Showing posts with label gender roles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gender roles. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 27, 2016

"Jannah lies under her feet..."

The reason that Jannah lies under the feet of mothers isn't because it's easy or because our 'feminine natures' simply incline towards it.
The reason Jannah lies under the feet of mothers is because it is one of the most painful and unpleasant jobs in the world.
From pregnancy and its assorted conditions - everything from morning sickness to gestational diabetes to depression so severe that it leads to suicidal thoughts or impulses - to the first few months of sleep deprivation, the agonies of breastfeeding, post partum depression; from the toddler years of having a child drain you of your bodily fluids, waking you up every night and at monstrous hours of the early morning clawing at your face or screaming for inexplicable reasons (and no, children don't only cry because they're hungry, sick, or need a diaper change; very often they cry because they want nothing but your undivided attention for absolutely no reason other than to sadistically test your sanity); to the years when you must spend each day grimly trying to educate them and raise them as well-mannered and respectful human beings despite their insistence on acting like ungrateful brats...
THAT is mothering. That is the daily reality - and it is not to be glossed over or shrugged off or required for us to hastily add, "But of course I love my kids and it's very rewarding."
For some people, sure, motherhood is fabulous and all they've dreamed of from life. And that's great... for them.
For so many others, especially Muslim women who have had it drilled into them that motherhood is their ultimate spiritual accomplishment, it is absolutely not fun. You don't get a daily spiritual rush or spiritual growth on a regular basis simply by keeping your spawn alive. You just don't.
So please, for the love of God, can we stop romanticizing motherhood?
It has become so painfully cliche in talks and lectures and workshops to celebrate motherhood, to revere it, to speak about every woman's maternal instinct as a gift and blessing from God and that being a loving mother is how we shall earn His Pleasure... to the point that when Muslim mothers do finally break down and confess that there are days, weeks, even months that they hate it with a passion - they are vilified for being unnatural or damaged or corrupted, they are told that they are less than good Muslim women, that they are severely lacking in faith and fitrah.
Enough of it.
Our motherhood should be celebrated not only in terms of the perceived "joys" and "beauties" of having children, but because of the sheer agony of it. Our pain needs to be recognized and acknowledged in terms of more than "your kids can't pay you back for even one contraction from labour." Such phrases lose meaning when in the next breath, mothers are berated for not being absolutely perfect, for not being sacrificing more of themselves (for either their children or their husbands), for wanting *more* from their lives than motherhood.
Jannes lies under the feet of mothers not because motherhood is wonderful, but because most of the time, it's not.
And there is nothing wrong with saying that.

Thursday, February 18, 2016

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.

