Last week, I critiqued the first of two articles on modesty written by Anam Majeed. Today I’ll look at the second piece – Islam, Modesty, and Sex in the West – Part II.

This time, Majeed begins with a GQ interview with fashion designer Miuccia Prada in which she critiques the show Sex and the City. Prada states that SATC is not a show women should be emulating, as it leads to unhappiness. She feels that women today try too hard. They dress too sexy. When they are unhappy, they wear fewer clothes. According to Prada, women have less dignity today than do men.

With women, the more unhappy they are, the more undressed they are. This is true. Dignity’s another very important part of this. Sex and the City is the opposite of dignity. You have to have dignity for your body-this is with men and women. You need to have dignity towards how you are, how you dress, how you behave. Very important. Men are always much more dignified than most women.

Although Prada does make some interesting points, this last line made me upset. Why would Majeed choose to use a quote, which depicts women as inferior? This statement doesn't even strike me as remotely true. But this is my analysis of part of Prada's quote. Majeed begins her analysis by assuming that Prada equates more clothing with dignity. In fact, according to Majeed, Prada is saying that "more clothes means more dignity." This is not what Prada said. She did speak about the importance of dignity and she did say that clothing is one way to express dignity, but not that more clothing equaled more dignity. This seemed to be the way Majeed wanted to interpret Prada's words. If this were the case, then this would mean that those women who are covered from head to toe are more dignified than those who wear jeans and a sweater, who in turn are more dignified than those women who wear short skirts and t-shirts. Majeed then writes

...she speaks not only of apparel, but also of how this ties into one’s behaviour and resulting inner happiness. How delightfully Islamic of her, but I still wouldn’t wait with bated breath for the release of Prada branded burquas...

Prada did not say that clothing ties in with behaviour and inner happiness, but rather dignity. Yes, this is in Islam, but it is also in Western thought. Dignity is a virtue in the West as well. Then why the cringe-inducing burqa comment? Why is that the Islamic clothing that came to mind? I suppose that, according to Majeed, the burqa would be the most dignified of apparel.

Majeed does accurately point out that Prada seems to be praising modesty. And this is something to appreciate, especially for many Muslim women who do value modest dress. But again, the same question as last week comes up. What is modesty? What does Majeed mean when she says modest? Last week I concluded, from various statements, that by modesty Majeed was referring to hijab and/or niqaab. Add burqa to that this week. This conclusion was further confirmed in this piece.

However, to continue, Majeed points out that many in the West may be against modesty (an extreme assertion, as I stated last week) because of modesty's negative connotations in Judeo-Christian tradition. This, in an attempt to show that Islamic modesty and feminism are not at odds. Good idea, because too many people, Muslims and non-Muslims, believe that Islam and feminism are incompatible. But to present Islamic modesty as a "solution to the ills facing women today" might be simplifying the "ills facing women today." I doubt modesty would solve the problem of violence against women.

Majeed feels that today, when feminists fight the patriarchy of the Judeo-Christian traditions, they confuse Islam to be of a similar nature. Therefore, she feels that feminists need not fight Islamic patriarchy as that patriarchy does not exist. Majeed's main argument appears to be that Islam treats women very well, it is not patriarchal, and thus requiring women to dress modestly should not have such negative connotations as it has within the Judeo-Christian traditions, which have been patriarchal. However, many may disagree. Although many Muslims do believe that Islam, as it was meant to be followed, does promote equality and egalitarianism, they find today that Islam is used to justify subjugation of women and thus a very patriarchal system. Majeed did recognize this, but blamed culture for such oppressions. (Though she does state at one point that the "particular patriarchal system that the feminist movement sought to overthrow does not quite exist in the Islamic world." What?! Yes it does!)

Such blame ignores the fact that religion, and religion alone, is often used and abused as the justification for various oppressions of women (ie. the Hudood Ordinance of Pakistan, which resulted in the horrendous treatment of so many women). Majeed paints an overly idealistic picture.

Specifically, Majeed gives the example of gender roles, first stating that "[t]here are spheres within Islam which men and women may dominate unequally, but always to a net equity, to a balanced social harmony" but then says that "[m]ales and females can coexist and thrive in their overlapping spheres without the encumbrance of a traditionally Western categorization of gender roles. These narrow interpretations that the feminist movement fought to eradicate have no source in Islam." First, she seems to be saying that there are gender roles in Islam (equal but different) but then states narrow gender roles do not exist in Islam. Perhaps she needs to clarify her first statement. What does she mean?

To demonstrate the compatibility of Islamic modesty with feminism, Majeed speaks of the hijab, the "primary value" of which "is not in opposition, but as it stands as an article of faith in obedience to the modesty enjoined upon believing women by God." Or so certain interpretations state. This statement confirms that Majeed is thinking of hijab, at least, when thinking of modesty. No hijab means no modesty. How else would one explain this statement:

It is only now, in our present times, when the idea of modesty has sadly become intertwined with abuse, oppression, and the subjugation of women..

This statement only makes sense if one is thinking of the hijab, niqab, or burqa. These items have indeed been given such negative connotations. Not modesty itself.

Once again, Majeed's very narrow definition of modesty weakened her argument. She tried to reconcile feminism with Islam, something more of us need to do to eliminate misconceptions. She also accurately portrays the acceptability of sex and sexuality in Islam within marriage. Yet, her overall argument was not convincing. If only Majeed had been clear and stated that it was not modesty in general she was speaking of, but rather a very specific form of it.

Recently, Anam Majeed wrote a two-part piece for the The Western Muslim on the concept of modesty in the West, with the first of the two entitled Islam, Modesty and Sex in the West. The piece made some valid points, as well as some questionable ones. Overall, Majeed states that modesty is loathed in the West and thus the the hyper-focus on the sexuality of women has made sexuality uninteresting and asexual. If modesty was still held in high regard, sexuality would still be of interest to people. Modesty appears to be defined in one way. But this is the overall gist. Let's get to some of the details.

