Podcast Interview with Shaykha Aysha Wazwaz

My first official podcast has been published - an interview with the incredible Shaykha Aysha Wazwaz, an American Muslim woman who pursued formal Islamic studies and has gone on to become an active teacher and activist in her community.

Shaykha Aysha Wazwaz is an American-born Muslim woman who studied Islamic Law at Al-Quds University in Jerusalem, Palestine, and then returned to America to further her Islamic education. She has a B.A. in Islamic Studies, an M.A. in Contemporary Islamic Studies, and is a PhD Candidate in Islamic Studies at Jinan University. In addition to having had a great deal of teaching experience around the world, including holding women’s classes in Masjid al-Aqsa itself, she is the CEO and founder of Gems of Light, an online Islamic university for women. 

Shaykha Aysha's story is important to hear not just for women, but for men as well. She imparts excellent advice that is applicable to both genders, and highlights the importance of having women of Islamic knowledge in our communities.

https://soundcloud.com/anonymouse-al-majnoonah/the-salafi-feminist-interview-with-shaykha-aysha-wazwaz

Sh Muhammad Akram Nadwi on Female Leadership

This won't be too detailed, but a really interesting tidbit from Sh Akram:

With regards to the hadith of Abu Bakra about how a nation will never succeed if they are led by a woman, it has been taken greatly out of context and misunderstood.

The full story is that RasulAllah (sallAllahu 'alayhi wa sallam) sent a letter of da'wah to the Kisrah, who tore up the letter. In response, RasulAllah (sallAllahu 'alayhi wa sallam) made du'a that his empire be torn up just as he tore up the letter. Shortly after, Kisrah died, and his daughter was elected the ruler. When RasulAllah (sallAllahu 'alayhi wa sallam) heard the news, he made the remark that is so well known today - "Never will a people be successful who give their leadership to a woman."

However, what is not taken into consideration is that he was remarking *very specifically* about the nation of Kisrah - that *they* (a people who had made a woman their leader) would never be successful, not because their leader was a woman, but because RasulAllah (sallAllahu 'alayhi wa sallam) had made du'a for their entire empire to be destroyed.
Specifying "a people... who give their leadership to a woman" was merely referring to the people of Kisrah, whom (it appears) were unique at the time for having a female leader. Yet it must be understood that the hadith of Abu Bakra is not a blanket statement to be used at preventing women from having *any* positions of authority.

As a side note - Abu Bakra was the sole Sahabi to use this hadith as an evidence against recognizing or acknowledging A'ishah's leadership in the Battle of the Camel. If, truly, the hadith was meant as a general statement against women being leaders at all, then surely the many, many other Sahabah who were still alive at that time would have used it as an evidence against A'ishah and used it to warn her that she was not allowed to assume leadership of men. Instead, numerous Companions of RasulAllah (sallAllahu 'alayhi wa sallam) accompanied her, and even those who opposed her politically during that time did not ever use this statement against her.

One point that Sh Akram made in his explanation of the hadith on female leadership was that sometimes RasulAllah used a general phrase while referring to a specific individual.
There was another incident wherein this can also be found:

Abu Hurairah (radhiAllahu 'anhu) narrated a hadith which said, "The child of zina is the worst of the three."
When A'ishah (radhiAllahu 'anha) heard about this, she said, "May Allah forgive Abu Hurairah! He did not hear correctly and thus he is not teaching correctly. The hadith was not said like this. Rather, there was once a man from the hypocrites of Medinah who used to verbally abuse RasulAllah (sallAllahu 'alayhi wa sallam) a great deal. This eventually upset him, and he asked his Companions, 'Who amongst you is willing to protect me from this man?' They told him, 'This man, in addition to his already ugly character, is also a child of zina.' Thereupon RasulAllah commented, 'The child of zina (i.e. this man) is the worst of the three (i.e. even worse than his parents, who committed the sin of zina).'"

Thus we can see that out of a certain type of eloquence (and tact), a general phrase was used by RasulAllah that was known and understood by all his Companions in attendance to refer to a specific individual.

And Allah knows best.

Women Just Want to Have Fun(damental Rights)

On the topic of female scholarship, there is so much to be said that no FB post or Twitter rant could really take all factors & aspects into consideration or give it justice.
Today, though, my musing is on whether it's enough to say "where are the female scholars?" & to provide a list of names, and what deeper issues there are related to the matter.

One of the main issues we have in this Ummah is that so many of the teachings & attitudes we have propagated about women are harmful & reductive - & it's not just men who are teaching this, but women as well. In fact, most of us women have probably heard the pearls & diamonds hijab analogies from other women; had our mothers, grandmothers, or aunties tell us that women are simply inferior to men. It is 'women of knowledge' who tell us that marriage is built on subservience to husbands, that we must "be patient" with abuse, that if we speak out about the horrors we experience, we are endangering our own afterlives. It is women who perpetuate FGM and abuse their daughters-in-law; women who raise misogynistic men; women who see other women and view them as enemies rather than sisters.

So no, merely having 'women of knowledge' doesn't automatically mean that the lot of Muslim women at large will improve. Often, we are our own worst enemies.

However - we still do need female scholars, for so many reasons.

We need female scholars who *know* the reality of womanhood, who are intimately acquainted with the biological and psychological realities of living in a world where being born female automatically puts us at risk of violence and devastation.

We need women who are ready & willing to break away from the chauvinistic attitudes that have been passed off as "Islam" for so long; women who love the Qur’an & Sunnah, women who are educated in our tradition of knowledge - & women who are principled enough to call BS when they see it.

We need women scholars in the spirit of A'ishah (radhiAllahu 'anha), Umm adDardaa' asSughra, Kareema al Baghdadiyyah, A'ishah bint Tal'ha... women who never confused Islamic knowledge with personal opinions or cultural attitudes about women - women who challenged those who tried to normalize chauvinism as Islamic evidence.

