MMW thanks Jessamy for the tip!

Recently we were directed to a series of television commercials airing on Egyptian TV. These commercials, made by Terrorism Has No Religion, are aimed at countering terrorism and Muslim extremism. In their words, Terrorism Has No Religion’s message is:

Recitation of the Qur’an can be a spiritual experience for even those who don’t understand Arabic. The sounds and rhythms of the words remind listeners of the Qur’an’s poetry. For those who do understand Arabic, the experience is only more profound. In the Muslim world, the professional Qur’an reciter (qari’) releases tapes and CDs and become a famous figure. But it doesn’t take long to realize almost all Qur’an reciters are men.

I turned to The Art of Reciting the Qur’an by Kristina Nelson to find what I could about the female reciter, the qari’a. The index references only two pages. These turn out to be nothing more than a footnote.

Nelson writes, “The professional female reciter participates in another tradition, in which musicality is largely unconscious (and which men dismiss as ‘having no art’).” Instead of public figures, women perform only for other women and “the presence of the audience can be attributed more to the particular occasion than to her particular talent as a reciter.”

The Qur’an is at the heart of Islam. Why would recitation of it be so limited to men? According to Muslims who consider female recitation haram, a woman’s voice is inappropriate for men outside her family to hear. The assumption is that it invokes sexual desire in what should be spiritual and chaste.

So, if you’re looking for Qur’an recitations by females, you’ll have a hard time. In international recitation competitions, women have participated, in growing numbers, since 1965. Female recitation is not marketed or distributed the same way. Even on YouTube it’s hard to find recitations by females — that are neither for females only or clearly not public figures. There is an abundance of clips of little girls, even as young as two and three, hardly out of babyhood, reciting Qur’an, but no indication of what happens to them when they lose the cute baby faces. At the same time, you’ll have no problem finding women performing in other realms, such as film and music, as household names.

Southeast Asia is the prime exception to the rule. In this region of the world — primarily Malaysia and Indonesia but also Thailand, Brunei, the Philippines, Cambodia, and Singapore — female reciters do rise to the professional level. It’s not clear what makes these countries special, but they’re among the exceptions that pop up here and there. Egypt has had female reciters —Umm Kalthoum was broadcast reciting the Qur’an in the 1930s and 40s and 12-year-old Somaya Abdul ‘Aziz has been featured recently — but the art is dominated by men, as it is elsewhere. Another exception is Michael Sell’s book, Approaching the Qur’an, which includes a companion CD of Qur’an recitations for the reader can experience the sound of the Qur’an. The CD contains two female reciters: Hajjah Maria Ulfah of Indonesia (internationally recognized qari’a and “a bona fide celebrity,” pictured right) and Seemi Bushra Ghazi of Canada (professor at the University of British Columbia). Not only is the book not for a female-only audience, it does not even note the gender of the reciters included.

Again, these are the exceptions. Female recitation is generally ignored by the media — radio, CDs, tapes, and television show men as reciters — due to negative societal attitudes towards women reciting. Not only are these views patriarchal (women should have no authority over men), sexist (men’s voices cannot ever be “sexual”), heterocentric (men are aroused by women’s voices), hypersexual (a woman’s voice, even reciting sacred text, is sexy), they’re also objectifying: a woman is nothing more than the sexual messages her voice exudes. Females seem only to be appreciated for their recitation when they are of ages so young they can be trotted out as miraculous.

Leaving women out of an experience so profoundly spiritual — or delegating them to second class — implies that women’s spiritual capacity is burdened by their inescapable sensuality. According to this attitude, men can serve as religious public figures, but women aren’t pure enough for that. In effect it denies Muslim women the same connection to the Qur’an, the core of Islam, that men have. That doesn’t sound very Islamic to me.

And why is this issue not even discussed? I have yet to see a book or article on female Qur’an reciters. Besides on discussions on forums, email lists, and in occasional parts of academic books, this topic isn’t even considered. When will the media recognize that the Qur’an reciter is not always a man?

NPR, or National Public Radio, currently has a series playing in regards to Muslim women, mainly those living in Europe - a continent in which Muslims are notorious for poor integration. The series, entitled Exploring the Status of Muslim Women in Europe, begins with an introductory story about the integration of Muslim women in Europe explaining how their integration is being seen as integral to the integration of Muslims in general.

