Just in case someone wasn't aware.
*shrugs*
Showing posts with label muslim feminist. Show all posts
Showing posts with label muslim feminist. Show all posts
Friday, June 12, 2015
Tuesday, June 09, 2015
"For me, niqab is a feminist statement."
My piece for AJ+
I’m a writer, a feminist, and an orthodox Muslim (Salafi, to be precise).
I have a fondness for all that is goth, (steam)punk, and Batman. I’m obsessed with leather biker jackets. I’m loud, somewhat annoying, and absent-minded.
And I wear niqab.
To me, niqab is a very feminist statement. By covering my face, by obscuring my physical features from those around me, I am saying: “I alone own my body, and you have no right to me.” My words, my actions, and my mind take precedence over my body, and no one can coerce me otherwise. Wearing niqab does not erase me from society. Rather, it gives me the freedom to engage in it on my own terms, without being bound by others’ demands.
It is the ultimate act of ownership and empowerment.
And I’m fiercely proud of it.
But living in Canada, I get questioned a lot about my choice to wear niqab. My dad grew up in Canada, and my grandparents have lived here for more than 40 years. I’m as Canadian as they come—not despite the fact that I wear niqab, but because of it. The Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms, which guarantees me the right to dress the way I please, was taught to me at a young age. It’s ingrained in me. Knowing about it gave me the extra boost of confidence I needed when I chose to wear the niqab seven years ago. I felt secure in the knowledge that no one could ever accuse me of breaking the law, or that I didn’t know what it meant to be Canadian.
“You know you’re in Canada now,” people still say to me in a patronizing tone.
“I know,” I reply coolly. “That’s precisely why I’m wearing what I want to.”
One woman grimaced with distaste at me recently, asking,
“But why do you have to wear all that black?”
“Because I’m goth,” I deadpanned.
No, my entire identity doesn’t rest on the fact that I cover my face and body when I go out. I prefer not to focus on the way I dress, but find myself speaking and writing about it often. I usually end up talking about the legal and social repercussions of niqab, but it’s about a lot more than that for me.
I grew up watching my mother wearing niqab. But my parents didn’t allow me to wear it until I did my own research and considered the meaning and consequences of wearing it. When I put one on, it was with utter conviction that it was something I not only wanted, but needed. It was a reflection and extension of my identity, without being the sum of my existence.
The niqab is more than just a piece of cloth or a political claim. It’s a spiritual statement, an act of worship that I hold between myself and God. It’s not that I consider myself superior to others by wearing it– just the opposite. There are numerous others whose acts of worship may supersede my own. Wearing niqab is one act that I can consistently carry out, and I pray that it brings me at least a little bit closer to God, and to Jannah (paradise).
There are those who ask: “Why, if it’s an act of worship, don’t Muslim men wear it?” And, “Don’t you know that it’s not even a part of Islam?” And there are those who say that I am further sexualizing myself by shrouding.
To them I say: If you really care about my religiosity, research it. But don’t you dare assume I am ignorant about my own faith or that I don’t know what I’m doing or why. As for my sexuality, that’s my own damn business.
The lives of niqabi women do not revolve around our niqabs… and we are not all that mysterious. Some of us are quite open about our activities and even our dress on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. On social media I joke about the difficulties of “matching all my blacks” (the elements of my clothing: abayah, hijab and niqab); the horror of realizing that I wore my niqab backwards (yes, there really is a right way and a wrong way to wear it!); and that very Canadian problem of getting powdered sugar from my Timbits all over myself and my 5-year-old daughter.
Most of my time is spent doing what I love most, reading and writing about women in Islam. I study historical female figures and challenge cultural Muslim ideas about female sexuality and gender roles. I care deeply about the Muslim community and I’m troubled by the many issues we are plagued with. I strive to put my ideas into action by in my local community, including a series of workshops I’ve developed titled #MuslimSexEd.
I can also be found wandering around downtown taking too many pictures and spending too much money on accessories I buy solely because they make my niqabi outfit look awesome.
In contrast to all this, media and pop culture portray a very different image of what a niqabi woman is, or looks like. Stock photos of “Muslim women” and “niqab” yield a plethora of images that are neither realistic nor practical. The one thing these images have in common is they are almost always taken by non-Muslim photographers, or solely of women in Eastern countries.
AP photographer Hassan Ammar is the latest in a series of lazy efforts to capitalize on niqab-wearing Muslim women… without having to actually engage those women. For others, like Khloe Kardashian, “dressing up” in niqab is a way to up the hypersexual ante. The appropriation of niqab for “artistic purposes” is offensive. We’ve had enough. In France we face steep fines for covering our faces in public. Elsewhere in Europe, the UK, and North America, niqabis face verbal and physical abuse from strangers.
We do not all wear the same black uniform or exaggerated eyeliner. We are not oppressed victims, or brainwashed “Islamists.” We do not need others to speak for us or over us, pretending to tell our stories when we have our own voices and our own cameras, and are fully capable of documenting our lives.
And we are doing so.
I’m a writer, a feminist, and an orthodox Muslim (Salafi, to be precise).
I have a fondness for all that is goth, (steam)punk, and Batman. I’m obsessed with leather biker jackets. I’m loud, somewhat annoying, and absent-minded.
And I wear niqab.
To me, niqab is a very feminist statement. By covering my face, by obscuring my physical features from those around me, I am saying: “I alone own my body, and you have no right to me.” My words, my actions, and my mind take precedence over my body, and no one can coerce me otherwise. Wearing niqab does not erase me from society. Rather, it gives me the freedom to engage in it on my own terms, without being bound by others’ demands.
It is the ultimate act of ownership and empowerment.
And I’m fiercely proud of it.
But living in Canada, I get questioned a lot about my choice to wear niqab. My dad grew up in Canada, and my grandparents have lived here for more than 40 years. I’m as Canadian as they come—not despite the fact that I wear niqab, but because of it. The Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms, which guarantees me the right to dress the way I please, was taught to me at a young age. It’s ingrained in me. Knowing about it gave me the extra boost of confidence I needed when I chose to wear the niqab seven years ago. I felt secure in the knowledge that no one could ever accuse me of breaking the law, or that I didn’t know what it meant to be Canadian.
“You know you’re in Canada now,” people still say to me in a patronizing tone.
“I know,” I reply coolly. “That’s precisely why I’m wearing what I want to.”
One woman grimaced with distaste at me recently, asking,
“But why do you have to wear all that black?”
“Because I’m goth,” I deadpanned.
No, my entire identity doesn’t rest on the fact that I cover my face and body when I go out. I prefer not to focus on the way I dress, but find myself speaking and writing about it often. I usually end up talking about the legal and social repercussions of niqab, but it’s about a lot more than that for me.
I grew up watching my mother wearing niqab. But my parents didn’t allow me to wear it until I did my own research and considered the meaning and consequences of wearing it. When I put one on, it was with utter conviction that it was something I not only wanted, but needed. It was a reflection and extension of my identity, without being the sum of my existence.