We need women scholars who will support & stand up for justice, who will not allow our voices to be silenced in the name of 'piety' or 'modesty,' women who are not shy to assert their presence not only as women amongst women, but women as full-fledged members of this Ummah, whose joys & sorrows & pain & challenges & intellectual contributions are as valid & legitimate as those of men.

We do not need the permission of men to exist, to study, to teach, to be empowered and to empower other women. We are half the Ummah figuratively, but we have allowed ourselves to be treated as though we barely exist.
More than ever, it is necessary for us to remember that our own courage and determination (and tawakkul upon Allah) is all we need to take back the spaces that we have a right to in this Ummah. (Regardless of how many bros then try to accuse us of tantrumming or being SJW's when we assert ourselves...)

#femalescholarship
#justthetipoftheiceberg

You Are Your Own Strongest Advocate

You are your own strongest advocate.

Women who go to imams and shuyookh seeking khul' or faskh or resolution for any other issue are often turned away or brushed off with non-committal shrugs and not followed up on.
But here's the thing. You can either sit there meekly and say, "Okay," and walk away without your issue resolved or without receiving justice... or you can sit there and say, "No, I know my Islamic rights and I'm not budging until I get them. And I WILL hold you accountable and follow up until it's done."

There are so many imams who don't expect this response, who expect us to just accept whatever excuses are thrown at us, who know just how well Muslim women have been trained to unquestioningly accept the statements of a man of (perceived) religious authority.

They *don't* expect us to pursue our Islamic rights, or to even know what they are. *We* must educate ourselves, do our research, and *not* back down. They won't be happy, but when they know that they can't just wave you away, they'll also feel the pressure to actually take the case seriously.

Note: this obviously doesn't apply to all cases. #NotAllImams and whatnot.
Also, actually do your research and make sure that you do know what you're talking about before you go in there, so that you're not bamboozled by something being passed off as "the strongest opinion" when it's actually just a fringe opinion or summat.

Unbreakable: The Spirit of Hajar

IN A BARREN desert, under a blistering sun, a

woman leaned against the trunk of a twisted tree, cradling her infant and trying to shield him from the merciless elements. With only a small water-skin and a bag of dates that was already worrisomely light, she watched as her husband turned his back on her and walked away. As he drew further and further away, she couldn’t bear it anymore. “Are you leaving us?” she called out to him. She received no response; the only sound was that of his footsteps in the sand, leaving behind no footprints. “Are you leaving us in this valley, where there is no one and nothing?” she cried out again, looking down at her son’s tiny face. Her heart lurched with panic at the idea of being alone in this empty place, desolate as it was – and then, almost instantly, another thought occurred to her and her heart leapt instead with a sense of certainty. Intuitively, she knew that despite the circumstances, nothing would harm her or her son; something greater awaited her, though she had no idea what it was.

“Has Allah commanded you to do this?” she asked, her voice steady. The man paused, and nodded. “Then He will never neglect us,” she said quietly.

Unseen by Hâjar, her husband smiled sadly and then, when he was out of sight, raised his hands in supplication.

Our Lord, I have settled some of my descendants in an uncultivated valley near Your sacred House, our Lord, that they may establish prayer. So make hearts among the people incline toward them and provide for them from the fruits that they might be grateful. [Sûrat Ibrâhîm, 14:37]

Behind him, leaning against the tree, Hâjar (English: Hagar) prepared herself for a future which held far more than she could ever imagine. I am satisfied to be with Allah, she murmured, [i] and knew that no matter how empty the desert was around her, she would never be truly alone.

In that one moment, this woman’s intuition, and her trust and certainty in her Lord, made her one of the greatest individuals in all of history. Hâjar went from being an unknown slave woman in Egypt to a symbol of spiritual conviction, deep insight, and decisive action. Although she is best known as the wife of Prophet Ibrahim and the mother of Ismâᶜîl (English: Ishmael), she was recognized by Allah and His Messenger in her own right.

Her story is one of those which we repeat often, familiar to us all, and yet one which holds so much more for us than merely the rote lessons we have been taught. Her words, echoing in the desert, rang strong with tawakkul (reliance) upon Allah, but her words were far more than a hollow spiritual mantra.

Hâjar was a woman who did not allow her circumstances to overwhelm or control her; she was not content to simply declare faith in God while remaining passive. Instead, Hâjar exemplified what it meant to be pro-active and determined even in the face of obstacles seemingly impossible to overcome. Stranded in the desert, surrounded by sand and little else, with a child dependent upon her for survival, Hâjar was not content to remain idle or to surrender herself to the seemingly inevitable, or to await a miracle from the heavens to be handed to her. She seized control where there was little to be had.  Determined to find something to change her condition, she strode between Safa and Marwa, unrelenting in her persistence. She was acutely aware of the fact that her position was not an easy one, and that her son’s life was in jeopardy. No doubt, it would have been all too easy for her to break down into tears, to allow herself to be a victim of circumstances, or to be paralyzed by fear. However, Hâjar chose instead to place her trust in Allah and actively pursued a course of action which –though it may have seemed futile to anyone watching– exemplified her spirit of resilience and purposefulness.

Nor did she give up after one or two attempts, and accept failure as an option –or as the likely outcome. Seven times – in the blazing heat, her infant’s wails ringing in her ears even as the land around her remained deafeningly silent – seven times did Hâjar ascend the hillocks of Ṣafa and Marwa, seven times did she struggle to seek sustenance and aid for herself and her child, seven times did she push herself past the limits of her weariness and her worry… Then, and only then, once she had done everything she possibly could, did Allah send the angel Jibrîl (English: Gabriel) from the seven heavens to the earth, to dig his wingtip into the parched earth and release the flowing waters of Zamzam.

Yet even then, as the pure, crystalline liquid poured over her hands, Hâjar didn’t allow herself to get swept up in the moment. With brilliant foresight, she knelt down and formed the first boundaries of what will forever be known as the Well of Zamzam.