The first story in the series in on Muslim women in Germany who are mostly of Turkish descent. The majority of these women are uneducated and isolated from German society. Fearing the degradation of their community, Muslim men encourage such isolation to curb any Westernization among Muslim women. Many of these women, 49%, face sexual or physical violence from their homes. Many are forced to marry men from the home-country. They also face discrimination from mainstream German society.

The next story in the series is on a Turkish-German human rights lawyer/activist Seyran Ates who explains how threats from Islamists and ultra-conservatives have forced her to close shop in Germany. Angry husbands of Muslim women she has defended have threatened and even physically attacked her. Ates blames multiculturalism for supporting Islamists and not denouncing their patriarchal and sexist attitudes and behaviours, and therefore for the poor status of Muslim women in Germany. Herself having run away from such a home as a teenager, Ates recognizes that Islam is not the problem but rather those who use Islam to justify for selfish political agendas. Ates paints a very bleak picture for Muslim women in Germany - being oppressed and isolated by their own community, and neglected and ignored by mainstream German society.

The third story in this series focuses on young, South Asian descent British Muslim women who have placed their religion above being British. They have found their identity to be the political form of Islam. Feeling discriminated against after 9-11, many are isolating themselves from British society by not voting until there is Shariah law. Many have started to don the black niqab, discarding their traditional colourful dupattas in an attempt to make a political statement and asserting their identity. Writer and researcher Muneera Mirza calls this new identity a confrontational identity. Such Muslim women have become more Islamic and anti-West, yet take on the Western values of female individuality and being publicly vocal. However, some female Muslim university students, although still advocating sex segregation, have hopes of taking over mosques as they recognize the patriarchy and sexism inherent in the institutions so far.

With the exception of the final points of the latter program, it appears from NPR's series that things are very bleak for Muslim women in Europe. From painting a desperate picture of Muslim women in Germany to a scary one in Britain, it would appear that Muslim women in Europe are extremely dysfunctional. Where were the moderate, educated and progressive voices? Where were the women who were integrated and proud to be Muslim? Perhaps there are none, but that seems unlikely. Or perhaps there were not enough for a story. Are things really this bad in Europe? The series did throw in a few voices like that of Ates and Mirza, but they seemed to be the exception to the rule commenting on the situation, almost as outsiders.

Going back to the introduction of the series in which it was stated that Muslim women's integration reflects the integration of Muslims in general, it would seem that our Muslim community in Europe is doomed to isolation and dysfunction in some form or another. If we were to believe the stories being told by NPR (as well as most of the media stories about European Muslims) we would want to curl up in a ball and cry. I'm not saying we should not believe what we have heard. After all, these problems exist. However, a balanced view would have been appreciated. I'm sure the other side exists. I'm sure they're around. The media has yet to find them and show their story. Or maybe things really are that bad.

One day, out of idle curiosity, I entered the phrase “Muslim women” into Google. Links to Wikipedia articles and organization homepages appeared, but what caught my eye was the row at the top: “Image results for Muslim women,” with a selection of three. My slow Internet connection made me wait for the pictures to load. The first was a photograph of two women in full black niqab. As the second loaded slowly, I expected to see a hijabi. No, just more women in full niqab — this time not black but white. Surely the third picture wouldn’t also be a niqabi. Probably a hijabi, I thought, faint hopes of a non-hijabi already gone. The third picture was far from a niqabi. It was a Miss Universe contestant, clad in nothing but a bikini and several necklaces.


Well, this is an interesting statement on the view of Muslim women, I thought. Do people see us as defined only by very conservative dress (which only few women adopt) and sex appeal? That’s what this sampling of images would suggest. I clicked to see more images. It doesn’t get much better. On the first page of images, the niqab appears disproportionately frequently. The majority of the photos link back to articles about dress: wedding dresses, ice-skating outfits, hospital gowns, and general wearing of “the veil.” There’s a disturbing image of a nude woman, face veiled, with explosives strapped to her body. Not surprisingly, it links back to an Islamophobic page about “the depraved evil that is Islam,” explaining that women are the “toilet bowls of Islam.” How lovely that this is the eighth-highest image illustrating “Muslim women.”

