October 15, 2008

A few months ago, my mother gave me the CD of a Muslimah who she saw rapping at a masjid in Philadelphia. The CD is titled Muslimas with Attitude and the artist is Miss Undastood (link to her MySpace page here). She’s still a relatively new rapper who has released a few mixed-track CDs. Listening to Muslimah, as well as some of the tracks from her latest, State of the Ummah Address, I felt frustrated and happy, but mostly frustrated.

Below is one of Miss Undastood’s songs, titled “Best Names”:

I want to support Muslimahs in hip hop, since there are so few of us there. Miss Undastood isn’t afraid to advertise her Muslim identity and her rap revolves exclusively around Muslims and issues that mostly inner-city Muslims face. Some of the issues that she raps about are issues that affect Muslims of various backgrounds. One track, titled, “What up Muslims” looks at sectarian issues among Muslims. Miss Undastood is scathing in her criticism of sectarian Muslims, with lines like “I’m gonna salaam you even though you say hi” or “It’s no different than gang bangin'”.

She also addresses some gender issues. In “Hijab is the One Thing”, she asserts that “just because I cover don’t mean I’m more righteous. Just because she doesn’t, don’t mean she’s less pious.” She attacks the idea that a woman’s faith is connected to her dress. This is refreshing since all too often, talk of hijab comes down to talk of a woman’s faith or lack thereof. She also shoots down critiques of hijabs. She attacks the French for the ban on hijab with the line “French president says hijab gotta go. Democracy is hyprocrisy”; as well as the idea that hijabis wear the hijab to please their husbands.

In the track “Co-wife”, she critiques men who marry second wives for the “wrong” reasons. She mentions men who marry multiple wives without having any type of employment and who also have their wives rely on the welfare system for substinence. She also criticizes men who marry multiple wives to fulfill their “nafs” (base desires) and who deceive their wives, as well as racism in the marriage process. “How can you have a wife and she [the first wife] not know it? How you lookin’ to get over? You go to Morocco” she says, referring to the practice of some African American Muslim men who marry women from North African nations like Morocco and Algeria because they’re Arab and are lighter than African American women.

In “C.R.E.AM.”, she criticizes the materialism that she sees among some people in the inner city by asking why some people sell drugs to attain material goods and become jealous of “ballers”. These are some of the few instances that Miss Undastood uses her rap as a tool of social criticism for the ummah (Muslim community).

However, much of Miss Undastood’s music does not have this social justice theme. A lot of her music seems dedicated to announcing she is a Muslim, literally. She constantly invokes the fact that she is a Muslim who is different from “disbelievers”, especially Christians. She makes a point of pointing out that she doesn’t believe in Christian beliefs with lyrics like “I still say one God with no son no spouse”.

She constantly invokes how she does various “Muslim” acts, such as having an interest-free checking account, “closing” the ranks during congregational prayer, wearing a black hijab, carrying her Qur’an and collection of forty hadeeth (quotes from Prophet Muhammad), not drinking alcohol or eating a BLT, and more. There’s nothing wrong with these acts, but for me they made for boring listening. I already do these things and listening to someone describe the daily activities of some Muslims can become a rather tedious task. Perhaps she described these things so that non-Muslims can get a glimpse into the lives of some Muslims. This brings me to another point, which is Miss Undastood’s exclusivity.

Listening to her CD, as well as tracks on her page under Crescent Moon Media label, I felt that Miss Undastood had one idea of what Muslims are. All of the Muslimahs that she raps about wear hijab and if they don’t, then they’re simply struggling with wearing it. There’s no sense that not all Muslims agree on what constitute modest dress, no sense that some Muslim woman aren’t struggling with not wearing hijab because they don’t believe that hijab is mandated in the Qur’an.

