Jason Kenney: New Grand Mufti of Canada

Dear Mr. Jason Kenney,

Thank you for informing the entire nation that you have nominated yourself Grand Mufti (Islamic scholar) of Canada, and have already dispensed your first fatwah (religious ruling)!

Your arrogance and your ignorance in assuming that you know Islamic law well enough to state that "Muslim women don't wear veils during Hajj" and therefore are allowed to remove them for the citizenship ceremony (without realizing that Islamic law states that there is a very special exception for removing the veils during the pilgrimage), is both laughable and insulting beyond belief.
Oh, and let's not forget that you also feel that you have the right to publicly call my belief and practice of wearing the veil as "bizarre." Can I expect you to say the same about the kirpan, turban, and Jewish skull cap next?

Similarly, the attitudes assumed by many journalists - ranging from "we are liberating Muslim women from their own oppressive beliefs!" to "how dare Muslim women have beliefs different from ours! We must stop this outrage immediately!" (accompanied by broadly generalizing statements such as "Muslim women who wear the veil keep themselves aloof and don't believe in gender equality) - are patronizing, offensive, and display a deliberate lack of knowledge regarding why some Muslim women wear the veil.

I wonder what Mr. Kenney's real reasons are for banning the veil - is it really about gender equality, fundamental Canadian principles, and "an open society"? Or is it just a public expression of our government's increasing xenophobia against all that is not white and Judeo-Christian?

Many years ago, my mother took the oath of citizenship while wearing her veil. So did my mother-in-law. It's a good thing that I was born a Canadian citizen, because otherwise I suppose that Mr. Kenney would like to stop me from being an equal member of Canadian society as well (no matter that I have lived in Canada all my life and consider it my true home). Then again, who knows - with the freedom-loving Mr. Kenney at the helm, he may one day decide that I am too much of a threat to Canada's "open society" and that I should be stripped of my citizenship due to my outrageous decision to wear the veil.

Thankfully, there remain some conscientious, courageous journalists who have rightly criticized Mr. Kenney's creation of and solution for a nonexistent problem. If Mr. Kenney is so concerned about actually hearing veiled Muslim women reciting the oath of citizenship, why not simply have them speak into a microphone? Ah, but that's too simple, and gosh darn it, we have to get those veils OFF somehow!

Reading the comments on the veil-related news articles online breaks my heart. Canadians, my fellow citizens, the people I grew up with, live next to, and smile at everyday (yes, you can tell I'm smiling even though I'm wearing a veil), are vilifying me and telling me in no uncertain terms (and with quite a few racist Islamophobic epithets thrown in) that they do not care about who I really am, how I contribute to society, or how much I love Canada. Instead, they have turned me into a stereotype - a threat, a victim, to be obliterated or liberated depending on how they view me. They are also telling me that I am not welcome, not unless I sacrifice my spiritual beliefs and conform to what THEY believe is "right." So much for welcoming diversity, for celebrating multiculturalism, for freedom of religion.

No, this is the new Canada. This new Canada tells us that any expression of "difference" is bad; that if you publicly display your faith, you are a threat; that there is only one way to be Canadian, and that is to behave exactly as the government demands.

This new Canada scares me.

RELATED:

A letter I sent to reporter Dan Gardner of the Ottawa Citizen, reproduced here on his website:
http://www.dangardner.ca/index.php/notes/item/232-on-faces-and-veils

Full text below:

Hi Dan,

While reading your column "The Canvas of Emotion," I felt the annoyance that usually comes over me whenever people start talking about how the niqab (veil) is this, that, or the other.

That annoyance has not faded. Though I appreciate your honesty about how you really feel about the veil, and what you think it really is, I remain frustrated that you have not taken the time to research more deeply why some Muslim women wear the veil, and the reasons given for its practice within Islamic Law. At the very least, could you not have contacted a Muslim woman who wears the veil? After all, you do live in Ottawa, where the veil isn't entirely uncommon.

In any case, since you didn't take the time to learn more about the veil from someone who wears one, I have taken the time to come to you.

First of all, let me tell you a little about myself. My name is Zainab. I'm 21 years old, and although I currently live overseas, I was born a Canadian citizen and spent every year of my life there (except for the last two). I am a passionate believer in social justice and a fierce feminist. I've been writing since I was 14 - fiction, poetry, and articles for newspapers, blogs, and magazines. I am both independent and outspoken.

