What is the Purpose of Suffering?

I haven’t blogged in a long time but was asked a question and thought people might benefit from the answer. The question was:

“What is the purpose of suffering?”

And this is my response:

Hey there Amal,

Thanks so much for your question and sorry about the delay. I’m going to assume you’re asking me to answer from what I know of the Islamic perspective about the purpose of suffering and will answer as such. I first need to address the underlying assumptions which I’m assuming are behind such a question.

We live in a society in which we try to live happy lives. In our modern society, and certainly in the UK/US, the happy life is the good life. Not only this, but there is a form of happiness that’s also being pushed upon us: it’s often about entertaining ourselves, having a good time with friends, involving some kind of marketed consumer product and perhaps a holiday package. In this understanding of life, the idea of suffering is very bad. It goes against the purpose of life, which is to be happy and have fun/good times, etc. Of course, I’m kind of painting a caricature of how things are here, but essentially this is the case. Popular media, TV, social media, advertising etc. constantly bombard us with these ideas. Importantly, this modern perspective of life assumes no existence of God, no eternal afterlife, and no human soul. Without these three existential details, it is very hard to argue or justify a case for suffering. It is bleak and morbid within such a secular paradigm that promotes ego-based happiness.

Now let’s move that aside, and consider how we understand suffering within the Islamic perspective. I don’t know exactly what you are searching for, but I’ll make my answer quite broad in hope that it might catch something that resonates with you. In Islam, the primary purpose of life is not to be happy; rather, the purpose of life is to have an intimate Relationship with Allah. This means that anyone, regardless if they are happy or not, is free to engage in that Relationship if they choose to do so. The interesting thing about this is that those who are undergoing suffering, might be quicker to call on Allah than those who are not. So instantly, suffering in Islam, actually has an advantageous quality. This is not to say that Allah wants everyone to suffer – of course not. But sometimes, just like you never know who your true friends are unless you are in a time of need, being tested in discomfort is when we really get a chance to demonstrate our sincerity and genuine faith in God.

There are so many examples of people coming to the Prophet (pbuh), suffering some kind of hardship, whether struggles within themselves, problems with family, to physical illnesses, and the prophetic response always had the same core message: that Allah will be pleased with you and reward you and bless you with paradise for following the religion as much as you can, *inspite* of your pain and discomfort.

A very important point is that suffering or going through any discomfort or difficulty in life is the only way in which we can exercise one of the most important virtues, which is sabr (patience, endurance, stamina, forbearance). Not only does this trait develop us as human beings, but it also demonstrates to Allah that we submit to His will. I’m reminded of the story in which a man was going through difficulty and called out to Allah, and Allah delayed in responding to him, so the man then complained to Allah. Allah finally replied to him saying, “oh my servant, how can I have Mercy on you, by taking you away from that which brings you Mercy?” The issue here was that while this person was exercising patience in hard times and calling to Allah, that was the blessed state. In Islam, it’s not necessarily about trying to push the negative situation away from yourself, it’s about the quality of your conduct while you are in it. Someone might be going through the worst heartache or life difficulty, but if they are doing it while holding on to their good character as best they can, and keeping communication with Allah, they are absolute winners in the sight of Allah.

Finally, there is another purpose of suffering/discomfort which the believer might face: Sometimes our moods are a reflection of our spiritual states. Whenever something bad happens to us, it might just be a nudge for us to check something about our life that might be out of place. I have personally seen this in my life many times over. When things aren’t going well, I think, ‘maybe there is something that I’m doing that I shouldn’t be doing; or maybe there’s something that I should be doing that I’m not doing.’ It might have no obvious link to the problem showing up in your life, but peculiarly enough, once you rectify the spiritually-relevant practice/issue in your life, the problem seems to go away. Certain moments of difficulty and discomfort are a way for Allah to steer us back on course when we’re walking off the straight path. If He didn’t give us these nudges, we would go further, further astray. So even that is a great Mercy from Him. In other matters where the pain or discomfort is not linked to something we’re doing or not doing, the above would apply.

