July 30, 2008

Fashion designers are now starting to see head scarves as the latest hot fashion trend. In an IslamOnline article, various designers were quoted about this new trend. Two words that came up often were”modesty” and “chastity”. Apparently, fashion designers want to show that modesty, chastity, and elegance are not mutually exclusive. Although the designers said that they weren’t focused solely on Muslim women, I’m sure that Muslim women are definitely a market that is increasingly being focused on by the fashion industry.

As a hijabi, maybe people think I would be elated by this article, but I’m actually a bit cautious. For one thing, isn’t the one of the objectives of hijab to take the focus off of outer appearances? One of the most common arguments given by hijab apologists is that the hijab prevents women from only being judged by how they look. It allows women to be judged for who they truly are. If headscarves are suddenly made into the latest fashion trend, doesn’t it suddenly lose that purpose? Hasn’t it become the latest commodity that women must have? As Muslims, should we support that? That’s why I was a bit surprised that the article was featured on an Islamic website. The commercialization of hijab seems antithetical to what hijab is all about.

Also, the article brought up the issue of the definitions of modesty and chastity. As I read the article, I kept wondering how modesty and chastity are defined especially in this quote:

According to Dennis Nothdruft, curator of London’s Fashion and Textile Museum, the headscarf resurgence is about a new sense of “chastity” in fashion. He affirms that the trend is not all new after all. “Women wore headscarves in medieval times to maintain their modesty,” he explains. 

Is the wearing of the khimar (which is the actual headscarf) the sole indicator of modesty? What about women who do not wear the hijab, both Muslim and non-Muslim? Are they immodest? Isn’t modesty also related to our attitude? What about hijabis or other “modestly” dressed women who have horrible attitudes and look down upon anyone who doesn’t agree with their line of thinking on how women should dress or act? Arrogance isn’t modesty at all.

This isn’t to say that hijabis necessarily look down upon non-hijabis, but it is to point out that modesty is about much than headscarves. Also, women who don’t wear headscarves are not necessarily immodest. Why is it assumed that women who don’t wear hijab are immodest? My suspicion is that IslamOnline published that article, at least partly, to reinforce that idea. One of the most glaring problems with in this whole discussion on modesty is that it focuses exclusively on women’s appearances. Modesty is a complicated thing and I’m never happy when it’s reduced to our appearance.

There was also the issue of chastity. When fashion designers say that they want to bring chastity back to fashion, I can’t help but to feel that we’re once again reducing women’s sexuality to their dress. Chasity is automatically equated with wearing hijab or headscarves. When a woman’s sexuality is reduced to her clothing, this leads to a very slippery, patriarchal slope. “If covered women are chaste then uncovered women must be (insert you choice of whatever gendered sexual slur).” “That woman deserved to be raped/sexually harassed because she was dressed like a…” Thus, I cringe, not celebrate, when fashion designers connect “chastity” to fashion.

That being said, I can’t deny that I do try to look nice and that it is rather cool for people, Muslim and non-Muslim, to realize that dressing in hijab does not mean dressing as “Umar the tent maker’s daughter” (as my mother put it). Dressing in hijab does not mean that we don’t put any care into how we dress. A lot of hijabis are really into fashion. A friend of mine graduated from Parsons. She’s a designer and obviously loves fashion. So when I read articles like the one referenced, in a weird way I do feel a little happy. Hijabis aren’t monolithic. Some hijabis wear really plain jilbabs, others shop at Bloomingdale’s and get the latest designer fashion. There is a spectrum. Articles like this one show that diversity and that’s always a good thing.

July 28, 2008

Every week, the Friday links here at Muslimah Media Watch include several stories about Muslim women’s clothing. Our posts often cover these issues as well. We look at definitions of veiling and modesty, and how these are perceived by Muslim and non-Muslim media. How some Muslim women are often seen as oppressed by their clothing, or other times are seen as stronger/better/more pious because of their clothing, and how people’s identities are always much more complicated than this.