The niqab is more than just a piece of cloth or a political claim. It’s a spiritual statement, an act of worship that I hold between myself and God. It’s not that I consider myself superior to others by wearing it– just the opposite. There are numerous others whose acts of worship may supersede my own. Wearing niqab is one act that I can consistently carry out, and I pray that it brings me at least a little bit closer to God, and to Jannah (paradise).
There are those who ask: “Why, if it’s an act of worship, don’t Muslim men wear it?” And, “Don’t you know that it’s not even a part of Islam?” And there are those who say that I am further sexualizing myself by shrouding.
To them I say: If you really care about my religiosity, research it. But don’t you dare assume I am ignorant about my own faith or that I don’t know what I’m doing or why. As for my sexuality, that’s my own damn business.
The lives of niqabi women do not revolve around our niqabs… and we are not all that mysterious. Some of us are quite open about our activities and even our dress on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. On social media I joke about the difficulties of “matching all my blacks” (the elements of my clothing: abayah, hijab and niqab); the horror of realizing that I wore my niqab backwards (yes, there really is a right way and a wrong way to wear it!); and that very Canadian problem of getting powdered sugar from my Timbits all over myself and my 5-year-old daughter.
Most of my time is spent doing what I love most, reading and writing about women in Islam. I study historical female figures and challenge cultural Muslim ideas about female sexuality and gender roles. I care deeply about the Muslim community and I’m troubled by the many issues we are plagued with. I strive to put my ideas into action by in my local community, including a series of workshops I’ve developed titled #MuslimSexEd.
I can also be found wandering around downtown taking too many pictures and spending too much money on accessories I buy solely because they make my niqabi outfit look awesome.
In contrast to all this, media and pop culture portray a very different image of what a niqabi woman is, or looks like. Stock photos of “Muslim women” and “niqab” yield a plethora of images that are neither realistic nor practical. The one thing these images have in common is they are almost always taken by non-Muslim photographers, or solely of women in Eastern countries.
AP photographer Hassan Ammar is the latest in a series of lazy efforts to capitalize on niqab-wearing Muslim women… without having to actually engage those women. For others, like Khloe Kardashian, “dressing up” in niqab is a way to up the hypersexual ante. The appropriation of niqab for “artistic purposes” is offensive. We’ve had enough. In France we face steep fines for covering our faces in public. Elsewhere in Europe, the UK, and North America, niqabis face verbal and physical abuse from strangers.
We do not all wear the same black uniform or exaggerated eyeliner. We are not oppressed victims, or brainwashed “Islamists.” We do not need others to speak for us or over us, pretending to tell our stories when we have our own voices and our own cameras, and are fully capable of documenting our lives.
And we are doing so.
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
Orthodox Muslims and Feminism
After
watching an old video clip of a BBC program panel discussion on faith
and feminism (featuring a Muslim woman in niqab as well as women from
other faith groups), my primary reaction was one of disappointment.
Not only did the Muslimah representative remain largely silent throughout the discussion, but when she did speak, it was to offer weak platitudes and analogies about 'equality' - frankly, it made me cringe.
The video, however, highlighted to me many trends that I see when it comes to discussions about feminism amongst or involving conservative/orthodox Muslims.
For one thing, those who don't identify as feminists usually have skewed perception of feminism; those who do identify as feminists always fall back on the topics of hijab/niqab, polygamy, and 'equal but different'. There is very little mention of the active and important role of women from the very beginning of Islamic history.
Furthermore, orthodox Muslims discussing feminism often seem oblivious to the very existence of intersectional feminism, let alone the larger discussions and trends taking place within it. In general, conservative Muslims focus heavily on secular feminism rather than intersectional feminism, which is much more relevant to both women of faith as well as colour. The former is largely recognized to be exclusionist and limiting, with its focus being primarily on White, middle-class women of privilege.
Sadly, many conservative Muslims use the excuse of 'evil feminism' to deliberately ignore serious issues within our communities, especially with regards to the abuse and (mis)treatment of women. Discussing male privilege within masaajid, the abuse of authority, and how women are blocked from accessing their Shar'i rights are all written off as 'deviant feminism,' regardless of whether or not the individual identifies as a feminist to begin with!
It becomes ironic when even the most ideal, model Muslimah is condemned as a feminist the moment she starts speaking up for women's rights - or speaking up about anything at all, for that matter.
In short, rather than freaking out about feminism (and arguing about how it's 'kufr'), orthodox Muslims need to fix the major problems in our communities that lead to people seeking out feminism as a solution to begin with.
If we are so concerned with people 'abandoning the Shari'ah' allegedly because of feminism, we should be more concerned with *why* people are doing so - and the answer is very obvious. It is because we, the Muslim Ummah as a whole, are hell bent on avoiding dealing with our dirty laundry; in fact, in many cases we seem to want to *preserve* the injustice and oppression we inflict upon each other.
Bottom line: Stop whining about feminism, and start focusing on the very real problems (including and especially misogyny) that have left our Ummah weak and diseased.
May Allah make us amongst those who strive to fight oppression and stand up for the justice found within His Shari'ah (regardless of whether one calls themselves feminist or not ), ameen.
Not only did the Muslimah representative remain largely silent throughout the discussion, but when she did speak, it was to offer weak platitudes and analogies about 'equality' - frankly, it made me cringe.
The video, however, highlighted to me many trends that I see when it comes to discussions about feminism amongst or involving conservative/orthodox Muslims.
For one thing, those who don't identify as feminists usually have skewed perception of feminism; those who do identify as feminists always fall back on the topics of hijab/niqab, polygamy, and 'equal but different'. There is very little mention of the active and important role of women from the very beginning of Islamic history.
Furthermore, orthodox Muslims discussing feminism often seem oblivious to the very existence of intersectional feminism, let alone the larger discussions and trends taking place within it. In general, conservative Muslims focus heavily on secular feminism rather than intersectional feminism, which is much more relevant to both women of faith as well as colour. The former is largely recognized to be exclusionist and limiting, with its focus being primarily on White, middle-class women of privilege.
Sadly, many conservative Muslims use the excuse of 'evil feminism' to deliberately ignore serious issues within our communities, especially with regards to the abuse and (mis)treatment of women. Discussing male privilege within masaajid, the abuse of authority, and how women are blocked from accessing their Shar'i rights are all written off as 'deviant feminism,' regardless of whether or not the individual identifies as a feminist to begin with!
It becomes ironic when even the most ideal, model Muslimah is condemned as a feminist the moment she starts speaking up for women's rights - or speaking up about anything at all, for that matter.
In short, rather than freaking out about feminism (and arguing about how it's 'kufr'), orthodox Muslims need to fix the major problems in our communities that lead to people seeking out feminism as a solution to begin with.