Wednesday, January 06, 2016

Passion and Power: The Politics of the Ideal Muslimah

IT IS HUMAN nature to be hyper aware and critical of those in the public eye, and Muslims are no different. Imams, shuyûkh, and other popular figures in the Muslim public sphere are all subject to scrutiny and fascination.
Muslim women who are engaged in the public sphere are even more vulnerable to criticism. Every aspect of their lives – whether it’s their marital status, the color of their hijabs and jilbâbs, how many children they have or (God forbid they get a divorce!) why they weren’t good enough wives to begin with (and how their publicity was probably the reason for it) – is up for discussion by the general masses, who are vicious critics with lots of sanctimonious self-righteousness and very little usn al-ann (benefit of the doubt).
No matter how religious or scholarly, Muslim women who find themselves having a public presence are always expected to fit a very specific mould – one of the ‘ideal Muslimah.’
However, this ‘ideal Muslimah’ is fictional: it was not fully embodied even by the best of women, the wives of the Prophet (sallAllahu 'alayhi wa sallam), his female Companions, and the women of the Tâbiîn. We have allowed ourselves to create a false narrative that the women of those times spoke only in a certain way, dressed only in a certain way, and interacted with society at large in a very limited and specific way. We have been led to believe that they were devoid of personality quirks, strong opinions, and personal conflicts with even their husbands; we have been led to believe that they were Madonnas whose piety ensured a lack of normal humanity.
Yet none of this is true. It is true that they were women of taqwa; women of knowledge, wisdom and understanding; women of modesty and chastity; women who were dedicated to the worship of Allah. But they were also women who chose to lead armies into battle; women who not only disagreed with their husbands, but insisted on following their own opinions; women who were passionate and did not allow others to dictate how they would speak or behave.
One such woman was Âishah bint Ṭalḥa ibn Ubaydillâh. Her father was the Sahabi Ṭalḥa ibn Ubaydullâh, her mother was Umm Kulthûm bint Abi Bakr Al-Siddîq, and her aunt was Umm al-Mu’minîn Âishah bint Abi Bakr.
Âishah bint Ṭalḥa was a muadditha (scholar of Hadith), a faqîha (jurist), a muftiyya (one who issues non-binding legal rulings), and an abida (worshiper) who was considered nearly equal to Âishah bint Abi Bakr, the Prophet’s wife, in piety, knowledge, and intellect.
She was also known to be the most beautiful woman of Madinah, a woman who had three husbands, and who was unmatched in the sheer force of her personality.
She also did not cover her face. Though she observed hijab and covered herself with a khimâr and jilbâb, she left her face bare – and as a result, her beauty became famed both within Madinah and outside of it.
It is narrated that once Aishah got into a fight with her husband Abdullâh ibn Abd Al-Raḥmân ibn Abi Bakr Al-Ṣiddîq and left her home in a state of fury. On her way to Al-Masjid Al-Nabawy, where she was going to visit her aunt ¢Âishah, she came across the Sahabi Abu Hurairah. In shock, he stared at her and exclaimed, “SubânAllah! I’ve just seen one of the Hûr Al-În!” (As for the fight with her husband – Âishah stayed with her aunt for four months before she decided to go back home.)
Anas ibn Mâlik once told her directly, “By Allah, I have never seen anyone more beautiful than you other than Mu'awiyah ibn Abi Sufyân when he is sitting on the minbar of RasûlAllâh!” Her response was one of complete self-assurance. “By Allah, I am more beautiful than a powerful flame seen by a man who is freezing on an icy night!”
Imagine how such a woman would be considered today – a woman who has the audacity to reply with such confidence, who not only acknowledges what others say about her, but emphasizes it. (And forget about a woman who leaves her husband’s home in anger and doesn’t go back until she so chooses!)
One point of note is that Âishah demonstrated that it was apparently not considered harâm for her to leave her husband’s home without his permission; after all, she spent the duration of those four months in the home of Umm Al-Mu’minîn Âishah. If she had committed a sin in doing so, wouldn’t her aunt have rebuked her and sent her back to her husband? The situation was a far cry from what we hear from many people today – that for a woman to even step foot outside of her husband’s home without his permission is wrong; that for a woman to leave her husband’s home out of anger is tantamount to minor kufr!
Her second husband, Mus'ab ibn Al-Zubair, was a man who loved her deeply and began to feel jealous over the fact that her beauty was so obvious to all who saw her. One day he told her, “Either stay within your home or cover your face when you go out!”
Her reply?
Allah has given me this distinction of beauty, so I want people to look upon me and know my virtue over them; I will never cover it when it comes from Allah. And by Allah, Allah knows that there is no fault in my character upon which anyone can comment!
The narrator who was relating this story to Imam Al-Ṣafadi commented, “This was true. She was extremely strong in character, and that was what the women of Banu Taym were like.”
