July 1, 2010

June is exam time in North Africa. With some amusement, I read a link forwarded to me from an Algerian website about young women using their Bluetooths and hijab to cheat on their baccalaureate exams.  A quick Google search proved this was a pan-Maghreb thing, as Moroccan and Tunisian media has written on the subject.

In North African countries, the results of one’s baccalaureate exams are key to scoring increasingly scarce university places, both at home and abroad. So the stakes are quite high. Naturally, as tech girl, I set out to learn more about the techniques these girls use. As a Muslimah, I wanted to know how these girls are represented in the media as women who wear hijab.

The majority of articles imply that exam time can turn some girls into instant hijabis.  In the L’Expression article, certain girls were quoted as saying they were planning to wear hijab and/or jilbab for the express purpose of “increasing their chances” for passing their exams. In fact, the journalist cited in L’Expression mentioned that those caught cheating the most during last year’s exams wore headscarves, but gave no statistics.

I’m quite old school about hijab: I thought you didn’t need a Bluetooth because you could just stick your phone between your headscarf and your ear if it was pinned tight enough. The articles I read mentioned a series of tactics: from the modern day “Call-a-Friend” (whereby your Bluetooth connects you to someone outside of the classroom who reads you a lesson book) to those who record their lessons on their smart phones (either vocally or as files) and select them as necessary depending on the test questions.  The more old-school sisters like me can hide cheat sheets up their sleeves or in the folds of their jilbabs.

But the Bluetooth is turning into the option of choice. Six girls were kicked out of their exams this year in Algiers alone for using Bluetooth devices to cheat. Different campaigns take place to remind these sisters of what can happen if caught cheating, but all focused on the earthly, rather than spiritual, consequences (sanctions involved exclusion from future exams). Preemptive action is also taking place: in Algeria, girls with hijabs will have their heads frisked, while those in jilbab will be frisked by females.

None of the news sources I read mentioned anything about the potential spiritual implications of using hijab to cheat. Interestingly, forum discussions on the topic (bladi.net, marhba.com) were concerned exactly with this point: what is to make of girls who only wear hijab to cheat on exams?  What is to make of women who use the moral authority the hijab “confers” to cover up doubtful test-taking tactics?

While many news sources content themselves with just stating the facts, I felt it odd that they took it as a given that hijab was a natural storage place for Bluetooth, which may be due in fact to a blurring of the lines between cultural Islam and “Islam Islam” in countries with Muslim majorities.  The real issue for me is that, in the forum posts I read, a lot of questions were being asked by people trying to reconcile spiritual and worldly without being given much to go on.  Using hijabs to cheat is a new technological twist on the
“insta-hijab” credibility (when the mere donning of a hijab confers a status of holy and pious). In countries where hijab is allowed or tolerated in public spaces, what impact will this have on women who choose to wear it for reasons other than facilitating test scores?

March 11, 2010

Khan's book. Image via Rabble.ca.
Khan's book. Image via Rabble.ca.

Of Hockey and Hijab: Reflections of a Canadian Muslim Woman, published last October, is a collection of monthly columns written by Sheema Khan and originally printed in Canada’s Globe and Mail newspaper, between 2002 and 2009.  Khan, who founded the Canadian Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR-CAN), was born in India and moved to Montreal when she was young.  The short essays that form her book cover a range of topics, interweaving personal experiences of interfaith interactions and spiritual journeys as a Canadian Muslim woman with reflections on national and international political issues.

Overall, the writing is eloquent and engaging, and the content is informative and thought-provoking.  The book is structured as a compilation of pieces, none of which are more than two pages long, organized according to five themes:

  • The Highjacking of Islam
  • Living in Fear: Canadian while Muslim
  • Islam in the World
  • The Canadian Way
  • The Rights of Women

I found this structure took some time to get used to, since the pieces don’t all flow neatly together, and especially because the dates of the original articles weren’t given, leaving me to guess at how current the issues were at the time of writing.  At the same time, the compilation of short pieces makes it easy to take in the information in small amounts, and to skip back and forth between articles.

