Amina Wadud – Page 4 – Feminism and Religion

Vipassana 3 by amina wadud

I really learned a lot from my Vipassana experience. I embraced the challenge to meditate for 10 hours a day and to keep noble silence in between. These were par for the course. However, in this last blog, I will bring attention to some of the negative consequences of choosing my Vipassana in India at a small, out of the way place in the state of Rajastan.

You should know I make no bones about my American (of African descent) baby boomer status. I am a child of the universe. Yep, the 70’s marked my character and all of my life pursuits from then on. I still wear blue jeans at 60 and over weight. I still decorate my hair (in dreadlocks!) People who know me appreciate the hippy-gypsy personality. I appreciate it.

So let me be honest, I went to find enlightenment in India. That I also went to find it in Indonesia between 2008 and 2010 or Malaysia in 1989 is no less so than my efforts to find it also in my own America for the days in between traveling the world over. I want to KNOW the meaning of life and to SEE the purpose of my existence.

Let me also make no bones about this: I hated India; some days actively so. Meanwhile, some days were experiences of sheer awe and wonder in being there. Thus, most days were a kind of love-hate emotional roller coaster. India was the dirtiest place I have ever been (and that is approximately 55 countries). Most importantly India has the worst gender dynamics I have ever experienced (and YES, I have been to Saudi Arabia; I’ve been to Afghanistan; I have lived in parts of the Middle East and Africa). So my conclusions are based on extensive personal experience.

There are also many, many good things about India, hence my love-hate relationship. In this blog it is my hate of India that feeds into my let down at Vipassana. What I describe here is NOT an intentional part of the Vipassana experience as organized by its founder and his students. Mr. Goenka never said anything even subtly misogynistic in our daily lessons—and trust me, I listen as intently as I observe other dimensions of gender inequality.

One of the features of the ten day retreat was gender separation. No problem. I have lived and traveled extensively in Muslim circles where this is par for the course. Nothing new, nothing exceptional and nothing I could not abide with. What I could not handle was the ways in which the conditions FOR the women, as separate from the men, also slipped into that under-stated gender disparity with no means to alleviate it. None of these are gross or abusive, but they had an impact on my experience which is why I mention them.

Our dormitory did not have a hot water heater (and the temperatures were cool to cold, as opposed to hot summers when tepid water is more than comfortable, it is preferred.) The rooms were cold too. To remedy this problem (supposedly) they gave us access to an empty room in the dormitory across from us that had a hardly-working hot water heater. By “hardly” I mean of 11 days I bathed there, for only one of them was the water actually hot. Hot enough that when we hauled it to our own bathrooms we had to add cold water to take a warm ladle-bath. Otherwise, we would haul tepid water daily, because it was slightly better than the cold water that ran from our own taps. Every day we would line up to “test” if the water was more than tepid. This meant that we had to communicate to the other women. By far the most frequent occasion for breaking noble silence was in our indications about the water temperature in that spare room.

The women’s dining hall could only be accessed by walking off the pavement into the dirt, dog-do and cow dung around over-grown bushes to get to the back of the main building. Once we arrived at the door, we had to climb stairs with no first step but rather two flat bricks precariously laid out. Then we came through a door that was sometimes locked from the inside. We were like beggars seeking permission to do what the men walked up freely to do in the same building through a broad lighted stairway and double doors. On one occasion a few additional women joined our ranks but no effort was made to add to the number of eating utensils causing the need for someone(me) to walk up to the kitchen door (through the men’s section) and solicit, silently, for additional plates so everyone could eat.

The men entered the meditation hall through an outer room in which they left their shoes. The women entered from the other side and were told to put our shoes on the porch. From there, the dogs hauled off the shoes. My sandals happened to be leather, so they were chewed on and bitten. In the end, I left them in the trash in India. I am NOT a shoe person. I wear only flat practical shoes. I only own a few pair at time, which I keep for years.

Now, here’s the thing. I’ve worked my entire adult life to distinguish between gender oppressions that are manifest because of patriarchal perspectives and practices and the fundamentals and values or principles of my faith system. I also note that religions often use the double talk of “piety” to condition women’s acquiescence to their own oppressions. As the days of Vipassana unfolded, I became more aware of my own anger regarding a life time of working to end gender inequities. Meanwhile, I was continually bombarded with them at this center. In the end, I felt that if I let my guard down, by fully buying into the discourse about love, compassion, peace and liberation I would also have to ignore these violations. I didn’t wish anyone harm, but I was so leery that a request for benevolence would camouflage my need for resilience against gender oppressions that were being condoned under the guise of religious transcendence.