The piece starts by presenting an 80-year-old quote on modesty and women by D.H. Lawrence from A Propos of Lady Chatterley’s Lover. In the excerpt, D.H. Lawrence (a man) appears to be warning against women showing too much flesh and encourages maintaining modesty. Fair enough. However, having a man telling women how to dress and behave makes myself, and many women, defensive. Additionally, 80 years prior was a long time ago and a very different time. The quote exposes the views of the time by making the woman into a sexual creature whose power resides in her sex and who men desire. This belief seems dated in a Western context, as the feminist movement has brought focus onto the woman as a whole since then, not just her sexuality. A more recent quote would have much better suited the piece.

As I read the article, I began to wonder how Majeed was going to define modesty. What is she picturing when she pictures modesty? The remaining article made it fairly clear that Majeed had one particular version of modesty in mind, which can be problematic regardless of how valid the claims may be.

Majeed makes the extremely exaggerated claim that modesty is "public enemy number one" in the West. This statement may help her 'sell' her article but it creates an unnecessary and simplified dichotomy between the West and modesty, pitting one against the other. This statement implies that modesty is not tolerated in the West. For anyone living in the West, we know this is not the case. Even if modesty is how she defines it. When mocking the West's view of modesty she assumes that modesty is "Little-House-On-the-Prairie chic" or a "too-long skirt" providing insight into her mental images of modest dress.

No doubt, there is a pressure on women to dress stylishly and often that style includes clothing which many Muslim women may not find modest, but the way Majeed presents modesty one would assume non-Muslims of the West loathe and fear modesty. According to Majeed in the West modesty is repressive, controlling of female sexuality, oppressive, and subjugating. Again, a a tall tale, if you ask me. However, if Majeed is thinking of the hijab and/or niqab only when thinking of modesty then such claims make more sense. The hijab and niqab have traditionally been seen in such negative ways, but not modesty itself. When was the last time a knee-length skirt was considered oppressive or subjugating? Majeed appears to be making the assumption that only the hijab and niqab equal modesty. Therefore, throughout my reading of the article I could only assume that the hijab and/or niqab were being referred to when speaking of modesty.

Majeed admonishes the culture in which women feel a pressure to look a certain way. Very valid derision. However, Majeed then continues to deride the stereotype that modesty is not sexy and claims that indeed modesty can be sexy. At this point I began to get confused. Can modesty be sexy? Does sexy not contradict modest? Isn't the point of modesty not attracting attention to oneself while the point of sexy is to attract attention to oneself? Especially since the modesty she refers to is that of the hijab and/or niqab. Should those even be sexy? Would that not defeat the purpose?

While speaking of the pressures women face to look a certain way, Majeed states that we are told by the media that we are ugly unless we do as the marketers say. Women are made to hate our bodies as we are told our bodies are ugly. The way we then feel better about our bodies is by buying the products we are told will beautify us and by seeking male approval (obviously this relates to heterosexual women only). All very good points. Indeed the marketing world does prey on our insecurities about our bodies. However, I'm not clear how modesty is the panacea. The marketing world would still be trying to sell us something by preying on our insecurities about one thing or another (skin colour for instance).

By pointing out the verse in the Qur'an which speaks about modesty, Majeed makes clear that in Islam, all women are considered beautiful. Unlike the common message we receive from the marketers, Islam teaches us that our bodies are beautiful. Again, a great point. Indeed the philosophy that all women are beautiful is one with which many women will agree happily. My confusion occurs again when Majeed then states that women's bodies are not "to be hidden away because of some inherent loathsomeness." On the one hand she is praising and supporting modesty, but on the other she appears to be saying that we do not need to cover our bodies. Does she mean that women's bodies should not be covered? Or that they should be covered but not because we hate our bodies, but because we are told to by the Qur'an?

Finally, Majeed appears to further propagate the belief that women are inherently sexual creatures. We see this in the following quote:

And so, the truly empowering force of modesty can be seen in the woman who fully accepts her desirability, her femininity, her ability to attract a male, her feeling that her sex is too powerful to remain unguarded. This is an innate sense of the female’s power; it is a subconsciously realized truth, one that is so deeply connected with the female psyche that it cannot be labeled as conceit.

So a woman's power thus is her sexuality. What happened to her mind? To her skill? No doubt sexuality is a powerful force, but in both men and women. To state that a woman's power is in her sexuality denies the other ways in which women can hold power.

Majeed is buying into Al-Ghazali's Theory of Sexuality which states that a woman in inherently a fitna (chaos) causing creature whose sexuality is so powerful she must be controlled and kept away from society.

"Thus, the Islamic notion of hayat, or shyness, is like a veil placed upon women to protect them from the power that is their sex."

Al-Ghazali wanted to protect men from women; Majeed wants to protect women from themselves.

Majeed then presents a quote which states that a woman who is not dressed modestly is one who is for "public use." Again, whose definition of modesty do we use when judging which woman is for public use and which is for private use? To imply that a woman is for use at all, whether private or public, is highly offensive. Majeed again should have been careful with which quotes she used.

Majeed ends the piece by again re-iterating that modesty, because it projects self-confidence, is indeed sexy. Fair enough. Perhaps modesty can be sexy. But is it the modesty or the self-confidence? A woman who is not "modest" can also be very self-confident. Again, who decides which woman is modest, and which woman is not?

Overall, Majeed did makes some vaild points. Her criticisms of the marketing world and the pressures on women to look a particular way were accurate and would resonate with many, if not most, women. However, as she never did define modesty, but only gave a few hints as to what her definition was, I was only able to assume what she meant by modesty and the assumption did not serve her argument well. By appearing to define modesty in rigid terms, her arguments only pertained to certain group of women. It also isolated a large group of women who also dress modestly but not as imagined by Majeed. Perhaps a rewriting of the piece with more forms of modesty in mind would help her present her argument more appropriately

Part two for next week.

Earlier this month Mississauga, Ontario hosted the 6th annual Miss Pakistan World Pageant. I wasn't there; however, this will not hinder me from critiquing the concept. Creator Sonia Ahmed (pictured here on the far right) started the pageant to "create a pool of talented Pakistanis all around the world." She felt that "Pakistani girls had a lot of talent, some could dance, some could sing, most of them wanted to become models, but all this was not possible since there was no platform for them to be showcased and hence, Miss Pakistan World was put together with the support of these young women.” She has expressed that the pageant is for "modern Pakistani women." Additionally, she referred to the latest pageant as "a new chapter in Pakistani liberation."