The book’s title refers not only (as I first assumed) to eye-roll-inducing cliches symbolizing Canada and Islam, but also to Khan’s own experience as a hijab-wearing woman who once spent many years playing intramural hockey at university.  The intersection of hockey and hijab (and the ensuing skeptical reactions from people who hear about it) has actually played out rather concretely in Khan’s life, making the title much more meaningful.

As for the second half of the title, “Reflections of a Canadian Muslim Woman,” it was nice to see that such reflections are not confined simply to Muslim women’s issues; while gender is brought up–as it should be–throughout the book, the other topics covered in the book demonstrate that, as a Canadian Muslim woman, Khan also has important reflections to share on many other issues.  Some of my favorite pieces included “The Abuse of Islamic Language,” in which Khan discusses the problems with the misuse of words like “jihad” by both Western media and Osama bin Laden; “Double Standards,” which looks at the unequal application of hate speech laws that are more likely to bar Muslim leaders from entering Canada than they are to affect Christian leaders with similar ideas; “Funny,” a call to Muslims to follow the example of the Prophet (peace be upon him) when responding to cartoons that depict him in an offensive way; and “The Soul in Science,” a description of Islamic examples of how science and religion can benefit one another.  She celebrates her religion as well as her country, while criticising the racism, sexism, and other forms of oppression found in both.

One of the elements of the book that most stuck out to me was Khan’s unapologetic expression of her commitment to Islam, and her argument that, if Canadian society takes seriously its commitment to diversity, it has to accept and respect Muslims (and, presumably, other people of faith) not only as cultural or ethnic communities, but also as communities with a certain spiritual outlook.  One especially interesting passage illustrated the challenge that this idea poses to some understandings of feminism, in response to the Quebec Council on the Status of Women’s call to ban public servants from wearing religious symbols (particularly the hijab and niqab):

Feminism is supposed to empower women to make their own choices.  Instead, the council has framed the road to freedom on its own terms: the secular way, or the highway.

This is nothing but fear.  In the 1960s, men feared strong women.  Today, it seems strong women are feared by women.  Assertive Muslim women do pose a challenge to feminism.  First, there is the embrace of religion, rather than its rejection, that makes many in the feminist establishment queasy. […]

The fear of Islam is revealed in calls to keep religion a private affair, locked away in our homes.  In the past, we tried to hide what we feared and felt ashamed of – for example, physical disability, homosexuality, mental illness.  Many were ostracized and suffered discrimination.  We realized how wrong it was to deny individuals full participation in society simply because they were different.  Now, there are those whose identity is defined primarily by their relationship to God.  Dare we deny them full rights? (pp. 143-144)

Later, Khan describes the negative reactions of many of her friends to her decision to become more religious, declaring her “brainwashed,” even though “before I ‘got religion,’ my friends thought my mind was perfectly fine” (p. 155).  She highlights some of the fault lines that exist between expressions of openness to all ideas and actual difficulties accepting certain ideas, particularly ones informed by religion.  Although this theme isn’t the focus of the book by any means, I thought it was one that she illustrated particularly well, in ways that many writings on racism and Islamophobia don’t always address.

Of course, I don’t agree with every single thing that Khan says, and that’s okay, but the one major criticism I have of this book is that I felt that Khan lets Canada and Canadian culture off the hook much too easily.  Although she talks about many different instances of racism that Canadian Muslims are currently facing, and even briefly addresses historical discrimination and oppression against other communities, she continues to point to Canada as a model society for diversity and dialogue, with the examples of oppression that she describes as serious but anomalous injustices in a society that is fundamentally just and accepting of all people.

It’s not that she doesn’t have some valuable examples to share of times when multiculturalism has worked, and has fostered friendships that might be impossible in some other places.  However, I would argue that racism, exclusions, and marginalization are all much more deeply rooted within Canadian societies and institutions, both historically and currently, than Khan suggests, and I think that her book could have greatly benefited from a more systemic anti-racist analysis of Canadian multiculturalism.