Ultimately then, what is the purpose of suffering? Suffering might be a divine nudge from Allah as a means for us to check ourselves. It is a necessary way for us to draw closer to God and to exercise the highest of virtues, which is patience. Going through such trying circumstances with increased success, reveals our sincerity and fulfils our highest purpose, which is to have an intimate relationship with Allah.

Hope that helps,

God bless

The Gift of Ramadan

Ramadan is a gift. Not only because of the most obvious and important sense of increased reward and multiplied blessings, but also for its ability to re-structure our environmental patterns. Negative habits within us usually feed off our established sense of routine, not stand alone impulses – since impulses are almost always based on our environment. The misunderstanding leads to a conceptual underestimating of the workings of the shaytan, who is merely and mistakenly seen as one who only ‘whispers’, rather than one who is hell-bent on the more subtle task of manipulating our routinely environment, to institutionalise within us negative habits and mental states that occur automatically. If the ball is already rolling downhill, there is no need to apply another push. In other words, many of us are running on our own habitualised momentum of self-limitation, or worse, self-destruction, and not much further effort from a malicious, external source is needed. This would explain why it is natural to carry some of our negative impulses into Ramadan, despite the shayateen allegedly being chained.

Herein lies the genius of Ramadan for those who seize the opportunity. The holy month, if followed properly with all its recommended requirements, breaks normative patterns and demands personal improvement. A re-structuring of our daily environment is combined with a dramatic incentive to do good, making the blessed month a unique opportunity to strive, more easily, for personal excellence. Our eating and sleeping patterns are altered by the times of iftar and suhour, re-orienting the flow of our day. Aside from increased self-restraint and patience cultivated from a lack of bodily consumption, not eating and drinking also causes a physiological change which can break (or make it easier to break) psychological patterns. Nights of Ramadan, ideally spent performing taraweeh/night prayers, or spent with the Qur’an, are also routine-changes for the vast majority of us, bending our nightly patterns towards something inherently soul-disciplining. I’ve often marvelled at how clever the faith is to practically oblige all its followers to recite or hear the entirety of the Qur’an, systematically, every year; not only a powerful way to make a religious faith and revelation survive across centuries, but to repeatedly pull its believers back to its complete, core message. These environmental changes make us more susceptible to spiritual transformation, particularly in a month so sacredly rich. Furthermore, emphasis on better character invites a moral cleanse in the knowledge that the fast is compromised by the one who still gossips, backbites, lies, or gives into anger. Multiplied good deeds are an incentive to give more in smiles, love, generosity, charity, and service to others, while multiplied bad deeds are a stern reminder to avoid engaging in what really works against your soul this month. And of course, any intentional sexual release, whether alone or with a partner categorically breaks the fast, building further self-restraint and patience. All such components of the month open opportunities to collapse old negative habits and patterns in replace of better ones.

That Ramadan lasts for around 30 days adds to its positive value. A month is a good amount of time to organise, expel and instil certain patterns of behaviour. In this way, it can be used as a periodical ‘springboard’ to leap you into the person you want to be. However, it would be most effective to psychologically prepare for the month prior, and to continue its positive momentum once it has passed. Since old environmental structures of life often immediately resume after Ramadan, it is easy to instantly fall back into old habits, even if one had been – for the most part – successful in giving them up for the month. Therefore, a continuation of some of the daily and nightly practices of Ramadan become vital, particularly after the crescent moon has waned. Similarly, a sudden jump into Ramadan with no psychological or physiological preparation might cause the first portion of the month to feel uncomfortable and somewhat daunting. This, in my opinion, might be a reason why voluntary fasting is particularly encouraged in the preceding and consecutive months of Ramadan. Fasting in Sha’ban and Shawwal, eases us into and out of the pinnacle of blessed months, to help the graduation and maintaining of optimal character and excellence.

So if you’re someone who is keen on bettering the self, do not waste this paramount opportunity. The birth-month of the Qur’an comes once a year, and for many of us, will be the only time we get to work on ourselves so effectively. Finally, regarding the fast, be wary of what you consume with your eyes and your ears, not just your mouth. For some of these things are respective equivalents of poison to the stomach; subtler, but no less hazardously intrusive. May the sight of grateful believers and the speech of God fill your eyes and ears this month. God bless.