But most of you who read MMW don’t actually need me, or any of the other writers, to tell you this stuff. I could probably write a different post each week focusing only on representations of clothing or headscarves, but that might get old. As much as I’m having fun pulling apart some of the ridiculous articles that come our way, this is something that many of you can do on your own.

Last week, when writing about the Charming Burka, I promised to have more of a discussion on these clothing issues and why they get talked about so much. So, a question. This might be a bit of a can of worms that I just may be opening here, but here goes. I guess I’m essentially wondering why there’s such a focus in the media on issues of how Muslim women dress, and especially on this clothing as oppressive. Before this starts to sound just too simplistic, let me explain. I’m working on the assumption that most women choose how they want to dress, and are entitled to make that choice (acknowledging that the concept of “choice” can be problematic inside and outside of Islamic contexts, but we’ll talk about that one another time.) However, there are also some women who may indeed dress a certain way because they are forced to do so because of whatever oppressive and patriarchal forces they are up against. (These categories are not necessarily so clearly defined.)

Given that we’re talking about images of Muslim women, this second category usually manifests as women who are forced to wear a burqa (or niqab, or hijab) because of overbearing and/or abusive fathers, or other male family or community members. This certainly does not represent anything close to all Muslim women, and even those covered by this category have much more complex lives than it suggests. (It is also certainly not unique to Muslim communities.) But let’s accept that some women do fit into this category in some way.

The thing is, even for this segment of the population for whom clothing is something imposed on them, should what they wear really be our biggest concern? My impression is that if a woman is in a situation where she truly does not have any say in what she wears, chances are she is probably facing greater abuse (or threats thereof) than the cloth that she is wearing on her body. Why, then, does the focus so often stop at the level of clothing? If the writers of these articles truly feel that these women are oppressed, then why don’t they look at the actual oppression that they are living with, rather than the headscarf (or face-covering, or whatever) that supposedly indicates this oppression? Or do the writers truly think that hijab, in whatever form it takes, is so inherently oppressive that it warrants constant media coverage and analysis?

I’m having a hard time articulating this, since it is often really inappropriate to assume that someone else is oppressed (or worse, needing you to save them), whether the issue is clothing or anything else. I do not want to be saying that people writing these articles should just switch to another issue without also looking critically at themselves and their own position and relation to the topic. But even when people do feel some need to write about “oppressed Muslim women,” why is this done so often in the context of their clothes? Is this just a continuation of the veil-fetish art and literature of colonial times? Is it simply because the scarf is such a visible marker of being different from mainstream European/North American society? Is it really just a misunderstanding that seems to lead people to see the scarf as inherently oppressive, or is there an agenda behind wanting to portray Muslim women (and by extension, Muslim cultures) in certain ways? Is this talked about differently in Western and non-Western media? I’d love to hear people’s thoughts on this.

Major disclaimer before anyone starts thinking about commenting: As usual, Muslimah Media Watch is a forum to discuss representations of Muslim women. This means that, as usual, this is not the place to discuss whether burqas (or headscarves) are required in Islam, or whether they are inherently oppressive. The question is about why these get talked about in the ways that they do, and specifically why they often get seen as the form of oppression that women are dealing with.

