicing Muslim women who demonstrate a concern for rights and equality as a surprising new turn in the history of the religion and quite unexpected. In fact, it was Gross who first referred to the concept of Islamic feminism in passing in her chapter on feminism’s impact on religious studies worldwide. (See also Kari Borreson and Kari Vogt (eds). Women’s Studies of the Christian and Islamic Traditions. Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers, 1993). Most studies such as these share the common view implied by Cooke when she presents Islam and feminism as indeed mutually exclusive. Despite her attempts to disagree with Haideh Moghissi’s (Feminism and Islamic Fundamentalism: The Limits of Postmodern Analysis, London: Zed, 1999) view of their definite incompatibility, she still describes the phenomenon not just as a difficult attempt to reconcile two opposing allegiances, but rather achieving victory of one perspective over the other – specifically to champion feminism as a basically secular ideology over and above Islam, a religious faith. In other words, a ‘faith position’ and a commitment to ‘women’s rights’ are polarized and set in bitter conflict. That’s why Cooke’s basic definition of Islamic feminism is Muslim women offering a “critique of Islamic history or hermeneutics,” with an accentuation on a high-pitched dissatisfaction – if not bitterness – at the religion. This explains her choice of someone like Nawal al-Sa’dawi’s literary output for analysis, despite her obvious attitude of bitterness and aggressiveness directed at the religious tradition.
Another area of polarization occurred in a recent talk delivered by Margot Badran at Georgetown University on the subject (“Exploring Islamic Feminism,” November 30, 2000). Although I had access only to a summary, a recurrent and accentuated polarity seems to emerge between Islamic and secular feminism as lobbying for completely different demands. In my opinion, it would not serve the general cause of Arab/Muslim/Middle Eastern women to highlight the fact that two such orientations are ideologically worlds apart and are to work separately in separate spheres. In agreement with the view of Mervat Hatem expressed in a private conversation, I would like to be able to say that Islamic feminists engaged in reforming religious discourses and practices concerning women are doing a greatly needed service to the rest of activists and feminists, complementing their work in development, civil rights, law reforms, reproductive health, circumcision, violence, discrimination, etc.
4) Is dismissal an issue? In a recent lecture delivered at the American University in Cairo (April 10, 2001), Deniz Kandiyoti was directly asked about Islamic feminism and she quickly dismissed it as an “Arab-centered debate,” too “theoretical and textual,” as opposed to “living Islam.” She also opined that it is better to leave such a debate on the Qur’an and Hadith to religious scholars. I see this as another problematic polarization between a so-called ‘textual’ Islam and a ‘living’ Islam. “Islam is what we [i.e. Muslims] do,” as Kandiyoti explains. Yet, what people do, they do as a result of deeply-ingrained customs/practices – wrongly or rightly based on what’s perceived as Islamically ordained. For such unjust practices to be righted, ‘textual’ points of reference have to be addressed. Moreover, leaving the issue entirely to unsympathetic religious specialists is exactly the bone of contention here. Today’s Muslim women scholars are making themselves the specialists now in order to balance a centuries-long tradition of male interpreters and scholars who had nothing to lose by emphasizing discriminating differences and glossing over egalitarian principles, or neglecting to extend these to wives, daughters, sisters, and women colleagues in the work place.
5) Another important question is whether this is an authentic identity or a strategy? Both Cooke and Badran view Islamic feminism as a speaking position determined by a given context, situation, and purpose of argument, and thus capable of changing alliances easily. Cooke analyzes Mernissi and Sa’dawi in this vein, as changing their perspectives depending on whom they are arguing against and what “rhetorical goal” they are advancing at the time (Cooke 74). This may explain why Cooke strangely considers Nawal al-Sa’dawi, who hastily makes use of a couple of Qur’anic verses or a hadith sometimes just to win an argument, as an Islamic feminist, in spite of Sa’dawi’s well-known aversion to all monotheistic religions. While argumentation is the core of successful polemics claimed by Muslim women scholars/activists/ feminists today, one would not exaggerate the view that this methodology is a mere tactic or strategic weapon. This undermines the very premise of this field of study undertaken by women who identify themselves as genuinely committed to Islam – emotionally, culturally, and doctrinally; they view themselves as equal believers and thus take their relationship to Islam very seriously. Any self-respecting Muslim woman views this as a lasting principled position.
6) Finally, what is the link between Islamic feminism and hijab? Can a Muslim woman with a head cover be a feminist? The ever-curious issue of head cover/hijab seems to be the running motif and decisive factor in Elizabeth Fernea’s In Search of Islamic Feminism (N.Y.: Double Day, 1998). In fact, the preoccupation with details of Egyptian Muslim women’s dress seems to turn into an obsession as pointed out by Rania Abdel Rahman (“The Veil that Conceals yet Reveals,” Letters from Memory, 1, June, 1998, 7-9) in her review of Fernea’s book. The very negative presentation of “veils so heavy . . . they couldn’t even see to walk,” and the writer’s pronounced impatience and irritability at these clothes (“but why put that dress on at all?”) imply the contradiction between that dress and aspects of the “feminist dream,” which seems to be an inherently Western dream (Abdel Rahman 9). As Rania also notices, Fernea sees a “world of difference” between the spotted black veil of a Western hat and the veils of Middle Eastern women. Fernea cannot get beyond that different look of hair-covered women. Is this kind of dress, culturally accepted by Muslim societies everywhere, really inimical to the radical spirit of feminism? Can feminist consciousness only exist in Middle Eastern women who look ‘modern’ and with up-to-date Western stylish clothes?