If we are so concerned with people 'abandoning the Shari'ah' allegedly because of feminism, we should be more concerned with *why* people are doing so - and the answer is very obvious. It is because we, the Muslim Ummah as a whole, are hell bent on avoiding dealing with our dirty laundry; in fact, in many cases we seem to want to *preserve* the injustice and oppression we inflict upon each other.
Bottom line: Stop whining about feminism, and start focusing on the very real problems (including and especially misogyny) that have left our Ummah weak and diseased.
May Allah make us amongst those who strive to fight oppression and stand up for the justice found within His Shari'ah (regardless of whether one calls themselves feminist or not ), ameen.
Wednesday, December 24, 2014
"Did A Woman Edit the Qur'an?" - Book Review
Ruqayyah Y Khan's
article-turned-book "Did A Woman Edit the Qur'an? Hafsah and Her
Codex" has garnered some amount of attention as being daring and
revolutionary in the field of Muslim feminist Qur'anic studies. Although being
aware of the obvious agenda that was likely behind it, I was most certainly
intrigued by the focus on Hafsah bint 'Umar (radhiAllahu 'anha) and her role in
the preservation of the Qur'an.
Despite the incredible potential that this book could have had, I was sorely disappointed by the almost bizarre way that certain basic facts regarding the Qur'an and the biography of Hafsah (radhiAllahu 'anha) were glossed over.
To begin with, the title of the book is both obvious and unsubtle with regards to the agenda it is pushing forward; the continued use of the phrase 'edit the Qur'an' makes it clear that the author is approaching the subject from the perspective of one who does not consider the Qur'an to be perfect (which is a common enough belief amongst many progressive groups). Despite expecting this perspective in the first place, I found the thread of intellectual dishonesty that ran through the entire work to be extremely distasteful. While numerous hints are provided about how the suhuf (scrolls/ manuscripts) of Hafsah (radhiAllahu 'anaha) differed from the standard mus'haf Uthmaani, there is a deliberate and obvious attempt at implying that her copies different in actual *content* of the Qur'anic ayaat rather than the very obvious and well-known understanding that there were various recitations (qira'aat) of the Qur'an that were known to the early Muslims.
Furthermore, it astounds me that the classically and almost universally known position regarding RasulAllah’s literacy – that he wasn’t – is completely disregarded in the book, as is demonstrated in the following quotation:
“Muḥammad is shown
instructing Hafsạ in the Qur’ān as well as writing Qur’ānic verses for her.
Abu l-Aswad related [that] ‘Urwa b. al-Zūbayr said, “People differed over the recitation of ‘Those who disbelieve from among the People of Book . . . ’[Q 98: 1], so ‘Umar b. al-Khatṭ ạ̄ b came to Hafsạ , [bringing] with [him a scrap of ] leather (adīm). He said: When the Messenger of God comes to you, ask him to teach you ‘Those who disbelieve from among the People of the Book’ . . . and tell him to write it for you on this [scrap of ] leather. She did [this], and he [i.e., Muḥammad] wrote it for her. This reading became public and widespread [’āmma]. (Ibn Wahb 2003: 62)"
As a non-expert on seerah, I found it mind-boggling that one of the most basic facts regarding the Messenger of Allah (sallAllahu ‘alayhi wa sallam) and indeed, one of the most amazing aspects of the miracle of the Qur’an itself, was completely ignored and in fact denied here. After all, RasulAllah was known very specifically as "nabiyy umiyy" - the illiterate Prophet!
Three questions immediately came to mind as I read this quote: How accurate is this quote (e.g. is it given in context with regards to its placement in the original author’s work), how correct is its translation, and how authentic is the quote itself?
Khan goes on to say:
“‘Umar is shown as asking Hafṣa to edit the Qur’ān on the basis of Muḥammad “teaching” her the correct recitation and writing of the said verse."
This, by itself, highlighted to me both the obvious agenda (once again, the usage of the phrase ‘edit the Qur’an’) and ignorance of the entire process of the recording, preservation, and transmission of the Qur’an. In addition, combined with the previous quote allegedly from Ibn Wahb, it seems rather clear to me that the issue was not the actual wording of the verses, but the qiraa’ah (recitation) of them instead. As well, this insistence that Hafsah (radhiAllahu 'anha) alone had some kind of monopoly on the written text of the Qur'an is either ignorant of or deliberately glossing over the entire communal effort and process of the preservation of the Qur'an - that which is known as a whole as the system of the sanad (chain of narration).
One particular section in Khan’s work is where she discusses the relationship between RasulAllah (sallAllahu ‘alayhi wa sallam) and Hafsah (radhiAllahu ‘anha), going so far as to claim that she was his ‘least favourite wife’ and “there is nothing in the sources to suggest that there was a spark of attraction and/or affection between them in the stage before their marriage.”
Not only does this somehow imply that RasulAllah (sallAllahu 'alayhi wa sallam) was involved with any of his wives before marriage, but it also completely disregards the famous story of how RasulAllah married Hafsah (radhiAllahu 'anha). When her first husband was martyred, Umar went to both Abu Bakr and Uthmaan asking if they wanted to marry Hafsah. Both of them demurred, and Umar was dejected and went to RasulAllah to complain about them. In turn, RasulAllah told him "Hafsah shall marry someone better than Uthmaan, and Uthmaan will marry someone better than Hafsah." In this way, RasulAllah proposed marriage to Hafsah through 'Umar - and it was his intention to marry Hafsah which both Abu Bakr and Uthmaan had been aware of.
What grated on my nerves most, however, was a rather bizarre fixation on the alleged stigma behind the one-divorce of Hafsah (radhiAllahu 'anha) and how it affected her status amongst not only the wives of RasulAllah, but as one of the most important people involved in the role of preserving the Qur'an.
In "Did A Woman Edit the Qur'an?" itself, Khan refrains from mentioning the cause of Hafsah's divorce, despite the fact that the incident surrounding which most scholars mention in the tafseer of Surah at-Tahreem as one of the related asbaab an-nuzool - reasons for revelation). Strangely, Khan implies that because of this incident, Hafsah (radhiAllahu 'anha) was somehow considered 'lesser' or simply not taken as seriously by the wider Muslim community and later scholars. The emphasis on her divorce also ignores the time that RasulAllah (sallAllahu 'alayhi wa sallam) offered all his wives the option of divorce.
Finally, despite Khan stating in her introduction that the focus of her book is 'modern western scholarship on how the Qur’ān came to be compiled and codified,' there are various statements and phrasing in the book that imply that classical Islamic scholars are at fault for minimizing or erasing the true extent of Hafsah's influence with regards to her role in the preservation of the Qur'an.
For example:
"It is at least worth asking: could the classical Islamic tradition have devised this first story (regarding Abū Bakr–‘Umar) to suppress and marginalize agency attributed to Hafṣa as regards editing and/or writing the sheets of the Qur’ān (i.e., ṣuḥuf)?"