She never challenges “traditional” interpretations of gender issues such as polygyny. In “CoWife Pt. 2” she says that polygyny is a “right” that Muslim men have and that women who don’t want their husbands to take on a second wife “don’t want to accept all of Islam” and implies that they don’t “want for their sisters what they want for themselves.” Even without challenging this view, there is no sense of complexity and nuance in her understanding of this issue. There’s no room for different opinions. Even some classical scholars allowed for women to stipulate in their marriage contracts that they didn’t want to have co-wives. So why is it implied that Muslim women who prefer to be in monogamous unions are not complete in their understanding of their faith?

I also found her characterization of non-Muslims to be cringe-worthy at times. In the song “CoWife”, she attacks non-Muslim women who criticize polygyny. She has lyrics like “you’re a mistress, creeping late at night” and “giving your man condoms to sleep with other women”. While a critique of some Western women’s attitudes toward polygyny is warranted, the character attack on non-Muslim women isn’t. The “mistress” line reminded me of a common Muslim defense of polygyny which is that non-Muslims have mistresses but Muslims have wives, so Muslims are better.

Overall, I think Miss Undastood has considerable talent and I think it is awesome that she is working in an industry that has few women and even fewer Muslim women. Hopefully, in the future, her rap will become more inclusive of the experiences of various Muslims and continue to provide valuable social critique.

October 14, 2008

I’ve always loved viewing art, especially at museums, though I’ve never considered myself savvy enough to ‘get it,’ always resorting to a laywoman’s interpretation. However, I’ve learned that regardless of what the artist intended in his/her piece, the observer/viewer/art connoisseur will see what s/he wants. Therefore, art can be a very controversial arena for expressing oneself, because the message of the piece never seems to be in anyone’s control. Mind you, is it ever meant to be? So then how do we, we as Muslims, interpret Sarah Maple‘s art – her paintings and her photographs?

Sarah Maple, referred to as the next Tracey Emin (an acclaimed Turkish-British artist known for her provocative autobiographical art) was mentioned briefly before on MMW with a promise to come back to her art at a later time. Considering she’s caused some controversy as of late with her recent painting of a Muslim woman cradling a pig, this seemed like the right time to get back to her.

So who is Sarah Maple? As described on her website:

Sarah Maple was born in 1985 and grew up in Sussex, where she lives today. She did her BA in Fine Art at Kingston University in October 2007, won ‘4 New Sensations’, a new art prize for graduates, voted by the public online, organised by Channel 4 and the Saatchi Gallery.

Much of her inspiration originated from her being brought up as a Muslim, with parents of mixed religious and cultural backgrounds. Understandably, issues of identity are of huge interest to her.

Maple states that the aim of her work is: “to give my audience food for thought. I believe comedy is a great tool to achieve this, which is why I choose to portray my conceptual ideas through a light-hearted and tongue-in-cheek approach”.

Maple’s work often takes on fabricated scenes and situations and she admits she is affected by the art world, as well as from her general surroundings; including friends, family, television and popular culture. She is also greatly moved by music, comedy and literature. She believes these influences are truly woven into her art, and provide the platform upon which her work is realised.

//www.salongallery.co.uk/
Image via http://www.salongallery.co.uk/

Her paintings are intricate and detailed, capturing the object of depiction well, whether it be Kate Moss or a Green Chair. There is no doubt that Maple is an extremely talented woman and this talent radiates through in her controversial works as well.

And controversy has hit her most recent work. It seems Maple’s recent painting has not been seen as so ‘light-hearted’ by some Muslims. The painting which has bothered some Muslims (seen to right) depicts a woman in a headscarf (who looks like Maple herself) cradling a pig. The painting, which is to be displayed at SaLon Gallery later this week, has irked many Muslims in the U.K. From the Telegraph:

Already, Mokhtar Badri, the vice-president of the Muslim Association of Britain, tells Mandrake that his organisation plans to visit the SaLon Gallery, in Notting Hill, west London, to demand that it remove Maple’s painting when it exhibits it next week.

Many of the Muslims who oppose the painting feel that Maple simply wants to provoke. They feel that Muslims should keep a distance from pigs and this painting violates that unspoken/unwritten rule.