Getting Over An Emotional Obsession: An Email

OK so, it’s taken me a real long time to post this for a couple of reasons. The main reason being that I wanted to make sure that it worked. To give a brief outline, I got an email from someone I didn’t know explaining that she had this year-long uncontrollable love for a guy and wanted my advice to make her feelings go away (tall order, no?) In her case, she was a Muslim, in love with a non-Muslim, BUT faith really isn’t an issue here. The advice I gave (though at times directed specifically to her circumstances) is for ANYONE. It doesn’t matter if you’re Muslim/atheist/spiritualist, whatever, nor does it matter what the other person is; the advice is psychological, and concerns thinking patterns. If you’re human, it should work (love-struck dog groans and turns away from computer screen). So fellas can use this too – if a guy had emailed me, the advice would have been the same.

I just have one major thing to mention before we go into the emails. If you are someone who has an uncontrollable love or obsession for someone and no longer want this feeling, in order for the advice here to be effective, you need to WANT to get better and you need to want it BAD. If you’re just reading this out of interest, pass it on to someone else who is sick to their stomach from their ordeal. The girl who messaged me clearly wanted it bad (heck she emailed a stranger). And that’s a major reason why this worked for her. I do have her permission, and have obviously censored the email for the sake of anonymity. Where my advice is specific to her circumstances, just substitute them with your own.

Email from young woman:

“Salaam aleikum,

I have read your tweets and your columns.
I have the following matter.
I have been struggling for a while with this.

I’m a young woman who lives in X. I’m in love with a non-Muslim man and I don’t want to pursue with this because I know its haram. He actually doesn’t have a faith but he is into spiritualism like sufis.

I pray everyday to Allah to release me from this passion and feelings for him but they wont go away. I’ve tried not to contact him but my heart ends up bluffing and I call or text him.

He lives in X so I don’t see him that often. But I love him when I don’t want to, because I know in my life I can never have the halal life I want for myself and my family. As a practicing Muslim that’s my problem but my heart doesn’t want to acknowledge this.

This has been going on for a year and I don’t know who to tell this because I don’t want my surroundings to know…

If you could share some advice I would be grateful.”

Philo_Human REPLY:

“Salam X,

I want you to take these words seriously because I know about these situations and have had plenty of experience. What I will say might sound harsh, but I sympathize with you a lot.

In the same way the body falls sick, the heart and mind can become sick too. You have a disease of the heart. Make no mistake about this. It is a habitualized feeling that you have constructed in your head. There is nothing “special” about this individual or your relationship to him. You may suffer from some kind of addiction to him, and it is like any other addiction – be it to sugar, or alcohol, or sex, or whatever. Know this. It could have been anyone. That it IS him is purely due to the specific circumstances that have led you to this outcome: right place, right time, right background, right words, and hey presto – you’re in “love”. But you’re not in love in any positive way because clearly this situation is bringing you great difficulty.

Know this: You create further “love” in your heart the more you invest in him. By “investing” I mean putting time, effort or money into him. This includes sending him a text, calling, checking his online profile (if he has one) etc. By doing these things, you FUEL the attachment, and will never get over it. You must cut off contact entirely – not even a glance to a photograph of him.

You need to make sure other things in your life are in order: Your health (eating well and exercising), your other relationships (family and friends), your job, your goals and ambitions (what are you trying to achieve in life; who do you want to be?). Often people aren’t able to move on from the past because they don’t have a great enough future to aspire towards. I obviously don’t know your situation, but this is all very important.

Most crucially, you need to RE-CONDITION your mind to change what he means to you. This is what it’s all about. You have falsely associated certain positive meanings to him: “happiness” “love” “completion” whatever, you need to radically change this. I want you to write down a list of new associations to him: “He’s bad for my faith”, “He takes me away from God”, “He will destroy my state in the akhira”, “He compromises my job ambitions”, “He makes my life miserable”, “He wastes my time and energy” “He brings out the worst in me” etc. Add your own, make them general and specific – make them emotional; and make them MEANINGFUL TO YOU. Feel the effects, contemplate on each one. I want you to do this EVERYDAY. Preferably before you sleep and when you wake up, as the defenses to the subconscious are weakest at these points.