In the end resistance to manifest forms of oppression interfered with my ability to surrender to the demands for benevolence. A simple sharing of both benevolent and adverse conditions by both women and men could have gone a long way to change what was so inequitable about a practice that demanded equanimity.

amina wadud is Professor Emerita of Islamic Studies, now traveling the world over seeking answers to the questions that move many of us through our lives. Author of Qur’an and Woman: Rereading the Sacred Text from a Woman’s Perspective and Inside the Gender Jihad, she will blog on her life journey and anything that moves her about Islam, gender and justice, especially as these intersect with the rest of the universe.

Nelson Mandela to hell? by amina wadud

As I am transiting back into America from Asia, Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela made his final transition from our collective human lives to the next dominion. (I mention my transition only to apologize for not continuing with the third installment on Vipassana; sometimes real life—or death –gets in the way).

Instead, I want to say a few words about the man President Obama referred to as “the last great hero of the 20th Century.” First the personal glimpse: I got to shake hands with Mandela when he included Malaysia among those countries he visited upon release from a 27 year prison term. It was 1991 and I felt the wind of change. In a small country like Malaysia it’s easier to get up close and personal with a national guest of this stature. No big deal (but I did tell my friends I wouldn’t wash my hand for a week!).

The beginnings of my own deep considerations about gender in Islam were under way at this same time and in fact got their biggest boost when I visited South Africa for the first time. The whole nation was marking 100 days in the Mandela presidency. Every fiber in the air sparkled with the intensity of change. I became friends with South African Muslims who had struggled side by side with comrades from all races and religions in the movement to tumble apartheid. Sometimes they’d had to stand against conservative members of their own Muslim community to form such alliances. Continue reading “Nelson Mandela to hell? by amina wadud”

THANKS-giving by amina wadud

Last week was that most contested U.S. family holiday, Thanksgiving. No, I’m not going to revisit the numerous points of contestation. I’m hoping we’ve heard them all and maybe even participated in support for or against some of the contests.

I’m actually reflecting on thanks, and even more, on giving.

One of the five pillars upon which Islam stands is Zakah, the required “poor-due” or almsgiving. Like tithing, the 10% of earnings required in certain branches of Christianity, Zakah is enumerated. It is 2.5% of your unused wealth. Continue reading “THANKS-giving by amina wadud”

Men, Men, Everywhere by Kecia Ali

I recently published an essay in the British quarterly Critical Muslim. In it, I chose books on Muslim thought and reform by three prominent, well-regarded male scholars and I counted mentions of individual women in their indexes, their texts, or both. I didn’t have to count very high. I looked at how often they cited – or didn’t cite – books by women in their notes and bibliographies. And then I wailed and gnashed my teeth.

I didn’t really. But I wanted to.

Consider:

A study of modern Muslim intellectuals with a chapter on women, law, and society, that names only three women, none of them Muslim as far as I can tell, in an index which names 240 individuals?

Two books about Blackamerican Muslim thought and identity that do not mention Amina Wadud, the African-American Muslim thinker who has had the most significant global impact?

A book about Muslim reform that names only four Muslim women, all from Muhammad’s seventh-century community, and all but one from his household, in the main body of the work? Which segregates every book by a Muslim woman into one lengthy endnote, and says nothing about them or their authors anywhere else? Continue reading “Men, Men, Everywhere by Kecia Ali”

Vipassana: Intensive Meditation and Silent Retreat by amina wadud

It had been on my bucket list for some time. I thought it preferable to fulfill it while I was still in India since this is where the current movement started. How it ended up being completed during the last hectic and intense month of my year adventure in South Asia, I cannot say. Now I take up the next challenge to write about it in 1000 words or less…

I live alone. I don’t have radio, television, or such devices. I rarely talk on the phone – phobia. But I do go online every day. I’m a word person, so to give up words for 10 days: not to speak to anyone, not to read, not to write, and the only major daily activity being sitting in silent meditation, could be a challenge. Continue reading “Vipassana: Intensive Meditation and Silent Retreat by amina wadud”

Saudi Women Drive by amina wadud

Saudi Women Drive

So what’s the big deal in that? Thanks for asking.

