A Quiet Revolution (45 page)

Furthermore, in this post-
9
/
11
era Wadud, along with a group of four other women, would join to support Nomani in her activism re- garding women’s space at the Morgantown, West Virginia, mosque. On

June
4
,
2004
, this group, consisting of five women, marched together on the mosque in Morgantown, declaring that they were creating a “na- tional organization,” the Daughters of Hajar, “dedicated to reclaiming Muslim women’s rights from the mosque to the bedroom.”
18

Given the salience in the national public conversation in these times of the subject of Islam and women, the media not surprisingly widely reported on these women’s activism. In the context of the lively national interest that this subject now commanded, the mayor of Mor- gantown now formally welcomed their initiative, declaring that Mor- gantown was “honored to host this historical meeting of Muslim women. The women,” he continued, “are courageous pioneers and leaders. We are at a crossroads in creating communities of tolerance and inclusion. Morgantown is proud to serve as a shining example of what can be ac- complished through the active and vocal participation of women.”
19

The mayor’s words reflected in part the women’s own sense that these were historic times and that they were making history, taking part in actions that could transform Islam for Muslim women across the world. Wadud asserted, according to one report, that the group’s march on the mosque “would have a historic impact and help us rescript the current history of the face of Islam.”

And indeed this was a moment—extending through the entire post-
9
/
11
era in America thus far—of unprecedented opportunity for Muslim feminists, liberals, and progressives—and even liberal conser- vatives. The climate of the day was fiercely critical of radical and even of

strongly conservative Islam (such as Wahhabism), and it was a climate that was in general strongly supportive of critics of Islam from whatever perspective they spoke, including most particularly of Muslims speak- ing as feminists or liberals. In addition these were years when the issue of women in Islam had been squarely placed on the table as a matter of national interest to Americans in the public conversation on Islam. Peo- ple speaking out against Islam in the name of feminism and women’s rights could almost count in these times (far more than in the past) on the likelihood that their words and activism would capture national media attention. Consequently, their messages and activism, amplified by media attention, could come to have important and even, as Wadud asserted, historic consequences. The
New York Times,
among other na-

tional papers, intermittently reported on the developments regarding Nomani and the Morgantown mosque. An article in that paper in July
2004
quoted Nomani as declaring that “this is part of the war within Islam for how it’s defined in the world.” Since
9
/
11
, Nomani said, “I’ve seen that if we don’t assert ourselves, we’re relinquishing our religion to be defined by those who speak the loudest and act the toughest.”
20
‌

Nomani and Wadud continued to try to seize the moment to put forward their definition of Islam and their particular understanding of the religion. In March
2005
, for example, in an event timed to coincide

with the publication of Nomani’s book,
Standing Alone in Mecca: An American Woman’s Struggle for the Soul of Islam,
Nomani and Wadud resumed their activism by staging a mixed-gender congregational prayer to be led by a woman—Amina Wadud. In doing this they were explic- itly challenging conventional orthodox teachings as to the acceptability of women leading mixed-gender prayers, as well as with regard to ob- serving separation between men and women during prayers. The event was held in the Synod House at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, which had been rented for the occasion.

This mixed-gender prayer was cosponsored by another self-defined “progressive” Muslim organization, which had also come into being in this moment of opportunity, the group that had founded the Muslim WakeUp! website in
2003
. Attended by “more than a hundred men and

women,” and drawing a handful of protestors outside the cathedral, the event was covered by national and international media, including the
New York Times
and BBC television.
21

Like the women who formed the Daughters of Hajar and the indi- viduals who established Muslim WakeUp! other liberal Muslims seized the moment and formed groups and associations. Among other such organizations to emerge at this time was al-Fatiha, for example, a gay,

lesbian, bisexual, and transgender Muslim organization, and also the Progressive Muslim Union. Al-Fatiha had been founded in the late
1990
s by Feisal Alam, an American Muslim of South Asian background. Prior to
9
/
11
the organization had kept a very low profile for fear of becoming the target of violence from extremists. They had operated in the shad- ows, organizing conventions through semi-secret arrangements and re- vealing their location to attendees at the last moment for fear of violence.

After
9
/
11
and the tremendously heightened scrutiny by the U.S. gov- ernment, al-Fatiha emerged from the shadows, holding its conventions relatively openly and listing the names of its board and founders.

The Progressive Muslim Union was founded in November
2004
by

Omid Safi, a professor at the time at Colgate University, along with a group of other younger generation American Muslims, most of whom were academics or academics in the making. In an introduction to an edited book entitled
Progressive Muslims: On Justice, Gender, and Plural- ism,
Safi wrote that an “important part of being a progressive Muslim is the determination to hold Muslim societies accountable for justice and pluralism. It means openly and purposefully resisting, challenging and overthrowing structures of tyranny and injustice in these societies. At a general level, it means contesting injustices of gender apartheid (prac- ticed by groups such as the Taliban) as well as the persecution of reli- gious and ethnic minorities. . . . More specifically it means embracing and implementing a different vision of Islam than that offered by Wah- habi and neo-Wahhabi groups.”
22
Safi also liberally invoked the name not only of Martin Luther King, Jr. (as ISNA speakers also had often done), but also of Bob Dylan. Such names clearly signaled the American as well as the Muslim roots of the “progressive” form of Islam that the Progressive Muslims were proclaiming.

