FREEING MUSLIM WOMEN FROM SUFFERING

The Boston Globe - November 28, 2002

By Zainab Al-Suwaij

I was grabbing a much-needed lunch at 4:45 P.M when a woman asked me an innocent question: “Why are you eating lunch so late?” I get this question a lot during Ramadan, and I explained how fasting during daylight hours for the month of Ramadan is one of the five pillars of Islam.

But this time I stopped to ask myself a question: Why was I fasting? Denying yourself food is only an act of physical purification, but Ramadan, like Lent or Yom Kippur, requires that Muslims also experience a spiritual cleansing. You come to appre ci ate many things you normally take for granted, like food. Or, as I realized this year, freedom.

My empty stomach sank. Ali was shining a spotlight on the dark side of our society. While Ramadan requires that Muslims look inward, this can be painful. Human beings do not like to confront the imperfections of their families and societies. Muslims, with the importance we place on honor and shame, are no exception.

But I grew up in Iraq, and I experienced firsthand the enormous pressures of Muslim society. As a girl, every time I would begin to speak my mind I was told to be quiet - by men and women. Even in secular Iraq, I was constantly reminded that female opinions do not count.

On the night before their wedding, many friends of mine had their mothers caution them: "Rajlech gabrech - your husband is your grave." The message we heard was clear: You are nothing without your man. This cultural legacy means that even educated and progressive Muslim women fear speaking out. That is why, even today, Ali's advocacy campaign on behalf of battered women is so unusual.

Sadly, I was not surprised to learn that Ali began to receive hate mail and death threats.

Dutch police took these seriously, and the mayor of Amsterdam sent bodyguards. After trying to live in hiding, Ali finally fled the Netherlands. "Almost 20 Muslim associations have condemned the threats," the Times wrote, "but at the same time faulted her for criticizing Islam."

I have no way of verifying all of Ali's claims, and she and I probably disagree about some aspects of Islam. But I respect her right to break the silence on the abuse that goes on inside some Muslim families and in Muslim society. Women of any religion should never accept abuse, and Ali should not have to think twice about speaking out.

Some Muslims fear that Ali is trying to impose Western values on the Muslim cultural traditions. But we know that God created women free and equal and that God is just and merciful. It is not our tradition to be humiliated, beaten, and hurt. Our tradition is to treat women as a most precious part of society.

Ali does not want to change our religion, but to end the physical abuse of women. Even if we do not agree with all of what Ali says, she deserves to be heard - and so do we. We Muslim women should not underestimate our power and abilities. Our voices can make a difference. At the least, we cannot abandon those Muslim women who do dare to speak out.

"Either I stop my work or I learn to live with the feeling that I'm not safe," Ali told The New York Times. "I'm not stopping." Good for her, and good for women everywhere. As Ali's Muslim sister, I stand with her because I respect her opinion and admire her courage to express it in the face of such opposition. Ignoring the social problems Ali has identified will not make them go away. They will only grow worse.

We have to be an example to our own children. Children watch their parents carefully, and when they see women facing abuse with silence, they start to accept it as normal. I want my daughter and my son to see me speak out.

This Ramadan, millions of Muslim women and men are fasting: to atone for their sins, improve themselves, and help make the world a better place. As we all look inward to look outward, I pray that we will find the faith and strength to begin an open and honest discussion about how we are going to free ourselves from suffering.