If you do the same search now, the results will be the same, only the image bar has moved to the bottom of the results. Below it is a list of “searches related to Muslim women.” This list also serves as an interesting insight into the image of Muslim women. It’s not a surprise that “Muslim women clothing” is first. Amongst Muslims and non-Muslims alike, clothing seems the easiest thing by which to judge Muslim women. Some other depressing results were “Muslim women abuse” and “treatment of Muslim women.”

To compare, I tried searching for “Christian women,” “Jewish women,” and “Hindu women.” The related searches for first two were notably more positive (“Christian women speakers,” “famous Jewish women”) and lacked any image bar. Perhaps people have no interest in seeing such “normal”-looking women? “Hindu women,” on the other hand, did result in a sample of images. I guess Hinduism does count as exotic.

The results of my search were hardly groundbreaking — just depressing. Looking for a silver lining, I clicked on what seemed to be the one picture of a Muslim woman not defined by her clothing. It led to this very cool project by the BBC. It’s a brief collection of mini-profiles of Muslim women from a conference in New York. Unlike the Google results, this sampling of women is diverse, from ethnic background to style of dress, and realistic. While Google failed miserably, the BBC should be applauded for its excellent portrayal of real Muslim women.

According to the BBC introduction, the conference was sponsored by the American Society for Muslim Advancement. I don’t know what else ASMA has done, but this video at least is definitely an improvement from the stereotypical and objectifying image Google paints of Muslim women.



So... Toilet bowls? I think not.

I thought since I haven’t written about Little Mosque on the Prairie for awhile, why not now? Last night’s episode dealt with crushes. Layla, Baber’s daughter, has a crush on a boy in her Qur’an class. She confides in Rayyan and Amaar on the condition that they not tell her father. Amaar wants to inform Baber whereas Rayyan thinks they should let it be and not say anything unless it gets serious. ( I wonder if him being a man and her being a woman had anything to do with their opinions?) Jokes are thrown around about the consequences of Baber finding out – he’d send Layla to Pakistan or force her to wear a burqa. However, Baber over hears Rayyan and Amaar talking about it but thinks that they have a crush on each other. And the antics follow.

The fact that LMOTP tackled the issue of Muslim teenage crushes, especially that of a teenage daughter of a conservative fundamentalist, is noteworthy. As I was watching, I could not help but think about the latest stories we’ve heard of Muslim teenage daughters being killed or punished severely by their fathers for not being traditional enough. Of course, on the show they could easily joke about the possible consequences that Layla could face if her father were to find out she had a crush on a boy. But what we have seen in the media are not things to joke about. However, they are also not the norm. By making light of the father-daughter dynamic the show did demonstrate father-teenage daughter tensions as similar to those that occur in non-Muslim households. Yes, there are disagreements; yes there are punishments for behaviours deemed inappropriate by the parents. But usually there are no beatings, no threats, no murder. Just like a Muslim household. LMOTP has been trying to show this Muslim father-daughter relationship as the “usual” father-daughter relationship, but with some specific Muslim issues (hijab, male friends, sinful crushes).

As many will have figured out by now, LMOTP portrays a certain group of Muslims who follow Islam in a certain way. Although many Muslims may agree with most of the message, the message is still a conservative one. With Amaar’s concern about Layla’s crush the show tells its viewers that this is something worth concern. I mean, if an imam sees it as telling-a-parent-worthy, then it’s serious. This may be a point of contention for many. What the big deal with a crush after all? Even Rayyan felt there was no need to tall Baber unless it became serious.

But why was it serious for Amaar? What is LMOTP trying to tell us about Muslims and crushes? The most obvious answer which comes to mind is that having crushes is wrong. Wrong because it’s a dangerous road. Crushes in and of themselves are fine. But it’s what they can lead to which must be monitored and prevented by parents. Now, I am not saying that this is bad or good. This is up to the reader/viewer to decide according to their values. However, the sinfulness of crushes certainly did seem to be portrayed in the show. It seems LMOTP continues to tell us how we really should be thinking. Again, you decide what you think of that.