I am a Muslim woman, and I started wearing the veil when I turned 17, after years of begging my mom (who also wears it) to let me (shocking, huh? A teenage girl being forbidden from wearing the veil, not being forced into it!).

I do not wear the veil to segregate myself from society; I do not wear it to "smother my identity"; I do not wear it to remain aloof from others or assume that I'm better than them, or any of the other theories that so many journalists have been sharing within the last two days.

No. I wear it because first of all, I believe that God commanded it. In the Qur'an, the veil has three purposes: to test just how far you'll go to obey God; to identify yourself as a Muslim woman; and for the sake of modesty. (Specific Qur'anic verse: http://quran.com/33/59)

To expand a little upon the last point, it has nothing to do with Islam considering all women to be wicked seductresses bent on luring innocent men into frenzies of lust. Instead, it has to do with Islam's concern for societal welfare.
Men and women are allowed to interact in any number of settings, whether it be for business, education, or otherwise, but there are certain limits placed on those interactions.
By restricting men's ability to physically assess a woman's face or body and treat her according to how attractive he considers her (a human-nature practice studied and proven extensively in psychology), they are forced to deal with the woman on purely intellectual terms: her ideas and her actions.

In this kind of setting, no man can ever make judgments about a woman based on her physical features (like, oh, I don't know... how about promoting a woman just because she's got bigger boobs than the competition? Don't tell me this doesn't happen in the corporate world.)

Now, with regards to the claims you make about the veil - that it cuts off one's identity; that communication is hindered and restricted; that the ability to emotionally connect disappears - I can say with full confidence that while it might make sense theoretically, in reality none of those things take place.

I went to school, to the mall, to the park, to every place imaginable while wearing the veil. I hiked, I debated, I studied, I smiled and said "good morning" to passers-by... and they were all able to recognize that I was interacting with them and reaching out emotionally. My teachers, classmates, and neighbours never saw my face, but that didn't mean that they didn't trust me less; that they felt cut off from me or separated from me.

I built both short-term and long-term relationships - whether with the librarian or the grocery store clerk; my favourite teacher or the mailman.

Identity, emotions, and expressions of the two are not limited to facial features. In a society which is no longer tribal but cyber-connected, this is evidenced in the popularity of web forums, text messaging and more, we have effectively proven that there are practically no more barriers that hinder communication. When walking around veiled, people could easily tell if I was happy or sad, smiling or frowning. That's because body language involves more than just facial expressions (which, by the way, you can detect on a veiled woman because you can still see her eyes).

Muslim women may cover their faces; but that doesn't stop us from talking or taking action. And as I was taught in kindergarten, we deal with people based on how they act, not how they look.

You may be interested in taking a look at thiese webpage (video, article, and comments) to get a better idea of the issue of veiling amongst Muslims (and especially how it does not stop us from being normal, functional, friendly human beings!):

http://muslimmatters.org/2011/04/12/cnn-hebah-ahmed-muslimmatters-blogger-debates-mona-eltahawy-over-french-niqab-burka-ban/

and

http://muslimmatters.org/2011/04/17/open-letter-to-mona-from-a-very-visible-niqaabi-to-her-self-appointed-champion/

(Yes, I wrote this one.)

I sincerely hope that you are able to consider the reality of veiled Muslim women over psychological hypotheses (which might sound fancy and all, but don't actually translate into real life), and realize that there's more going on behind the veil (as though this pun isn't overused already... *sigh*) than what you think.
-Zainab bint Younus (aka AnonyMouse)

Heather Mallick - Speaking Up for Shy Young Girls, or Talking Down to Bright Young Women?

Heather Mallick (of the Toronto Star) attempts to champion young Muslim girls (especially menstruating ones) but completely misses the mark - here.

I wrote this letter to her in response:

Hi Heather,

I just read your piece in the Star, titled “Someone has to speak up for young girls.”

In it, you used the current brouhaha about young Muslims offering Friday prayers at school to focus your criticism on Islam’s alleged “stigmatization” of menstruating girls. Unfortunately, you made many ignorant statements that will only fuel the continued anger against Islam and Muslims, and which frustrate people like myself who work hard daily to educate others about the truth about Islam.