Maple has stated that she wants to make people think. And this painting could bring about many different thoughts. We already know what some Muslims in the U.K. think. But what else could this painting be saying?

Perhaps she is depicting a reconciliation between two lifestyles – the Muslim one and the non-Muslim. Or perhaps she is making a statement about the acceptance and/or tolerance levels of Muslim women as opposed to Muslim men. Or maybe this is an expression of how she feels about her own identity as a Muslim living in the West. Who knows? If Maple wants to encourage thought then there very likely are multiple messages in this painting. To say that she is doing this to simply provoke, in my view, is simplistic and defensive. To view this only as a provocative piece seems to ignore the multi-layered and complex nature of art.

//www.sarahmaple.com/

In the next picture, entitled Bananarama (to left) we see Maple herself in a hijab ‘eating’ a banana. This is one we’ve featured on MMW before. Provocative? Indeed! Sexual? Definitely. Wrong? That’s up to the viewer. A woman in a hijab does have a sexuality. She can be a sexual being. As this is labeled a self-portrait by Maple, she very well could be trying to reconcile her own identity as a Muslim and as a sexual being. The fact that this is a self-portrait suggests this painting should be read as something personal to the artist as opposed to necessarily a comment on Muslim women in general.

Continuing with the hijab & sexuality theme, Maple includes in her self-portraits a painting, entitled Self Portrait with my Mother’s Headscarf and the breast of Kate Moss, of herself in her mother’s hijab with a breast exposed.

Throughout her work, Maple’s identity search, or perhaps a sort of crisis, emerges again and again in various forms along with her sexuality as a woman. In this picture (below right), entitled Blue, Badges, Burka, we see a woman in niqab who appears to have many identities and many allegiances, including to Britain. Perhaps we are seeing the complexity of a Muslim woman’s identity, especially one which is usually depicted as one-dimensional. Notice the magazine the woman holds with a seemingly nude woman on the cover. Again, a hint of her sexuality appears as a part of her identity as a Muslim woman.

In her Salat series of photographs, Maple poses at various stages of prayer, in some wearing masks, in some wearing hijab, in some wearing bunny ears with the hijab, and in some wearing no headcover. Could this be her way of questioning her own prayers, or those of others? Could this be her way of accepting diversity?

Maple’s work is vast and cannot be covered in detail in one post. However, what can be said about her work is that Maple appears to be trying to figure something out. Much of Sarah Maple’s work revolves around issues of identity – the individual identity of Sarah Maple and how she fits into her world. She’s trying to define her own identity through her work. She seems to be negotiating herself as a woman who is also a Muslim. She is trying to figure out what it means to be a sexual being and a Muslim. Although many other women may find themselves reflected in her work, the sense that I get from Maple’s work is that it is mainly about her. And to be honest if this is the way she chooses to do so, then so be it. After all, such negotiations are far from rare among Muslim women (among women in general). Maple just chooses to do hers publicly.

All paintings via Sarah Maple’s website.

October 10, 2008

  • Female imams have a large role in China’s Muslim population.
  • A Saudi journalists’ treatment on a blog answers her questions as to why Muslim women are treated badly.
  • The United Nation’s Children Fund is undertaking research to figure out the causes of India’s high maternal mortality rate.
  • Achelois writes her opinion on Islamic feminism (and why it’s not going to get us anywhere): part 1 and part 2
  • Aaminah Hernández has started the Winter Scarf Project, which will donate winter scarves to the homeless.

Al Jazeera interviews the Nigerian man with 86 wives, speaking also with his wives and gaging the community’s reaction:

  • Three Iranian feminist protesters have been sent to solitary confinement, reports the Committee to Support Widespread Hunger Strike by Kurdish Political Prisoners and Civil Rights Activists. Via WLUML.
  • Yassir Harib wonders why some Gulf men walk separately from their wives and children.
  • Unconfirmed reports say that a female suicide bomber killed nine and wounded 29 people outside a courthouse in Diyala, Iraq. May Allah give the victims peace.
  • Speaking of open letters, Crypto-Muslim writes a great one to Mohja Kahf for her “Sermon” piece in The Washington Post.
  • A female qazi has presided over another marriage in India.
October 8, 2008

This was written by Muse and originally appeared at her blog Between Hope & Fear.