And even when Allah fulfilled the du¢â’ of Ibrahim by sending the tribe of Jurhum to settle in that once-barren land, Hâjar never let herself become complacent or naively think that all her problems were solved. “You may use the water,” she told the tribes people, “but it will always belong to me and my son.” Her words were a sign of her shrewd foresight; not only was she protecting herself and Ismâᶜîl, but she was preserving a miraculous legacy for all of humankind. The waters of Zamzam remain safeguarded and cherished as a reminder of Allah’s innumerable blessings even in times of severe tribulation.

May Allah have mercy on the mother of Ismâᶜîl! The Prophet supplicated for her,  [ii]   and we too echo his words –for in Hâjar we have the most beautiful and enduring story of a believer’s test of faith in a hopeless time, a single parent’s struggle for survival against all odds.

Today, the Muslim Ummah has many others like Hâjar, single mothers and single fathers alike; those who have found themselves unexpectedly on their own, stranded by fate in circumstances beyond their choosing, and left with only their trust in Allah and their own indomitability to help them traverse this unforeseen destiny.

These women and men are an example for us all: like Hâjar, they do not let themselves be victims of circumstances, but are determined to find a solution regardless of how hopeless their plight may seem. They rely upon Allah, knowing that He is Al-Razzâq (the Provider), and knowing also that He will not change the situation of a person unless they change themselves.[iii]  In a world where it is increasingly difficult to raise a family, these single parents push themselves beyond what many of us could imagine –unfaltering in their belief in their Lord, their desire to raise their children to love Him and worship Him, and to protect them from the harsh realities of poverty, social injustice, and more.

Alas, many Muslims do not honor these heroes and heroines of our Ummah as they deserve to be honored. Far too many of us view single parents as somehow lacking, or less worthy of respect. We do not realize that the struggles they are experiencing are in fact the same ones that Hâjar went through herself –for which she was honored by the Lord of the Worlds, Who decreed that it was obligatory for every Muslim to follow in her footsteps between Ṣafa and Marwa during both Hajj and Umrah. How can we claim to fulfill the spirit of the pilgrimages if our feet travel between those two mountains, yet our hearts remain unmoved by the greatness of Hâjar, and all those who embody her spirit on a daily basis?

Hâjar is a woman whose story is an inspiration to us all, whether single parents or otherwise. She was an individual who refused to take on the identity of victimization, an attitude of helplessness, or acceptance of failure; she knew that while Allah would never abandon her, she could not abandon herself either. No matter what difficult straits we find ourselves in – financial, emotional, or otherwise – it is Hâjar whom we should remember when we are tempted to surrender ourselves to a sense of defeat. Her taqwa, her tawakkul, and her spirit of resilience was stronger than the landscape she traversed: a true heroine of Islam.

——————————————-

[i] http://sunnah.com/bukhari/60/44

[ii] http://sunnah.com/bukhari/60/43

[iii] Sûrat Al-Ra¢d, 13:11

Speaking Truth to Power: The Eloquence of the Prophet's Granddaughter

AHL-BAYT – the family of Prophet Muhammad,–those bound to him by blood and by marriage, those whom he spoke of in his sermon at Khumm:

And the people of my household, I remind you of Allah with regard to the people of my household! I remind you of Allah with regard to the people of my household, I remind you of Allah with regard to the people of my household. (Muslim)

And how can we uphold the rights of Ahl Al-Bayt without knowing who they are? We commonly know about the wives of the Prophet and we know of his grandsons Al-Ḥassan and Al-Ḥussain, but many of us do not know about the one granddaughter of the Prophet who played an important role during a turbulent period of Islamic history.

Amongst the Women of Ahl Al-Bayt

This woman was Zaynab bint Ali ibn Abi Ṭâlib. Sadly, her name and personality are unfamiliar to many of us, though she was the granddaughter of the Prophet, the daughter of Fâṭimah bint Muhammad  and Ali ibn Abi Ṭâlib.

She was born in the year 5 AH, during the lifetime of the Prophet  and was in fact named by him, after his daughter and her aunt, Zaynab bint Muhammad . She was the third child of Fatimah—daughter of the Prophet —and Ali—nephew and son-in-law of the Prophet —born after her brothers Al-Hassan and Al-Hussein. Though the Prophet  died when she was about five years old, her love for him never waned.

As she grew older, many sought her hand in marriage, desiring to be joined with the family of the Messenger of Allah . However, her father waited until a man of equal standing came to propose: her cousin, Abdullâh ibn Ja'far ibn Abi Ṭâlib.

Though Abdullâh became a wealthy man, Zaynab herself was a woman who lived simply. With her husband’s support, she used her wealth to provide support for the vulnerable and the needy; it is said that she owned a house which she did not keep for herself to live in, but used as a shelter for vulnerable women, orphans, and the elderly.

In addition, she was a woman who memorized the Quran and was known for her knowledge of the dîn; she regularly held classes where she taught the women of Madinah—and later, Kûfa—though her knowledge was known even to the men. Ibn Abbas related aḥâdîth upon her authority.

Her nephew, Zayn Al-Âbidin, referred to her as, âlima ghayr mu'allama (‘she who has knowledge without being taught’). She was a woman of piety and had a deep love for worshipping Allah, spending her nights in prayer and her days fasting. People around her spoke of her as âbida (the worshiper), zâhida (the ascetic), faṣiḥa (the skillfully fluent), and balîgha (intensely eloquent).

Thus, long before any of the troubling political incidents during her father’s khilâfa (caliphate, rule) and the subsequent years, Zaynab bint Ali ibn Abi Ṭâlib was a woman whose piety, good character, and knowledge were already known. She was a beloved wife who was supported by her husband; a sister whose older brothers consulted her for her wisdom in many matters.