A pageant liberating women? A pageant, which reduces women to the sum of their body parts, and not much else, is supposed to liberate the women of Pakistan? I guess education, equality in pay, equal treatment by the law are not the way to go for liberation. But rather having your body judged while walking across a stage in a bikini will liberate the women of Pakistan.

We all know how Western media often depicts Muslim women as weak and helpless. Ahmed, a Pakistani herself, repeats this sentiment when she says:

Pakistani women have always felt compelled to stay in the background. They have never had the same opportunities to create a voice and stand for what they believe in. It was only after living in Canada that I realized that women really do have the power to make a difference and make a change. You see it every day here (in Canada) and I hope that the women of Pakistan begin to see that as part of their reality soon.

This quote is irritating on a number of levels. The assumptions being made here are insulting to the women of Pakistan. The assumption is that the women of Pakistan have not tried to help themselves and have submissively accepted their ill-treatment. The assumption is also that her beauty pageant will save these women. Now, it has been offensive enough when traditionally many feminists have tried to implement their theories of freedom and liberation on women of the East. However, to say that a pageant, an objectifying and sexualizing event, will encourage the women of Pakistan to begin to better their lives, demeans the intelligence of Pakistani women. It also demeans the work of all these amazing Pakistani women who have been working for the betterment and success of Pakistan and Pakistani women for decades.

The pageant has faced criticism in Pakistan just for existing because it is said to encourage shameless behaviour. To me, it is not the revealing of body parts itself which is irritating. It is the judgment and worth based on those revealed body parts. But then insult is added to injury when a superficial and objectifying event is amplified to such an arrogant level so as to appear to "save" women; women who have already been hard at work for ages helping themselves.

It seems Ms. Ahmed and her pageant need to step off their self-positioned pedestal and recognize the reality of beauty pageants which reduce women to objects. And they need to stop insulting the women of Pakistan by assuming that their work has been the breakthrough Pakistani women have been needing for so long.

Reading through this report entitled Meet Your Average British Muslim Woman... from Asian Image on the preferences of the average Muslim woman in the UK reveals some interesting points about the ways in which Muslim women are viewed within the South Asian community. The reporter appeared "surprised" by some things and found other things "interesting" revealing that Muslim women in the UK are not well known.

For instance, the reporter found that "[o]ne of the most surprising findings was that British Muslim women, married and unmarried are still romantics at heart." Why is this surprising? Can Muslim women not be romantics? Is there something about the Muslim women in the UK that demonstrates that they cannot be romantics? Or are they falling for the harmful stereotype that Muslim women will unknowingly marry whomever is chosen for them only to fulfill their "religiously mandated" wifely duties? Can Muslim women not marry for love?

Of interest the reporter found that "while character and Islamic knowledge come top of the Muslim woman's wish list, racial background is ranked as one of the least important aspects." Does this mean that racial background is thought to be important to Muslim South Asian women? Granted, there is still much value placed on skin colour in the South Asian community, but that would not count as an emphasis on racial background. Could this imply racial tensions in the community?

Additionally, the reporter hints at negative views of Muslim men as well saying that "...contrary to some opinions only one per cent thought Muslim men were under-achievers." Do the Muslim men of the UK have such a reputation? Or is that the assumption is that Muslim women believe that Muslim men are under-achievers?

Although this report answers many questions about Muslim women in the UK, mainly those within the South Asian community, it leaves us with many more questions about the assumptions and stereotypes of these women in the UK.

Yesterday’s issue of the New York Times featured a look at romance among the youth of Saudi Arabia. It’s not the first time the Times has addressed this topic. The Western media has an intense fascination when it comes to Saudi Arabia and romance, if Valentine’s Day coverage is any clue.

Yesterday’s coverage includes separate articles for the female and male perspectives, along with a slideshow of “youth in the kingdom” — all of whom are men. Good job making women invisible. Isn’t that supposed to be the Saudis’ job, media? I guess it doesn’t just take an abaya after all. We’ll focus on the article about women, “Love on Girls’ Side of the Saudi Divide.”

The problems start as early as the photo. Accompanying the article is a picture of “Shaden.” Her face covered in black cloth, she sits between her younger sister (whose face and head are bare, as though to contrast with her sister), and her father. Shaden is gesturing with her hands, and her sister looks solemn. Good way to make the father look like a bad guy right off the bat. The caption only identifies Shaden as “veiled at 17.” Interesting wording. First, “veiled” is imprecise. Not all women who “veil” cover all of, or even any of, their faces. (The only photo including a women’s face shows Sara al-Tukhaifi — looking depressed, of course. Unlike the slideshow of laughing men, there are no photos of happy women.)

Second, the photo makes it obvious what Shaden is wearing. What does the caption add by emphasizing her clothing? Well, the passive voice makes it sound like “veiling” was something done to Shaden, and the placement of “at 17” — instead of, say, “Shaden, 17, spoke with her father” — hints at the classic Orientalist tragedy. Veiled at 17, married off at 18 — you know the rest. (I don’t want to deny the reality of this experience, because it does happen. But as far as this article is concerned, it’s not Shaden’s story, so it’s not relevant.)


The Times has a tendency towards Orientalist portrayals of Saudi Arabia. The women interviewed are introduced as

swaying and gyrating, without the slightest self-consciousness, among overstuffed sofas, heavy draperies, tables larded with figurines and ornately-covered tissue boxes… their head-to-toe abayas, balled up and tossed onto chairs, … like black cloth puddles.

Really, do the sofas, drapes, and “ornately-covered” tissue boxes have anything to do with the lives of teenage Saudi girls? I think not. Instead, they help to set the “exotic” scene — women liberated from their “black puddles” become gyrating dancers. Come on; you don’t even need to have heard of Edward Said to call this Orientalism.