In addition, I want you to remove the assumptions you have about him, as you are currently filled with them and they are a huge cause of your distress. You may have hoped that he will somehow come round, embrace Islam and marry you. Or you might think that he’s truly perfect for you. These are all likely fantasies and have no basis in reality. I want you now to make a list of questions that undermine and destroy these assumptions. Make them in the form of QUESTIONS. So for example, ask yourself something like: “Will he get married to someone before I get married, or after I get married?” (here the assumption is that you will both marry other people) or “Why waste precious time, energy and thought on someone you don’t ever want to see or hear from again?” or “How grateful will I be when God blesses me with someone who I am so much happier with?” (the assumption here again is that you are not going to be with him). It’s all about undercutting your assumptions. Make some more up of your own and ADD THESE to the list of associations I mention in the previous paragraph. Ask yourself these questions EVERYDAY. Make sure you FEEL the effects of asking these questions, because the subconscious is shifted more strongly when there is an emotional charge to it.

Try not to talk about being depressed over him to friends or family as this is also a form of investment and will fuel the attachment. If you must talk about it, make sure it’s from a position that empowers you.

In general, pray to Allah and repent. Repent until you feel like crying for all faults major and minor, hidden and open. Do this EVERYDAY or as often as you can. Know that He loves you and will not put you through anything without it strengthening you in some way. In-sha’Allah, you will be able to help someone with the same difficulty in the future, as it is a common problem among people.”

Now thankfully, she did as I said and emails that followed were very positive on her part. I won’t paste them all in full here because I want the focus to be on the method, but let’s just say it worked better than I imagined. Within a few days she was seeing dramatic changes, and by two weeks she displayed a huge turn around. Here is a part of one of her later emails (2 weeks later):

“I’m in a state now I’ve never experienced before. I’m enjoying my life again, I have a wonderful time with my family and most of all I’ve found peace in my mind and connected stronger with my Faith!

I’m no longer desperate in this kind of love. He’s been trying to reach out to me different times but I can handle it very well. He called me once because it was his bday. I clearly showed no interest and I told him that I have no intention in going further in such kind of relationship. He asked to skype etc but I refused. I said goodbye and that was it. I cried after but those were these of closure and joy at one side.

I can truthfully say to myself that I can look back at his pictures/memories without feeling any emotions (love kind)…

There are times where I have a moment because something I see or hear makes me remind of him. But then I just laugh it away and think, I was blind to not see the signs but hamdellah on the other way it brought me closer to my truth and to Allah and my family.”

But girls and guys, before you start sorting your lives out, I just want to add a few points:

When you do this just like I said, you may start feeling better to the extent that you feel you don’t need to carry on doing the daily re-conditioning. This is a mistake. You must keep going. The mind is like a rubber band; if you stop pulling it in one direction, it will slowly relapse back into its old thinking patterns. You need to create a new default. The girl had emailed me a few weeks later saying she had had some set backs due to “some brief encounters with him”. When I spoke with her much later (when everything was good again), I asked her if she had stopped doing what I told her during that time and she said yes. So do not stop. Feel great, but just keep doing it. Do it for months if you have to. And later you can start doing it less. I can’t stress this enough. Do not think, “OK I’m fine now, enough conditioning,” especially not for the first few weeks.

This leads me on to another point, which is that you should feel free to change and add to the list of new associations or questions according to how you feel. In the course of reframing the way you think about this individual, you might realize more reasons why this person isn’t good for you, or why you need to stop thinking about them. Add them to the list. Or, a new negative thought might arise which means you need to ask yourself a new question to undercut and uproot it. The mind can be nasty like that – you get over one negative thought and then it’s like, “oh yeah…? well, remember THIS!!” And you’re like “Noooooo!! I just remembered some sentimental detail which has made me mushy again!!” (or whatever).