First of all, I am a young Canadian Muslim woman. I am proud of my religion, and I’m proud of being a woman. Let me explain just how and where you went wrong in your indignant article, for the claims you make hurt me both as a Muslim and as a woman.

To start with, the Islamic Friday prayers are a special event: a gathering of brothers and sisters in faith, a special taking-time-away from our chaotic lives for spiritual reminders and uplifting. It is a weekly occasion that we look forward to, purifying ourselves physically and dressing up in our best to worship God communally.

These Friday prayers, called “Jumu’ah” in Arabic, are obligatory upon men but not upon women, although it is highly encouraged for us. Now, before you jump to the conclusion that this is the first example of “sexism” in Islam, let me explain why this is. Men are forcibly enjoined to attend because their daily responsibility is usually of a financial turn, something which they can leave easily enough. However, it is understood that most women have children to look after, a duty that cannot be put aside as easily as men can leave work. (Before you also try to point out the “backwards gender stereotyping” this may imply, please look at statistics in the West that prove that women continue to be the main guardians and caregivers for children.) Menstruating women have the option of attending the Friday prayers or not, to listen to the sermon and feel the spiritual connection of brotherhood and sisterhood. They are not forbidden from sitting with everyone else at all, but rather are welcomed in the midst. Rather, it is only the formal prayers that they are exempted from (reasons will be explained below).

Secondly, as for men and women praying separately, this is not in any way a suggestion that Islam denigrates women or relegates them to second-class status. Rather, the arrangement of group prayer takes into consideration the positions that are observed during Islamic prayer, and consideration for human nature itself. For example, there is a period of time during prayer where one will be bowing down, and then go into prostration on the ground. Basically, this means that you’ll be on the ground with your butt in the air. And really, are you going to tell me that when you’re trying to communicate with God, but in a somewhat awkward position, you wouldn’t be more comfortable knowing that you’re surrounded by other women than by men? I know for a fact that women’s yoga classes are usually filled up because of the fact that it’s so much less embarrassing to twist yourself into a pretzel when there isn’t a guy checking out your butt.

Also, as a Muslim woman, I savour this precious time during which I feel a deep connection with my fellow women. I love sitting with my sisters in faith, listening to the same words, performing the same actions (without any distracting thoughts of “does my butt look big in this abayah?”), and knowing that in the Sight of God, all of us present – men and women – are equal before Him.

Thirdly, menstruating women are not “singled out” or “stigmatized” because of their menses. Islam places great emphasis on physical purity; before any Muslim may offer formal prayers, they must offer the ablutions called “wudhu.” In some cases, such as the one who has just had sex, they must take a full shower (the “ghusl”) before they may pray. This doesn’t mean that they are considered “dirty” or “unclean,” but is rather of the etiquettes that Islam calls for when one is engaging in direct communication and worship of God.

Menstruating women and women experiencing post-partum bleeding are exempted from formal prayers for the duration of their bleeding. Again, this is not a way of putting us down, but rather is a mercy and blessing from God. Rather than feeling excluded from prayer, it is actually both an opportunity and a challenge. When one is jerked out of a regular cycle of praying five times a day at appointed times to worship God, you strive to look deeper into ways of connecting with Him. Indeed, menstruation is neither “mysterious” nor “shameful”; in Islam, it is accepted as a part of life, a blessing from God, a sign of health and fertility.

Finally, in your article you’re portraying yourself as some kind of spokeswoman for Muslim girls. Please don’t. To be honest, there were so many offensive and insulting statements in your piece that I don’t know where to start. Suffice it to say that as a young Muslim woman, who has spent my entire life – including those tough teen years – in Canada, almost everything you said that was aimed at the Muslim girls you’re trying to champion, was in fact humiliating.

From implying that we don’t know how to use tampons (really? Do you actually think we live in the Middle Ages or something?), to insinuating that Muslim girls are just a bunch of shy helpless damsels in distress, you are displaying your own ignorance and qualities of a misogynist, not a feminist.

If you really want to hear the voices of Muslim girls, if you want to know what we really think and what we have to say, then why don’t you actually ask us instead? By assuming that only you can speak up for us, you are in fact guilty of what you accuse our fellow Muslims of doing: silencing us, dumbing us down, and rejecting our intellect.

We are Muslim women, and we have a voice. Let it be heard!

Sincerely,

Zainab bint Younus Kathrada

Victoria, B.C., Canada