It’s joyful to be a Muslim woman. So says Mohja Kahf. I agree with the sentiment and the substance of pretty much everything she wrote here, but her style bothers me. This is nothing new – I wrote about her earlier as well. But now I want to write out my thoughts on this article.

Starting with the title: “Spare Me the Lecture on Muslim Women.” The article immediately takes on a defensive tone and is off-putting to the reader, even one such as myself who’s “on her side,” so to speak. Who exactly is lecturing her? Most people don’t care who you are, what you worship, and what you wear so long as you come across as a decent human being who connects with them on common issues of importance. Not everything is about us and our scarves. Let’s dispense with the unnecessary self-importance. And if you’re about to represent Muslim women, stop acting like you have a chip on your shoulder.

She starts off talking about the joys of looking at her colorful hijabs and draping the beautiful fabrics on her head. I have to admit that there are days when I enjoy digging through my growing and colorful collection of hijabs and finding the one that looks the best for the occasion. But I find something unreal about her cheery tone. Is it always so fantastic? Can we hear a little bit more about any challenges it poses in this society? Even if hijab is not the linchpin of your spiritual struggle, surely wearing it means something politically significant in this country. What are her thoughts on that?

Ok, even if she wants to focus on the aesthetic and spiritual positives of the hijab, that’s her right, and surely those positives exist. But the article gets progressively more ludicrous. She goes on to say that “most Muslim women” experience God as a genderless Friend. Really? Can we be a bit more careful with the word “most,” especially when it comes to speaking about a topic as intimate, unreachable, and incomprehensible as one’s relationship with God? The whole point of the article is presumably to refute others who usurp the voices of Muslim women and tell them they need to be rescued from their religion and their men. In defending ourselves, lets not fall into the same trap and pretend we speak for “most” Muslim women. I’m also guilty of this – projecting my views on others, assuming that other people must think/feel/experience as I do – so I’ll try to take my own advice.

Alright, that’s not even that bad. But something about her discussion of marriage in Islam strikes me as dishonest. She talks about the mahr requirement, the flexibility of divorce and re-marriage in Islam, the legal right of a wife to be sexually satisfied, and prenups being standard practice. All valid points, surely, but all theoretical. The reality is far from woman-friendly, isn’t it? She briefly recognizes that misogyny often strips away these rights from Muslim women, but says (in the case of mahr) that these rules exist in the law. What good are they if they exist on the books but not in the home and in the courts? None really.

Also, in talking about our own traditions, there is no need to insult and belittle others. It smacks of insecurity, immaturity, and doesn’t win Muslims any friends and sympathizers. For example, in talking about how Muslim women get married, Kahf calls the Western dating tradition “nonsensical.” I can imagine our traditions being extremely nonsensical to others. It might not make much sense to others how a 17-year-old Saudi girl marries a suitor ten years her senior who comes “courting from half a world away.” Extend to others the same respect and understanding you expect.

Another thing that bothers me is the Muslim Martyrdom Syndrome (MMS). Boohoo, nobody gives us credit for having such fantastic rules in our tradition. She does it explicitly at least twice, saying in case of prenups that “Muslim never get credit” for drafting them as standard practice, and that “Muslims don’t get credit for having had that flexibility [in divorce] all along. We just can’t win with the Muslim-haters.” Maybe if we practiced what’s in our tradition, we wouldn’t have to beg for recognition like pathetic fools. The respect of the world, instead of its contempt, would flow naturally. And until we can get our houses in order, we have no right to act superior to others or demand their respect.