However, the swiftly changing political landscape of the Islamic empire was inescapable, especially for Zaynab. Her father’s assassination and the death of her brother Al-Ḥassan came as devastating blows to herself and to the Ummah; Al-Ḥussain then gathered his family together, including his sister Zaynab and her children, and together they traveled from Madinah to Makkah. After the uneasy truce during the khilâfa of Mu'âwiyah ibn Abi Sufyân, the ascension of Yazîd ibn Mu'âwiyah as khalîfa (caliph) resulted in far more overt turmoil. Once again, Al-Ḥussain decided to travel, and his family refused to stay behind – the men, women, and children all formed a caravan and made their way to Iraq, where the people of Kûfa had promised their allegiance to the grandson of the Prophet.

Alas, once the members of Ahl Al-Bayt arrived, they found to their shock a completely different state of affairs than what they were expecting – rather than a loyal group of the twelve thousand people who had already sworn bay'â (oath of allegiance) to Al-Ḥussain, barely a hundred people remained at Al-Ḥussain’s side. Betrayed by the people of Kûfa, they found themselves driven towards Karbala, where every member of Al-Ḥussain’s household knew full well what stark reality awaited them.

Yazîd ibn Mu'âwiyah had dispatched an army of 4,000 soldiers under the command of Ibn Ziyad, a ruthless military general and politician. There, in the desolate plains of Karbala, Al-Ḥussain and Zaynab bint Abi Ṭâlib sat together in their tent, their children gathered around them, knowing full well that this night might be their last together as a family. Sorrowful yet firm in their faith in Allah, they knew that their qadar (destiny) could not be averted. Though tears fell from Zaynab’s eyes, she spent the night in prayer seeking the support of her Lord alone.

The next morning, on the 10th of Muḥarram –the day that Musa had been saved from Pharaoh—Allah gave Al-Ḥussain a victory of his own: shahada, martyrdom in the cause of justice against oppression. The death of Al-Ḥussain was, in and of itself, a lesson to the Ummah: to understand that though injustice and oppression may seem to be powerful today, just as they seemed powerful when Al-Ḥussain was killed, Allah alone is the Most Powerful. Victory in the sight of Allah does not always mean that the enemies of Islam are immediately destroyed with a miracle, but that their destruction in the Hereafter will be eternal and all the more painful.

The Story of the 10th of Muharram

Zaynab bint Ali’s jihâd, however, did not end on the Day of Âshûra’. On that day, she lost her youngest son and her brother both; as though that were not enough grief to bear, she and her remaining family members were captured by Ibn Ziyâd and brought to him as prisoners of war.

Dignified even in seeming defeat, Zaynab’s demeanor irritated Ibn Ziyâd, who snapped, “Who is this woman?”

Her slave girl responded, “This is Zaynab, daughter of Fatimah, daughter of the Messenger of Allah .”

Sneering, Ibn Ziyâd said, “Praise be to Allah who humiliated and killed you all.”

Eyes flashing, Zaynab responded,

Rather, praise be to Allah Who honored us with His prophet and thoroughly purified us from filth! It is only the morally corrupt who are humiliated by Allah and the depraved who are disproven, and those are not us, O Ibn Ziyâd!

Angered, Ibn Ziyâd asked her, “How do you find what Allah has done with your family?”

Steadfast as ever, she replied:

They were appointed death and thus went forth to their resting places. Allah will gather [a gathering] between them and you, and you will dispute with each other before Him on Resurrection Day.

Discomfited and taken aback, Ibn Ziyâd turned his attention to Zaynab’s nephew, Zayn Al-Âbidîn ibn Al-Ḥussain, who had been severely injured during the battle. “Who are you?” Ibn Ziyâd demanded to know.

As dignified as his aunt, the young boy answered,

I am Ali ibn Al-Ḥussain.

“Didn’t Allah kill Ali ibn Al-Ḥussain?” Ibn Ziyâd retorted.

“I had an older brother named Ali [ibn Al-Ḥussain] whom your men killed,” Zayn Al-Âbidîn said calmly.

Ibn Ziyâd snapped, “Rather, Allah killed him!”

The boy recited Qur’anic verses in response:

Allah takes the souls at the time of their death. [Sûrat Al-Zumar, 39:42]

No soul can ever die except by Allah’s leave and at a term appointed. [Sûrat Âl Imrân, 3:145]

Furious, Ibn Ziyâd summoned his executioner and commanded that the boy be killed immediately. Zaynab immediately stepped forward and drew her nephew into her embrace, declaring for all to hear,

O Ibn Ziyâd, if this is the case, then kill me with him!

Knowing that to have a defenseless woman killed would be a mark against his own reputation, Ibn Ziyâd commented sourly, “What kind of kinship is this? I think that it is as if she wants me to kill her! Leave him be.”

After this altercation with Ibn Ziyâd, the household of Zaynab bint Ali was sent to Syria to face Yazîd ibn Mu'âwiyah himself. As they were brought forth to his court, a member of Yazîd’s entourage caught sight of Zaynab’s niece, Fâṭimah bint Al-Ḥussain—a beautiful young woman—and demanded that she be given to him as a gift.

Infuriated by this disregard for the dignity of her family—the family of the Prophet, Zaynab bint Ali once again strode forward and spoke fearlessly:

This is neither your right nor his!” she declared to Yazîd.

Angered in turn, Yazîd snarled, “You have lied. This is certainly my right, and if I wanted to [give her to him], I would.”

“No, by Allah!” Zaynab swore, “Allah did not permit you this unless she leaves our faith and practices another religion.”

“How dare you direct such speech toward me!” Yazîd exploded. “The only ones who left the religion are your father and brother!”

“It is through the religion of my father, brother, and grandfather that you, your father, and your grandfather were guided,” Zaynab parried. She paused, and then delivered the speech that became famed throughout history for its eloquence, its ferocity, and its passion.

The Speech Before the Khalifah

The granddaughter of Prophet Muhammad, had just spoken truth to power—in front of Yazîd ibn Mu'âwiyah, the khalîfa, the Umayyad ruler in Syria (Part 1). Zaynab bint Ali paused, and then delivered the speech that became famed throughout history for its eloquence, its ferocity, and its passion.

Allah and His Messenger have spoken the truth, O Yazîd!