The book included several essays by Muslim feminists, as well an essay addressing the question of homosexuality in Islam by Scott Siraj al-Haqq Kugle. It included essays by a number of the most prominent younger Muslim male academics who identified as “progressive” or as “moderate” Muslims. These included (besides Omid Safi) Khaled Abou El Fadl, Farid Esack, and Ebrahim Moosa. One of the notable facts about

these post-
9
/
11
times and this rising generation of male Muslim aca-

demics is that issues of women and gender are now routinely among the issues they address. Indeed, it seems that anyone aspiring to leadership today in the religious-cum-academic community among Western Mus- lims, American or European, must give some generally liberally inclined attention at least to issues of women and gender.
23

Overall, the individuals making up these groups generally speak as committed Muslims. No matter how critical they are of conservative (as well as, of course, of militant) Islam, their common base position is that

the dominant conservative forms of Islam represent not, as they claim, some “true” and foundational Islam but rather particular ways of read- ing and interpreting Islam’s foundational texts and of translating them into law.

Most of those progressive and gender-conscious Islamic organizations founded in the early to mid-
2000
s such as those just mentioned— Daughters of Hajar, Muslim WakeUp! and Progressive Muslim Union— proved ephemeral. Even al-Fatiha, founded a few years before
9
/
11
but emerging publicly after that date, disappeared from the web, although it has since reappeared. A Ramadan dinner, for example, hosted by Presi- dent Obama on September
2
,
2009
, included on its guest list Mina Trudeau, “Executive Director of al-Fatiha Foundation.” Also among the guests was Ingrid Mattson, president of ISNA.
24

Other organizations emerging in this post-
9
/
11
moment have

proved more enduring—particularly, for example, the American Society for Muslim Advancement—ASMA. Founded in
1997
by Imam Feisal Rauf, author of
What’s Right with Islam: A New Vision for Muslims and the West
(
2004
), and by Imam Rauf ’s wife, Daisy Khan, who is executive director of ASMA Society, the society surged to new levels of activism, prominence, and visibility in the post-
9
/
11
era. Supported by an impres- sive list of U.S. foundations—among them the Carnegie Corporation of New York, the Ford Foundation, and the Rockefeller Brothers—ASMA describes its mission as being to “elevate the discourse on Islam and fos- ter environments in which Muslims thrive. We are dedicated,” the ASMA mission statement continues, “to strengthening an authentic expression of Islam based on cultural and religious harmony through interfaith col- laboration, youth and women’s empowerment, and arts and cultural ex-

change.”
25
ASMA has hosted a number of conventions bringing together “more than a hundred Muslim women activists, thinkers and writers from across world.” One such conference, the “Women’s Islamic Initia- tive in Spirituality and Equity Conference” (WISE), was held in New York in
2006
, and another, entitled “Muslim Women: Building Institu- tions, Creating Change,” was held in Kuala Lumpur in July
2009
. Among the topics discussed were domestic violence and ways of establishing grass-roots initiatives to support Muslim women worldwide.
26

Though several organizations proved to be quite ephemeral, they were nevertheless important for the ideas they generated and put into the public domain—ideas that now form part of the repertoire of pos- sibilities of thought and activism in relation to issues of women, femi- nism, and sexuality, and, in general, issues of progressive and liberal contestations of conservative forms of Islam. Moreover, the scholars who were associated with these organizations—among them Sa‘diyya Sheikh, Marcia Hermensen, Abou El Fadl, Esack, Safi, Moosa, Wadud, and Kecia Ali (author of
Gender and Sexuality in Islam
)—continue to be produc- tive, pioneering scholars in relation to work on women, gender, femi- nism, and other areas pertaining to progressive, liberal, or moderate forms of Islam.

Furthermore, another generation of young academics is already pressing forward. Like the generation just ahead of them, this genera- tion includes many scholars who identify as committed Muslims. Often they are people for whom Islamic justice must, by definition, include gender justice, even if, as they see it, past androcentric generations failed to interpret the Quran as entailing gender justice. By definition Islamic justice must—in the eyes of this new generation of committed American Muslims—self-evidently and rationally include gender justice if it is to be counted as, indeed, justice.

Among such younger academics is Asifa Quraishi. Quraishi, a for- mer hijabi, is a specialist in Islamic law and legal theory. Currently based at the University of Wisconsin, she has been actively working for women’s rights in various capacities. Quraishi was a founding member of the National Association of Muslim Lawyers, in which capacity she

drafted, in
2001
, “a clemency appeal brief in the case of Bariya Ibrahim

Magazu, who was sentenced to flogging in Nigeria.”
27
Quraishi was also president for a time of Karamah, an organization which describes itself as an organization of Muslim Women Lawyers for Human Rights founded by Aziza al-Hibri and based in Washington, D.C. Established in the
1990
s, Karamah, like the ASMA Society, was able to garner new support and to considerably expand its reach and services in the post-
9
/
11
era.

Altogether, the study of the Islamic textual and legal heritage as re- gards women is livelier and more dynamic today than at any other time

in my own lifetime—and indeed livelier than at any other moment in the history of feminism and Islam. I personally know, for example, as many as four Muslim women at Harvard University alone who are currently pursuing advanced degrees in areas pertinent to the legal and scriptural heritage of Islam in relation to women. Moreover, all of them—Havva Guney-Ruebenacker (hijabi), Yousra Fazli (former hijabi), Sara Omar (former hijabi), and Sarah Eltantawi—are women who bring to their work a passion for women’s rights and a familiarity with women’s stud- ies scholarship as well as, in most cases, a religious commitment to Islam. Remarkably, many of this cohort of young scholars bring new skills and knowledge to the table. Often, young scholars who have obtained B.A.’s at American academic institutions then follow this up with studies at tra- ditional Islamic universities and other sites of Islamic learning in the Muslim world—in Damascus or Cairo, for example. Then they return to pursue their graduate work at American universities, bringing these skills in Islamic traditional scholarship and learning to their work. We have never yet had academic work in the field of the study of women in Islam that draws fully on the intellectual and scholarly resources of both the Is- lamic world and the West. These are unprecedented times that promise to bring into being a new kind of scholarship.