Essentially, she seems to be making the case for a vast conspiracy theory that sought to render Hafsah (radhiAllahu 'anha) as irrelevant to one of the most important events of Islamic history... a theory which relies heavily on making it seem that Hafsah alone played a crucial role in preserving the Qur'an, and ignoring the vast and complex science that was developed specifically for that purpose.
Nonetheless, with all the above having been mentioned, I will say that the one aspect in which Khan did well was discussing Hafsah (radhiAllahu 'anha) with regards to her literacy and intelligence, and her close relationship with her father, 'Umar ibn al-Khattab (radhiAllahu 'anhu).
As has been noted in a previous #ForgottenHeroines article, 'Umar (radhiAllahu 'anhu) was known as Abu Hafs - a remarkable occurrence when considering the extremely misogynistic, patriarchal society he lived in, and despite the fact that he had many sons whom he could - by Arab tradition - been named after instead.
Furthermore, Hafsah is often described as being similar to her father in temperament: "Hafsah had in her nature an aspect of the meaning of her name: She was somewhat stern and tough. Perhaps, she inherited that from her father 'Umar, al-Farooq." (Source: Women Around the Messenger, Muhammad Ali Qutb).
There are various stories about Hafsah and her father: That he would go to her with rebukes regarding her brother, Abdullah ibn 'Umar; that he would as her for political advice during his khilaafah, as well as consult with her on religious matters (including his famous fatwah prohibiting Muslim soldiers to be away from their wives for longer than four months); that the Ummah would approach her to appeal to him on their behalf; and that she was named the executor of his will upon his death.
While some individuals - including Khan - imply that the relationship between Hafsah and 'Umar was one of a man exerting power over his daughter for political influence, it seems to me that what is deliberately disregarded is that rather, they had a bond between them that was one of mutual affection and respect alike. Certainly, Hafsah was known not to be weak willed and easily influenced by others, and 'Umar, despite his reputation for being harsh and stern with men and women alike, remained close to his daughter for the duration of his life. Together, they clearly formed a formidable team which was respected by everyone around them, men and women.
As an academic work, I found "Did A Woman Edit the Qur'an?" to be blatantly biased (which, to be honest, I expected) and also greatly lacking in referencing the positive manner in which the story of Hafsah bint 'Umar (radhiAllahu 'anha) is usually recorded in traditional books of Islamic biographies. Nonetheless, it was a reminder to me of how desperately we need a revival of awareness and knowledge regarding the #ForgottenHeroines of Islam and their influence on Islamic history, and how conservative Muslims need to reclaim the telling of our own stories rather than leaving it up to others to remodel for themselves and their own agendas.
Thursday, April 03, 2014
The Forgotten Heroes Behind #ForgottenHeroines
The forgotten heroines of our Ummah are no exception. For every female scholar, for every woman warrior, for every devout worshipper there was a loving guardian, a firm mentor or a supportive spouse.
The sahabah and tabi’een were well aware of their duties towards their womenfolk. Keeping in mind the hadith that they were shepherds who will be held accountable for their flocks on the Day of Judgement, they made every effort to empower their mothers, sisters, wives, daughters and anyone else under their guardianship.
The Sahabi Who Raised a Scholar
It is narrated from Ibn Jabir and ‘Uthmaan ibn Abi al-‘Aatikah that:
“Umm ad-Dardaa’ was an orphan under the guardianship of Abu ad-Dardaa’; she used to come to the mosques with Abu ad-Dardaa’ in two garments (i.e. her head was not covered; she had not yet attained puberty) and she prayed in the men’s rows and used to sit in the circles of the teachers learning the Qur’an.” This continued until she reached puberty and she then joined the women’s rows in prayer. (Al-Muhaddithaat; Jaami’ al-Hanabilah al-Muzaffaari).
This young orphan girl grew up to become a scholar of such knowledge that she would teach in the Grand Mosque of Damascus and the khalifah of the Islamic Empire, Abdul Malik ibn Marwaan, would sit at her feet as a student.
Without the foresight of Abu ad-Dardaa’, without his deliberate and conscious choices not only to teach her himself but also to create opportunities for her to study from others, Umm ad-Dardaa’ would never have become one of the greatest of the tabi’een. She was known not only for her depth of knowledge, but for the keenness of her mind and the intensity of her worship, even as an old woman.
Awn ibn Abdullah said of her, “We used to come to the assembly of Umm ad-Dardaa’ and remember God there.” Yunus ibn Maysarah reports, “The women used to worship with Umm ad-Dardaa’ and when they became weak from standing they would lean on ropes.”
Who was the man who raised such a prodigious woman? Abu ad-Dardaa’ was a sahabi of Rasul Allah (sallAllahu 'alayhi wa sallam) - an Ansari man who was bound to Salmaan al-Faarsi when Rasul Allah r established the brotherhood (al-Mu’aakhaa’) between the Muhajiroon and the Ansaar.
The stories about his life are many: he was known for being dedicated to worshipping Allah with such fervor that Salmaan al-Faarsi grew alarmed and had to remind him that his wife and his body had a right over him as well. He was known to be courageous in battle, never forsaking an opportunity to offer his life for the sake of Allah I. He valued knowledge and is quoted as having said, “Be a scholar or a student or a person who loves [the scholars] or a follower [of the scholars], but do not be the fifth.” Humayd (one of the reporters) asked Al-Hasan (Al-Basri, who reported this from Abû Al-Dardâ`), “And who is the fifth?” He replied, “A heretic (mubtadi’, religious innovator).” (Ibn ‘Abd Al-Barr, Jâmi’ Bayân Al-‘Ilm 1:142.)
Who else but such a man as Abu ad-Dardaa’ could have raised a woman such as Umm ad-Dardaa’?
The Father of a Faqeeha, the Husband of a Shaykhah
The name Fatimah as-Samarqandiyyah is one that is known based on her personal accomplishments rather than because of the menfolk who surrounded her. When powerful women are linked to famous men, their own merits are usually put to the side in favour of emphasising their position in relation to those men: “the President’s wife”, “the Professor’s daughter”, “the Shaykh’s sister.”
In the case of Fatimah as-Samarqandiyyah, however, we have the opposite case. Fatimah was born in the region of modern-day Uzbekistan, approximately 500 years after the Hijrah. Her father, Muhammad ibn Ahmad, was an imam of the Hanafi madhhab; he was so prominent that other scholars would travel to seek knowledge from him. He is perhaps most well-known for the fact that he wrote a book titled Tuhfat al-Fuqahaa’ and, of course, being the father of Fatimah.
While many knowledgeable men today would elect to devote their attention towards fellow males, Muhammad ibn Ahmad’s priority was his family and his daughter Fatimah in particular. After teaching her all that she knew, to the point where she memorised his book, he ensured that she studied under other famed scholars who excelled in other fields of the Islamic Sciences. When it came to furthering his daughter’s education, Imam Muhammad spared no expense and soon, even as a young woman, Fatimah’s knowledge and intellect were so keen that her father began to refer his students to her.