Then evil was the consequence to those who dealt in evil, because they denied the revelations of Allah and made a mock of them. [Sûrat Al-Rûm, 30:10]

O Yazîd, did you really think that when we were shackled by the corners of the earth and the sky’s canopies—such that we were herded about as prisoners are herded—that we were humiliated with Allah while you held a position of honor, and that this is due to the greatness of your rank? You turn your nose up at others and look at yourself in exuberant exultation as you see the world lain out before you and your affairs proceeding harmoniously. What you have actually been given is respite and lavishness, but this is the statement of Allah (Glorified and Exalted):

Let not the Unbelievers think that Our respite to them is good for themselves: We grant them respite that they may grow in their iniquity; But they will have a shameful punishment.[Sûrat Âl Imrân, 3:178]

Is it just, O Son of Freedmen, that you keep your wives and female slaves in seclusion while you parade around the daughters of the Messenger of Allah having removed their protective layers and forcing them to raise their voices —depressed, scurried about on camels, enemies guiding them from place to place, unguarded and unsheltered, watched equally by strangers and familiar people, and without a guardian from among their men-folk? How would it even be possible for someone who looks toward us with insolence, hatred, grudges, and malevolence to slow down the pursuit of our abuse?

Did you actually say—without feeling guilty or deeming it significant— “If only lords of mine at Badr could see” while scraping Abu ‘Abdullah’s teeth with your walking stick? How could you be otherwise when you have scraped the scab off the wound and nipped us in the bud by spilling the blood of the progeny of the Messenger of Allah and the stars of the earth from the family of Abd Al-Muṭṭalib? Soon you will most certainly gather together with them before Allah, and you will most certainly wish that you had been blind, mute and did not say, “They’d cry repeatedly with joy.”

O Allah, take the matter of our rights into Your Hands and avenge us of those who have wronged us!

By Allah, you have not run away except within your own skin, and you have not cut anything other than your own flesh. You will come before the Messenger of Allah despite yourself while his flesh and blood are in the Divine Sanctuary on a day when they will be united after having been dispersed. For Allah (Glorified and Exalted) says,

Think not of those who are slain in God’s way as dead. Nay, they live, finding their sustenance in the presence of their Lord. [Sûrat Âl Imrân, 3:169]

Those who positioned and affirmed you in your authority over the lives of Believers will soon know—when Allah is the judge, Muhammad is the plaintiff, and your own wounds bear witness against you for (“evil is the exchange for the wrong-doers” and “who is worst in position and weakest in forces!”)

And even though I deem you to be of paltry worth and heinous anger, our eyes flow and our chests burn. This does not compensate or benefit us as al-Hussain has been killed. The Party of Satan has brought us before the Party of Fools in order to give them the property of Allah as payment for them violating matters made sacred by Allah. Such hands drip with our blood; such mouths nurse from our flesh; and such pure bodies are preyed upon at night by roaming wolves.

So if you take us as booty, you will be held liable when you find nothing other than your own actions before you, screaming, “O Ibn Marjânah[i],” just as he screams for you.  

By Allah, I am afraid of nothing other than Allah, nor do I complain to anyone other than Allah. So scheme away, sally forth, and exert your utmost effort. By Allah, nothing will ever wash away the shame of what you have done to us.

And all praise is due to Allah Who sealed the lives of the masters of the young men of the Gardens with felicity and forgiveness, thereby guaranteeing them Paradise. I ask Allah to raise their ranks and to guarantee them an increase from His largesse, for He is the Omnipotent Guarantor.”[ii]

The Response from the Khalîfa

The words of Zaynab bint ‘Ali echoed throughout the palace, and Yazîd ibn Mu'âwiyah remained silent. Such was the granddaughter of RasûlAllah: unafraid, even in a position of seeming defeat and humiliation, to speak words of truth to an individual who clearly had no hesitation in demanding the blood of his opponents. And such was the baraka (blessings) of her words that, rather than punishing her, Yazîd released her household and returned their wealth to them.

In fact, he was so moved by her words that as the people of Ahl Al-Bayt prepared for their next journey, Yazîd took Zaynab’s nephew Zayn Al-Âbidîn aside to express his remorse for the treatment of the Prophet’s family during the events of the 10th of Muharram and its aftermath.

May Allah curse Ibn Marjânah. Lo, by Allah! Had I been one of your father’s companions, he would never have asked me for anything except that I would have given it to him, and I would have protected him from death with everything I could, even if it meant that one of my sons had to perish. However, Allah decreed what you witnessed, my young son. Write to me from Madinah with all your needs.”

Zaynab and her family chose to go back to Madinah, but their stay was cut short. Alarmed by the reaction of the people of Madinah to Zaynab’s return, the governor Umar ibn Sa'îd wrote swiftly to Yazîd, saying:

The presence of Zaynab in Madinah arouses people’s emotions and roils their thoughts because she is eloquent and intelligent. When she talks, she grabs their undivided attention, and when she delivers a speech, she enchants their minds and hearts. It is possible that she will request justice for the spilling of Al-Hussein’s blood, which will have undesirable effects and ramifications that only Allah knows.

Finally, she retired to Egypt, where she devoted the last years of her life to worshiping Allah, embodying once more her title of âbida.

What We Owe to Ourselves

Thus was Zaynab bint Ali ibn Abi Ṭâlib: a woman in whose veins ran the blood of the Messenger of Allah, whose tongue recited the Words of Allah, whose life was marked by sorrow and grief without end – yet whose faith never wavered, whose courage never diminished, whose dignity never faded.

It is all too easy to end her story on such a note, to admire her as a heroine without peer, to place her upon a pedestal and leave her there. However, her life was much more than just a fascinating historical incident – rather, it is a sign for us to reflect upon, a lesson for us to learn from.