And this leads me to a final point, which is: expect triggers to spark off emotional reactions now and then. Don’t worry, they’re totally natural and not a set back. They’re just associations. It could happen when you see the road he or she lives on, a park bench you sat on together, a gift they gave you, etc. This is normal, and eventually these strong emotional associations will fade away the more you just keep doing everything I mention in the email. And don’t skimp on the healthy eating and exercise – that’s all important too! (trust me, everything in that email is thought out with rifle-scope precision).

Please bear in mind guys, I’m not an agony aunt. I might even take this down later because this isn’t really my “field”. I just want to give you the tools to help yourself. I’ve now given you more than I gave to the young woman who got better just from that email. If you do everything there, you should notice big changes. Feel free to comment but pardon me if I can’t be so responsive because I will not have a life if I addressed everyone’s relationship issues individually. But it would be nice to hear how you are doing.

I really wish you all the best and am genuinely excited, because I know you can be happy again.

Peace be with you.

And with Allah is all success.

Time: An Over-Rated Healer

It’s commonly perceived that ‘time is a great healer’ of emotional pain. If we take this claim at face value, it would imply that the mere extension of sequenced events carries with it some intrinsic medicinal or healing value, which appropriates itself to remedy feelings of emotional pain. If time truly was a great healer, the human being would indeed exist in a state of great fortune. By definition of our space and time-bound existence, no human being would ever be outside the healing process so long as they were alive. We would all, by default, be in a state of constant emotional recovery.

Obviously, this is not true. Many people still deal with emotional pain or traumatic experiences from years in the past, which negatively impact upon their lives in the present. Sometimes a situation could appear to get better over time, but in reality, the pain has merely taken a different form. Tears and anguish might characterise a broken heart in the relatively short-term period, only to be followed by bitter resentment and anger in the long term. In such cases, the negative attitude is then often projected onto other individuals who have nothing to do with the experience, spreading the pain further.

Sometimes emotional pain worsens with time. The mere realisation that a certain problem has relentlessly continued to trouble an individual for so long can in fact accentuate the feeling of its burden. In other instances, the later discovery of how a personal problem affects other parts of one’s life – in a way previously unknown to the individual – can progressively complicate the emotional disorder, increasing its intensity, and further one’s loss of self esteem. In such examples, the individual doesn’t necessarily do anything self-harming to feel worse, yet one’s emotional state can quite easily deteriorate as time passes.

The confusion of the myth that time heals may lie in its false analogy with the healing experience of physical pain. Broken bones, cuts and bruises heal in time. The body possesses biochemical properties, which temporarily ‘address’ injuries immediately after they occur. Here one doesn’t need to do much. Chemical signals send the correct cells to perform their own consecutive tasks best suited to the problem. In the case of a cut, platelet cells instantly rush in to cause congealing at the opening to prevent bleeding, while white blood cells follow to kill any unwanted bacteria from the intruding instrument. After the area is cleared, other cells arrive to form new skin beneath the now dried congealed area (scab), and the area is well on its way to full recovery. What’s important here is that although the healing process occurs in temporal stages, time itself is actually not a cause of healing. In fact, time is no more of a cause to physical recovery than it is a cause to the building of a house, or to the winning of a tennis match. The causes are respectively, the biochemical processes and the skilled physical and mental activities involved in these occasions. Time, on the other hand, is impotent, having no causal or healing properties whatsoever.

So why is this now hopefully obvious fact important? Because the general assumption that ‘time heals’ makes people do nothing about their emotional pains. It validates the idea that prolonged anxiety or depression will eventually just go away. Even the language of ‘moving on’ implies that some kind of temporal ‘passing’ is required to get over something. This is simply not true.