You see, in the mysterious desert kingdom — articles rarely forget to emphasize the sand, the wind, the backwards glamour of it all! — women aren’t quite the same as women here in the United States. It’s not that the government limits their rights and society is more conservative. That’s clear, of course. It’s that the women themselves are of a different sort — or so the article implies.

Women are characterized as children. They “falter,” “sway slightly on high heels,” “totter,” and “nod earnestly, dark ringlets bouncing” (Shirley Temple, anyone?). Oh, and the standard female stereotypes, of course: they “giggle,” “shriek” and “burst into tears.” You’d think the possibility of talking to a man drives every single Saudi women to nervous collapse.

This image of women is reminiscent of Jane Austen, and indeed, the article ends on that note: Shaden sighs deeply, and references the Pride and Prejudice film: “When Darcy comes to Elizabeth and says ‘I love you’ — that’s exactly the kind of love I want,” she says.

Nineteenth-century British romance is presented as an impossible ideal, the kind of thing Saudi women can only long for. The NYT tells us that for Saudi women, progress is what we in the United States consider history. It’s an affirmation of the superiority of the English-speaking world. The journalist leaves out the fact that it’s not just Saudi women who sigh over Mr. Darcy. American author Shannon Hale wrote an entire novel about the Mr. Darcy complex in modern-day American women (and she wasn’t the only one to do so). But the message comes across differently when it’s a Saudi women, her restrictions already explained, sighing over a romance from foreign cinema.

The nature of same-sex relationships also undergoes a transformation when Saudi women are involved. Journalist Katherine Zoepf references a “supposed increase in same-sex love affairs among young people frustrated at the strict division between the genders.” As though gender division is a good enough reason to explain all same-sex “love affairs.” But, wait, that’s not the only cause:

Ms. Tukhaifi and Shaden know of girls in their college who have passionate friendships, possibly even love affairs, with other girls but they say that this, like the cross-dressing, is just a “game” born of frustration, something that will inevitably end when the girls in question become engaged.

Maybe I’m missing something, but it seems a bit off that “frustration” would lead to “passionate” friendships. Eventual engagements may end same-sex relationships, but that doesn’t mean the women were only playacting. Never in the article is there any acknowledge that homosexuality can and does exist even in conservative parts of the world. This does an excellent job enforcing the (false) idea that not only is homosexuality a choice, but it’s specifically a product of Western liberal society. We know that Saudi society does not accept homosexuality. Therefore, Saudi women can’t actually be gay — they’re only straight women playing “games” because they’re bored. It’s unfortunate that Zoepf relies only on hearsay to discuss this topic. The phrase “love affair” further belittles same-sex relationships.

Zoepf does a decent job not presenting Islam as a strict monolith. She notes distinctions between culture and religion and describes Saudi Islam as but one interpretation of Islam. Nevertheless, some ultraconservative interpretations are thrown in as undisputed facts. Zoepf quotes Tukhaifi as saying “Islam forbids a stranger to hear your voice,” and she never explains further. This rule is certainly not a universally held fact of Islam. And it leaves the reader wondering — how does a woman ask for something in a shop? How does she communicate with her teachers? How are these women talking to Zoepf, a journalist? The clarification “male” would have helped, but it still raises questions that are never answered in the story. At another point, music is referenced as haram, but this is not explained either, even though the introduction describes the women dancing to music.

Another issue with the story is the lack of class diversity. The women interviewed appear to be at least upper middle class. They all have leisure time and access to new technology; money does not seem to be a concern. Contrary to stereotypes, this isn’t the situation for all Saudis. It would have been interesting to hear about the lives of lower-class Saudi women, who cannot be as easily “spirited around the city,” and how their pursuit of romance differs from that of wealthier Saudi women.

According to the sidebar with the subhead “Through a Veil, Lightly,” this article is the fourth installment of the series “Generation Faithful,” composed of “articles examining the lives of youth across the Muslim world at a time of religious revival.” While the article addresses the issues institutionalized religion create, it never explores the personal faith of the women interviewed. Close enough, I guess?

One reader commented on the story, “It’s humanizing and relieving to understand that, despite the severity of their oppression, these women still have joy and desires.” Really. Is this what journalism aims for? Showing that Saudi women are still human beings, still have “joys and desires”? Alas. That was obvious, I thought. Do people really think Saudi women are robots under their abayas and face covers? Oh my. We still have a long way to go.

Photo from the New York Times.

The Birmingham Posts’ Roshan Doug recently blogged about a frustrating experience he had at a retail outlet. Many of us could relate as many of us have been in similar situations. Therefore, I understood much of his frustration throughout the post until......

The clerk he was dealing with was a Muslim woman in a hijab. He mentions this early in the piece. I did wonder why he had mentioned this until I read in his explanatory blog entry which followed this one (which he had to write due to the response to this post) that he mentioned it to set the scene. Makes sense, except that what he was setting the scene for was very problematic. After much frustration in dealing with this clerk, he explains:

I'm also not too impressed with the fact that she throws the card on the desk and not hand it to me - it's a cultural thing apparently. Some Muslim women - like her - avoid all - even the faintest - contact with men.

Now this is quite the assumption to make. There has been nothing in the post indicating her level of conservatism, or what she adheres to religiously. He based this assumption simply on her wearing of a head scarf. It is her status as a hijabi he refers to when he says “like her.” Anyone who knows anything about Muslim women will know that such generalizations are absolutely inaccurate. After all, Doug himself is an ethnic minority and should understand the rudeness of having one generalized with one’s group. But he seems to forget how inaccurate and harmful such generalizations can be when dealing with a woman who wears hijab. Especially since she is more likely to have thrown the card because she was rude, not because she did not want to have contact with him. The no-contact-with-men-whatsoever is not as common a belief as he would have us believe.

He then continues to say:

Why they then take jobs that require dealing with the public on a face to face basis, I have no idea.

Again, he is making this assumption based simply on her hijab. This generalization appears even more inaccurate and foolish since objections to face-to-face association are rare among women who wear hijab. Analyzed further, this statement appears to be based on the underlying belief that women who wear the hijab would prefer to remain within the walls of their home away from society. That they would prefer to not be a part of public life. That they would prefer to remain secluded. Wow! Waaaay too many rude and insulting assumptions being made about hijab-clad Muslim women.