When Fatimah decided that it was time for her to marry, her criteria for a suitable spouse was exacting. Wealthy men and men of power and nobility came alike to propose to Fatimah; one by one, she turned them away. Eventually, a sincere and earnest young man with neither riches nor influence to his name came forward. Intrigued by his own dedication to seeking knowledge, Fatimah chose her dowry: that the young man write and present to her a book - specifically, a commentary and explanation of her father’s book, Tuhfat al-Fuqahaa’.
This young man’s name was Abu Bakr al-Kasani and he soon became a formidable jurist himself. The father and husband of Fatimah as-Samarqandi worked together as a team, often issuing religious edicts together, but not without first consulting Fatimah, having her review their work and then ensuring that she would hand write the fatwahs and sign her name along with their own.
When Imam Muhammad ibn Ahmad died, Fatimah and Abu Bakr moved to Syria, where they established themselves as a powerhouse couple who not only taught thousands of students, but also built schools and were advisors to the leading scholars of the area. Nur ad-Deen Zinki, the leader of the Islamic Empire at the time, hand-chose Fatimah to be one of his political and religious advisors.
Fatimah’s accomplishments were her own: it was her knowledge, wisdom, understanding and brilliant intellect that commanded attention and influenced an empire. However, it was her father who first cultivated her education and, later, it was her husband who ensured that her career flourished. Without Imam Muhammad ibn Ahmad and Abu Bakr al-Kasani, Fatimah would not have been able to achieve her full potential.
The Sunnah of the Salaf
To celebrate female scholarship in Islam is also to recognise and honour the men who undertook the task of supporting them and pushing them to even greater heights. The Salaf as-Saalih, the pious predecessors, are remembered for their piety and quoted for their knowledge, but few men today are willing to follow in their footsteps and push their mothers, sisters, wives and daughters to achieve excellence.
Looking back to our Islamic history, it is admirable that we find the greatest of Muslim men being those who did their best to encourage their womenfolk in all aspects of life. In truth, there continue to be excellent Muslim men – fathers, brothers, husbands and sons – who tirelessly support the women in their lives to achieve their dreams and ambitions. These are the men who are most conscious of the responsibility they wield as “qawwaamoon,” who understand that Allah I will hold them to account on the Day of Judgement for how they chose to practice their authority. These are the forgotten heroes of the Muslim Ummah; the men who are fostering the next generation of Muslim heroines.
May Allah I bring about yet another era of heroes and heroines in this Ummah; men and women who support each other, encourage each other and push each other to grow stronger in their faith and in their knowledge.
Zainab bint Younus (AnonyMouse) is a young woman who finds constant inspiration in the lives of the Sahabiyaat and other great women in Islamic history. She hopes that every Muslimah is able to identify with the struggles of these inspirational women and follow in their footsteps to become a part of a new generation of powerful Muslim women. She blogs at http://www.thesalafifeminist.blogspot.com
Sunday, March 02, 2014
SISTERS TalkBack! "The Housewife's Lament"
Brooke Benoit voices her opinion about a previously published SISTERS article.
The original writer, Zainab bint Younus, provides her response. Welcome to Talk Back!
As the SISTERS’ team was getting ready to print the October issue I caught a glimpse of one of my favourite writers’, Zainab bint Younus, article, “Forgotten Heroines: The Housewife’s Lament.” In my usual state of feeling overwhelmed about my own housework, I quickly lapped up the article hoping for some pearls of wisdom, a boost of inspiration or maybe even some sort of camaraderie in similarly fatigued arms. What I got was mad. I spewed my irritation at my co-editors who told me to “write a response!”
A few days later, Zainab bint Younus separately pointed out some other rhetoric in the September issue that she felt needed critique and correction. An ‘Ah-ha Moment’ happened and we realised that instead of quietly dismissing these bothersome things, we needed to open up this space - “Talk Back” - in which both readers and writers can discuss things published in SISTERS Magazine that they feel uncomfortable about or are downright wrong in some way. So let’s begin this feature with how I felt about the “The Housewife’s Lament” followed by Zainab’s response.
[Brooke Benoit]: When I got to the portion of your article about Fatima (radhiAllahu 'anha) where you quote the following hadith, I was disappointed and then upset that you used the story in the same way I so commonly see it used in other articles, advices, blogs and so on.
Here is a translation of the hadith:
“Narrated By Ali : Fatima went to the Prophet complaining about the bad effect of the stone hand-mill on her hand. She heard that the Prophet had received a few slave girls. But (when she came there) she did not find him, so she mentioned her problem to 'Aisha. When the Prophet came, 'Aisha informed him about that. 'Ali added, "So the Prophet came to us when we had gone to bed. We wanted to get up (on his arrival) but he said, 'Stay where you are." Then he came and sat between me and her and I felt the coldness of his feet on my abdomen. He said, "Shall I direct you to something better than what you have requested? When you go to bed say 'subhan Allah' thirty-three times, 'alhamdulillah' thirty three times and ‘Allahu akbar' thirty four times, for that is better for you than a servant." (Bukhari)
In “The Housewife’s Lament” you say that “… the Muslims had won a battle and, as a result, had captured several prisoners and other spoils of war,” you then go on to describe Fatima (radhiAllahu 'anha) as asking for a “maidservant” to provide her with some domestic relief. This is how I commonly see this hadith used to dissuade women from asking their husbands to hire domestic help when actually that is not what Fatima (radhiAllahu 'anha) was asking for.
Just as in the translation above, “slave” and“servant” are used interchangeably (as they were nearly the same during the time of the Prophet (sallAllahu 'alayhi wa sallam)) even though they have very different meanings to us. She was asking for a slave, to own another human being who would - under kind treatment or not - work in Fatima’s home without a choice. That is something quite different from hiring someone and I think a much, much more important point than whether or not women are being lackadaisical with their approach to getting their own housework done.
I agree with you, of course, that Fatima (radhiAllahu 'anha) is an excellent example (if not The Example) of how a woman can earn her blessings via caring for her family, but I think a larger point to this particular hadith is overlooked. As an example to the Ummah (all of the Muslims) the Prophet (sallAllahu 'alayhi wa sallam), who was actively pushing for Muslims to manumit slaves, did not want his own daughter to hypocritically go against his activism. He did not want her to have a slave and oppress another human being for her own benefit. Patience is better than that kind of shortcut.
Something I worry about is the way this hadith is often used to support the Super Muslimah role - to make women feel like they are being whiny and unappreciative about how much work they have to do and how much help we do have (via modern appliances and other conveniences). But, in my experience, I don’t know any of these spoiled women we hear about who have a servant for each child and do nothing but watch serials in between trips to the mall and salon. I’m sure these women exist, but I don’t know any personally and I don’t think they are the average SISTERS reader.
Nearly all of the women I know earn an income in addition to caring for their home and balancing those responsibilities is a real burden on them and their marriages.