In this incident, what stands out is that – lack of niqâb aside – this was a clear case of a man commanding his wife to do something… and the wife choosing to follow her own fiqh opinion in the full confidence that she was not doing something displeasing to Allah.
While one may disagree with her choice not to wear niqâb, it is particularly intriguing that for a woman known to be one of the greatest Tâbi'iyyât of her time. She was described as thiqa (strong and trustworthy in the Science of Hadith) by Yaḥya ibn Ma'în, Al-Dâraquṭni, Imam Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal and others; she was also classified as ujja (one whose statements and actions are used as evidence in legal matters), which is a category very few individuals were considered worthy of. Also, she defied what is commonly taught as a primary requirement in the marital relationship: the unwavering obedience of a wife to her husband in absolutely every sphere of life.
Obviously, it is undeniable that Allah gave men the role of qawwâm (guardian – a man responsible towards the women of his family) – but perhaps it is also time for us to acknowledge that over time, Muslims have over-exaggerated what that role entails. The Sahaba and Tâbi'în, it appears, did not have such a stringent concept of wifely submission to a husband’s every whim and desire.
Examples from her life were recorded in the books of fiqhAfter the death of Âishah’s first husband, Mus'ab ibn Al-Zubair proposed marriage to her, but for one reason or another, she refused to accept… and went as far as swearing an oath of dhihâr. “If I marry him, he will be forbidden to me like my father’s back!” she declared. It was an unprecedented moment of Islamic jurisprudence. For one reason or another, she eventually relented, and the scholarly decision was that she needed to pay an expiation for her oath. As kaffâra (expiation), she bought and freed a slave worth 2,000 dinars.
On another occasion, she swore an oath of dhihâr once again – and again, to her husband Mus¢ab. She locked herself in her rooms and refused to allow him anywhere near her, reminding him of her oath, though he begged and pleaded to be able to even speak to her. In the end, he summoned Âmir Al-Sha'bi, the faqîh of Kufa, to discuss the matter with Âishah. Having had a change of heart, she asked Âmir Al-Sha'bi how to resolve the matter. His fatwah was that the oath was invalid, and that she was required to pay the kaffâra. She agreed with his conclusion, and allowed Mus'ab to return to her. In appreciation, she gave Âmir Al-Sha'bi 4,000 dirhams for his efforts in solving the fiqh conundrum.
There are numerous other stories from Âishah bint Ṭalḥa’s life that demonstrates just how different she was from our preconceived notions of what ‘true scholarship’ was like. Today, a woman who conducts herself in such a manner would never be accepted as a person of righteousness and authority. She would be spoken of in harsh terms, accused of being a ‘fitna’(temptation, tough test) to those around her, denied any public position of Islamic education to the masses.
Yet in Â’ishah bint Ṭalḥa’s time, she was considered to be a woman of extreme piety and worship, a woman who taught men of the Tâbi¢în, a woman who was recorded as being amuadditha, a faqîha, and a muftiyya. Despite all these stories that were known about her, no one seem to have found a contradiction in the fact that she spoke and behaved in such a way, and that she was still such a woman of righteousness. There were many Sahabah who lived at her time, yet they apparently accepted her for the way she was.
What we can learn from Â’ishah bint Ṭalḥa’s life is not necessarily to derive fiqh opinions aboutniqâb or dhihâr –or whether wives can walk out on their husbands– but rather to reflect upon how we consider women, their personalities and their conduct, and their presence in the public sphere. Our ideas of what an ‘appropriate Muslim woman’ is meant to be has been so clouded by our own filters – both cultural ones and Islamicly justified ones – that we fail to realize that the greatest generations of Muslims often had very different ideas of what was considered acceptable.
Though we have come to believe that a pious woman is a silent woman, or a woman who restricts any and all aspects of herself to the private setting, or a woman whose public presence is as minimal and stark as possible, it is obvious from the biographies of female scholars of the past that this was not always considered the ideal. A woman’s role was seen as far more flexible as it is today; a woman’s ability to stand her ground and be more than automatically obedient was recognized and not castigated.
The Ṣahâbiyyât and Tâbi'iyyât lived as normal human beings with emotions, temptations, quirks of personality, issues in their relationships, and so on – yet this did not detract from their greatness as believers and scholars whose worth was recognized.
It may just be that we have a great deal of changing to do when it comes to how we perceive and perpetuate ‘the ideal Muslimah’ – whether she is a scholar in the public sphere, an individual in the domestic sphere, or both. For us to be able to raise new generations of heroines of Islam to revitalize the Ummah, it is necessary for us to challenge our own narrow ideas of what type of women those first heroines of Islam were to begin with.
(Author’s Note: The source for the narrations about Âishah bint Ṭalḥa were related by Sh. Muhammad Akram Nadwi, referencing Imam Al-Ṣafadi.)