Doug has written a response to this post based on the many complaints against him. And in his response he comes across as an intelligent man. This makes it even more depressing that he would make the assumptions he did. Especially, since he does not explain why he made those assumptions or what they were based on. Was there something we missed? Apparently not. Now whether no complainant brought up this issue or whether he just ignored it if it was brought up, I am not sure, but for some reason he still does believe that the reason she threw the card was because of her interpretation of Islam. I am still at a loss as to how he came to that conclusion and with so much conviction. However, it is very clear that he just does not get it.

There’s a trend in the Americas. Latina* women are getting tired of Catholicism. They’re sick of being called “mamacita” in the streets. They don’t want to deal anymore with the chauvinistic pigs otherwise known as Latino men. So they’re throwing away their tank tops and their statues of the Virgin Mary and pulling on the hijab and ‘abaya instead.

Or so the media would have you believe. I’ve seen a stream of articles about Latina women converting to Islam, and they overwhelmingly rely on stereotyped images of Latino cultures as well as Muslims. The topic has been covered by MSNBC, NPR, the Christian Science Monitor, the Houston Chronicle, and more.

Here’s the standard lead:

Latina woman is walking down the street. It’s a hot day, and she’s dressed in a full-length skirt (dress, coat, etc.) and a hijab. She passes some Latino men. They look towards her and don’t scream at her. She sighs thankfully and reflects on the days of the past, of catcalls and shouts of “Hey, mami” as she walked by in her skimpy outfit.

The article then explains that in Latino culture, men are macho jerks and women are sex objects. In Islam, they are covered up and immediately respected. The author retells the woman’s decision to leave Catholicism for Islam, her experience putting on hijab, and the sad reactions of her family. If the journalist tries to dig a little deeper, there may be some theological reasons for choosing Islam, but they’re usually an afterthought. Some articles will note that Latina women like the strict gender roles of Islam because that’s what they’re used to.

Of course, not every article follows this mold precisely, but none stray from it completely. They paint monolithic pictures of both Latinos/Latinas and Muslims. It’s especially unfortunate in a time when both groups are often vilified and misunderstood in the United States.

From reading any one of the articles on this topic, someone without much knowledge about either group could easily assume that it’s impossible to be a Latina woman without rocking the halter top and being objectified by the men in your community, or that it’s impossible to be a Muslim woman without knowing your place — which is, of course, to subordinate yourself to your husband and be respected for covering your body and hair. You’d think sexism and patriarchy are non-issues for other races and religions. Articles on converts of other ethnicities rarely spend this much time on the sexual harassment they received pre-Islam — if at all. I mean, I know machismo is a Spanish word, but come on — patriarchy isn’t limited to Spanish-speakers. Consider this quote:

"The way Latin men portray women, it's terrible," Avelar said. "You look at Spanish CDs, and you see women in bikinis on the cover." (Washington Post)

Yes, Spanish-language media frequently sexualize women. But since when do American media not? I don’t know what part of the U.S. you’re living in if you’re never seen women’s bodies used to sell products. The bikini-clad woman in the wine glass… the bikini-clad women reclining on sports cars… I could go on. But that issue rarely seems to be an issue brought in white convert stories.

But for Latina women, it seems to be the biggest issue. It’s as though Latino cultures have the monopoly on men who make crude comments in public, and Latina feminism doesn’t exist. It’s also as though only Muslims are allowed to dress conservatively. Most articles paint Latinas as perpetually clad in tank tops, shorts, and mini skirts, unless they become Muslim — at which point they always, always wear hijab... unless they choose niqab instead. Come on, the world is not the dichotomy it’s portrayed to be:

On a hot summer day, Stefani Perada left work for the day in West New York, N.J., and stepped outside in her long jilbab, the flowing clothes worn by many Muslim women. Meanwhile, other Latinas in the mostly Hispanic neighborhood were taking advantage of the warm day, walking around in shorts and midriff-exposing halter tops. (MSNBC)

It’s easy to make everything so simple. Latinos disrespect their women; Muslims respect them. Latinas show off everything; Muslim women cover up completely. This simplification seems to be hard to avoid when discussing Latina converts. Another article wrote,

While some Latinas her age try to emulate the tight clothes and wiggling hips of stars like Jennifer Lopez and Christina Aguilera, Ms. Pinet and others are adopting a more conservative lifestyle and converting to Islam. (Christian Science Monitor)

It should be obvious that not all Latina women want to be sex kittens, and the world isn’t so black and white. Let’s not forget that emulating the “tight clothes, wiggling hips” look happens in white America too.

It’s frustrating that the Islam the women profiled turn to is consistently the same. They put on clothes with Arabic names, attend Qur’anic study groups at the mosque, and marry men they meet there. (By the way, there’s never any mention of Muslim men who sexualize women, because that’s apparently the domain of non-Muslim Latinos.) There’s nothing wrong with doing these things, but you’d think there’s no room for Muslim women to do anything else. These articles never mention Latina Muslim activists, or writers, or anything, really, but the archetypal domestic woman who fulfills both the Latina stereotype pre-conversion and the Muslim stereotype post-conversion.

And that brings up another assumption. There’s the idea that all Latinos are Catholic — or even religious. Although Catholicism is clearly the dominant faith of Latin America, there do exist Latinas who follow Protestantism, indigenous religions, or, in smaller numbers, other religions — including Islam. And to be Muslim and Latino is not always to convert to Islam. I think I may have once seen an article somewhere — nowhere to be found again — about a Latin American woman who grew up in a Muslim family, but that was the exception. Let’s not forget that Islam isn’t new to the Americas; slavery brought it here centuries ago. And neither should we forget that non-religious Latino families also exist.Unfortunately, the majority of coverage of Latina Muslims works from a framework that sees both Latin American cultures and Islam as strange and different. I guess the only way to explain how the two could meet is to fall back to the tired stereotypes and extreme dichotomies.

*The term “Latino” or “Latina” includes the Portuguese-speaking country of Brazil, but I’ve seen almost no coverage of Brazilian Muslims, except for this article, explaining why Brazilians aren’t Muslim.