Ahl Al-Bayt. Karbala. Al-Ḥassan. Al-Ḥussain. Yazîd. These terms and names tend to make many of us feel uncomfortable, referencing incidents in the history of the Muslim Ummah both painful and polarizing. The aftereffects of those events continue to be felt today, and are considered to be one of the main reasons for the difference between Ahl Al-Sunnah wa Al-Jamâ'ah, and the Shî'a. Outside of academia, the topic usually arises in Muharram and the Day of ‘Ashura’ – and even then, the focus for Ahl Al-Sunnah lies not in discussing what took place at Karbala, but on the Sunnah of fasting the 9th and 10th of Muḥarram.

However, it is time that we of Ahl Al-Sunnah question why we shy away from speaking aboutAhl Al-Bayt –the family of RasûlAllah including his grandchildren Al-Hassan, Al-Hussein, and Zaynab bint Ali–when we are the ones who should love them most. Their stories are our stories to know; their lives are examples for us to learn from.

Furthermore, we have spent far too long focusing on the Shî'i vs. Sunni aspect of the events of Karbala without once stopping to think about what we have to learn from it about ourselves – about our tendency to deflect, to avoid acknowledging difficult realities in our Ummah, to avoid taking responsibility for ourselves and our own mistakes. We owe it to ourselves, to our Ummah, to come to terms with this sordid history—and actively to stop perpetuating its fallout. How?

Zaynab bint Ali was a powerful figure because she called out the brutality of Muslims towards other Muslims, towards the family of RasûlAllah himself. Today, we might not be harming Ahl Al-Bayt, personally, ourselves, but this Ummah is supposed to be one body, and we need look no further than our own masajid to see the pain we have wrought amongst ourselves.

The pulpits of our masâjid have become bastions of sectarian politics, where it is considered dangerous to make du'â’ for the Muslims oppressed by our own leaders, and where support for homicidal tyrants murdering their own people is not seen as a bizarre aberration. Sisi and Bashar Al-Assad are the names we speak today, but this is not a new phenomenon: Mu‘ammar Gaddafi, Husni Mubarak, Saddam Hussein, and so many more – uncountable names, for so many generations. Nay, we Muslims, we who claim to follow the Sunnah of RasûlAllah, are the ones who uphold oppression against each other out of petty worldly greed, preferring politics over piety.

Much of our reluctance to speak about the events of Karbala, to learn about the lives of Ahl Al-Bayt and what was done to them, is a reflection of our general weakness in being hesitant to admit that Muslims can and do turn on each other because of power and politics, and use din as a justification for dunyawi goals.

The story of Zaynab bint ‘Ali has very little to do with Shî'a vs. Ahl Al-Sunnah, and everything to do with learning what it means to face the harsh realities of our Ummah. Her spirit and her words, her devotion to Allah and her refusal to accept quiet defeat, should inspire us to have the courage and determination to speak against the wrongdoing that we commit amongst ourselves.

We cannot claim to be obedient to Allah or to love His Messenger when we are the ones who abuse each other – politically or financially, within our homes and within our marriages. There is no outward enemy to blame for the Muslims in our own communities who are being beaten and abused by their own spouses because we are not providing them with the support they need; there is no one else to blame when we support political parties or individuals whose concern is not justice, but power over the masses.

Like Zaynab bint Ali, we must be ready to prove our sincerity of faith by being willing to experience hardship and difficulty for the sake of Allah – seeking His Pleasure alone, finding our honor not in trifling political tidbits or the advantages of financial gain, but in living His din and striving to fulfill what it means to be the khulafâ’ (guardians) of this earth.

We are currently the Ibn Ziyad’s of our Ummah, but we can also be its Zaynab’s… if only we have the courage to live like the forgotten heroes and heroines of our past.

My Khul', My Freedom

Almost three years ago today, I fought for my right to receive a khul’… and received it. It was painful and exhilarating all at once; I was twenty-two years old, I had been married for almost four and a half years, and I had a three-year-old daughter. I had asked for khul’ three times in the span of about a year, and each time I had been denied.

This last time, I stood my ground – and finally received what I knew to be my Shari’ah right.

The ‘iddah (or waiting period before being permitted to re-marry) of khul’ is only one menstrual cycle, unlike that of talaq or widowhood. Whereas a woman who has been given a talaq is obliged to stay within her husband’s home, I– being a woman who had chosen to leave the marriage– left my then-husband’s home as well, and spent that time with my family instead.

The night I received my khul’’, my tears were of relief, excitement, and joy. The next morning, as I sailed on the ferry that would take me back to my grandparents’ home, I buried my face in my best friend’s shoulder and wept for all that had passed.

My ‘iddah lasted all of two weeks, and it was a period of time marked by numerous emotions, a flash flood of exhilaration and anger, sorrow and jubilance, shattering uncertainty about the future, and a sense of renewal for my life. Every sajdah was filled with an overflowing sense of gratefulness that I had been given this opportunity that so many other women are denied; every rak’ah was performed with an aching heart and guilt at what I had chosen to do.

I wish I could say that I used my ‘iddah as a time of thoughtfulness and reflection, of heightened spirituality and increased maturity, but to be honest… to be honest, I was mostly just giddy with excitement. After four and a half years, it was a huge relief to be able to be myself again; to be able to laugh out loud, to wear a pair of shoes I liked, to be able to speak my own opinions without being censured or punished for being ‘a bad wife.’

For those two weeks, though I chafed at being kept indoors by my family, I spent a significant portion of my time simply making lists of all the things I couldn’t wait to do as soon as my ‘iddah was over.

My ‘iddah was a time where I felt like I was able to rediscover myself: remembering the person I really was behind the layers of anxiety and depression and the innumerable restrictions that had been placed on my own personality. I was able to write freely again, as though someone had removed a muzzle from my heart and mind; I could speak with honesty, instead of choosing my words based on what a certain individual wanted to hear; I could finally make choices for myself again, as a grown woman, and not someone whose existence was tied to the demands of someone else.

My identity as a Muslim woman was no longer dependent on being someone’s obedient wife; my future in the Hereafter was not hinged on another human being’s mood swings. I was, for the first time in my life (or so it felt), a grown woman whose spiritual status was a matter solely between herself and her Lord.