I think the average SISTERS reader is more likely to be someone who is already doing too much and feels guilty that she can’t do more and be like the respectfully endearing Fatima (radhiAllahu 'anha). I’m worried that while you may have meant to make true housewives feel better about their roles, which can be painfully monotonous and demanding, I think this common misrepresentation of this hadith contributes to inappropriate and damaging guilt. The message is that Fatima (radhiAllahu 'anha) of all people could have had a little help around the house, but she chose to help her husband save some dirhams instead and drudged on by herself - but that’s not entirely true. Sure, he would have had to feed a slave, but he would not have been paying wages. I really see this hadith being about not oppressing people more than being about humbly accepting household drudgery.
[Zainab bint Younus]: First of all, I’ve got to say that I love the idea of Talk Back! Hearing feedback and constructive criticism is great for any writer who is desperate to know what their readers are thinking. I love this opportunity to be able to discuss anything that my readers find disappointing, irritating or flat out terrible.
With regards to The Housewife’s Lament, it’s part of my series titled “Forgotten Heroines”, which aims to re-examine the lives of the sahabiyyaat and women of Islamic history through a different lens: one which is directly relatable and applicable to Muslim women in every situation of life. My first few articles have dealt with very dramatic themes so far – coming of age, women pioneers, true love and (my favourite) how a villainess became a heroine.
My own life is far from dramatic and, one day when I was struggling to write my next FH article, I thought about how I didn’t feel like my life matched up to the standards of the exciting women I’d written about so far. These women were all very inspiring, yes, but what about women like me – housebound mothers who, quite frankly, don’t have the luxury of pioneering anything or saving the world (yet)? I thought about which sahabiyyah best fit this role, as most of my reading and research has currently been focused on women who performed great feats and found the story of Fatima (radhiAllahu 'anha).
To be honest, I hadn’t bothered re-reading her story for a long time because it wasn’t as exciting as the others. And that’s when I had my aha! moment. Out of the four women promised Jannah (Asiyah, queen of Egypt; Maryam bint ‘Imran; Khadijah bint Khuwaylid and Fatimah bint Muhammad), only Fatimah’s adult life was, shall we say, unremarkable.
This was what really inspired me to write about Fatimah – the feeling of kinship with a woman who was surrounded by other women whose lives were, in comparison, full of derring-do. Thus, my usage of the commonly quoted hadith was to show that her life was as monotonous as that of the average housewife and that it was not shameful for her to feel sick of it all or ask for help. The fact that she took her father’s advice and resorted to tasbeeh instead of domestic help is merely an illustration of the type of inner strength (which is what I intended to be the focus) that caused her to be one of those who were guaranteed Jannah – what I personally found to be inspirational.
I also understand and agree with your frustration over how this particular hadith is often used to make women feel guilty or ashamed of themselves. My own raging feminist spirit loathes such tired and reinforced interpretations of ahadith. My intent in quoting this hadith was completely unrelated. Though, as I now re-read my article, I can see where I should have used stronger language to focus on my main point; that one doesn’t have to be a world-famous academic or infamous revolutionary in order to be considered strong or worthy in the Sight of Allah.
I found your take on the hadith to be extremely interesting and certainly a valid one. I appreciate you bringing it to my notice, as I’d never thought of it that way before (and I love learning about the deeper dimensions of ahadith and their meanings)! You never know, it could wind up featuring in another FH article in the future, without the typical interpretation attached to it!
Read the original article that inspired the talk back in SISTERS’ October issue!
Brooke Benoit has been working from home for nearly 15 years and recently took her own advice about outsourcing by hiring someone to cook a hot, delicious meal for her family several times a week.
Zainab bint Younus (AnonyMouse) is a young woman who finds constant inspiration in the lives of the sahabiyyat and other great women in Islamic history. She hopes that every Muslimah is able to
identify with the struggles of these inspirational women and follow in their footsteps to become a part of a new generation of powerful Muslim women. She blogs at http://www.thesalafifeminist.blogspot.com.
The original writer, Zainab bint Younus, provides her response. Welcome to Talk Back!
As the SISTERS’ team was getting ready to print the October issue I caught a glimpse of one of my favourite writers’, Zainab bint Younus, article, “Forgotten Heroines: The Housewife’s Lament.” In my usual state of feeling overwhelmed about my own housework, I quickly lapped up the article hoping for some pearls of wisdom, a boost of inspiration or maybe even some sort of camaraderie in similarly fatigued arms. What I got was mad. I spewed my irritation at my co-editors who told me to “write a response!”
A few days later, Zainab bint Younus separately pointed out some other rhetoric in the September issue that she felt needed critique and correction. An ‘Ah-ha Moment’ happened and we realised that instead of quietly dismissing these bothersome things, we needed to open up this space - “Talk Back” - in which both readers and writers can discuss things published in SISTERS Magazine that they feel uncomfortable about or are downright wrong in some way. So let’s begin this feature with how I felt about the “The Housewife’s Lament” followed by Zainab’s response.
[Brooke Benoit]: When I got to the portion of your article about Fatima (radhiAllahu 'anha) where you quote the following hadith, I was disappointed and then upset that you used the story in the same way I so commonly see it used in other articles, advices, blogs and so on.
Here is a translation of the hadith:
“Narrated By Ali : Fatima went to the Prophet complaining about the bad effect of the stone hand-mill on her hand. She heard that the Prophet had received a few slave girls. But (when she came there) she did not find him, so she mentioned her problem to 'Aisha. When the Prophet came, 'Aisha informed him about that. 'Ali added, "So the Prophet came to us when we had gone to bed. We wanted to get up (on his arrival) but he said, 'Stay where you are." Then he came and sat between me and her and I felt the coldness of his feet on my abdomen. He said, "Shall I direct you to something better than what you have requested? When you go to bed say 'subhan Allah' thirty-three times, 'alhamdulillah' thirty three times and ‘Allahu akbar' thirty four times, for that is better for you than a servant." (Bukhari)
In “The Housewife’s Lament” you say that “… the Muslims had won a battle and, as a result, had captured several prisoners and other spoils of war,” you then go on to describe Fatima (radhiAllahu 'anha) as asking for a “maidservant” to provide her with some domestic relief. This is how I commonly see this hadith used to dissuade women from asking their husbands to hire domestic help when actually that is not what Fatima (radhiAllahu 'anha) was asking for.
Just as in the translation above, “slave” and“servant” are used interchangeably (as they were nearly the same during the time of the Prophet (sallAllahu 'alayhi wa sallam)) even though they have very different meanings to us. She was asking for a slave, to own another human being who would - under kind treatment or not - work in Fatima’s home without a choice. That is something quite different from hiring someone and I think a much, much more important point than whether or not women are being lackadaisical with their approach to getting their own housework done.
I agree with you, of course, that Fatima (radhiAllahu 'anha) is an excellent example (if not The Example) of how a woman can earn her blessings via caring for her family, but I think a larger point to this particular hadith is overlooked. As an example to the Ummah (all of the Muslims) the Prophet (sallAllahu 'alayhi wa sallam), who was actively pushing for Muslims to manumit slaves, did not want his own daughter to hypocritically go against his activism. He did not want her to have a slave and oppress another human being for her own benefit. Patience is better than that kind of shortcut.
