FEMALE CONVERTS FINDING TRUE FEMINISM IN ISLAM
by Hasnet Lais
You’d think after watching BBC "Three’s Make me a Muslim" documentary,
being a female convert to Islam is so riddled with fault lines. Not
really. My recent interviews with Muslim converts offered a rare glimpse
into the lives of three women who would flatly reject such comparisons.
And they’re all buzzing with spiritual ecstasy, retelling what caused
them to halal-ify their wardrobes and Islamise dress codes.
“Being Muslim keeps me from wanting to impress others and gives me more
personal confidence,” says Chantelle, a 19-year-old convert from
Hackney. Today, she goes by the name Khadija, as a sign of respect for
Muhammad’s first wife and insists there’s more to British women trading
bare midriffs for abayas than what meets the eye.
“I wear the
hijab because I want to. Because it’s between me and Allah. It’s not a
fashion statement. Yes, I don’t go to clubs and don’t sleep around. It
gives me a comfort which I know so many of my friends would love to
have.”
One of those friends is Monique, who recalls how
Chantelle’s embracing Islam inspired a raw honesty and emotion in her,
helping her sense power and security in a head-to-toe cover-up: “I can’t
really say for certain that I became Muslim because I read the Qur’an.
But in a weird way, I felt Chantelle had more freedom than I did by
covering herself, instead of letting it all out like me. I thought to
myself ‘this was worth trying’. I can’t say I don’t miss our clubs and
parties but I’d rather live like this. We still do what other girls do
but it’s more toned down if you catch my drift. I haven’t looked back
since”.
Both girls were gearing up for a lifetime of prostration,
meditation and single-sex socialising and offered gleaning insights
into how their lives had taken a better turn from the moment they
embraced Islam. As we entered deep into our discussions, they also took a
moment to discuss the challenges which lay in their wake.
We
talked about everything from relationships, sex and family, and it was
clear the prospect of love and marriage lingered heavily over their
heads. Chantelle spoke candidly about some common anxieties with
converts: “It’s not just what friends and family are going to say.
‘Oh my God, why are you dressing like that etc.’ I don’t care about
being unpopular. But I do wonder whether I can have a boyfriend or what
my chances of marrying a native Muslim will be. I guess I’ll have to
stick to another convert”.
“Good Fortunes” of becoming Muslims
Similar emotions skittered across Monique’s face when I asked her the
same question. Despite being saddled with the weight of conversion,
theirs was a genuine humility and grace with which both accepted their
“good fortunes” of becoming Muslim and as Chantelle put it, “Women who
can at last be themselves and please themselves and not men”. Neither of
them was borne of any resignation and were at pains to convince others
that their new identities hadn’t sapped their career ambitions or
aspirations in the slightest.
Contrary to the sneering
stereotypes of some sections of the press, British women converting to
Islam do not enter the realm of the socially immobile and culturally
policed. Like those I interviewed, they’ve found a new lease of life as
tee-totalling Brits, dragging women from under the voyeuristic yoke. If
Chantelle and Monique are anything to go by, then sex doesn’t have to
sell for women to compete on the same terms.
Then there was
32-year-old mother of two, Jessica. Defiant, unrelenting and
unapologetic, she sat before me, niqaab-clad- a far cry from her early
adolescent years which were “adrenaline soaked” and “godless”.
“I’m just so thankful to Allah that I’ve left everything behind. The
hangovers, the guilt, the promiscuous sex. Basically, I feel completely
transformed and hate to be reminded of my past because that was me then,
and this is me now”.
“Welcome Distraction”
She claimed becoming Muslim was a “welcome distraction” from her
previous, unspiritual lifestyle and was relieved to be confronted by a
siege of female converts after she took her shahada (testimony of
faith). There was a lot of frenzy surrounding her conversion, not least
from her family: “My mum dismissed it as a case of teenage rebellion,”
says Jessica, who spends much of her spare time buying and selling the
intricate embroideries and jewel works of hijabs and jilbabs.
As
I probed a little deeper, I realised the reason why she, like some
other converts I’ve met in the past, came across as a lapsed Briton, cut
off from their indigenous culture: “No one from our politicians to our
newspapers are doing anything to fight the prejudice against women. Our
culture has become so sex obsessed, its making parenting tougher than I
thought”.
We spoke in length about the misogynistic gaffes
served up by the media, and the recent description by The Daily Mail of
an eight-year-old as a ‘leggy beauty’ unwittingly added fuel to her
fire. “You see that’s exactly my point. My decision to become Muslim was
a safety net from all this filth. My children are not going to grow up
without realising that although we’ve got a lot of things right in
Britain we’ve also messed a lot of things up, especially when it comes
to respecting our girls”.
For Jessica, grubby tabloids and the
casual sexualisation of British society helped explain the irresistible
appeal of puritanism for some British females. Accepting Islam was a way
of her silently reproaching the cultural failure to improve the lot of
women: “Why do you think so many women are becoming Muslim in this
country? Because the ‘wonderful’ freedoms in the west have only enslaved
us.”
As interesting as it was hearing these converts share
memories from the past and express delight at their leap of faith, I was
looking more forward to interviewing native Muslims who had grown up in
British Muslim families, to find out what they thought about their
convert sisters in faith.
Spiritual Advantage
Like me and Shanna Bukhari, the documentary’s presenter, Fatima felt
converts to Islam claimed an ambiguous spiritual advantage: “Seeing them
offer voluntary prayers and study the Qur’an led me to a lot of soul
searching and reflection. They’re much better at being Muslim than I
could ever have imagined” she says.
For practising Muslim Lutfa,
the no-nonsense hard-line exteriors of some converts bring a certain
noise and colour to the religion which she feels can only be good for
the faith. “If you look at Islam from a historical point of view, then
you will see that we really owe a lot of our genius to the energy of
converts”. I couldn’t agree any more.
Among my Muslim friends,
we’re often left feeling that converts have seized the initiative and
run with it and to keep apace, we’ve got to step our God-game up so to
speak. Lutfa also agrees that women converts offer Muslims a refreshing
change of pace “Convert sisters are definitely setting a standard for
others to follow”.
Whatever we may think of these converts, their
decision to become Muslim may be a powerful indictment of some women’s
lives in the west. That’s the impression they all left me, especially
Jessica who would repeatedly ask whether feminism had delivered on its
promise. So amidst all the everyday sexism and cultural creepiness
hounding British women, is Islam somehow squaring their circle?
Are burkas, niqaabs and hijaabs breathing soul in the lives of girls
which desperately lack a higher calling, helping them reclaiming the
watchwords of feminism? Does the conversion to Islam among British women
bode healthily for Britain’s future? For Chantelle, Monique and
Jessica, the answer to these questions is a resolute yes.
(HSH)