For more information on Latino/a Muslims, see LADO or HispanicMuslims.com.

Photo credit: MSNBC

Social experiments can be so much fun. And apparently journalists seem to agree. A few months ago we reported on one such experiment by Danielle Crittenden. She donned the abaya and niqab to live a day in the life of a niqabi Muslim woman. Well, we've come across another similar experiment, this time in Sudbury, Ontario.

In a Sudbury Star article, Lara Bradley engages in a similar experiment in the small Canadian city. She dons the niqab and abaya and wanders around the city for a day. In the article she reports on her experiences throughout the day as she visits a food court, rides a bus, and walks down the street, among other places. She tells the readers about the odd stares, the awkwardness, the uneasy glances, as well as the attempts at extreme politeness.

Bradley approaches this experiment in more respectful manner than Crittenden. She first consults with people in the Sudbury Muslim community. In the process she describes the Muslim community of Sudbury, in turn normalizing them. Though, as all other articles on Muslims, she paints Muslims as a monolithic group. From her conversation with a member of the Sudbury Muslim community she writes:

In Islam, men and women are equal; they just have different roles to play - men the breadwinner and women the nurturers of the children, he said.

This is the common interpretation in Christianity, Judaism, Sikhism, Hinduism etc. Not just Islam. Yet the diversity which exists among these other religious groups is often ignored when it comes to Muslims. Muslims are just as diverse in their belief of and adherence to this concept. By stating this 'piece of information' from a Muslim source Bradley forwards the interpretation of Islam, which further instills patriarchy. However, this may be a digression from the main topic - niqabi for a day.

Overall, Bradley's experience is as one would expect - in a Canadian context. She does not receive very much outright negative feedback. A few glares and head shakes. For the most part she explains how people feel uncomfortable around her.

Although experiments like these provide a brief glimpse into another's life, they can be quite telling. Bradley does indicate her lack of inner change. In other words, she does not actually become Muslim to conduct this experiment, therefore she is not able to provide a thorough explanation of the experiences of a woman who wears niqab. After all she knew she would be able to take it off at the end of the day. Additionally she also had to deal with the novelty of wearing the niqab and abaya and all the feelings entailed in that. Judgments about the niqab and abaya are made throughout the article, but they come from her non-Muslim, pseudo-niqabi status and this appears clear to the reader. To present a somewhat more accurate picture of 'a day in the life of' it would be more useful to recruit an actual woman who wears niqab.

The story Bradley presents is obviously not comprehensive. It is not a psychology paper nor journal article, which would require greater depth, explanation, and rigour. However, for a newspaper article, Bradley does seem to be trying to present a fair picture. By speaking to various Muslims in the community - a hijabi, a non-hijabi, and a man - she tries to present the life of a woman who wears niqab within the context of different viewpoints. By presenting a few different views, it appears that Bradley is trying to create a space for the reader to decide for themselves how they feel about the niqab and not necessarily telling us exactly how to feel.

Ammar from Little Mosque on the Prairie said "Muslims around the world are known for their sense of humour." Unfortunately the sarcasm of this comment escapes no one because, in fact, Muslims are not known for their sense of humour. Quite the opposite.

I recently came across what I thought of as a beautiful poem, entitled I Am Woman - Celebrate Me, written by Canadian Muslim feminist and activist, Raheel Raza. Addressing issues of sexism, racism, and misogyny among others, this poem was written by Raza and presented to WOMANVOICE, on Dec 6, 2004 to celebrate the International Day of Action for Violence Against Women and to commemorate the 14 women killed at Ecole Polytechnic in Montreal, Quebec, Canada, (aka The Montreal Massacre). Although a few years old I felt this deserved some attention.

Racism, imperialism, violence, sexism, misogyny, patriacrhy:

All our hearts ached for the victims of the devastating tsunami a few of years ago. One of the worst natural disasters in recent history. Many people asked why such a horrible thing would happen. How could so many innocent lives be taken like that? Who knows why things like this happen. Who knows God's plan. Who knows why God planned that.

Well, it seems some people in Indonesia do know why it happened and have found the culprits. Yay! Actual people to blame. But guess whose fault it is? Well, no, not the West. Not directly at least, though one could argue there may be an indirect connection. Anyhow, guess again. That's right! WOMEN!

Why is that not a surprise to me? According to my friend, and journalist, Natasha Fatah, the right-wing conservatives of Banda Aceh have been blaming the women of the town for the calamity. In her article, Religion and natural disasters shouldn't mix, Fatah tells us how, following the tsunami, the local sharia-pushing conservatives found the perfect opportunity among the terror-ridden residents to spread their version of events. According to them it was the immorality of the women that caused God to punish them. To protect from further disasters they forced many restrictions on the woman. These self appointed morality police banned night time concerts so women would not be out at night and movie theatres were closed so that men and women would not be in the same dark space.

What was their proof? That's right. They had proof. The naked dead bodies of women from the disaster. When the force of the water hit these women, for many it ripped the clothes (sarongs and nightgowns) off their bodies. However, these guardians of Islam provided an alternate explanation saying that they were naked because of their immorality and this was God's way of punishing them, as well as everyone else for allowing them to be immoral.

Now this is getting to be an extremely old story. Whenever so-called Islamic law is implemented the first victims are always women. Always. They are the prey for the perverted, testosterone-thirsty (because real men, who follow the example of the Prophet (pbuh), would never behave this way), estrogen-hating 'mullahs.' Women are less powerful than men. They are easy targets. Easy to push around and bully. Their bodies are vessels for a very weak, fragile, and restless morality which, if not carefully watched, will find the first opportunity to escape into the real world to cause chaos, or fitna (disorder or chaos), among society. Therefore, they, like little, naive children, need to be instructed and ordered so that they do not harm themselves or others.

Fatah, in her article, quite aptly points out the 'female body as battleground' phenomenon.

A woman's body is always the easiest battleground for religious zealots. It's hard to monitor honesty and morality but it's easy to chastise a woman if her hair is showing, if her clothes are too tight, if she's talking to a man in private, if she's out after 9 p.m.