Something I worry about is the way this hadith is often used to support the Super Muslimah role - to make women feel like they are being whiny and unappreciative about how much work they have to do and how much help we do have (via modern appliances and other conveniences). But, in my experience, I don’t know any of these spoiled women we hear about who have a servant for each child and do nothing but watch serials in between trips to the mall and salon. I’m sure these women exist, but I don’t know any personally and I don’t think they are the average SISTERS reader.
Nearly all of the women I know earn an income in addition to caring for their home and balancing those responsibilities is a real burden on them and their marriages.
I think the average SISTERS reader is more likely to be someone who is already doing too much and feels guilty that she can’t do more and be like the respectfully endearing Fatima (radhiAllahu 'anha). I’m worried that while you may have meant to make true housewives feel better about their roles, which can be painfully monotonous and demanding, I think this common misrepresentation of this hadith contributes to inappropriate and damaging guilt. The message is that Fatima (radhiAllahu 'anha) of all people could have had a little help around the house, but she chose to help her husband save some dirhams instead and drudged on by herself - but that’s not entirely true. Sure, he would have had to feed a slave, but he would not have been paying wages. I really see this hadith being about not oppressing people more than being about humbly accepting household drudgery.
[Zainab bint Younus]: First of all, I’ve got to say that I love the idea of Talk Back! Hearing feedback and constructive criticism is great for any writer who is desperate to know what their readers are thinking. I love this opportunity to be able to discuss anything that my readers find disappointing, irritating or flat out terrible.
With regards to The Housewife’s Lament, it’s part of my series titled “Forgotten Heroines”, which aims to re-examine the lives of the sahabiyyaat and women of Islamic history through a different lens: one which is directly relatable and applicable to Muslim women in every situation of life. My first few articles have dealt with very dramatic themes so far – coming of age, women pioneers, true love and (my favourite) how a villainess became a heroine.
My own life is far from dramatic and, one day when I was struggling to write my next FH article, I thought about how I didn’t feel like my life matched up to the standards of the exciting women I’d written about so far. These women were all very inspiring, yes, but what about women like me – housebound mothers who, quite frankly, don’t have the luxury of pioneering anything or saving the world (yet)? I thought about which sahabiyyah best fit this role, as most of my reading and research has currently been focused on women who performed great feats and found the story of Fatima (radhiAllahu 'anha).
To be honest, I hadn’t bothered re-reading her story for a long time because it wasn’t as exciting as the others. And that’s when I had my aha! moment. Out of the four women promised Jannah (Asiyah, queen of Egypt; Maryam bint ‘Imran; Khadijah bint Khuwaylid and Fatimah bint Muhammad), only Fatimah’s adult life was, shall we say, unremarkable.
This was what really inspired me to write about Fatimah – the feeling of kinship with a woman who was surrounded by other women whose lives were, in comparison, full of derring-do. Thus, my usage of the commonly quoted hadith was to show that her life was as monotonous as that of the average housewife and that it was not shameful for her to feel sick of it all or ask for help. The fact that she took her father’s advice and resorted to tasbeeh instead of domestic help is merely an illustration of the type of inner strength (which is what I intended to be the focus) that caused her to be one of those who were guaranteed Jannah – what I personally found to be inspirational.
I also understand and agree with your frustration over how this particular hadith is often used to make women feel guilty or ashamed of themselves. My own raging feminist spirit loathes such tired and reinforced interpretations of ahadith. My intent in quoting this hadith was completely unrelated. Though, as I now re-read my article, I can see where I should have used stronger language to focus on my main point; that one doesn’t have to be a world-famous academic or infamous revolutionary in order to be considered strong or worthy in the Sight of Allah.
I found your take on the hadith to be extremely interesting and certainly a valid one. I appreciate you bringing it to my notice, as I’d never thought of it that way before (and I love learning about the deeper dimensions of ahadith and their meanings)! You never know, it could wind up featuring in another FH article in the future, without the typical interpretation attached to it!
Read the original article that inspired the talk back in SISTERS’ October issue!
Brooke Benoit has been working from home for nearly 15 years and recently took her own advice about outsourcing by hiring someone to cook a hot, delicious meal for her family several times a week.
Zainab bint Younus (AnonyMouse) is a young woman who finds constant inspiration in the lives of the sahabiyyat and other great women in Islamic history. She hopes that every Muslimah is able to
identify with the struggles of these inspirational women and follow in their footsteps to become a part of a new generation of powerful Muslim women. She blogs at http://www.thesalafifeminist.blogspot.com.
Friday, October 25, 2013
When Beauty is Not to Blame
Ibn
Abbas narrated: A beautiful woman, from among the most beautiful of
women, used to pray behind the Prophet. Some of the people used to go to
pray in the first row to ensure they would not be able to see her.
Others would pray in the last row of the men, and they would look from
underneath their armpits [in rukoo' and sujood] to see her. Because of
this act, in regard to her, Allah revealed, "Verily We know the eager among you to be first, and verily We know the eager among you to be behind." (Surah al-Hijr ayah 24)
(Ibn Majah, Abu Dawud Tayalisi, Baihaqi, Ahmad, Tirmidhi, and Nasai and it is judged sahih by Albani. He includes it as #2472 in his Silsilat al-Ahadith as-Sahih)
Why is this narration so fascinating? Because it reveals how even in the time of RasulAllah (sallAllahu 'alayhi wa sallam), the Sahabah had differing levels of emaan and even in salah - a time when all worldly desires are meant to be put aside - they still acted upon their desires.
Yet to me, the most interesting part of this narration is that when Allah sent down a revelation concerning this situation, He did not rebuke the woman - He rebuked the men who forgot their khushoo', the men who forgot that Allah is Ever-Watching, the men who forgot that Allah can easily expose those who claim piety yet act in a contrary manner. Allah is the One Who reminded these men that their intentions are fully known to Him.
Note the way that Ibn 'Abbas (radhiAllahu 'anhu) shared this story. This woman was publicly known, and though her name is not mentioned in the narration, her identity was obviously common knowledge amongst the people of Medinah.
It was also known that the pious men were those who made a point of fighting temptation by removing themselves from a situation where they would feel weak, whereas those whose emaan was weaker were those who purposely lingered behind to indulge their desires.
Now, can you imagine the embarrassment and shame of those men who were publicly rebuked by Allah? Can you imagine having all of Medinah *and* those who were visiting Madinah at the time, knowing that *your* weak and sinful behavior was the cause of Allah sending down Divine Revelation to warn you of His Knowledge? This aayah was and remains a public reminder and rebuke to all Muslim men who attempt to dress up their inappropriate behavior with a guise of 'religiousness.' It is a reminder that Muslim men are responsible for lowering their gazes, for controlling their behavior, for removing themselves from a situation where they feel weak. It is a reminder that they CANNOT blame their own weakness of faith, character, or actions on women!
