All the News That’s Fit to Print? The Gulf Times Forgets the Definition of ‘News’

Qatar’s Gulf Times published three different articles in its February 15, 2008 “Islam” section that have an unsettling theme: telling women how to act.

The first article, by Fatima Barakatullah, is titled “Reviving Our Sense of Gheerah,” and has run in several other outlets that are specific to conservative Islamic interpretations.

For any readers unfamiliar with the word “gheerah,” Barakatullah defines it as “protectiveness or jealousy.” According to her, it’s “a good type of jealousy, like when a man feels jealous or protective over his wife or sisters and other-womenfolk and doesn’t like other men to look at them. It is a natural inbuilt feeling Allah has given men and women.”

Barakatullah ostensibly admonishes both Muslim men and women for “los[ing] their sense of shame,” blaming feminism for the suppression of “natural emotions” in men and women:

“We live in societies in which most men and women have lost their sense of modesty, women are obsessed with their appearances and wear clothes to be seen by others and to attract the attention of other men even if they are married! … Men are not even embarrassed when their wives are dressed up and attract the attention of other men…”

But the rest of the article berates only women for being shameless if they don’t do what their “menfolk” tell them to: “If your husband asks you not to wear a certain colour of khimaar [scarf] because it brings out the beauty of your eyes, or if he wants you to cover your face – by Allah, be thankful!”

The second article, titled “Hijaab and the real beauty” and written by Aboo ‘Abdul-Fattaah Salaah bin Bernard Brooks, is more of the same. He presents this article as “a reminder of the excellence of the women who wear hijaab” because “A sister who does not truly know the superiority of hijaab will always remain envious of disbelieving women. Why? Because they observe these misguided disbelievers attempting to look beautiful for all to see. Hence, the Muslim woman then compares herself to that woman which causes her to feel ashamed of her own hijaab.”

The author does not describe what he means by “disbelieving women,” so we’re left to guess whether he means non-Muslims, Muslim women who don’t wear hejab, or both. His ambiguity doesn’t stop him from throwing around judgments and condemnations: “…displaying oneself is indeed unlawful. Further, it is a quality of the most evil of women! Therefore, do not be envious of the disbelieving women. They only have this life to enjoy, while the believing women will have Paradise.”

The third article, by ‘Ifrat Azad, discusses the haraam-ness of women’s aspirations to beauty. In “In search of the body beautiful,” Azad beings with “There seems no limit nowadays to the extent that women (and men) are prepared to go to for that ‘perfect look.’” This is the only instance in which the author includes men. The entire rest of the article is aimed at women’s beauty practices (none of which Ms. Azad partakes in, I’m sure) such as plastic surgery and hair removal.

When Ms. Azad rages against the beauty industry, I rage with her. I completely agree with her statement that

“Beauty today is big business. Beauty contests are very profitable …The cosmetics market is a multi-billion dollar industry; the demand for cosmetic surgery is growing at a tremendous rate. All three industries promote the same notions of beauty that women everywhere are expected to meet: mainly a white, European, “Barbie-doll” like standard. The pressures on women to conform to these standards are enormous and few are able to withstand them.”

But in her attempt to comfort her sisters, Ms. Azad merely criticizes them for doing things that are considered “un-Islamic” and yet she is surprised that “Muslim women too develop inferiority complexes about themselves.”

Since the Gulf Times considers itself to be “a cornerstone of the Qatari information media,” maybe it should rethink how it views journalism. Newspapers are for news, not for patronizing women and their choices.

Some Happy News

We didn’t know about this until it was published; thanks to Andi for giving us the tip!

Muslimah Media Watch was profiled in Utne magazine as part of a larger story on feminist websites!

The author got our name wrong, but any publicity is good publicity, right? Anyway, go read about us. While you’re at it, read about some of those other great websites, too.

Update: Thanks to the lovely people at Utne for fixing the misspelling in the online version!

More Than a Memoir

The secret life of the Middle Eastern Muslim woman is a hot topic. In bookstores around the world, books line the shelves displaying covers of teasing confessionals — desert princesses, seductive eyes lined with makeup behind a niqab, life when related to a terrorist, the disturbing details of what Muslims do to their women. These salacious tales are told by real-live women — don’t you just love memoirs? But there’s one memoir that won’t be snapped up by readers longing for the intriguing stories of those poor, abused Muslim now-saved women. It’s Leila Ahmed’s A Border Passage: from Cairo to America—a Woman’s Journey. A memoir that goes beyond mere memories to social issues across continents, the book doesn’t give neo-Orientalist drama a glance. Published in 1999, the memoir has not lost its relevance even nearly a decade later. In fact, Ahmed’s beautifully written reflections on her Egyptian childhood and British education may be even more necessary today.

Ahmed, born in Egypt in 1940, addresses topics such as imperialism, literacy, feminism, racism, and identity as they relate to her life before moving to the United States. Skillfully crafting her prose, Ahmed simultaneously uses the critical analysis of an academic (a PhD of Cambridge University, she currently teaches at Harvard Divinity School) to break down issues and introduce new ideas. In describing the Islam of her childhood, she writes of a “women’s Islam” distinct from a text-based, dogmatic “men’s Islam.” Ahmed laments the way written works dominate academia as reflecting “the ‘true’ and ‘authentic’ Islam”:

“Professors, for example, including a number who have no sympathy whatever for feminism, are now jumping on the bandwagon of gender studies and directing a plethora of dissertations on this or that medieval text with titles like ‘Islam and Menstruation.’ But such dissertations should more aptly have titles along the lines of ‘A Study of Medieval Male Beliefs about Menstruation.’ For what, after all, do these men’s beliefs, and the rules they laid down on the basis of their beliefs, have to do with Islam? Just because they were more powerful, privileged men in their society and knew how to write, does this mean they have the right forever to tell us what Islam is and what the rules should be?” (129-30)

Ahmed shatters many stereotypes about Egypt, Islam, and Muslim women. It’s not that she goes out of her way to do it. Instead, she presents her life matter-of-factly and most stereotypes just don’t fit into that world. The large black veil was only worn by the lower classes? A Muslim man would encourage his daughter to pursue science? Ahmed’s mother saw pacifism as the core of Islam? These ideas are slipped into the story naturally, not as part of a “Let me explain real Islam to you” agenda. (The latter is usually the only alternative to Islamophobic sensationalism.)

When Ahmed does mean to shock and enlighten her readers, the topics are hardly clichéd. A chapter of the book is devoted to investigating the history of the label “Arab.” Egypt, as it turns out, is relatively new to the label. And the fact that Muslims are predisposed to supporting the Palestinian cause over Israel? Ahmed completely destroys this “fact,” uncovering in her research Egypt’s pro-Israel (dare I say Zionist?) past. Ideas that seem unimaginable become real in the memoir, and there lies Ahmed’s greatest strength. The background of politics, the thoughts on literature, the musings on religion are intriguing and enjoyable. But the greatest impression A Border Passage leaves upon the reader is the idea that all “facts” can be reevaluated. Ahmed teaches her critical eye, forcing readers to realize that nothing is simple. Not Egyptian identity, not British imperialism, not the spirituality of Muslim women. This may only be the story of one woman, but with this message it makes room for the stories of many.