For centuries it seems the female body has become a political battleground around the world. No part of the world is guiltless. Whether it be using rape as a weapon of war or telling women how to dress, this is an international and ageless tragedy. However, in recent times it seems Muslim countries have made the female body a favourite playground for their war games. Iran and Saudi Arabia tell women she must cover her body from head to toe. In Saudi Arabia she must have a male relative accompany her body when outside the home, her body must not drive - all to guard the morality of society, all to control this sexual being who was created to wreak havoc.*

Turkey tells women they must not cover their heads so that the rest of Europe does not see them as extremist or sympathetic to the fundamentalists. After all, we all know that only those extreme women wear the hijab.**

Women everywhere are told to veil for two common reasons. The first is to protect the morality of the Muslim Ummah. The morality of the Muslim Ummah lies in her body. If she uncovers her hair her sexuality will be released to wreak havoc and will lead to the ultimate destruction of the Ummah. The second, to pledge allegiance to other Muslims and demonstrate solidarity. The hijab is a clear label of Muslim-ness. It clearly tells the whole world you are a Muslim. Therefore, to show the Ummah's pride and confidence Muslim women must cover.

Just as these occurrences in Indonesia point out, the female body is still a ripe and 'fertile' battleground. Used to instill fear in people's hearts, her body terrifies men into oppressing. This makes this tactic extremely successful for those in the business of using bodies. How and when we will be able to defeat this is one question I wish we could answer but unfortunately this plague seems impossible eradicate.

* Read Fatima Mernissi's description of Imam Al-Ghazali's interpretation of female sexuality. The idea of woman as fitna-causing originate with him. Mernissi, F. (1987). Beyond the veil: Male-female dynamics in modern Muslim society. Bloomington : Indiana University.

**Editor's Note: This is SARCASM. Don't get uppity.

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?

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).

As featured on Racialicious.

It’s time to set the record straight, everyone. So here it is: belly dancing is not a significant facet of Middle Eastern culture. It’s a dance, not a lifestyle (not according to most Middle Eastern people, anyway).

I’ve had one too many people ask me if I belly dance when they hear about my religion or ethnicity. Belly dancing is something that is present in some form of another in most Middle Eastern cultures, but is not really a part of our identity. And I assure you, nowhere in the Holy Qur’an does it say, “Thou shalt belly dance.” But because of Hollywood’s old Orientalist glamour, images of belly dancing have become almost synonymous with the Middle East.

I can’t help but get irritated when someone assumes that s/he and I automatically have something in common because s/he belly dances. The truth of a real-live Middle Eastern woman belly dancing seems to validate all those silly images that come into one’s head about spangly costumes and the Dance of the Seven Veils. Belly dancing has a host of sexualized and savage images attached to it, and if Middle Eastern/Muslim women confess to belly dancing (for exercise, as a career, for fun, or whatever), those images get attached to us, and we no longer have individual thoughts or lifestyles. We don’t take care of our parents or our children, we don’t have jobs or have opinions about health care reform, we just belly dance. Like it’s all we do, all day. This is why it’s insulting when someone thinks s/he knows what it’s like to be a Middle Eastern/Muslim woman because s/he’s taken a belly dancing class or read a book about it. The image of a Middle Eastern woman belly dancing seems to take away from our identity: it erases who we really are, our different nationalities and ethnicities, our emotions, our day-to-day existence.

Now, let me assure you: my problem isn’t with the dance itself. Belly dancing is a great way to connect with one’s sensuality, to exercise, and to appreciate the body that God gave you. Nor is my problem with non-Middle Eastern women (or men) belly dancing (or with Middle Eastern people dancing).

What bothers me is the adoption of a caricatured Middle Eastern identity through coin-bedazzled bras and Middle Eastern stage names like “Amina” or “Vashti.” If you’re a non-Middle Eastern performer, why give yourself a Middle Eastern stage name? What’s wrong with a name that reflects your own ethnicity or interests? Is it not “ethnic” or “exotic” enough? Besides, how would you feel if someone else used the name your parents gave you (that perhaps also belonged to your grandmother or aunt) as a stage name for an act that most people in your culture consider shameful if done publicly? (Cultural lesson: in most parts of the Middle East, belly dancing is often a cover for illicit activities.)

Similarly, dance troupe names like “Desert Queens” or “Daughters of Scheherazade” serve the same exoticizing purpose when these troupes are full of non-Middle Eastern women set in a non-Middle Eastern setting (like Austin, Texas, for example, which hosted a Belly Dancing Convention last July).

I take offense at the presentation of Middle Eastern “culture” through things like transparent veils, coin necklaces, and henna tattoos because reducing the Middle Eastern experience to some jingly coins and a scimitar takes the humanity right out of us. Elements of Middle Eastern/Muslim stereotypes are irreparably attached to the use of swords, snakes, and veils. These props serve to reinforce the idea of Muslim/Middle Eastern women as dangerous, sexually arousing, sexually submissive, and just plain different from women in the West.

Performers (Middle Eastern or non-Middle Eastern) highlight these images when they (Middle Eastern or non-Middle Eastern) balance swords on their heads and give themselves henna tattoos. The inclusion of these props is often used to authenticate a Middle Eastern experience, making the performance or venue more like the “Mysterious Orient,” in which Middle Eastern women are acquiescing sexual props and Middle Eastern men are brutal and dangerous.

Why is this acceptable? These practices (other than henna for holidays and weddings) aren’t even Middle Eastern: Egyptian performers borrowed the ideas for these spangly suits from Hollywood in the early twentieth century. And no Middle Easterner just walks around all day with a sword perched atop her head. Belly dancing doesn’t even traditionally show off the stomach: a scarf is tied around one’s hips (over regular, concealing clothing) to emphasize the movements. So how did we get to sparkly bras and coin jewelry?!

Because sex sells! Early colonial performers knew what their (often Western or male) audiences wanted to see: sexuality. A pretty girl dancing sensually for the male gaze. Using veils in performances reiterates this: sashaying a veil under one’s heavily-painted eyes is done to entice and enchant, and is associated with the traditional face veils that upper-class (and thus inaccessible) Turkish, Egyptian, and Iranian women used to wear before (or during) colonization.

