Ayah 35 of Surah 33, Al-Ahzab
(The Confederates):
Innal-Muslimina wal-Muslimati
wal-mu’minina wal-mu’minati
wal-qanitina wal-qanitati
was-sadiqina was-sadiqati
was-sabirina was-sabirati
wal-khashi’ina wal-khashi’ati
wal-mutasaddiqina wal-mutasaddiqati
was-saa imina was-saa imati
wal-hafizina furujahum wal-hafizati
wadh-dhakirinal-laha kathiranw-wadh-dhakirati
a’addal-lahu lahum-maghfiratanw-wa ajran azima.
Verily, for all men and women who have surrendered
themselves unto God,
and all believing men and believing women,
and all truly devout men and truly devout women,
and all men and women who are true to their word,
and all men and women who are patient in adversity,
and all men and women who humble themselves,
and all men and women who give in charity,
and all self-denying men and self-denying women,
and all men and women who are mindful of their
chastity,
and all men and women who remember God
unceasingly;
for them has God readied forgiveness of sins and a
mighty reward. [33:35]
Last
week, the Muslim Women’s Alliance hosted a program entitled “Inclusive Spaces for Women in Mosques.” The speakers presented arguments for
creating more inviting and equitable spaces for women to pray, and for more
involvement of women in the leadership of mosques. I congratulate the organizers of this event
for their courage in highlighting the problem, and addressing some of the sad
consequences for the Muslim community. This
will be an evolving process, and this was a great step.
I
do not believe, however, that we can talk about inclusion and increasing
women’s attendance at prayers in mosques and raising the numbers of women in
governance as long as we accept that women cannot be spiritual leaders at the
same level as Muslim men. The issue that
no one addressed at that meeting was
equal rights to religious leadership in the Muslim community. I heard at least three of the women who spoke
say "don't worry, we're not talking about a revolution. We are not
advocating for female Imams." Equal
access to spiritual leadership in the Muslim community is precisely the objective
that we need to be honest and up front about. Everything evolves from the
premise of equality. Skirting around the issue of women's equality before
Allah by advocating for equal access to prayer space, but accepting second-class
status when it comes to spiritual leadership is an equivocation.
The
women's suffragists in the United States in the early nineteen hundreds (my
great aunt Bessie was one of them) did not ask for the right to vote as half a
person, or three-quarters of a person, or vote only in local but not national
elections. They demonstrated - went to jail - for full voting
rights. During the civil rights movement of the 1960s, Martin Luther King
did not deliver his "I have a dream" speech and say "we should
strive to get three-quarters of the way up the mountain.” This is the
only way I can see this issue. Full and equal status. Period.
I
recently interviewed a very talented and ambitious young woman, who just
graduated from the University of Chicago's Religious Studies program, who told
me that her goal is to be a Muslim chaplain (a spiritual counselor) because
“that is the highest level I am allowed as a woman.” I was struck that someone so obviously
talented could not allow herself to entertain any higher leadership goal in the
Muslim religious community. She and other women like her should be with the
Usama Canon's and Hamza Yusuf's of Islam in America. This is the
future. As I see it, without this, there is no sustainable future for
Islam in America.
There
is historical precedent for this position in Islamic history. But the
fact that female scholars and the male scholars who supported women's rights
and leadership throughout history have been marginalized is no surprise given
the primacy of patriarchy in the Muslim world. I have no illusions about the challenges
ahead.
When American Muslim scholar
and activist Dr. Amina Wadud delivered a Friday khutbah and led men and women
in prayer in a mosque in New York City in March 2005, (organized by MuslimWakeUp.com),
she said it was “the continuation of her own spiritual struggle to realize
Islam’s liberation of all people, an outgrowth of the African-American struggle
for equality.” Reactions were immediate
and vehement, for and against.
Ulama (Muslim religious leaders)
overwhelmingly condemned the act. According to Hadith scholar and Associate
Professor of Islamic Studies at Georgetown University, Jonathan A.C. Brown, “the
response was clear: the infallible
consensus of the Umma prohibited
women from leading mixed groups in any of the required daily prayers. Moreover, a woman delivering the Friday
sermon was inconceivable and unheard of in Islamic history. As [Shaykh Ali Gomaa, Grand Mufti of Egypt] wrote
in a representative fatwa, these prohibitions had been agreed upon by ‘the
people of knowledge from the four schools of law, nay the eight schools of
law,’ referring to the four Sunni schools, the two Shiite, the Zahiri and the
Ibadi Kharijite schools.” (Misquoting
Muhammad: the Challenge and Choices of
Interpreting the Prophet’s Legacy: pp. 189-190).
There are two approaches to
addressing the ulama’s rejection of women as spiritual leaders. The first is academic, and involves close
study of the classical Islamic texts for evidence for and against this issue. Jonathan Brown’s book presents a compelling
case for re-consideration of their position.
The second approach is to re-consider how we think about our practice of
the faith. I will summarize some of
Brown’s conclusions first, and address the second point at the end.