This anecdote, combined with other ahadeeth that discuss the relationship of men and women in the public sphere (the masjid), display how RasulAllah (sallAllahu 'alayhi wa sallam) trained his Companions in the appropriate way of interacting with the other gender.
For example, RasulAllah (sallAllahu 'alayhi wa sallam) made it a habit to remain sitting forward (towards the qiblah) after his tasleem, giving the women a chance to leave the masjid before the men (remember, there was no physical barrier between the men and women at the time). He displayed respect towards these women (including and especially those who did not wear niqab), and thus trained his male Companions do act similarly.
Alas, both Muslim men and women alike have forgotten the beautiful akhlaaq and adab that *should* mark our actions, especially in mixed-gender interactions. Thus we have an Ummah which has gone to two extremes: attempting to segregate the genders to an unhealthy level to the point where a simple, innocent conversation is considered zina; or throwing out any notion of hijab, lowering the gaze, and considering any and all behaviour between the genders - even zina - to be acceptable.
In both cases, diseased hearts are created and fostered, because there is no holistic understanding of the Qur'an and Sunnah. Islam came to transform the Ummah from one of ignorance to one of beauty, honour, dignity, and respect. To reach that state, we *must* go back to the understanding of RasulAllah (sallAllahu 'alayhi wa sallam) and his Companions. Only then can we possibly start seeing the men and women of this Ummah coming together, as they were meant to be, to cooperate upon birr and taqwa: goodness and righteousness.
#ForgottenHeroines
(Ibn Majah, Abu Dawud Tayalisi, Baihaqi, Ahmad, Tirmidhi, and Nasai and it is judged sahih by Albani. He includes it as #2472 in his Silsilat al-Ahadith as-Sahih)
Why is this narration so fascinating? Because it reveals how even in the time of RasulAllah (sallAllahu 'alayhi wa sallam), the Sahabah had differing levels of emaan and even in salah - a time when all worldly desires are meant to be put aside - they still acted upon their desires.
Yet to me, the most interesting part of this narration is that when Allah sent down a revelation concerning this situation, He did not rebuke the woman - He rebuked the men who forgot their khushoo', the men who forgot that Allah is Ever-Watching, the men who forgot that Allah can easily expose those who claim piety yet act in a contrary manner. Allah is the One Who reminded these men that their intentions are fully known to Him.
Note the way that Ibn 'Abbas (radhiAllahu 'anhu) shared this story. This woman was publicly known, and though her name is not mentioned in the narration, her identity was obviously common knowledge amongst the people of Medinah.
It was also known that the pious men were those who made a point of fighting temptation by removing themselves from a situation where they would feel weak, whereas those whose emaan was weaker were those who purposely lingered behind to indulge their desires.
Now, can you imagine the embarrassment and shame of those men who were publicly rebuked by Allah? Can you imagine having all of Medinah *and* those who were visiting Madinah at the time, knowing that *your* weak and sinful behavior was the cause of Allah sending down Divine Revelation to warn you of His Knowledge? This aayah was and remains a public reminder and rebuke to all Muslim men who attempt to dress up their inappropriate behavior with a guise of 'religiousness.' It is a reminder that Muslim men are responsible for lowering their gazes, for controlling their behavior, for removing themselves from a situation where they feel weak. It is a reminder that they CANNOT blame their own weakness of faith, character, or actions on women!
This anecdote, combined with other ahadeeth that discuss the relationship of men and women in the public sphere (the masjid), display how RasulAllah (sallAllahu 'alayhi wa sallam) trained his Companions in the appropriate way of interacting with the other gender.
For example, RasulAllah (sallAllahu 'alayhi wa sallam) made it a habit to remain sitting forward (towards the qiblah) after his tasleem, giving the women a chance to leave the masjid before the men (remember, there was no physical barrier between the men and women at the time). He displayed respect towards these women (including and especially those who did not wear niqab), and thus trained his male Companions do act similarly.
Alas, both Muslim men and women alike have forgotten the beautiful akhlaaq and adab that *should* mark our actions, especially in mixed-gender interactions. Thus we have an Ummah which has gone to two extremes: attempting to segregate the genders to an unhealthy level to the point where a simple, innocent conversation is considered zina; or throwing out any notion of hijab, lowering the gaze, and considering any and all behaviour between the genders - even zina - to be acceptable.
In both cases, diseased hearts are created and fostered, because there is no holistic understanding of the Qur'an and Sunnah. Islam came to transform the Ummah from one of ignorance to one of beauty, honour, dignity, and respect. To reach that state, we *must* go back to the understanding of RasulAllah (sallAllahu 'alayhi wa sallam) and his Companions. Only then can we possibly start seeing the men and women of this Ummah coming together, as they were meant to be, to cooperate upon birr and taqwa: goodness and righteousness.
#ForgottenHeroines
Thursday, June 06, 2013
Forgotten Heroines - Introduction
Muslim women in the West
today are in a seemingly unique position: often straddling two worlds, that of
their family’s ethnic culture and that of their Western country of residence;
struggling to both revive their faith and their intellect; managing a balancing
act of family and career.
Often, we feel alone,
stranded in circumstances for which there is no textbook manual on how to do it
all right. Surely we can’t be the only generation of Muslim women to face such
trials! And, in fact, we aren’t. Islamic history books are filled with stories
of exemplary Muslim women, young and old, who navigated cultures spanning from
Asia and Arabia to Europe.
These inspiring women came
of age in environments eerily similar to our own: Fatimah bint Muhammad (sallAllahu ‘alayhi wa
sallam), whose early teen years were spent struggling through the difficult
first days of Islam in Makkah; and Ama
bint Khalid, who grew up in the Christian country of Abyssinia during the
lifetime of the Prophet Muhammad (sallAllahu ‘alayhi wa sallam). They dealt
with feelings of isolation, cultural differences, and the struggles faced by
the pioneers of a new way. They fell in love, fought in wars, and achieved
heights of scholarship envied by men.
From the Sahaabiyaat
(female Companions) to shaykhaat (female scholars) in our own times, Muslim women have
always had powerful female figures to look up to and emulate. Unfortunately,
however, these inspiring women have been forgotten and marginalized by their
own people, to the detriment of all Muslims, both men and women.
Now, we hope to revive and
relive our neglected history. By bringing to light not only the exploits of
these heroines, but their humanity as well, we aim to build a direct connection
and sense of relevance between the current generations of Muslim women, and
those who created legacies before us.
Zainab bint Younus
(AnonyMouse) is a young woman who
finds constant inspiration in the lives of the Sahabiyaat and other great women
in Islamic history. She hopes that every Muslimah is able to identify with the
struggles of these inspirational women and follow in their footsteps to become
a part of a new generation of powerful Muslim women. She blogs at http://www.thesalafifeminist.blogspot.com
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