July 25, 2008

  • Muslim women in Italy who face abuse find help through an abuse hotline.
  • Mona El Tahawy writes about the recent verdicts in France that concern Muslim women’s veils and hymens.
  • Iraq has trained several women to fight female bombers. The only problem is that they’re all Sunni; what about Shi’a women?
  • Pakistani senator Nilofar Bakhtiar plans to remain in the country, despite death threats made against her.
  • Get your surprised face on! Voice of America reports that French Muslim women are often wrongly stereotyped.
  • An American girl studying the Qur’an in Pakistan has an uncertain future because her visa has expired.
  • A Saudi man “won” a 10-year-old girl in a stupid bet with her father. WTF?!
  • More disgusting maid abuse in Saudi Arabia. May Allah protect these women.
  • Palestinian Maryse Gargour’s film won several awards this year; she speaks with Menassat.
  • Feminists in Iran plan a sit-in demonstration to protest against a proposed bill that would no longer require a man to ask his wife’s permission to marry more wives.
  • A woman is murdered; her killer fails at committing suicide after killing her. May Allah give her peace and justice.
  • Islamfemina writes about female imams in China and Chinese Muslim women’s roles in the community. Via Islamify.
  • Abu Sufyan writes about “free mixing” of genders for IslamOnline.
  • Maryam Rajavi says that the international community must support Iran’s resistance movement.
  • Women can now qualify as civil servants in Morocco. Finally! Barikallah!
  • Dubai’s princess Sheikha Maitha is working on her karate; she will compete in the 2008 Beijing Olympics.
  • Al
    Jazeera
    reports on the increase in sexual assaults in Mauritania, but convictions for rapists don’t.
  • A female suicide bomber kills eight in Iraq. May Allah give the victims peace.
  • Sketchy job notices in Saudi Arabia seek to trick women into “questionable” jobs.
  • Iran’s Supreme Cultural Revolution Council has designated July 12 as “National Virtue Day for the Veil.”
  • Two women claim that they were denied employment at a Detroit-area McDonald’s because of their headscarves.
  • Nesrine Malik discusses domestic violence and “honor”-related violence, and the systems of oppression that keep women from leaving.
  • AKI features a video of the One Million Signatures campaign calling for women’s equality.
July 24, 2008

Last week, I critiqued the first of two articles on modesty written by Anam Majeed. Today I’ll look at the second piece – Islam, Modesty, and Sex in the West – Part II.

This time, Majeed begins with a GQ interview with fashion designer Miuccia Prada in which she critiques the show Sex and the City. Prada states that SATC is not a show women should be emulating, as it leads to unhappiness. She feels that women today try too hard. They dress too sexy. When they are unhappy, they wear fewer clothes. According to Prada, women have less dignity today than do men.

With women, the more unhappy they are, the more undressed they are. This is true. Dignity’s another very important part of this. Sex and the City is the opposite of dignity. You have to have dignity for your body-this is with men and women. You need to have dignity towards how you are, how you dress, how you behave. Very important. Men are always much more dignified than most women.

Although Prada does make some interesting points, this last line made me upset. Why would Majeed choose to use a quote, which depicts women as inferior? This statement doesn’t even strike me as remotely true. But this is my analysis of part of Prada’s quote. Majeed begins her analysis by assuming that Prada equates more clothing with dignity. In fact, according to Majeed, Prada is saying that “more clothes means more dignity.” This is not what Prada said. She did speak about the importance of dignity and she did say that clothing is one way to express dignity, but not that more clothing equaled more dignity. This seemed to be the way Majeed wanted to interpret Prada’s words. If this were the case, then this would mean that those women who are covered from head to toe are more dignified than those who wear jeans and a sweater, who in turn are more dignified than those women who wear short skirts and t-shirts. Majeed then writes

…she speaks not only of apparel, but also of how this ties into one’s behaviour and resulting inner happiness. How delightfully Islamic of her, but I still wouldn’t wait with bated breath for the release of Prada branded burquas…

Prada did not say that clothing ties in with behaviour and inner happiness, but rather dignity. Yes, this is in Islam, but it is also in Western thought. Dignity is a virtue in the West as well. Then why the cringe-inducing burqa comment? Why is that the Islamic clothing that came to mind? I suppose that, according to Majeed, the burqa would be the most dignified of apparel.

Majeed does accurately point out that Prada seems to be praising modesty. And this is something to appreciate, especially for many Muslim women who do value modest dress. But again, the same question as last week comes up. What is modesty? What does Majeed mean when she says modest? Last week I concluded, from various statements, that by modesty Majeed was referring to hijab and/or niqaab. Add burqa to that this week. This conclusion was further confirmed in this piece.