DEFINITIONS & GENERAL FEATURES
1) Islamic feminist research is undertaken by Muslim women scholars and activists who are not just “critiquing [i.e. attacking or deconstructing] Islamic history and hermeneutics,” but are also providing alternatives and seeking solutions inspired by Islamic values. This is done through consciously producing an Islamic discourse that problematizes and addresses gender-justice. In other words, Islamic feminism figures more clearly on the level of knowledge production and discourse, and is research-oriented. Rather than emphasizing negativism towards the religion or simply using it as a temporary rhetorical position, Muslim feminists deal with the Islamic perspective as an encompassing overarching worldview of divine justice, compassion, egalitarianism and liberation from slavery or submission to any being other than God. Another very important Islamic principle that is insisted upon and utilized by Muslim women activists for their advantage is a Muslim woman’s right to a direct relationship with Gad with no human mediators. (See Amani Saleh, “Feminist Epistemology: Towards an Islamic Perspective,” Women and Civilization Newsletter, 1, Spring 2000, 7-11, as well as Aziza Hibri in Windows of Faith, both attempting to formulate a distinctively Islamic worldview that embraces their gender-awareness). Azza Karam (Women, Islamists and the State: Contemporary Feminisms in Egypt. London: Macmillan Press, 1998) in her study of women Islamists and feminisms in Egypt has defined “Muslim Feminism” as women activists using Islamic sources like the Qur’an and the Sunna “to show that the discourse of equality between men and women is valid, within Islam,” since a “feminism that does not justify itself within Islam is bound to be rejected by the rest of society, and is therefore self-defeating” (11). Muslim women use the argument that defending women’s rights is part of defending Islam itself against corruption of its own ideals, hence placing feminist demands within the wider context of a religious discussion or reform and countering criticisms of narrow ‘womanist’ bias, (an accusation often directed at all feminists by unsympathetic male clergy.)
2) Islamic feminist discourse is a Qur’an-centered one that distances itself from the entangled web of fiqh schools as well as existing socio-cultural realities of Muslim societies and their customs and traditions. The main concern is understanding the pure and essential message of Islam and its spirit. This can also be found in the model of the Prophet (PBUH) himself in his very treatment and compassion to his wives, daughters, and women companions, a treatment than cannot be too emphasized. Attention is being paid to instances in early Muslim history and community when women are reported to be extremely outspoken and to reveal what can be described as a feminist/oppositional consciousness (see Omaima Abou Bakr, “Reflections of a Muslim Woman on Gender,” on the Islam 21 Project web site at
http://www.islam21.net/pages/keyissues/key2-8.htm, and Mohja Kashef in Windows of Faith).
3) A Qur’an-centered discourse undoubtedly involves re-interpretations of several controversial verses to elicit meanings of equality and gender justice in order to counter the traditional interpretations that highlighted preference and superiority of men over women. It is a matter of emphasis: whereas traditional interpretations of gender verses stressed complementarity of different social roles to justify an imbalanced relationship, Muslim feminists insist on reading these verses only in the light of the overarching, more determining verses of egalitarianism and equal public participation of believers, both men and women. Whereas the traditional perspective will never deny Islamic basic and spiritual equality between men and women, the principle will remain isolated in that sphere never extending to actual practice and application of that egalitarian spirit. Muslim women readers of the Qur’an today are addressing this matter of extending and applying the egalitarian verses to the spheres of family and society. Yamani describes the basic task of organized feminist movements in Muslim societies as “the amelioration of the status of women primarily by the utilization of Islamic rights” (1996, 2). (See also my upcoming study on the history of Qur’anic exegetical discourse of gender verses).
4) Another characteristic of women’s Islamic feminist discourse is what I call ‘turning the tables’ on Muslim men. For the longest time, Muslim women have been subjected to male prescriptive discourses on Islamic rights and wrongs. I think that educated, knowledgeable, and well-equipped Muslim women researchers and scholars today have the tools to take men in Muslim societies to task on whether they adhere closely to Islamic principles, God’s injunctions, and the Prophet’s orders concerning women and the family. Are they performing their truly Islamic roles in the family, as husbands and fathers and brothers and sons? How should masculinity be understood within an Islamic frame of reference? How were masculinity and male roles understood by interpreters of the Qur’an, especially the numerous verses that clearly address only men in admonishment, threats, and warnings against abuse of power over women? It is high time to begin seriously exploring notions of masculinity in religious writings and place men in the center or as targets of prescriptive discourses . (See Omaima Abou-Bakr, “Men in the Exegetical Discourse of Medieval and Modern Interpreters,” Presentation at the Qasim Ameen Conference in Cairo, October 1999.) An example of this type of subversion is a 1992 seminar held in Cairo at the International Institute of Islamic Thought where Heba Ra’uf, a writer, political scientist, and activist, is reported as criticizing men in Muslim societies for not daring to face up to current political authorities, while writing endlessly on women’s fitna and seductive dangers as the only corruption to fight against. (Quoted in Lene Kofoed Rasmussen, “Muslim Woman and Intellectual in Twentieth Century Egyptian Public Debate,” The Middle East in a Globalized World, (eds.) Utvik & Vikor, 2000). The point is made that men use women in their discourses as scapegoats for their failures in the political public arena.
Omaima Abou Bakr is associate professor in the Department of English at Cairo University, Egypt.
http://www.iiav.nl/ezines/web/ifrwh/1998-2002/historians/amews%20abou-bakr.htm
