Islam’s
theology of gender thus contends with a maze, a web of connections that demand
familiarity with a diverse legal code, regional heterogeneity, and with the
metaphysical no less than with the physical. This complexity should warn us
against offering facile generalizations about Islam’s attitude to women.
Journalists, feminists, and cultivated people, generally in the West, have
harbored deeply negative verdicts here. Often these verdicts are arrived at
through the observation of actual Muslim societies, and it would be both futile
and immoral to suggest that the modern Islamic world is always to be admired for
its treatment of women. Women in countries such as Saudi Arabia, where they are
not even permitted to drive cars, are objectively the victims of an oppression
that is not the product of a divinely willed sheltering of a sex, but of ego, of
the nafs of the male.
In
this way, types of “Islamization” being launched in several countries today
by individuals driven by resentment and committed to an anthropomorphized, and
hence Andromorphic, God, appear to bear no relation either to traditional fiqh
discourse or to the revelatory insistence on justice. This imbalance will
continue unless actualized religion learns to reincorporate the dimension of ihsan,
which valorizes the feminine principle, and also obstructs and ultimately
annihilates the ego, which underpins gender chauvinism. We need to distinguish,
as many Muslim women thinkers are doing, between the expectations of the
religion’s ethos (as legible in scripture, classical exegesis, and
spirituality), and the actual asymmetric structures of post-classical Muslim
societies, which, like Christian, Jewish, Hindu, and Chinese cultures, contain
much that is in real need of reform.
By
now it should have become clear that we are not vaunting the revelation as
either a “macho” chauvinism or as a miraculous prefigurement of late
20th-century feminism. Feminism, in any case, has no orthodoxy, as Fiorenza
reminds us. Certain of its forms are repellent to us and are clearly damaging to
women and society, while others may demonstrate striking convergences with the
Shari`ah and our gendered cosmologies. We advocate a nuanced understanding which
tries to bypass the sexism-versus-feminism dialectic, by proposing a theology in
which the Divine is truly gender neutral, but gifts humanity with a legal code
and family norms which are rooted in the understanding that, as Irigaray
insists, the sexes “are not equal but different,” and will naturally
gravitate towards divergent roles, which affirm rather than suppress their
respective genius.
Biology
should be destiny, but a destiny that allows for multiple possibilities.
Women’s discourse valorizes the home; but Muslim women have, for long periods
of Islam’s history, left their homes to become scholars. A hundred years ago,
the orientalist Ignaz Goldziher showed that perhaps 15 percent of medieval
hadith scholars were women, teaching in the mosques and universally admired for
their integrity. Colleges such as the Saqlatuniyah Madrasah in Cairo were funded
and staffed entirely by women. The most recent study of Muslim female
academicians, by Ruth Roded, charts an extraordinary dilemma for the researcher.
If
US and European historians feel a need to reconstruct women’s history
because women are invisible in the traditional sources, Islamic scholars are
faced with a plethora of source material that has only begun to be studied.
... In reading the biographies of thousands of Muslim women scholars, one is
amazed at the evidence that contradicts the view of Muslim women as
marginal, secluded, and restricted.
Stereotypes
come under almost intolerable strain when Roded documents the fact that the
proportion of female lecturers in many classical Islamic colleges was higher
than in modern Western universities. `A’ishah, Mother of the Believers, who
taught hadith in the ur-mosque of Islam, is, as always, the indispensable
paradigm: lively, intelligent, devout, and humbling to all subsequent memory.
But
until past ideals are reclaimed, a polarization in Muslim societies is likely.
The Westernized classes will reject traditional idioms, simply because those
styles are not Western and fail to satisfy the elite’s self-image. The
pseudosalafi literalists will continue to reject Sufism’s high regard for
women and its demand for the destruction of the ego. The same constituency will
defy legitimate calls for a due ijtihad-based transformation of aspects
of Islamic law, not because of any profound moral understanding of that law, but
because of a ham-fisted exegesis of usul (principles of Islam) and
because those calls are associated with Western influence and demands.
Whether
the conscientious middle ground, inspired by the genius of tradition, can seize
the initiative, and allow an ego-free and generous Muslim definition of the
Sunnah to shape the agenda in our rapidly polarizing societies, remains to be
seen. No doubt, the Sufi insight that there is no justice or compassion on earth
without an emptying of the self will be the final yardstick among the wise. But
it is clear that the Islamic tradition offers the possibility of a truly radical
solution, offering not only to itself but to the West the transcendence of a
debate which continues to perplex many responsible minds, contemplating an
emergent society where the absence of roles presides over an increasingly
damaging absence of rules.