However, to continue, Majeed points out that many in the West may be against modesty (an extreme assertion, as I stated last week) because of modesty’s negative connotations in Judeo-Christian tradition. This, in an attempt to show that Islamic modesty and feminism are not at odds. Good idea, because too many people, Muslims and non-Muslims, believe that Islam and feminism are incompatible. But to present Islamic modesty as a “solution to the ills facing women today” might be simplifying the “ills facing women today.” I doubt modesty would solve the problem of violence against women.

Majeed feels that today, when feminists fight the patriarchy of the Judeo-Christian traditions, they confuse Islam to be of a similar nature. Therefore, she feels that feminists need not fight Islamic patriarchy as that patriarchy does not exist. Majeed’s main argument appears to be that Islam treats women very well, it is not patriarchal, and thus requiring women to dress modestly should not have such negative connotations as it has within the Judeo-Christian traditions, which have been patriarchal. However, many may disagree. Although many Muslims do believe that Islam, as it was meant to be followed, does promote equality and egalitarianism, they find today that Islam is used to justify subjugation of women and thus a very patriarchal system. Majeed did recognize this, but blamed culture for such oppressions. (Though she does state at one point that the “particular patriarchal system that the feminist movement sought to overthrow does not quite exist in the Islamic world.” What?! Yes it does!)

Such blame ignores the fact that religion, and religion alone, is often used and abused as the justification for various oppressions of women (ie. the Hudood Ordinance of Pakistan, which resulted in the horrendous treatment of so many women). Majeed paints an overly idealistic picture.

Specifically, Majeed gives the example of gender roles, first stating that “[t]here are spheres within Islam which men and women may dominate unequally, but always to a net equity, to a balanced social harmony” but then says that “[m]ales and females can coexist and thrive in their overlapping spheres without the encumbrance of a traditionally Western categorization of gender roles. These narrow interpretations that the feminist movement fought to eradicate have no source in Islam.” First, she seems to be saying that there are gender roles in Islam (equal but different) but then states narrow gender roles do not exist in Islam. Perhaps she needs to clarify her first statement. What does she mean?

To demonstrate the compatibility of Islamic modesty with feminism, Majeed speaks of the hijab, the “primary value” of which “is not in opposition, but as it stands as an article of faith in obedience to the modesty enjoined upon believing women by God.” Or so certain interpretations state. This statement confirms that Majeed is thinking of hijab, at least, when thinking of modesty. No hijab means no modesty. How else would one explain this statement:

It is only now, in our present times, when the idea of modesty has sadly become intertwined with abuse, oppression, and the subjugation of women..

This statement only makes sense if one is thinking of the hijab, niqab, or burqa. These items have indeed been given such negative connotations. Not modesty itself.

Once again, Majeed’s very narrow definition of modesty weakened her argument. She tried to reconcile feminism with Islam, something more of us need to do to eliminate misconceptions. She also accurately portrays the acceptability of sex and sexuality in Islam within marriage. Yet, her overall argument was not convincing. If only Majeed had been clear and stated that it was not modesty in general she was speaking of, but rather a very specific form of it.

July 17, 2008

Recently, Anam Majeed wrote a two-part piece for the The Western Muslim on the concept of modesty in the West, with the first of the two entitled Islam, Modesty and Sex in the West. The piece made some valid points, as well as some questionable ones. Overall, Majeed states that modesty is loathed in the West and thus the the hyper-focus on the sexuality of women has made sexuality uninteresting and asexual. If modesty was still held in high regard, sexuality would still be of interest to people. Modesty appears to be defined in one way. But this is the overall gist. Let’s get to some of the details.

The piece starts by presenting an 80-year-old quote on modesty and women by D.H. Lawrence from A Propos of Lady Chatterley’s Lover. In the excerpt, D.H. Lawrence (a man) appears to be warning against women showing too much flesh and encourages maintaining modesty. Fair enough. However, having a man telling women how to dress and behave makes myself, and many women, defensive. Additionally, 80 years prior was a long time ago and a very different time. The quote exposes the views of the time by making the woman into a sexual creature whose power resides in her sex and who men desire. This belief seems dated in a Western context, as the feminist movement has brought focus onto the woman as a whole since then, not just her sexuality. A more recent quote would have much better suited the piece.

