Earth Toned Islam

By Nakia Jackson

Those of us that espouse progressive views are sometimes in a rather tense relationship with those who are more conservative. The differences of perspectives can grow into seemingly insurmountable obstacles to establishing rapport. I’ve seen two views of this difference. The first view is that these differences are insurmountable, and those of unlike views should not expect to find common ground. The second is that these differences are insignificant, and that common ground is plentiful for those who seek it. The first view, in my opinion, is intellectually and emotionally lazy. It permits one to become isolated from other Muslims when we should be seeking to foster positive relations with all those interested in establishing a world where peace, prosperity, and justice prevail. Those who espouse the second view sometimes ignore the fact that common ground must be bilaterally acceptable. It is not enough to consider an opinion personally acceptable, and declare it common ground.

It is these extremes that I’ve been grappling with, struggling for balance and connection with Muslims across the ideological spectrum, while maintaining the integrity of my own beliefs. This is why I balked at going to a meeting entitled " Prioritizing Concerns for Bostonian Muslim Women". I can barely prioritize for myself, let alone for thousands of women whose lives I can't begin to imagine.

The emails describing the format and agenda failed to account for pitfalls of the purely democratic structure that was laid out - I feared it would give rise to a group where the mainstream voices drowned out the concerns of minorities. Add that to the fact that I love meetings about as much as I love root canals, and it should be no surprise that I concluded that I should stay home. I tried to explain this to the organizers. They seemed to believe that the differences among Boston's Muslim population would dissolve in a sororal glow.

I have to give them credit for acting to empower Muslim women. Nonetheless, I skipped the first meeting, feeling my presence unneeded. After dealing with the disappointment of the organizers, I re-examined my presumptions. I read the minutes of the meeting I skipped. If it were like a meeting that I wanted to attend, the concerns mentioned would be a mix of interests tame and bold, dealing with matters sacred, esoteric, and mundane. This list, I dreamed, would reflect the diversity of Muslim women's views. I was expecting an ideological rainbow.

I got a list reflecting an earth-toned Islam, content with Victorian -era paradigms of authority, community development, and femininity. It completely lacked electric radical hues, the stark black and white of the fundamentalists, or even the subtle tints of fringe groups. The listed concerns reflected a group unwilling to rock the boat, circumvent existing power structures, or question basic assumptions about the infallibility of classical fiqh. With such a blandly uniform group, I was not looking forward to attending the second meeting, but I figured I'd go to challenge everyone’s perceptions.

I'd decided that I'd go as an observer, so that if I didn't find anything that appealed to me, I'd have an excuse not to join in. I was committed to refraining from trying to shape the discussion or actions, except to try to clarify my view of the group's composition and goals. I decided to question the assumptions of the group, to ask if they were looking for systemic or merely representational change. I brought up the question of working almost exclusively with existing institutions, trying to alter them to fit a mythical ideal, instead of developing models for existing institutions to follow.

I asked if they were challenging merely the secular aspects of male hegemony, or if they were hoping to challenge the theology that supports injustice. The answers I got confirmed my previous perceptions. The group felt that their work would lack relevance unless they could represent the interests of a majority of Bostonian Muslim women, that their best role was as a weathervane for the prevailing winds rather than to work to change the direction of the wind itself.

I’m glad these women are becoming more aware and active, but it was distressing to see them where I was about two years ago, as I recalled the suffocating weight of attempting to conform . As the meeting wore on, the room seemed to shrink, yet the voices of the women seemed to be echoing from afar. I listened to women attempt to tame sexism in Muslim communities, while not having defeated it within themselves. As I listened to women uphold the paradigm of Islam as a tradition of slightly mitigated patriarchy, the pain of my years of doing the same was revisited, and I couldn’t wait to leave.

The meeting was nearly over when I got a call from a friend who had spotted a huge mistake with a website, and needed me to find someone to help. I rang the webmaster, got the problem solved, and was left with the larger problem of trying to find a way to work with women whose values differed so greatly from mine. We agreed that the exclusion of women and their views from public spaces, services, and leadership roles in the Muslim community was a problem, and that something needed to be done to end it. The common ground ended there.

The organizers and I have talked about the meetings, and they seem convinced that I have a role in that group. If there is one, I don’t see it. I have seen this: that it is always necessary to explore shades of Islam that may lay outside our personal palette, if we are to maintain perspective and vibrancy in our beliefs. I probably won’t be able to work with them, but I do laud their efforts, and will try to keep up with their activities, as I work on a more radical level. Seeking to further ties with those who may differ from us can only make us wiser, and reminds us that the only absolute truth rests with Allah.

Nakia Jackson is a musician and budding young troublemaker living in the Boston area. She enjoys alte musik, belly dancing, and scaring men.