Although much of its focus is on the Canadian context, there is enough about general issues related to Islam or to global politics that would likely be of interest to  a much broader audience beyond Canada’s borders.  All in all, this was an interesting read, and definitely a worthwhile book, one that would be accessible and informative for both Muslims and non-Muslims.

March 3, 2010

There are certain stories newspapers here in the U.K. love. Anything that can be classed as “a waste of taxpayer’s money” is guaranteed to find its way into print, even more so if it involves something “frivolous” like artwork. And, as has been noticed previously at MMW, the media also has a fascination with Muslim women’s clothing.

So if there is a story that combines both these fixations, it’s bound to generate a lot of print.

A mock-up of how the Hijab Gate will look. Image via Daily Express website.
A mock-up of how the Hijab Gate will look. Image via Daily Express website.

Tower Hamlets Council has recently put forward a proposal to build two “Hijab Gates” (pictured at left) at either end of Brick Lane (also known as “Banglatown”). The gates will cost £1.85 million to build, all of which will come from public funds. “Hijab-gate,” anyone?*

In such difficult economic times, it is expected that such expenditure be questioned. However, looking at the media reports, it would appear that money isn’t the biggest issue. Even the aesthetics of the design are not the main cause of controversy.

What is really causing consternation is the choice of Muslim symbol, even in an area with a sizable Muslim population. The Daily Express thunders that such plans are “Pandering to Islam.” Note the usage of the word Islam rather than Muslims–all the better to give the impression of a monolithic entity.

But Tower Hamlets Council is quoted in this piece and others as stating that the headscarf is not solely a Muslim garment but one worn by many different communities.
(more…)

February 8, 2010

In her new book, entitled Visibly Muslim: Fashion, Politics, Faith, Emma Tarlo captures the diversity in the way that Islam is practiced against the backdrop of multi-cultural Britain. Refreshingly, the book did not aim to answer whether or not covering was a part of Islam, and neither did it represent the views of Muslim women as a monolithic body.

Tarlo's book. Image via Amazon.com
Tarlo's book. Image via Amazon.com

In her book, Tarlo shows a snapshot of the way in which the veil has manifested itself within the Muslim population of Britain. In focusing on the way that different Muslim women struggle to find common ground between various identities, and the reactions of those around them, Tarlo looks at the veil as a part of the changing dynamics of members of a newer community, rather than an exposé that aims to penetrate the “secret world of Muslim women.”

Within the book, Tarlo moves from discussing high-profile Muslim women, to fashion, the hijab as a part of politics, and the fluid relationship between culture and religion. She does not gloss over the difficulties in finding a bridge between identities. When I saw the words “fashion” and “veil” together, I was worried that I would be confronted with a piece that would merely wax poetic about the intricate embroidery of hijab and the wonderful colors and trends that are starting to rival the Western fashion industry. Instead, Tarlo does depict changing fashions for Muslim women, but rather as a part of personal journeys. Furthermore, she analyzes the discourse surrounding the emerging market for “modest fashion.”

(more…)

January 13, 2010

This post was written by Jillian C. York, and originally published in the Winter 2009 issue of Bitch magazine.

Muslim women, as a group, don’t lack for media attention, but to say their representation in mass media is lopsided would be an understatement: They’re the subject of political, religious, and feminist debates, but their own voices are nearly invisible in the mainstream media, in film, and in books. But the one place Muslim women–in particular, muhajabat, or wearers of the hijab–are perhaps the most ignored is in the world of fashion.

It’s not that, as many might assume, women who sport the headscarf don’t care about fashion. But it’s got to be frustrating to be a muhajabah in a world of miniskirts and booty shorts. When your religious beliefs dictate a well-covered person but the mainstream fashion magazines are more like 80% bare skin and 20% clothing, you won’t be turning to Elle for advice on, say, matching a red hijab with black pants.