As I read the article, I began to wonder how Majeed was going to define modesty. What is she picturing when she pictures modesty? The remaining article made it fairly clear that Majeed had one particular version of modesty in mind, which can be problematic regardless of how valid the claims may be.

Majeed makes the extremely exaggerated claim that modesty is “public enemy number one” in the West. This statement may help her ‘sell’ her article but it creates an unnecessary and simplified dichotomy between the West and modesty, pitting one against the other. This statement implies that modesty is not tolerated in the West. For anyone living in the West, we know this is not the case. Even if modesty is how she defines it. When mocking the West’s view of modesty she assumes that modesty is “Little-House-On-the-Prairie chic” or a “too-long skirt” providing insight into her mental images of modest dress.

No doubt, there is a pressure on women to dress stylishly and often that style includes clothing which many Muslim women may not find modest, but the way Majeed presents modesty one would assume non-Muslims of the West loathe and fear modesty. According to Majeed in the West modesty is repressive, controlling of female sexuality, oppressive, and subjugating. Again, a a tall tale, if you ask me. However, if Majeed is thinking of the hijab and/or niqab only when thinking of modesty then such claims make more sense. The hijab and niqab have traditionally been seen in such negative ways, but not modesty itself. When was the last time a knee-length skirt was considered oppressive or subjugating? Majeed appears to be making the assumption that only the hijab and niqab equal modesty. Therefore, throughout my reading of the article I could only assume that the hijab and/or niqab were being referred to when speaking of modesty.

Majeed admonishes the culture in which women feel a pressure to look a certain way. Very valid derision. However, Majeed then continues to deride the stereotype that modesty is not sexy and claims that indeed modesty can be sexy. At this point I began to get confused. Can modesty be sexy? Does sexy not contradict modest? Isn’t the point of modesty not attracting attention to oneself while the point of sexy is to attract attention to oneself? Especially since the modesty she refers to is that of the hijab and/or niqab. Should those even be sexy? Would that not defeat the purpose?

While speaking of the pressures women face to look a certain way, Majeed states that we are told by the media that we are ugly unless we do as the marketers say. Women are made to hate our bodies as we are told our bodies are ugly. The way we then feel better about our bodies is by buying the products we are told will beautify us and by seeking male approval (obviously this relates to heterosexual women only). All very good points. Indeed the marketing world does prey on our insecurities about our bodies. However, I’m not clear how modesty is the panacea. The marketing world would still be trying to sell us something by preying on our insecurities about one thing or another (skin colour for instance).

By pointing out the verse in the Qur’an which speaks about modesty, Majeed makes clear that in Islam, all women are considered beautiful. Unlike the common message we receive from the marketers, Islam teaches us that our bodies are beautiful. Again, a great point. Indeed the philosophy that all women are beautiful is one with which many women will agree happily. My confusion occurs again when Majeed then states that women’s bodies are not “to be hidden away because of some inherent loathsomeness.” On the one hand she is praising and supporting modesty, but on the other she appears to be saying that we do not need to cover our bodies. Does she mean that women’s bodies should not be covered? Or that they should be covered but not because we hate our bodies, but because we are told to by the Qur’an?

Finally, Majeed appears to further propagate the belief that women are inherently sexual creatures. We see this in the following quote:

And so, the truly empowering force of modesty can be seen in the woman who fully accepts her desirability, her femininity, her ability to attract a male, her feeling that her sex is too powerful to remain unguarded. This is an innate sense of the female’s power; it is a subconsciously realized truth, one that is so deeply connected with the female psyche that it cannot be labeled as conceit.

So a woman’s power thus is her sexuality. What happened to her mind? To her skill? No doubt sexuality is a powerful force, but in both men and women. To state that a woman’s power is in her sexuality denies the other ways in which women can hold power.