It was divorce, not marriage, which brought me closer to Allah and filled me with a strength of sincerity that I had not experienced in a long, long time.

When my ‘iddah ended, the first thing I did was go for a walk, hand in hand with my three-year-old daughter, retracing the neighborhood steps of my childhood and adolescence. It was here that I felt my life had come almost full-circle; here was the place that I had always felt happiest, where I had anticipated my future with eagerness, where I had experienced the early, simple struggles of adolescence and felt myself growing into the type of person I hoped to be. Now, once again, I felt the same joy and excitement, the same growing pains and the sense of discomfort that accompanies true change.

I tipped my head back towards the sun, and smiled.

{So which of the favors of your Lord would you deny?} (Qur’an 55:13)

Zainab Bint Younus (the Salafi Feminist) is a Canadian Muslim woman who tries to write thoughtfully about women of Islamic history and positive polygyny when not ranting against the patriarchy. Having sought divorce at the age of 22, she maintains that it was one of the best decisions of her life (tied with her choice to enter into polygyny and live happily ever after with her husband and best friend).

A Queen's Throne and a Prophet's Challenge

A long time ago, in a land far away, a bird called the Hudhud (Hoopoe) flew over the land of Sheba and gazed in shock at the sight he saw. He winged his way back to the kingdom of Prophet Sulaymân (Solomon), and announced:

{I have encompassed [in knowledge] that which you have not encompassed, and I have come to you from Sheba with certain news. Indeed, I found [there] a woman ruling them, and she has been given of all things, and she has a great throne. I found her and her people prostrating to the sun instead of to Allah, and Satan has made their deeds pleasing to them and averted them from [His] way, so they are not guided, [and] so they do not prostrate to Allah, who brings forth what is hidden within the heavens and the earth and knows what you conceal and what you declare. Allah! – there is no deity except Him, Lord of the Great Throne!} [Sûrat Al-Naml, 27:22-26]

The Hudhud’s words express amazement and dismay alike at this marvel which he witnessed. Then as now, a woman in a position of such ruler-ship was not the norm – and clearly, this woman enjoyed many blessings of Allah in addition to her power. Yet what was most shocking to the Hudhud was that despite the greatness of her throne and of her land, this remarkable queen did not worship Allah, but worshipped the sun instead. Nor was the queen alone in her sun worship. The Hudhud noted that “she and her people” were engaged in this worship together, which illustrates the relationship between the ruler and the ruled. Inevitably, wherever one goes in the world, the faith of the ruler(s) will affect the faith of a nation; the beliefs of those in authority will always impact the people they rule over.

The Hudhud was both fascinated and concerned at this state of affairs. How could someone not recognize Allah’s existence and worship Him as He deserves, when they were already showered with His blessings? As a prophet of Allah, Sulaymân knew that he had a duty to engage in da'wah with this fellow leader.

Sulaymân instructed the Hudhud:

{Take this letter of mine and deliver it to them. Then leave them and see what [answer] they will return.} [Sûrat Al-Naml, 27:28]

Thoughtfully, he wondered what kind of ruler the queen really was, and what response he would receive.

Allah introduces us to the Balqîs, Queen of Sheba (Saba’: Yemen/Ethiopia), in the most beautiful of ways.

{She said, “O eminent ones, indeed, to me has been delivered a noble letter. Indeed, it is from Sulayman, and indeed, it reads: ‘In the name of Allah, the Entirely Merciful, the Especially Merciful. Be not haughty with me but come to me in submission.} ‘[Sûrat Al-Naml, 27:29-31]

Immediately, an image is conjured – a woman of grace and wisdom, a ruler who does not hold herself aloof from her people, but who consults with those around her. Balqîs is a woman whose intellect and poise is clear from her every word.

As she reads the letter out to her cabinet, it is clear that she has already read the letter. She has thought about it, and considered it seriously; she is impressed, not afraid, of what she has read, for she describes it as ‘kitâbun karîm’ – a noble and gracious message.

Sulaymân’s letter begins with the basmala, invoking the Name of Allah, and she recognizes that this is not about himself and how great he is, but about something far more serious. What he says and does is not out of his own sense of superiority, but out of submission to Allah.

Balqîs also recognizes the nuances of his words: when he said “allâ ta'lû ‘alayya,” he was telling her not to be arrogant towards him – but also carried the meaning of warning her not to advance against him militarily. The Hudhud, having noted Sheba’s influence and might, may have implied that the queendom of Sheba was considering expansion of its borders.

Sulaymân had continued, saying, “wa âtûni muslimîn” – “come to me in a state of non-aggression, of submission” to Allah.

{She said, “O eminent ones, advise me in my affair. I would not decide a matter unless you are present.”} [Sûrat Al-Naml, 27:32]

The Queen of Sheba’s success as a ruler no doubt had something to do with the fact that she was far from reckless, hasty, or emotional. The word aftûnî “advise me”—related to ‘fatwah’—as used in this verse, carries in its meaning the connotation of empowering someone to make a decision, to provide them with the evidence required to make a correct decision. Balqîs did not simply tell her ministers that she had received a message from Sulaymân, but she made a point of reading out the letter in its entirety; she provided them with the complete information rather than merely her own perception.

{They said, “We are men of strength and of great military might, but the command is yours, so see what you will command.”} [Sûrat Al-Naml, 27:33]

Balqîs’ cabinet of ministers were as foresighted as she was: though they were men of influence and authority, who wielded military power, they still acknowledged her power and trusted her to make the right decision.

{She said, “Indeed, kings – when they enter a city – they ruin it and render the honored of its people humbled. And thus do they do. But indeed, I will send to them a gift and see with what [reply] the messengers will return.”} [Sûrat Al-Naml, 27:34-35]

The Queen’s comment about the behavior of kings displayed her political astuteness. She knew better than anyone that conquerors engage in media campaigns – that they inflict political oppression and brutally crush any opposition. Her decision was one of sharp insight: she decided to send gifts to Sulaymân to test him, to see if his invitation to Islam was really one of principle, or whether it was just an excuse for exerting political power and asking for bribes.