I have been actively spreading the word, giving support and showing my enthusiasm for the Saudi women’s initiative to be permitted to drive their own cars. I celebrate with them the success of this latest initiate on October 26^th which was without government backlash. About 60 women took to the wheel. None were arrested, detained, fired from their jobs, harassed in the streets, or banished from their communities. We call that progress. Continue reading “Saudi Women Drive by amina wadud”

Hajar: of the desert by amina wadud

This week the Islamic pilgrimage or Hajj was completed. For those not gathering on the dusty plains of the desert in Arabia, we have the celebration of the Feast of the Sacrifice, commemorating the exchange of a lamb for the blood of the son of Abraham. This story is coated with patriarchy, and so it is with some fascination that Hajar (biblical Hagar) configures so significantly in the Islamic telling of it.

According to the same patriarchal twist, it is Abraham’s first son that is pivotal to the story’s continuation and the salvation of a people, yet to be born. That his first son, Ishmael, was born of a slave woman—some say of African origins—is not without extreme symbolism for African-American women, mostly Christian. That she is the mother of the tribes of Arabs is also not without some extreme genealogy along with that symbolism. But that she a single female head of household, whose sojourn in the desert still, has a central ritual re-enactment in the Hajj, that I turn to here. Continue reading “Hajar: of the desert by amina wadud”

Early Marriage and Early Islam by amina wadud

This week, in the state where I am living, Kerala, India:

“…nine prominent Muslim (sic) organizations have decided to approach the Supreme Court to exclude Muslim women from the law prescribing a minimum marital age. According to them, the present Prohibition of Child Marriage Act, 2006, which prescribes 18 as women’s legal age and 21 for men, violates Muslims’ fundamental right to practice their religion.”

Let me try to step back and formulate this in plain English.

India is a secular democratic nation-state, with a population of over 1 billion, a poverty rate at best estimated at 22%. It ranks as the 55^th worst country with regard to its maternal mortality rate with estimates as high as 450 per 100,000, and has an infant mortality rate of 44-55 per 1000. All the above factors have a direct corollary to child marriage: poverty, maternal mortality (think babies having babies), and thus, infant mortality is directly related to the national age of marriage.

Thus, one way to eradicate poverty, save mothers, and save infants is to prevent child marriage. It is no wonder preventing child marriage is a leading strategy for development organizations, human rights organizations and even the World Bank. In 2006, India passed the Child Marriage Act which states, “This legislation is armed with enabling provisions to prohibit child marriages, protect and provide relief to victims and enhance punishment for those who abet, promote and solemnize such marriages” (pg 1). Continue reading “Early Marriage and Early Islam by amina wadud”

“JC” by amina wadud

It’s been more than three decades, and certainly most of the influential time of my own theological/social justice career, since I was first introduced to Joseph Campbell (may he rest in “bliss”). He was still alive then, and my husband and I were like geeks following his PBS series on Myths and Metaphors, and reading all his books. We called him “JC”, an intentional play on initials and Jesus Christ. Both of us Muslims by choice, we embrace the Gospels as part of the divine legacy of revelation and accept that they come from the same Source as the Qur’an, the Torah, and other sacred texts, but we fall short of the divination of Jesus. The grey area of this is hard put for some Christians because “accepting Christ” means to accept the story of his birth, death and resurrection as formula bringing salvation.

We accept his extraordinary divine mission. Our sacred text not only recaps the virgin birth but also gives Jesus the gift of speech from the cradle where he confirms that his unmarried mother was not a loose woman, but rather the bringer of a Divine miracle, and as such, a miracle herself. Maybe at another time I will discuss how Mary configures so uniquely in my own feminist theology as read through the Qur’an, but, today I have in mind something about the transformation I went through with Joseph Campbell, starting with the virgin birth. Continue reading ““JC” by amina wadud”

When Some People Say “Religion” They Mean “My” Religion by amina wadud

I came to live in India after having already lived in other parts of Asia. Naively, I anticipated that the best of my Asian living experiences would be manifest in India and this centered on a dynamic encounter with diverse religious communities. I have thus been disappointed that the ideals of diversity have given way to exceptionalism and exclusivity.

For example, members of one religion are not encouraged to or interested in visiting the sacred spaces of other religions. In fact, in most cases, they are prohibited. To be sensitive to these constraints I do not visit any sacred place, no matter how much I have wanted, unless I am given permission as a Muslim. (Coincidentally, I am also prohibited as a woman from entering some of the sacred Muslim spaces!)

As a (retired) professor of religious studies I would like to think I can be a respectful observer. Nevertheless, I have little ability to internalize the notion of taboo. That is, I cannot understand that any space constructed by human beings would be deﬁled by the entry of another human being. My history of social and political advocacy against all forms of oppression just cannot ﬁnd a space to accept this notion that one person is irredeemably taboo. Continue reading “When Some People Say “Religion” They Mean “My” Religion by amina wadud”