Majeed is buying into Al-Ghazali’s Theory of Sexuality which states that a woman in inherently a fitna (chaos) causing creature whose sexuality is so powerful she must be controlled and kept away from society.

“Thus, the Islamic notion of hayat, or shyness, is like a veil placed upon women to protect them from the power that is their sex.”

Al-Ghazali wanted to protect men from women; Majeed wants to protect women from themselves.

Majeed then presents a quote which states that a woman who is not dressed modestly is one who is for “public use.” Again, whose definition of modesty do we use when judging which woman is for public use and which is for private use? To imply that a woman is for use at all, whether private or public, is highly offensive. Majeed again should have been careful with which quotes she used.

Majeed ends the piece by again re-iterating that modesty, because it projects self-confidence, is indeed sexy. Fair enough. Perhaps modesty can be sexy. But is it the modesty or the self-confidence? A woman who is not “modest” can also be very self-confident. Again, who decides which woman is modest, and which woman is not?

Overall, Majeed did makes some vaild points. Her criticisms of the ma

rketing world and the pressures on women to look a particular way were accurate and would resonate with many, if not most, women. However, as she never did define modesty, but only gave a few hints as to what her definition was, I was only able to assume what she meant by modesty and the assumption did not serve her argument well. By appearing to define modesty in rigid terms, her arguments only pertained to certain group of women. It also isolated a large group of women who also dress modestly but not as imagined by Majeed. Perhaps a rewriting of the piece with more forms of modesty in mind would help her present her argument more appropriately

Part two for next week.

July 16, 2008

I don’t frequent forums as much I use to because I find it so much harder to deal with stupid comments. Another reason why I don’t frequent forums, however, is because I often encounter people who I really think have the best intentions but who also have a hard time acknowledging the various privileges they have and questioning the biases they have. I think in order to help yourself and help others–I mean really help yourself and others, and not just give yourself a pat on the back–you have to recognize not only the oppression that occurs, but also your own relationship with the people you’re working with and perhaps even your role in the oppression.

I was having a discussion with one such person. She is a white woman who is also a non-Muslim. I honestly believe that she wants to help Muslim women. However, we got into an argument over the book Infidel by Ayaan Hirsi Ali. I don’t like the book for a lot of reasons, but the woman in question said that there aren’t enough books like Infidel: basically, books that discuss how Muslim women have to “overcome” oppressive cultures, perhaps leave Islam or just make it so watered down as to render it completely unrecognizable, fight those oppressive Muslim brutes with beards, escapes a whole lot of death threats and more.

I disagreed with that assertion for two reasons. The first is that there are so many books, articles, and website dedicated to Muslim women or former Muslim women who have agendas that seem to work more for conservative political agendas rather than equality for Muslim women. I don’t want to discount Hirsi Ali’s experiences, especially in regard to FGM and forced marriage (not to be confused with arranged marriages). However, I don’t think we should overlook the role of colonialism and neo-colonialism in the plight of Muslim women. Even certain practices like FGM have been aggravated by colonialism in some societies.

The second and bigger problem I have with that assertion is that it basically strips Muslim women of any control they have over the movement. Muslim women want to tell their stories in their own ways. We shouldn’t be forced into telling stories ultimately serve only two purposes: making Muslims look bad and making Western societies look great, while absolving them of any role in current problems that Muslim women in various countries face. I’m not being apologetic, nor am I saying that Muslims shouldn’t give themselves a cold, hard look in the mirror when looking at gender inequality. However, Muslim women’s stories shouldn’t be usurped to serve political and imperial purposes, nor should we be told to only tell stories where Muslim men are the boogie monsters and the West, including Western feminists, are our saviors. The oppression that Muslim men live under concerns us just as much as it does our brothers. After all, those men are our sons, our brothers, our fathers, and our husbands.