The Egyptian film Heen Maysara (حين ميسرة) was released on Eid last year. Since then, it’s been making headlines in the English-speaking blogosphere. Could this be due to the film’s popularity at the box-office? Perhaps people are intrigued by its look at the slums of Cairo? But no. The coverage is on the negative attention Heen Maysara has received. Because of one same-sex scene, the film has been condemned by Islamic scholars for “spreading homosexuality and promoting debauchery,” according to an Al Arabiya article. Critics points to a scene in which a lesbian character tries to seduce a female prostitute, culminating in a kiss. According to a professor of Islamic law quoted in the article, “This is the influence of immoral Western culture which controls the media.” He explained that movie sex scenes are sinful. (He also attributes lesbianism to a “Zionist conspiracy” — not a wise move if you want to be taken seriously.)

Homosexuality in Islam is a complex issue. Sexual morality is an even bigger, more complicated issue. While properly addressing these issues is difficult, criticizing a film for sexual content is easy. And in the case of Heen Maysara, it’s not even what the film is about.

If the trailer can be any judge of the film’s content, sex is hardly a main issue of the film. Lesbianism less so. Women appear to be secondary characters. While men argue, fight, and threaten each other (and women), women’s roles include looking upset, throwing themselves into men’s arms, and acting sexy. They also face quite a bit of abuse. Besides shots of women crying, screaming, and being slapped, there’s a disturbing clip of a woman being thrown violently on a bed by a group of men (see photo). It doesn’t take much to guess what that might be about.

I’ll admit: I haven’t seen more than the trailer, and my understanding of the Arabic dialogue goes as far a few phrases here and there. But it seems to me that there are bigger concerns than the scene that made scholars demand the prosecution of the director and female actors.

A quick search on the film reveals that its main issues are poverty, violence, and political corruption. A review by Hussein Shobokshi described the film as “one of the most significant films to emerge from the Arab film industry for years. It is a two hour thesis about the economic status of the society and its failure, and how part of society could transform into a time bomb that is ready to explode.” The Arab entertainment website Yallabina writes that the film “provides a vision of the poverty in the Egyptian society, and offers a humanitarian and politically daring story of the most important issues and crises of this category of people, who have their own culture and suffer from neglect by the government.”

It’s good to hear that the film is more than an action flick of car crashes, knife-waving men, and belly-dancing women. One viewer wrote that the film “makes us face a painful, sad reality that we live but do not sense.” I hope the depth and insight described apply to the portrayal of women, who don’t seem to fare too well in the trailer. And I’m waiting for the day scholars make headlines speaking out against poverty more loudly than they do calling for the censorship of movies.

Since I was first introduced to it, I’ve been a fan of the radio program This American Life. Each episode of the weekly show looks at a “theme” and fills the hour with stories — real and fictional — of different experiences that reflect the theme. Some stories inspire, some bring tears to my eyes, and some make me laugh out loud (some do all three). I look forward to the weekly podcast. So when I heard the teasers for the upcoming episode “Shouting Across the Divide” — on the failed attempts of Muslims and non-Muslims to communicate — I was intrigued but also a little worried. Coverage of Muslims in the media is ridden with stereotypes, misrepresentation, and incomplete information. Then again, TAL was actually considering the stories of Muslims. Ironically, this conflict could actually fall under the theme of the show.

The Jan. 4 episode is divided into three parts. First, the prologue discusses with a CAIR spokesman the issue of having a statue of the Prophet Muhammad in the Supreme Court. Respectful? Offensive? Well-intentioned? Stereotypical? It’s an interesting topic and it sets the stage for the theme of the show.

Act One tells the story of Serry, an American woman who convinced her Palestinian husband to move the family from the West Bank to the United States to raise their children. The irony is that, instead of the peaceful childhood Serry imagined for them, her children faced intense harassment by other students — for being Muslim, after 9/11. This story, which takes up the bulk of the hour and is the most emotionally compelling, is the best part of the episode. In fact, journalist Alix Spiegel won a journalism award for the segment. Serry and her daughter Chloe describe the difficulties they faced living after 9/11 in homogeneous New Jersey suburb. Serry, who wears hijab, received the middle finger from fellow drivers; she flashed a peace sign in return. Once Chloe’s teacher handed out a pamphlet explaining that “Muslims want to kill Christians,” her fourth-grade classmates began to look at her suspiciously and call her “Osama.” The harassment reached the point that fourth-grade Chloe and her father, watching his daughter suffer, became severely depressed.