Kahf goes on to list a whole bunch of “Islamic law” rulings like little soundbites:

“custody of minor children always goes first to the mother. The Quran doesn’t blame Eve. Literacy for women is highly encouraged by the traditions of the Prophet Muhammad. Breast-feeding is a woman’s choice and a means for her to create family ties … Rapists are punishable by death in Islamic law … Birth control allowed in Islamic law? Check. Masturbation? Let’s just say former surgeon general Joycelyn Elders’s permissive stance on that practice is not unknown among classical and modern Muslim jurists. Abortion? Again, allowances exist — even Muslims seem not to remember that.”

There’s a huge danger in talking about Islamic law like bumper sticker slogans. Legal rulings occur in a context, applied to facts on the ground, taking into account the needs and times of society, and the rulings can be completely different in different madhabs and different situations. Kahf’s approach is the same one that allows others to ridiculously assert that “apostasy is punishable by death in Islam” and “Islamic law says to cut off the hand of the thief.” If one doesn’t understand the nuances of the practice of Islamic Law (as I surely don’t), the best thing to do is to remain silent (or at least qualify our statements) rather than wave our flawed understanding as the banners of absolute truth.

Of course, she closes with how Muslim women had the right to own property before the western world, the example of Khadijah, and Muslim female heads of state. The response to such arguments is to point to the dismal state of some Muslim women all over the world today and ask “What has Islam done for Muslim women lately?” Neither side is right and yet both are right. But this kind of facile score-keeping doesnt advance the discourse.

Editor’s Note: Read Sobia’s take on this same article from yesterday.

October 7, 2008

The Jewel of Medina goes on sale in the United States today. *queue scary music.*

Two weeks ago, I got a copy of the novel from Beaufort Books, the U.S. publisher, to review for the magazine I work at. I read the book, interviewed Denise Spellberg—the associate professor of history and Middle Eastern studies at the University of Texas who advised Random House not to publish Jewel—and also managed to wrangle a one hour-interview with author Sherry Jones.

My article can be read here and here. It’s shameless self-promotion, but I promise you it’s a fascinating read. 🙂

If you’re interested, you can also can listen to or download the interview here and here. And if you don’t have an hour to spare, you can download the transcript here.

And now for my op-ed:

I initially began reviewing this novel by deciding to list all the inaccuracies and false facts I found in it. But once I realized I’d already filled four pages of text and I was only 40 pages into the book, I stopped.

Purple prose aside (and there’s a lot of that), my biggest beef with The Jewel of Medina is the author’s insistence that the book is “extensively researched” and based as close as possible to historical facts when the reality is that Jones has taken liberties with history that would make historians gnash their teeth. If she’d only just added the disclaimer “this book is loosely based on real facts,” it would have been so much easier to stomach.

In my interview with her, she admitted that

“A novel has a protagonist, […] a narrative, thriving action, tension, climax, [and] resolution, and […] I didn’t find that the lives of the characters conformed to that structure. So I had to introduce elements and make some changes for the sake of putting together a novel.”

In other words, she had to distort history and sensationalize it in order to get people to read it. Sex and violence sells. And what better way to draw in readers than with a racy, completely fictionalized and very controversial version of hadith al-ifk? (the accusation of adultery made against ‘Aisha). Which, by the way, was made available online months ago. A teaser, if you like.

In other words, it’s libel. If Lady A’isha was alive today, she could sue.

But is it not libel because Jones has said her novel is fiction? I remember the fuss that people kicked up when the book Confidential by Allison Jackson was published. Basically, Jackson found look-alikes of celebrities and photographed them in compromising situations (the back cover of the book is the Queen of England sitting on a toilet reading a magazine with her granny underwear around her ankles. Other photos include “George Bush and Tony Blair chatting in the sauna, Osama Bin Laden playing backgammon, and Monica Lewinsky lighting Bill Clinton’s cigar”). Fauxtography at its best. But, and here’s the rub, she didn’t get into any trouble because she stated that the photos were of look-alikes.