Our ability to overcome an emotionally painful situation has little to do with time and much more to do with changing the way we think about the experience. This is the ‘healing process’ of the mind. Like the processes involved in physical healing, it’s active, characterised by various methods that address one’s thinking patterns. We don’t have the equivalent of automated cells to rush in at the scene of a problem and patch things up; hence, emotional healing is conscious, and comes down to our cognitive choices. In particular, it concerns how we interpret what an incident or circumstance means to us. It’s about keeping grounded in reality and not lost in baseless negative assumptions. Deeply seeking answers to questions such as: what can be learnt from this experience; what good can come from this, and thereafter, letting answers to those questions become the ultimate meaning of the situation by consistent review and repetition, can alter, quite profoundly, the way one feels. How you talk about the issue to yourself and to others, and the extent to which you interrogate the assumptions on which this speech is based, can also effectively cause your trail of thoughts and therefore your emotions, to break out of the limiting, negative, cognitive frame in which they are trapped. (Good friends, family members or psychiatrists can also help with this process.)

Such examples are just some of the ways in which one can begin to re-evaluate and re-organise one’s thoughts regarding a situation. Negative thoughts bouncing within falsely constructed frames do not just naturally break out after some time. However, it is possible that this may happen accidentally. That is, eventually, something may happen, or something might be learnt that naturally causes an empowering shift in one’s understanding of the situation, changing the way one feels. But there is no guarantee here. It could take years for a person to break out of a negative thought pattern in this way, and even still – given the accidental nature of this solution – it doesn’t equip the individual with the correct mental tools to prevent the same feelings or heartache from being experienced again and again in the future.

So, no. Time is not a healer. No one should leave his or her feelings to the mercy of time. Rather, we should take active control over our emotions by looking into the cognitive methods that re-interpret what our emotional experiences mean to us. The body may have its rescue functions to heal its pain, but when it comes to the mind, we really need to get to work ourselves. With enough training and conditioning, such healing can eventually occur naturally.

Values of Veiling – Part 2: Meaning of the Veil

Meaning of the Veil

The modern, western construction of the veil as a symbol of oppression is made even more acute in its particularity, when we take into account meanings of the veil outside the modern, western world, or devoid of any specific cultural association. In its essential sense, veiling is the act of covering; the act of concealing something precious or sacred, usually from the eyes or minds of others. Veiling, therefore, has an inherent sense of mystery attached to it, which complements the spiritually inclined themes to which it is often attached. Historically, veiling has also been associated with class and respect. An Assyrian legal text estimated at around 1450-1250 BC states that veiling was compulsory for noble women, but not for servants, except when accompanying other noble women. From the same text, slave girls were forbidden to veil, and “hierodules” (sacred prostitutes) could only veil after marriage. In this context, the veil not only marked the upper classes, but signalled which women were under the protection of a man through marriage and therefore, not sexually available (Ahmed 1992: 15). The Assyrian tradition thus demonstrates a historical example in which veiling was linked to social stratification with dignifying value. Implied status was raised by the veil, not demeaned. Even in modern examples of veiling outside religion  – whether in the form of veiling one’s car with a physical sheet, or in the drawing of house curtains – the concealing is not, by default, linked to any sense of oppression or subordination, but rather, to the intent of protection from the prying eyes of those who may be drawn to what should not concern them. A parallel can be made with the intent of pre-Islamic handsome Arab men, who would veil to protect themselves from the harms of envy, or women’s clothing in classical Greek society (550-323 BC), which served the function of concealing them from the eyes of strange men. In these instances, the common theme is that veiling is about the visual protection of what can be envied or desired, not about segregation or oppression. 