Brown begins his analysis
saying, “even Gomaa’s fatwa tacitly acknowledged the dearth of any real
scriptural evidence against woman-led prayer.
This lay behind the decision by the epochal Sufi sage Ibn Arabi to
actually affirm women’s categorical right to lead prayers. Ibn Arabi was no lackluster jurist and Hadith
scholar, and he noted that none of the ulama who prohibited woman-led prayer
had any scriptural proof (nass) to support
their views. Thus, ‘they should not be
listened to.’ Indeed, the Qur’an is
silent on the question of woman-led prayer, and the only Hadith cited directly
in classical and modern discussions, which quotes the Prophet as ordering, ‘A
woman will not lead man in prayer, nor a Bedouin a townsman, nor an iniquitous
man a believer,’ has never been upheld as reliable at all. Rather, it has always been rated as ‘weak’ or
even ‘feeble…. Much of the verbiage on the prohibition of woman-led prayer in
classical works of Shariah law consists of derivative arguments. Each leaves ample openings for objection” (Brown, p. 190).
Brown goes on to detail
several of the reasons citied by ulama for prohibiting woman-led prayer, and
offers ways that these objections might be countered. But, he concludes, “the main reason that men
do not pray behind women in Islam is easily understood: a woman bowing and prostrating on the floor
in front of men, her posterior raised in the air, could hamper concentration
for both parties.” Dr. Brown then
proposed that “a female prayer leader could be shielded by a screen: the Shafi’i and Hanbali schools considered
the prayer of a member of the congregation valid even if he was separated from
the leader by a wall, barrier or street.
What mattered was being able to hear the commands of the prayer” (p.
191).
Even Dr. Brown did not note a
more obvious response to this, which is that women have for centuries been
required to concentrate on their prayers despite the fact that there are men’s
posteriors raised in the air in front of them.
Is it so impossible for men to learn the same skill set? Isn’t it insulting to men to expect that they
could not? That said, I am not advocating completely mixing
the sexes during prayer. I am just pointing
out the absurdity of that rationale. The
interests of propriety and comfort can be accommodated in a way that ensures
equal dignity, and equal access to prayer space and leadership in prayer. For example, prayer space can be separated
into two sides with an aisle between.
When a woman serves as prayer leader, she can stand, and pray, in front
of the women.
Brown raises another of the
reasons ulama cite for disallowing women’s public religious leadership - that
seeing a woman speak or hearing her voice in public would excite the
“uncheckable male appetites in the audience and result in social strife (fitna).
By this logic, a woman’s voice is part of her awra - nudity, tempting men.”
He counters “there is nothing
impermissible about hearing a woman’s voice. Women spoke openly to the Prophet” (p.
191-192). Again, this is the kind of
thinking that is rooted in patriarchy, absurd and unworkable in the context
modern American society.
Brown enumerates several
Islamic scholars who did approve of women leading prayer. “The great tenth-century jurist Tabari (d.
923) allowed women to lead prayer categorically, as had two of Shafi’i’s
leading students, Muzani (d. 878) and Abu Thawr (d. 854). We have already mentioned Ibn Arabi’s
position. … Tabari was so respected a
jurist in Baghdad and beyond that a madhhab
[school of thought] formed around his teachings. Although it eventually became extinct,
Tabari’s madhhab flourished among
Sunni ulama for two centuries after his death.
Abu Thawr also constituted his own madhhab,
which attracted numerous adherents in Azerbaijan and Armenia. Muzani was one of the main disciples of
Shafi’i and his abridgement of Shafi’I’s teachings became the basis for all
later books of substantive law in the Shafi’I school. The claim of consensus made by Gomaa and
others is unconvincing in light of this dissent.” (Brown, pp. 192-193)
Brown undertakes an
exhaustive analysis of transmission of the Hadith of Umm Waraqa, whom the
Prophet instructed to lead her household in prayer. There are two versions of this Hadith. The more substantiated and stronger version
is gender neutral, meaning that she could lead women and men. A weaker version with only one transmitter
claims the Prophet told her to lead “the women of her household in
prayer.” Not surprisingly, the version
given more weight historically by the ulama has been the weaker version, where
she was told to lead only women.
Brown
concludes, “Clearly, woman-led, mixed congregation prayers are not established
practice in the Islamic tradition. But
they are not unprecedented or as controversial as many think. The Hadith of Umm Waraqa proves that the
Prophet commanded at least one woman to lead a mixed congregation in
prayer. A woman-led Friday prayer, with
the sermon delivered by a woman, is clearly a novelty. But none of the ulama’s objections to it rest
on any firm, direct scriptural evidence, and solutions exist to the concerns
they raise. Muslims today thus find
themselves faced with a question: in the
absence of opposing evidence from scripture, does simply adhering to how things
have always been done justify denying half of the population the right to
public religious leadership? It is
revealingly plain that if this issue did not involve the knot of gender and power,
the evidence for permitting it would carry the day without controversy.” (p. 199)
The
question I have been examining here is the prohibition against women as full
participants in the spiritual leadership of the Muslim community. Brown provides us with scholarship from the
classical Islamic texts that supports women leading prayer. But it should be apparent by now that the response
to this issue is part of a much broader question. And that is whether Muslims in the 21st
century consider the practice of the faith as a closed, tradition-bound process
that has only to be studied and followed, or whether it is a living, evolving
code of ethics that needs to be continually re-evaluated and adapted to
changing circumstances.
