Muslim women scholars of Islam, the question of qualifications, and romanticized images of the “Islamic tradition”

The following was inspired by the #NoAllMalePanels conversation that took place on Twitter. Speaking of which, if you’re a Muslim man and agree that there should be no more all-male panels, your support is useless without your signature on the pledge. Sign here. But understand that the #NoAllMalePanels wasn’t limited to acknowledging the authority of women scholars of Islam: it was about acknowledging and appreciating women’s knowledge in all fields. Many people made the discussion about academics versus traditionalist scholars, but that was just one part of the campaign.

http://medya.turkishreview.org/turkish-review/2013/06/01/women-islam-knowledge.jpg

One of the major and more recurring points in the discussion, coming from the opponents of the conversation, was that “This isn’t about gender! Stop making this about gender! No one ever / we don’t invite women to talk about Islam because there aren’t any qualified women to speak on Islam. The women you’re talking about who you claim are ‘scholars of Islam’ are actually not scholars. They are academics! Know the difference, okay, you feminists?” To deny that gender has anything to do with this is to deny that there are serious structural obstacles to women’s religious authority (I’ll talk about this below), but for now, let’s acknowledge that we rarely/never hear anyone questioning the men’s qualifications. We simply assume they must be scholars if they have a beard of an acceptable length, wear a head-gear of some sort, preferably wear Arab clothing. When it comes to the qualification of the men “scholars,” we remember to focus on their knowledge, not the details of where/how/by whom they were educated about Islam. Zakir Naik anyone? Or some 95% of the other men “scholars” of our time.  It helps them immensely that they merely say what the community wants to hear, that they only satisfy the community’s patriarchal expectations of what Islam is like. But when it comes to a woman who speaks about Islam, her knowledge becomes completely irrelevant, and we have a whole bunch of other important questions to ask. Like is her hair covered, did she study at a secular institution, is she a feminist, etc. You can read more about this problem here. And here’s something on the gendering of knowledge and authority (so when you say something like, “no, no, she’s just not knowledgeable. It’s not about her gender at all. Stop making this about women, you feminists!” maybe you can look a little more closely and see that gender is actually a huge factor in the denial and dismissal of women’s religious/interpretive authority in our communities). Also, “not enough qualified women scholars of Islam” my foot. Check out this positively overwhelming list of scholarship on Islam, most of which is by Muslim women – and it’s not even comprehensive! And, while I’m at it with this whole self-promotion thing, I might as well also share a link to something I wrote once on female authority, the role of justice and ethics in Islamic feminist hermeneutics, and my response to the idea that “Muslim women/feminists would be able to exercise some authority in the Muslim community if only they’d just …” (insert appropriate patriarchal statement).

Okay, so.

The Islamic Reform Symposium in Exeter: authority, Muslim feminists, and woman-led prayers

In June, I attended an Islamic reform conference in Exeter, UK. It was a beautiful experience, and I’m saddened that the symposium at which I spoke was the last of the 3-year project – because it would’ve been great to try at it again, hah!

Guest Post: Feminist Ramadans, Feminist Jihads, and Unnecessary Feminist Sacrifices

Quoted from the article below. On the sacrifices of men and the expectations from women.

Beloved readers,

The following is a guest post by The Fatal Feminist, whom we have quoted on this blog before and who everyone should know because she has an amazing blog and she’s an amazing writer – God put even more barakah in her writing and her life, aameen. (She’s on a hiatus with blogging until August, but she needed to share the following.) I’ve learned so much from her ever since I discovered her blog, and she makes for a great companion at conferences and whatnot (and generally for a great friend)! Surely, you all recall my having had a blast last year’s AAR conference primarily because she was there with me ❤

In what follows, she discusses the details of the incident (or anecdote, rather) that inspired one of my recent blog posts, the one where I lamented our (Muslims’) selective allure towards justice and attempted to remind us all that, shockingly enough, much, if not all, of what women face in the mosques is injustice, and we need to strive to fix that.

I love the way TFF has written the piece below. It’s as if reading someone’s diary, and, despite the daunting subject, it’s very soothing to the ears. Also very entertaining at times because, as many feminists would know, humor is an important tool for pointing out things people refuse to hear otherwise. I’m still cracking up at her brother’s being identified now at his mosque as Menstrual Man (well, “Period Man,” but he prefers “Menstrual Man” instead).

Enjoy!

All of what follows is TFF’s work.

“Feminist Ramadans, Feminist Jihads, and Unnecessary Feminist Sacrifices”

“You used to force women to pray in the back, behind a wall? You mean like a time-out?” ―children 20 years from now, to the uncles who were on the wrong side of history, and the wrong side of Islam

My favorite masjid is so severely sex-segregated that there isn’t merely a barrier for the women; there’s an entirely separate tiny afterthought of a room. But it’s my favorite because it is in the hills, where the stars are the brightest, next to sheds with horses in them (my mother once chastised me for feeding the horses before breaking my own fast during iftar time) and in the midst of wild plants, cats, deer, rabbits, and snakes—and, according to the claims of my brothers, jinn. It is a tangled, untamed place, and my heart always quakes at the glimmering city lights far away. On Ruby Avenue, my imagination is also wild, vibrant, and irrepressible. It was where I went to Quran classes as a child and studied under the imam, but because of the segregation, I rarely attend anymore, since I’m not fond of second-class citizen treatment; though aunties constantly demand to know why, the response from my mother is always that I’m busy with class and work, which they then proceed to make clear is an unacceptable excuse.

Thoughts on the 2014 CAIR Banquet in San Diego

Amusingly patriarchal things happened before, during, and after the CAIR (Council on American-Islamic Relations) banquet in San Diego this past November. Generally speaking–and very, very generally speaking–I can only say that the Muslim community and Muslim leaders have a distressing amount of progress to make in terms of acknowledging women’s voices and concerns. And leadership!

You see, The Fatal Feminist (Nahida) and I decided that since we were already in San Diego anyway, we might as well attend the CAIR banquet that was taking place one of the days we were there. I’ll talk about the AAR experience in another blog post—that was AMAZING! Because hamdallah for Islamic feminism.