The problem is that belly dancing is permeated with all of these negative Orientalist dancing harem girl images. Can one belly dance without the coins, the henna, and/or swords? I think so. A long time ago, it was all about the scarf tied around the hips. It’s not flashy, but it’s sincere.

It's Halloween again here in the West, and I have to say...now that I'm a grown up, Halloween sucks. Especially because of:

1. Slutty costumes (I just had to say it)
2. Slutty “ethnic” costumes: Native American girl, geisha, etc.

In particular:

1. Harem girl costumes
2. Belly dancer costumes
3. Genie costumes
4. Cleopatra costumes
5. Arab sheikh costumes

These costumes reinforce the eroticized and/or dangerous stereotypes associated with Muslim and Middle Eastern men and women. Plus, it’s doubly insulting because (usually) non-Middle Eastern and/or non-Muslim people will “play dress-up” in these costumes, to supposedly “live like we do” for one night. The only missing detail is: none of the institutional oppression that we face as Muslims and Middle Easterners comes with the costume.

Just looking at the names of the costumes is informative enough: “Exotic Belly Dancer Costume” and “Sheik of Persia Arabian Costume” can tell you that these people have no idea about the culture they think they’re appropriating. (History lesson: Persia didn’t have sheikhs, they had shahs. And Persia and Arabia were two different places! AKH!)

Look at the women’s costumes: all are revealing and hypersexual. How many Middle Eastern women prance around in sheer pants and face veils? None. These costumes scream sexist Orientalism!

Don’t worry, guys! There are plenty of racist costumes for you, too! Take this “Arab Sheik” costume: of course he has a knife! All Middle Eastern men are dangerous, didn’t you know? You can even tell by his face: he’s pissed, and he’s going to take it out on some infidels!

And, if you’d like to pass on your racist Orientalist fantasies to your children, there are belly dancer costumes for little girls! That’s right! Make sure that your daughter learns that her self worth comes from how much her coin-bedazzled bra reveals and how pleasing her dancing is to a man! You can start as soon as she’s a toddler!

Ick. Enjoy your free candy! I hope you get sick from it.

In case you haven’t heard, it’s Islamo-Facism awareness week: David Horowitz and some other conservatives have decided that they’re going to pretend to take on the cause of the “poor, defenseless Muslim woman.” What garbage!

On Monday, Nonie Darwish (pictured here on the cover of her book) spoke at Wellesley College. Darwish is the founder of Arabs for Israel, and was a guest of Wellesley’s Jewish Hillel group. She was interviewed by Phyllis Chesler for Chesler’s blog, and the resulting article is ridiculously biased, painting Darwish as some type of blameless saint, bullied by the evil Muslim girls on Wellesley’s campus. Perhaps the title can illustrate my point: “The Heroic Nonie Darwish Faces Muslim ‘Mean Girl’ Power at Wellesley.”

The article, which I will critique fully in a minute, describes Darwish’s “heroic” speech, the “hostile” groups of Muslim women wearing headscarves that attended, and these same women’s “goon squad” behavior.

Now, sisters, I’ve got to say something here. If Ms. Darwish is correct, and some of the women were making faces and causing disruptions, then this is not cool. Ms. Darwish has a right to believe whatever she believes and speak as an invited guest, and it shows poor character to go to her lecture just to be a douchebag (plus, it makes Muslims look bad). If you don’t agree with her, don’t go to the lecture! Write an editorial to the school paper about how Islamo-Facism Awareness Week is bigoted instead. Or organize a countering “Islam Awareness Week” that has positive lectures about Islam and fun stuff to do—this is a lot more effective than disrupting a lecture. Or, go to the lecture, behave respectfully while taking notes, and then write a measured rebuttal for the school paper or a magazine.

Now, to the article. Chesler’s bias drips through the lines. She writes about Darwish’s lecture and paints the Muslim attendees as intimidating gangsters, and Darwish agrees with her: “They [the Muslim girls] quadruple-teamed Darwish and did not stop until Darwish ended her lecture. Twenty to thirty minutes of soft-core, well-choreographed, goon squad behavior. ‘They are Hamas-trained,’ says Darwish.” Hamas-trained? So because a bunch of people leave the lecture for whatever reason, they’re Hamas-trained? Ridiculous.

Just in case Chesler’s readers don’t get the point, Chesler exaggerates the idea that these Muslim women present a threat: Darwish says that the Jewish students were cringing, afraid “that the Muslims might physically hurt them afterwards. According to Darwish, one Jewish student told her that she ‘was locking her door. I am scared’).” Really? So because some Muslim students left the lecture, these students think that they’re going to get physically harmed? Do they think that the Muslim students left the lecture to go look up the Jewish students’ addresses and then stalk them for listening to Darwish’s lecture? Really?

I’m not disagreeing with the face that Hillel invited her, that she spoke, or that many in the Muslim community disagree with what she’s saying. I’m disagreeing with the negative portrait that Chesler paints of Muslim women. Calling us gangsters and implying that we’re going to hurt people who disagree with us? Please.

I’m also disagreeing with the fact that Ms. Chesler deifies Darwish as some sort of whistle-blower on Islam, without critiquing Darwish’s views or credentials. The article itself says that Darwish was born into a privileged military family in Egypt and now lives in America. Living in a privileged Egyptian family in the 1950s, 1960s, or 1970s gives someone a radically different perspective on Islam, Israel, and Egypt’s current political state. Egypt was very Westernized in these decades: Nasser and Sadat both clamped down very hard on religious institutions, alternately made war and peace with Israel, and Egyptian women rarely wore hejab back then. Growing up in that kind of Egypt could produce viewpoints that synchronize well with Western ideas about the Middle East and Islam.

So why is she a mouthpiece for Islamo-Facism awareness week? Perhaps it’s because she agrees with what they’re saying. Or perhaps it’s because Horowitz couldn’t book Ayaan Hirsi Ali to spew their organization’s Islamophobic crap. Either way, it the lecture provides us with an idea to how Islamo-Facism Awareness week will play out.