Brown
shares evidence that leads to the conclusion that it is also necessary to re-evaluate
historical interpretations of Hadith. He
gives an example that is not related to woman led prayer, but that illustrates
this point. Brown details a debate that arose among ulama about the length of
time that women should abstain from prayer after childbirth. “Early Muslim scholars were asked how long a
woman should skip her prayers after delivering a child. Finding no evident scriptural ruling on the
subject, they used best judgment. There
was no reliable Hadith anywhere on this topic.
Yet we find chapters devoted to the issue in the canonical Hadith
collections of the mid-ninth century. These Hadiths then repeatedly appear as
evidence in subsequent books of Shariah law.”
(p. 179) In other words, when the
Hadith were not available to support their position, the ulama made them up. In Brown’s words, “Patriarchy could bend the
law to its will.” (p. 197)
No
where in these discussions, at least as related by Brown, is there any
reference to the possibility that there is no reliable Hadith on resumption of
prayer after childbirth because God
and the Prophet trusted the judgment of women to know when their post-partum
bleeding had stopped. This is just one
example of many where the male ulama made rulings on how women should conduct
their spiritual lives.
In
fact, there is evidence from the Prophet’s life that shows him as more inclined
to trust women’s own judgment on women’s issues. Bukhari included a Hadith narrated by Aisha
that tells of a woman who came to the Prophet to ask how she should clean
herself after her period had ended. The
Prophet told her to just clean herself. She
asked again, and again for specifics on the exact way to clean herself. Finally, he told her, “Sobhan Allah [Praise God] just clean yourself.” Then Aisha, who had witnessed the interchange,
took the woman and told her, “I will show you how to clean yourself.” The story as related does not tell us whether
this woman was particularly dense, or she wished to make a show of submissive
piety, which the Prophet clearly thought was exaggerated. The ulama were faced with many such questions
after the Prophet died, as the community grew and consolidated around a new set
of values. They developed rules and
regulations that fit those needs and their own time and culture, many of which
have been handed down over the generations without question or challenge. They need now to be re-examined, re-evaluated,
and revised or rejected as no longer relevant.
Under
the influence of our patriarchal past, half our population has been excluded
from the process of interpretation, re-evaluation and reform. I believe that it is possible to re-conceive
Islam beyond patriarchy, and women are essential as leaders in that process.
But it is easy for me to say that – to me it seems
so obvious. I was not born a Muslim, and my practice of Islam has been an
evolutionary process. For those who grew
up in Muslim families, these issues are much more wrenching. They are about heritage, culture and custom,
and our most important relationships. And yet, Muslim women, and men, are
confronting them. Like it or not,
Muslim or not, Islam has become part of the fabric of society in the United
States of America. And Muslims in America
cannot afford to blindly follow traditions that no longer make sense, and hope
that our religious institutions can somehow survive. We must evolve or they will eventually perish. In America we have the freedom and social
space to do that. In my humble and
always fallible but convinced opinion, that is the pre-ordained, natural
progression of our faith tradition.
Surah
57: Al-Hadid
(Iron)
Alam ya’ni lilladhina amanuu
an-takhsha’a qulubuhum lidhikril-lahi wa ma nazala minal-haqqi wa la yakunu
kalladhina utul-Kitaba min-qablu fatala alayhimul-amadu faqasat qulubuhum; wa
kathirum-minhum fasiqun. [16]
I lamuu annal-laha yuhyil-arda ba da
mawtiha. Qad bayyanna lakumul-Ayati la
allakum ta’qilun. [17]
Innal-mussaddiqina wal-mussaddiqati wa
aqradul-laha qardan hasanany-yuda ‘afu lahum wa lahum ajrun-karim. [18]
Is it not time that the hearts of all
who have attained to faith should feel humble at the remembrance of God and of
all the truth that has been bestowed from on high, lest they become like those
who were granted revelation aforetime, and whose hearts have hardened with the
passing of time so that many of them are depraved? [16]
Know that God gives life to the earth
after it has been lifeless!
We have indeed made Our messages clear
unto you, so that you might use your reason. [17]
Verily, as for the men and women who
accept the truth as true, and who offer up unto God a goodly loan, they will be
amply repaid, and shall have a noble reward. [18]
Thank you for this. It gives me hope!
ReplyDeleteI really wish the information in the clip below and the support of the scholars would have been available to Amina Wudud when she needed it most.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x45ysEfSuX0
Wonderful khutbah, and that is so absolutely cool that you have remembered and cherished your suffragette ancestor. Looking forward to seeing the suffragette movie with you in October!!
ReplyDelete