Qatadah said about her thought process: “May Allah have mercy on her and be pleased with her—how wise she was as a Muslim and (before that) as an idolater! She understood how gift-giving has a good effect on people.” Ibn `Abbas and others said: “She said to her people, if he accepts the gift, he is a king, so fight him; but if he does not accept it, he is a Prophet, so follow him.”[1]

Now comes the response of Prophet Sulaymân, his dignity offended by the very idea of accepting what could be construed as a bribe.

{So when they came to Sulaymân, he said, “Do you provide me with wealth? But what Allah has given me is better than what He has given you. Rather, it is you who rejoice in your gift! Return to them, for we will surely come to them with soldiers that they will be powerless to encounter, and we will surely expel them therefrom in humiliation, and they will be debased.”} [Sûrat Al-Naml, 27:36-37]

Sulaymân’s answer first and foremost speaks about Allah, acknowledging that everything is from Him, and that He is the One Who gives. His response is also one of political know-how: he is basically saying that he is insulted at the idea that they think they can buy him off, that they are so confident that he will be easy to manipulate. Though his threat may seem harsh, it is to display his refusal to be seen as weak. The exchange of messages is that of rulers testing each other’s mettle, examining the other’s strength and commitment to honor and principle.

Finally, a meeting is arranged between the two monarchs – but the matching of wits is not yet over.

{He (Sulaymân) said, “O assembly [of jinn], which of you will bring me her throne before they come to me in submission?"

A powerful one from among the jinn said, “I will bring it to you before you rise from your place, and indeed, I am for this [task] strong and trustworthy." 

Said one who had knowledge from Scripture, “I will bring it to you before your glance returns to you.” 

And when he (Sulaymân) saw it placed before him, he said, “This is from the favor of my Lord to test me whether I will be grateful or ungrateful. And whoever is grateful, his gratitude is only for [the benefit of] himself; and whoever is ungrateful, then indeed, my Lord is Free of Need and Generous.” 

He said, “Disguise her throne for her; we will see whether she will be guided [to truth] or will be of those who is not guided.” 

So when she arrived, it was said [to her], “Is your throne like this?” 

She said, “[It is] as though [this] was it.”} [Sûrat Al-Naml, 27:38-42]

Sulaymân had one final test to put before Balqîs, a challenge to her intellect. 

Mujahid said: “He issued orders that it should be changed, so whatever was red should be made yellow and vice versa, and whatever was green should be made red, so everything was altered.” 

Ikrimah said, “They added some things and took some things away.”

Qatadah said, “It was turned upside down and back to front, and some things were added and some things were taken away.”[2]

Balqîs was a woman of caution and keen acumen, wary of passing judgment swiftly or making quick decisions. She neither affirmed nor denied that the throne before her now was the same throne she presided over in Sheba; instead, calm and unruffled, she merely acknowledged the similarity between what she knew of her own possession, and the throne she looked upon in that moment.

{She was told, “Enter the palace.” 

But when she saw it, she thought it was a body of water and uncovered her shins [to wade through]. 

He said, “Indeed, it is a palace [whose floor is] made smooth with glass.” 

She said, “My Lord, indeed I have wronged myself, and I submit with Sulaymân to Allah, Lord of the worlds.”} [Sûrat Al-Naml, 27:44]

How beautiful is the Queen of Sheba’s conduct! Her intelligence, her dignity, and her grace are all highlighted in just a few words. There is no arrogance whatsoever—no stubbornness or reluctance to admitting previous wrongdoing, just honesty. She had borne witness to amazing things on this day, and she would not allow her ego interfere with her testimony of truth. On this day, she submitted with Sulaymân to Allah – the submission of equals before their Lord. There is a sense of dignity to it all, a powerful aura of respect.

What is truly amazing about how Allah tells the story in the Quran is that it ends with her declaration of faith in Him, with such grace. Many people turn the story of Balqîs into a romantic tale or argue that she gave up her queendom to Sulaymân, but none of that is even hinted at in the âyât that speak about her.

Allah so clearly brings our attention to a woman who had both power and wisdom; who did not allow herself to be swayed by fear, but who was determined to make her decisions based upon actual experience. She demonstrates to us the attitude that we should all have: a willingness to go out there and seek knowledge and experience for ourselves; to be cautious but not stubborn; open-minded but not easily dazzled… and above all, the ability to acknowledge that we have done wrong, and to turn to Allah with a heart full of faith and repentance—with dignity.

The Queen of Sheba is the perfect example of how submitting ourselves to Allah does not bring us down, but simply raises us higher.

The relationship between Sulaymân and Balqîs as hinted at from that final declaration of Balqîs, also encapsulates the ideal relationship between men and women; that they both be seen as individuals capable of authority, and of humility at the same time. Most importantly, that each party respect the other – acknowledging each other’s strengths and seeking only to assist each other in improving as human beings, and above all, to support each other in turning to Allah and worshiping Him alone. The image we are left with in the Quran is that of Sulaymân and Balqîs, king and queen, submitting themselves equally as slaves to Allah alone. How much more beautiful could their relationship be?

From beginning to end, the Queen of Sheba is presented to us as an example of an amazing individual. Though initially she was of those misguided, who wrongfully worshipped other than Allah, her intelligence and her honesty led her to recognize the truth and submit herself to her Creator in the most beautiful of ways. In her personality, we see a true heroine – someone who did not allow her position of power or her possession of great luxury to prevent her from humbling herself spiritually.

Like Balqîs and Sulaymân, men and women are meant to be strive together to realize their full potential, in terms of both worldly accomplishments and spiritual submission. Only when we recognize that our strength lies in supporting each other will we find contentment and success alike. By following the footsteps of a Prophet and a Queen, we will ultimately find ourselves submitting to Allah, the Lord of the Worlds.

‪#‎ForgottenHeroines‬