One of the most interesting parts is the discussion of Chloe’s response. Facing teasing, rejection, and her teacher’s words that she will burn in hell, Chloe finds she cannot handle being Muslim anymore: “She sat down with her mother and explained that it was all too much pressure.” Instead of rejecting their daughter, Chloe’s parents take the news with sadness but also make accommodations. In Serry’s words, “We stopped practicing as we used to.” Wow. Stories of Muslims being harassed is nothing new. I’ve heard many of those stories: Muslim children are bullied at school, hijabis face discrimination, and teenagers have to explain that they are not terrorists. Throughout it, they stand up against the harassment (and often sue) and their faith never wavers. Chloe’s story is something new. Serry’s faith is described as very important to her — “It’s what gets her up in the mornings” — but she feels the pressure too, and the family skips Ramadan one year. When the children transfer to new schools, they don’t tell their new friends that they’re Muslim. It’s certainly not a faith-inspiring story, but it points to the situation of American Muslims today. Islamophobia is at the point that it’s often easier to just not bring up the topic of religion with non-Muslims. Being openly Muslim requires a “coming-out” process that may, as in Chloe’s case, not be worth it. This is a fascinating topic I would love to see more investigation into.

(For the record, Chloe returns to being Muslim and her family does sue the school district for unfair treatment.)

Journalist Alix Spiegel introduces the story with sensitivity. She pronounces “Muslim” as Serry and Chloe do (unlike TAL host Ira Glass, who says “Muhzlim”). She says “God,” not “Allah.” She lets Serry and Chloe’s own words carry the story. The piece is very well done overall, and I hope it opens eyes of people similar to the dangerously ignorant classmates and neighbors who made Serry’s family miserable. It’s also refreshing to hear the voices of Muslim women — when it’s not even about hijab! (Serry’s hijab is casually mentioned when relevant, but it is neither turned into a big deal nor described as a requirement of Islam.) Too frequently Muslim women’s voices only come up when the discussion is either modest dress or the oppression and abuse of women in the name of Islam. In other cases, men define Islam. Here that’s not the case. (The photo on the website, however, features traditional-looking Muslim men, seated on the floor. Does this illustrate Muslims?)

Unfortunately, the show goes downhill after Act One. Act Two is the experience of a Jewish man working for an advertising company, assigned to a project to “sell American values” to the Arab world (half the time referred to simply as “Muslims”). It’s not clear whether it’s Muslims or Arabs they’re targeting, and there are some awkward moments when the issue of Israel comes up. As a radio story, it’s told well. There are moments of humor and irony. The ad company’s disturbingly racist attitude towards African-Americans is portrayed clearly. But for the theme of the show, this segment doesn’t seem too relevant or necessary. Muslims are painted as a foreign-living entity whose shared belief is anger with Israel. The interchangeable use of “Arab” and “Muslim” is inaccurate and misleading, and the story carries the implication that Muslims and America are intrinsically opposed. There’s no mention of American Muslims, people whose identities coexist peacefully (such as Serry).

It’s unfortunate that TAL could not find a more appropriate story to complement Act One; it would have made for a much stronger episode overall. Nevertheless, I applaud TAL for its effort and Alix Spiegel for her excellent journalism. I appreciate the inclusion of Muslim stories, even if it has to be in an episode set aside specifically for Muslim stories, but “Shouting Across the Divide” won’t rank among my favorite episodes.

Note: You can download the show in.mp3 format at thislife.org until next week’s show goes up next Monday, after which the download will cost $0.95. However, all non-free shows are available for a free listen through streaming radio.

Last year, the Internet advocacy group Avaaz created the video “Stop the Clash of Civilizations” to complement a petition by the same name. Avaaz, “Talk is rising of a ‘clash of civilizations’. But the problem isn’t culture, it’s politics – from 9/11 to Guantanamo, Iraq to Iran. This clash is not inevitable, and we don’t want it.” An important part of the video is the music, a mashup put together by trip-hop artist DJ Spooky. He combined “Western” electronica and Arabic-sounding instrumentals with political soundbites to provide a backdrop for the activist message Avaaz’s video presents.