It’s understandable why the celebrities would be annoyed with Jackson. But at least with her book, the reader knows that everything is false. But with Jones’ book, how will the inaccuracies be discernible by non-Muslim readers? Advising them to read the novel with a healthy grain of salt will not help them differentiate between what is fact and fiction. Consequently, the fiction will end up circulating in mainstream literature and Muslims will have to work hard to counteract the ideas put forth by Jones’ book.

And it’s not just the obvious boo-boos (hadith al-ifk interpretation, the hatun [great lady of the house], purdah [seclusion, a sub-continental custom that did not apply to the Islamic age], Lady ‘Aisha being a warrior, etc), but little things mentioned oh-so-subtly: you’ll get your hand cut off for stealing even when you’re starving, you’ll get stoned if you’re seen speaking to a man, and other random things like the Prophet’s favorite meal and decorating camels with kohl (eyeliner) and flowers before slaughtering them (huh?).

One more thing: why is it al-Lah and not Allah?!

To be fair to the author, she does represent certain situations, events and personas in a good light. But the novel includes many glaring inconsistencies; I’d be reading, and suddenly something so blatantly wrong reared its head and jarred my concentration. What we call in Arabic el sem fel ‘asal (poison in honey). It’s especially galling when you realize that many strands of the truth are taken to weave a tale that is not quite true—though a lot more sensational.

The Prophet, for example, appears as a just and fair leader, although Jones alludes to the idea that he might have been marginally corrupted by power. His kind treatment of women shines through and even though it’s not a glowing portrayal, neither is it at all fair to liken Jones’ representation of him to the Danish cartoons.

But the poison here is Jones portraying him as a man who, to put it bluntly, was sex-obsessed, looking at women as if they were “a bowl of honey” with “nostrils flared,” and “no duty in his lust filled gaze.” He marries complete babes because he desires them—and oh, they also happen to be political alliances. Not the other way around. The Egyptian women arrive in belly-dancing suits, and with their eunuchs. Oh, and did I mention the catfights? And that One Thousand and One Arabian Nights is one of Jones’ sources? ‘Nuf said.

(Though again, to be fair, there are no sex scenes. With all the fuss, I was expecting pages and pages of heaving bosoms. Elhamdulelah there wasn’t).

October 3, 2008

  • Forty newborn babies died of infection in a hospital in Ankara, Turkey. May Allah give them and their parents peace.
  • Marwa Rakha writes a two part series on sexual harassment in Egypt for the American Chronicle.
  • This will make you never want to wear glass bangles again.
  • Alina Zaria writes a poignant poem for ArabComment about an honor killing.
  • Gloria Steinem sits down with Suheir Hammad to talk about life, love, and Sarah Palin. Aside: Hammad looks gorgeous here, mashallah. I dig what she’s doing with the headscarf/hat combo.
  • A man in Pakistan killed his wife over “a domestic issue.” The story doesn’t say whether this man has been arrested or not. The title of the story? “Man kills wife.” (sad sigh)
  • Elements of Curiosity discusses the Egyptian lollipop cartoons.
  • The Hijablog wonders where the magazine Jumanah went.
  • The Muslim Family Safety Project educates British Muslims about domestic violence issues.
  • The Daily News reviews Dr. Amina Wadud’s book Inside the Gender Jihad: Women’s Reform in Islam.
  • Saudi Arabia’s religious police have ordered shopkeepers to put away all their glittery Eid abayas.