But without a mainstream outlet, some muhajabat have taken media matters into their own hands–or, more specifically, their blogs. With names like Stylish Muslimah, Hijabi Couture, and Hijabulous, these online fashion forums serve a dual purpose–they explain and demystify Muslim dress codes for novice muhajabat and curious outsiders, and they cull the web for fashion that can be adapted to their needs. Hijabs High, for instance, patterns itself after seen-on-the-street fashion blog The Sartorialist, with snapshots of stylish women from Singapore to Washington, D.C., posted as inspiration. The blogger behind Stylish Muslimah (“The Muslim Vogue”) assembles youthful, on-trend outfits with precise detail and links to online outlets where all the pieces can be found. And We Love Hijab highlights fashion-forward for plunds up seasonal trends in scarves, and even offers a hijab-specific version of What Not to Wear. (Sheath dresses: yea or nay?)

Perhaps the best part of hijabblogs is the sheer sense of positivity they put forth. Hijabs High says it best: The blog, its proprietor writes, “is inspired by the stylish and dynamic global community of Muslim women who fuse their identities and pronounce their place in the world everyday through beauty and fashion. It is my hope that this blog inspires, motivates, and encourages Muslims and non-Muslims alike to revisit their perceptions of the ‘look’ of Muslim women who wear the veil and encourage us all to be a little more fabulous.”

December 17, 2009

Recently, The Christian Science Monitor published a series of articles centered around the hijab. While I appreciated the valiant effort to offer some insight into the discourse around the hijab and the lives of Muslim women, it ultimately left me frustrated.

The articles treat the headscarf as the heart of women’s issues in Islam. Centering on the practice of veiling makes it appear central to women’s issues and ultimately glosses over the realities and depths of the problems that Muslim women may face in the world. While the hijab may serve as a symbol, the real issue lies with the relationship between socioeconomic factors and religious interpretation. That diversity felt marginalized by this series.

The first article, titled “The veil, the Koran, and the Muslim women’s movement” and written by the Monitor’s Editorial Board, looked at the involvement of women within the discourse surrounding Islam. The article opens with a statement about the hijab not being mentioned in the Qur’an. After this, the article says:

A Muslim woman, then, should have the freedom to cover her hair – or not. But that is not the case in a country like Saudi Arabia. The Koran also supports a woman’s right to own and inherit property, to be educated, and to choose her husband – but not all societies in the Muslim universe of 1.5 billion people recognize these rights.

(more…)

October 28, 2009

Today is Pink Hijab Day, a day to encourage awareness of breast cancer in conjunction with National Breast Cancer Awareness Month in October.  Pink Hijab Day was founded in 2007 by a group of Muslim women from Missouri who wanted to promote Islam and breast cancer awareness at their high school.  In the couple of years since its inception, Pink Hijab Day has expanded both across the United States and across the world.  From the Day’s website:

Pink Hijab Day is intended to shatter stereotypes of Muslim women, as well as raise awareness and funds for breast cancer research.  All over the world, Muslims participated by wearing pink hijabs, pink ribbons, and donating to breast cancer foundations.

The stigma associated with breast cancer in Middle Eastern countries has been well-documented by the media recently with former First Lady Laura Bush’s 2007 trip to the Middle East to promote awareness of the illness in the region.  In June of 2006, the State Department established the US-Middle East Partnership for Breast Cancer Awareness and Research to help promote awareness of the disease collaboratively.  In an interview with Good Morning America in 2007, Bush says:

I feel it’s very important for people in the Middle East to know that people in the United States care about health and especially women’s health, because it’s still embarrassing and they’re fearful and shamed like we were over 25 years ago.

In the United States, Muslim women still do not perform breast self-examinations or seek mammograms at the same rate as the population at large, according to a 2005 study that looked at screening practices of Muslim women in California.  Efforts like Pink Hijab Day that aim to raise awareness of the disease in women, both here and internationally, and reduce the stigma associated with it are a laudatory cause.

And with that, I’d like to conclude my post with a quote from Audre Lorde’s The Cancer Journals, a collection of articles that looks at the author’s own personal experience with breast cancer between the seventies and eighties in the United States:

Every woman has a militant responsibility to involve herself with her own health.  We owe ourselves the protection of all the information we can acquire about the treatment of cancer and its causes as well as about the recent findings concerning immunology, nutrition, environment, and stress.  And we owe ourselves his information before we may have a reason to use it.


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