Avaaz isn’t the first to use music to seek to heal or disprove the “clash of civilizations.” In 2003, Norwegian music producer Erik Hillestad released the album Lullabies from the Axis of Evil. The title alone made me immediately check out a copy from the library. Hillestad’s goal in making the CD was to learn more about the people within the countries deemed enemies of the United States. As he told the Washington Post, “I chose to use lullabies because they are the most opposite kind of rhetoric to the words of power that Mr. Bush and his colleagues use.” Hillestad’s point resonates. It’s impossible to listen to the solemn, gentle lullabies and think of “evil.”

The album goes beyond Bush’s specified “Axis of Evil” nations and includes music from Palestine, Iraq, Iran, Syria, Afghanistan, Cuba, and North Korea. The a cappella lullabies were recorded alone and later remixed with instrumentals and combined with vocals by a non-“Axis” singer singing the same lyrics in English. This approach has been criticized by some Amazon reviewers for making the songs not “ethnic” enough, but I’d disagree — the English translation of the lyrics is essential. It makes the music more accessible to the Western listener and literally speaks for the singers whose native-language message would otherwise be lost. The accessibility makes the project more powerful. One of my favorite tracks is “Peace Song,” sung by Halla Bassam of Iraq and Sevara Nazarkhan of Uzbekistan. Nazarkhan sings the English words: “Peace to the world / Peace to my country, my love / Peace to your dreams / Peace to your children / Underneath the whispering trees / Where our sons and daughters are free.”

In collecting the lullabies, Hillestad specifically sought out female voices. He explained that this was not to subscribe to the stereotype that only women sing lullabies, but because “the male voices are far too dominant in the world today, speaking the words of power and warfare.”

Hillestad is not the only one to choose women as the carrier of his message. The video by Avaaz uses black-ink pictures of two women: one with a ponytail, to symbolize the United States, and the other in a chador, to symbolize the Muslim Middle East (shown right). Although I’m glad that women aren’t pushed to the sidelines, I’m not sure how to take this. Does it mean that women symbolize peace and cultural healing or that women should be a part of politics today?

Not all musical attempts are saturated with politics. Azam Ali is an Iranian-born, Indian-raised musician who moved to the United States in 1985. Ali is a key member of the group Niyaz (pictured below), which combines the traditional music of the Middle East and Southwest Asia with modern electronica. The group has been classified as an “East Meets West project,” but Ali does not see it that way. In an interview she said, “That is purely the marketing department’s doing. From a musician’s standpoint I can honestly say that it is very natural to blend music from different cultures because you are dealing with an element that transcends all specifications.” Niyaz has been noted for the Islamic, specifically Sufi, influence in its music. Lyrics are borrowed from figures such as the poet Rumi, as well as folk songs from Afghanistan, Pakistan, and Iran. Blogger Ali Eteraz praised the group for showing a beautiful, life-affirming Islam. Eteraz writes, “In Niyaz, the serenity of Islamic mysticism exists even if the words were to disappear and only the voice were to remain.”

In her first solo album, Portals of Grace (2002), Ali looks to medieval Europe. The range of songs includes Latin chants from the 12th century, Judeo-Spanish songs, and Arabic melodies from the Byzantine era. In the CD liner notes, Ali explains that she hopes to explore “the correlation between the music of medieval Europe and the music of the Arab world.” Listening to the vocal pieces, it’s easy to hear the common elements in traditional European music and traditional Arabic music and realize the two are not worlds apart. Ali includes music associated with the three major Abrahamic traditions. Although not explicitly of any specific religion, the album has a distinctly spiritual feel. Ali says, “For me, singing and prayer are one and the same.” Throughout the pieces there is a meditative feeling of solemnity. Ali sees her interaction with music as an “ongoing dialogue and a longing in our quest for the divine.”

What all of these musical efforts do is make the (presumably Western) listener see the other “clashing civilization” — in this case, the Middle East — not as a faceless force of evil but as just as real and human as the listener him or herself. In the words of the Avaaz video, “Are we that different?” Obviously, the United States’ relationship with the Middle East is fraught with issues more complicated than music can solve. But music speaks not to governments but to everyday people. Pointing out similarities is the first step to wiping away the image of irreconcilable differences.

Note: Ten percent of the profits of Lullabies from the Axis of Evil will go to the organization Worldview Rights; a portion of the profits of Portals of Grace will go to women’s rights organization RAWA (Revolutionary Association of the Women of Afghanistan).