Fadwa El Guindi (1999) comes to the understanding that the veil, far from being ‘indiscriminate, monolithic, and ambiguous’ can be appropriated to different cultural contexts to have different meanings from modesty and isolation to identity and political resistance. Similarly, Faegheh Shirazi (2001) points out that interpretations and representations of the veil across various cultures and contexts shows that its symbolic significance is constantly defined and redefined. This social constructionist approach to the veil gives the impression that its meaning is malleable according to whatever purpose is required: ‘the veil has been exploited by advertisers of Western products in the United States and in Saudi Arabia, by publishers of Western erotica, by filmmakers in the East and West, by Iranian politicians and clergy, and by militaries and militias in countries such as the United Arab Emirates, Iran, and Iraq’. To elaborate one example, Shirazi argues that many popular Bollywood films use the veil and the fantasy of hidden beauty to draw the male gaze by titillating the audience. There is a basic assumption that the female form has more power to arouse its viewer when it is veiled than naked. Both imagery and song lyrics are used to attract sensual interest to a veiled heroine who is beseeched by an eager hero desiring to see her unveiled. In such contexts, the veil is used as a means of sexual empowerment for the heroine, and as a tool for creating sexual tension in general (Shirazi 2001). This is in contrast with the veil in Iranian cinema, which, under the rules of state censorship following the Islamic revolution, prohibited the sight of uncovered female bodies in public and on screen. The veil is thus used to divert the male gaze away from sexualizing female characters. Both representations sit firmly within a spectrum of sexuality; one embellishing it, and the other obscuring it. For Homa Hoodfar (1992), the ability for the veil’s meaning to be changed and re-defined is in no way symmetrical between the East and West. She argues instead that the meaning of the veil in the West has been ‘static and unchanging’ while in Muslim cultures, the significance and social functions of the veil have varied tremendously, especially during times of rapid social change. She explains how some women in Iran have even used the veil to undermine certain men in their presence: while in dispute with a male non-relative, a Muslim woman might drop her veil to show that she doesn’t perceive him as a real man.

These expressions and functions of the veil challenge the blanket ‘symbol of oppression’ narrative that is commonplace in the UK and Europe, demonstrating the narrowness of the western discourse, and by implication, reflect the prevalence of the structures that keep such a discourse in place.

The Meaning of the Veil in Arab/Islamic Space and Culture

In considering such discourses surrounding the veil, it is important to emphasise the paradigm to which the Muslim veil is predominantly attached. In this vein, El Guindi allows the Islamic tradition to play an important part in dictating the meaning of the veil. In doing so, she stresses the “multiple dimensions”, that is, the different layers of meaning that can be attached to religious customs, seeing Muslims as living rhythmic lives, which alternate between the sacred and the secular. She combines these ideas with philosophical and sociological assumptions about the private and the public realm, highlighting how privacy in Arab and Islamic contexts differs from the secular, western context. Where privacy is usually understood as the right to not be intruded upon in the modern secular world, Islamic culture, for El Guindi, harbours an added theological dynamic whereby an individual or collective may be in some spiritual activity in communication with God, or be going about some relational (often gendered) activity with God in mind. From the women-exclusive private residential quarters of the harem typical to pre-modern Islamic Caliph residences, to the all-female dhikr circles of Sufi orders, the notion of gendered privacy has been a social fact of Muslim history: 

Arab privacy does not connote the “personal” or the “secret” or the “individuated space.” It concerns two core spheres – women and the family. For both, privacy is sacred and carefully guarded. For women it is both a right and an exclusive privilege, and is reflected in dress, space, architecture, and proxemic behavior. 

To see and not be seen: mashrabiyya in Islamic architecture

 

El Guindi also makes a comparison of the Muslim face-veil to “mashrabiyya” (lattice woodwork screens and windows) in urban Arab architecture, which serves to guard the family’s right to privacy. The creative sophistication of the wooden architecture permits the insider to see what is public, but denies the outsider visual access to what is private.  This connotes a right to see and not be seen, rather than the sense of seclusion or social invisibility. But whereas the mashrabiyya is stationary, the veil is mobile and able to carry a woman’s privacy and sanctity into public spaces. Similarly, Bullock (2007) has argued that the hijab is not intended to stifle women, nor smother their femininity or sexuality, ‘rather, it regulates where and for whom one’s femininity and sexuality will be displayed and deployed’.

The dichotomy of public and private has been argued to be grounded in western European formations of society, and should not be imposed upon the Middle East. For El Guindi, Arab culture ‘is nuanced and dynamic, so much as to accommodate privacy in public’. The western polarity between public and private is too rigid and static to accommodate Arab and Islamic senses of space, which are characterised by a daily interweaving of the sacred and the mundane. She cites the example of the Muslim prayer, which can be performed in any location, instantly rendering sacred an otherwise ordinary space. Sacred space switches freely between the public and the private, meaning the appearance of a woman in niqab on the street is a normal sight, symbolic of this rhythmic and sacredly entwined way of structuring society.  