Additionally, we want to tell our stories in our own way. So yes, we will speak about “honor” killings and masajid that have poor or no accommodations for women, but we will also speak about war rapes that occur against Muslim women in Iraq, women having their privacy invaded everyday in the name of “security”, Western media that portrays Muslim women, especially those in hijab and niqab as “oppressed” and “weak” and more. By fighting all of these biases and oppressions, we show that we are not helpless. We are strong and we will write our own narrative.

July 14, 2008

I recently came across this report called Muslims Under Siege. It was written as an accompaniment to a BBC Channel 4 Dispatches show called It Shouldn’t Happen to a Muslim, which was aired last week. (Folks in the UK and Ireland can watch the show here; unfortunately, I’m in Canada and couldn’t access it myself.)

The report is definitely worth a read. It talks about rising Islamophobia (and the acceptability of Islamophobia) in the UK, and focuses heavily on the role of the media in perpetuating stereotypes and fears. These issues are certainly not new to most people reading this blog, but the extent to which the media had a role in grossly exaggerating and even falsifying information in certain cases was staggering even to this already-cynical reader.

But what does this have to do with representations of Muslim women in particular? Well, here’s the thing: not enough. The report focuses largely on stereotypes of Muslims as “terrorists” and other similar images. It looks at people’s fears of Islam and fears of what the rising numbers of Muslims will mean in Europe. Although the report is said to have been prompted by the kafuffle over Jack Straw’s comments in 2006 about women who cover their faces, it doesn’t look in much detail about the assumptions being made about women who choose to dress in certain ways, or about Muslim women in general. There are a few examples through the report of people assuming Islam to be oppressive to women (most often because of the headscarf), but these don’t form a large part of the analysis, and the gender issue is generally not touched upon.

What worries me isn’t so much the lack of emphasis on women; it’s that by not looking explicitly at the experience of Muslim women as a category of analysis, the “Muslim” experience or images that the report discusses are often actually those of Muslim men.

To try to illustrate this better: think of the first thing that comes to mind when you try to imagine a media stereotype about Muslims. Chances are this is going to be along the lines of “terrorist” or “fundamentalist.” (Chances are this “terrorist” is male.)

Now think of the first thing that comes to mind when you think of stereotypes of Muslim women. This might be more in the realm of “oppressed” or “veiled.”

Am I wrong? I’ve certainly seen this play out before (among Muslims asked similar questions), but maybe other groups of people are more creative.

The point is, women represent approximately half of the Muslim population. Why are the images of Muslims as oppressed relegated only to discussions of the female experience? Why do we assume that images of Muslims as terrorists reflect general stereotypes of Muslims as a whole, even though these assumptions are (by and large) being made mainly about Muslim men? What would it look like for the experiences of Muslim women (including the stereotypes that we come up against) to get equal airtime in conversations about “Muslim experiences,” rather than being limited primarily to the discussions about “Islam and women”? Or for us to acknowledge the terrorist stereotype as also a gendered image that mainly encompasses men? (Of course, no two people have exactly the same “Muslim experience,” regardless of their sex, and there are many more social categories that people fall into, so this is obviously simplified here.)

Going back to the report, its own title page features a woman in niqab. Headscarves, face coverings, and burqas form a huge component of the visual images used to illustrate stories of Islam as a scary, foreign religion. I would have loved to see this discussed in the report, or to see a wider analysis of the effects of images of Islam as oppressive towards so many of its followers. In general, I wish we could see more of that in articles on Islam, rather than having to search for the material on Muslim women in order to read more about the stereotypes facing half of Islam’s followers.

(On an optimistic note, I saw this article a few weeks ago and was struck by the fact that three people in hijab were referred to, respectively, as “a Canadian Muslim,” “an American high-school Muslim star runner” and “an 11-year-old Canadian kid.” Of course, we can assume all of these people to be female, since they all wear headscarves. I found it so refreshing though to see these young women talked about as “Muslims” rather than as specifically “Muslim women.” Maybe this use of language is one way to get these situations discussed as Muslim issues in general and not just as issues specific to women.)


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