Indeed, there is a very fine line between safeguarding and control. For those who are happy with the fatwa, it is viewed as a means of preventing something unpleasant. But we also need to ask ourselves: what are the unpleasant repercussions of female homosexuality? Are they a threat to other Muslim’s spirituality? And for those who disagree with the fatwa, it is nothing but a form of control. Looking a little androgynous in Malaysia, intentional or not, is simply risking harassment.

The fatwa itself does not hold water: you cannot associate sexuality with dress. If there was a fatwa that relates to the safety and protection of women, then it’s a fatwa that declares any form of sexual harassment ‘haram’.

It depends on who you are protecting and from whom. The US, and a few other Western countries, have put in place laws that control the behaviour of Muslims to protect non-Muslims.

I think the line gets crossed when a portion of the population feels violated and denied their rights, and the control of whose behaviour does not protect anyone from anything. For instance, banning same-sex marriage is a form of controlling behaviour which infringes upon the rights of gays and lesbians AND which does not protect heterosexual people. Controlling the behaviour of Muslims (via ethnic profiling, Patriot Act etc) violates the rights of Muslims while not actually protecting non-Muslims from anything (except the acceptance of Muslims as fellow citizens).

Placing a fatwa against tomboys violates the rights of women who choose to dress/behave in non-stereotypical feminine ways while not protecting anyone else from anything. How this actually protects society escapes me.

I’m a little bothered by the remark, “Its like living in Translyvania.” What exactly did you mean by that?

@ cycad
I would be interested to know how you define the thin line between protection and control. It seems to me that the difference between the two is in the eye of the beholder: what one may view as protection, another may view as control. The same could be said of a whole host of Islamic guidelines/ aspects of Shari’ah law, in particular with regards to women, right?
So how do you as a Muslim and a feminist reconcile these two concepts? Is it ever acceptable to ‘control’ aspects of individuals’ lives or the way society is run in order to ‘protect’ its citizens?
Or should that protection only ever relate to one’s physical safety or health, for example, rather than moral or spiritual safety?

Just throwing some thoughts out here, haven’t a firm opinion of my own, but would like to know how you sisters are processing this info.
JazakAllahu khairah
Na’ima

There is a really good report on violence in Malaysia here (probably more than two years old though):
http://tinyurl.com/5amrg7

Another report here, scroll down to ‘Children’:
http://www.state.gov/g/drl/rls/hrrpt/2004/41649.htm

And another:
http://tinyurl.com/56t7jl

I’m sorry that you’ve had the experience of dealing with annoying Malaysian men. Malay men particularly, can be a public nuisance sometimes. It is true that sexual harassment is rife, but not many women know how to tackle such situations, so there are very few who publicly address the issue and actions against it. Dressing down (with hijab, or not) is certainly one way get around ignored by lascivious eyes. Also, putting on a mean face while around Kuala Lumpur always works for me

Majority of men don’t try anything more than calling out to you, whistle, or make that horrible ‘squeaking’ sound to get your attention. In that way, they are quite ‘harmless’. But in Malaysia, no woman can be really safe from the horrors of rape; we’ve had victims who were children, hijabis, and elderly women. Just as many are incestuous rapes. Many of the perpetrators are Malay men who come from the rural parts of country. It’s an economic and social problem, rather than a religious one. This is compounded further by the lack of sex education for village children, men and women.

Getting hold of pornography is easy, easier still are the ‘moral’ magazines containing stories packed with detailed accounts of illicit sex, but always with a moral twist. Nearly every Malay knows about or reads these magazines. They’re like Aesop’s fables for the dirty-minded, and no one has really put a stop to them. No one, not even the muftis on their moral high horses. Perhaps it’s a kind of buffer for repressed sexuality and forbidden fantasies, the way very graphic manga plays a huge part in Japan’s social fabric – to stop people from acting out their darker side.