Al Jazeera profiles two women who are refusing to stay silent about their rapes:

  • A man beats his wife until she is brain dead. May Allah give her justice.
  • Al-Qaeda has used 24 children as suicide bombers in the last two years, reports AKI.
  • Two sisters were murdered in the U.K.; the man who is accused of murdering them is being held without bail. Anglo-Libyan speaks about a community’s grief after the murders.
  • Arlington, Mass., celebrates “Arlington Town Day” by allowing passersby to wear an Iraqi abaya for a few seconds. (rolling eyes)
  • MuslimMatters gives information on signing a petition to persuade the U.S. government to treat Dr. Aafia Siddiqui humanely in prison.
  • I had another link for this, but I can’t find it anymore and the BBC does a better job of explaining a Saudi sheikh’s opinion on why women who wear niqab should only show one eye.
Khaled Desouki/AFP). Via BBC.
Egyptian women take part in mass congregational prayers marking the end of the Muslim holy month of Ramadan, at a stadium in the Nile Delta city of Mansura (Photograph: Khaled Desouki/AFP). Via BBC.

 

October 2, 2008

This was written by Sakina and originally published at Ruined by Reading.

I recently finished Lipstick Jihad by Azadeh Moaveni, which is a memoir of an Iranian girl who grew up in California and has moved to Tehran as a BBC correspondent in an effort to find a place where she belongs. She spent her entire adolescence feeling out of place, believing that if she were to just reconnect with her “Iranianness”, she would find a home and she would be complete. Unfortunately, once she gets to Tehran, she realizes that she feels like an outsider and a foreigner there as well. While she tries to find her place, she learns about modern day Iranian society and gives the reader an insight into Iran that is about more than harems and suicide bombers.

One thing that is constantly discussed is gender relations, and the way women are treated and expected to act and dress. Amidst all the claims that hijab is meant to protect women from men, and is meant to keep sexual desires out of the public sphere, Moaveni contradicts this by asserting that it does the opposite. At least in modern day Iran it does. And it makes sense. This is also an idea touched upon by Louise Brown in The Dancing Girls of Lahore – if you keep something from the public eye, then it will become more desired by society, more scandalous when it is actually seen, and on the minds of the public even more. In this case, that something is a woman’s body. According to Moaveni, many men are perverts who take simple things, such as smiling or even smoking in public, as an invitation to invite a woman to bed. Even the clerics ask women for their numbers, which is experienced by Moaveni herself in a particularly shocking and comical detailing of the time a cleric asked if he could get her number and visit her, alone, when he visited Cairo. Sex is on the minds of men and women alike, and the same women who walk the streets in a chador spend their nights engaging in erotic conversations in internet chatrooms. Even though the state forces women to cover to an extent, in an effort to control society, the opposite is achieved and the product is a society that craves sex and desires to talk about it and experience it.

Maoveni treats hijab and modest dress flippantly. But I can’t really blame her. Her only real experiences with Islam are in an unreligious community in California, and in a country where Islam is corrupted and forced down the throats of every citizen. The way Islam is described in Lipstick Jihad seems as though it would only serve to make the reader, uneducated on Islam, think that it really is inherently oppressive to women. But I can’t really hold that against the author, since this is her memoir and the purpose is not to educate Western readers on Islam – something which seems to be almost as foreign to herself as it is to many of those who will read this book. It isn’t her fault that her experiences with it have been mostly negative when it comes to the treatment of women.

I will say though that, although I agree with the idea that hijab can serve to do the opposite of it’s intended purpose, it is not inherently bad or corrupted. If the state had not enforced it, and society had raised and socialized men to believe that they can control their desires and are not wild animals, and that society’s virtue and honor does not rest solely upon a woman’s chastity, the Iran that Moaveni stepped into would have probably be vastly different. If only those ideas were applied to the entirety of the Muslim community.

Moaveni (pictured left) is an intriguing author and I enjoyed her memoir. Iranian politics and history are, to me, complicated and I have pretty much no knowledge of them except for my undying love for Ahmadinejad (you think I’m joking, but I’m almost serious). I realize that her memoir is hardly representative to the experiences of Iranians as a whole. She only really represents the privileged class, which is usually a class that is often exempted from the rules of society and can get away with a lot more. I would really love to read a memoir from someone who was from the poorer, working class. Someone from southern Tehran. I would love to read a woman’s story of her time serving in the Morality Police, though I doubt anything of that sort will be hitting the bookstore shelves anytime soon.


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