Veiled Muslim woman in public

Further references to veiling are also found within Islamic literature, detached from subordination or even gender. The ‘ultimate veil’, draped over the House of God in Mecca (the Ka’ba) is a recurrent theme in classical Islamic literature, as is God’s Veil over Himself, which would otherwise burn the entirety of existence (hadith, Ibn Majah). Here, the veil is ascribed to the Divine, indicating the sublime and formidable power maintained within; while over the House of God, the veil is almost all one sees of it, serving as the ultimate visual manifestation that veiling signifies precious and sacred value. Amongst Muslims themselves, religious and spiritual reasons for wearing the face-veil or hijab – fundamentally, for the sake of a relationship with God – are generally overlooked in the media, yet clearly present in the answers of Muslim women in explaining their choice to wear it.

Veiling the House of God

In a ‘progressive’, materialist and secular society, ‘spiritual’ value attached to the veil is misplaced within the dominant culture. This aspect doubles the ‘absurdity’ of the veil insofar as it is both a covering – in a society that likes to reveal, and in that it has a spiritual notion in a culture where metaphysics does not inform public discourse. There is little wonder, then, why the veil’s sacred meaning is far removed from general non-Muslim consciousness and the mainstream media. Not being looked at or judged by commercial standards of beauty is another common reason offered by Muslim women as to why they feel more comfortable in hijab or niqab. This issue, in particular, concerns the tradition of the ‘male gaze’.

In the third and final part, I will consider the male/European gaze, and how this is deeply linked to modern western attitudes towards the Muslim veil. I will also highlight the relevance of a lost moral virtue: the ‘ethics of looking’ within the Muslim tradition, which is another necessary competent to understanding the place of the veil in public life.

Values of Veiling – Part 1: Changing Discourse

The following 3 parts constitute what are basically philosophical and socio-politcal notions and reflections surrounding the Muslim face veil, in response to its western media focus in recent years. The aim of this, unlike some of my other work, is less about building an argument, but more, to simply explore certain issues which play into, but are hardly ever mentioned, within the mainstream media regarding the face veil. This piece of writing acted an an introductory section to a core chapter within my PhD thesis, after which, I went on to analyse and discuss what the public perception of the veil was/is in the UK, through a study of hundreds of online comments on particular news sites. I enjoyed researching and writing this section and hope that you might enjoy reading it. I would really appreciate any comments you have. Part 1 introduces the subject of the Muslim veil within the general fascination of western writers regarding ‘women in Islam’, and gives insight into how such negative discourses/debates are (quite arbitrarily) constructed in society.

Part 1.

News reports in the British (and non-British) media are scattered with articles concerning Muslim women and the face-veil (niqab or burqa) in particular. In a corpus study of 200,000 articles from the British Press from 1998-2009, the term ‘Muslim women’ was found almost twice as frequently as the term ‘Muslim men’, and when it was used, it was most often in context of whether or not they should wear the veil (Baker et al. 2013). News items found by a Google Alert notification service with terms “burqa” “burka”, “veil” and “niqab “ from November 2014 to July 2016 found repeated points of coverage usually themed around the veil being a social problem and nuisance; for example, reporting criminal activity such as assault or theft being carried out by people wearing the niqab. Also common has been the reporting of cases in which the niqab is worn by a female court attendant or by teachers in schools, supposedly hindering their ability to carry out their respective roles. Such cases are used to demonstrate how the face-veil simply does not fit into modern secular society. Less common but also recurring are reports of women in niqab being attacked by perpetrators of anti-Muslim hate, as well as experiences of women wearing the niqab including non-Muslim women who wear the veil as a trial temporarily. The most common UK coverage regarding the niqab, however, centres around the debate as to whether or not it should be banned due to its cultural misplacement, as well as its alleged status as both a symbol of oppression and security risk.

In what follows I will be considering a number of sociological and theological issues surrounding the veil, which, although not focused upon in popular discourse, are critical to understanding the controversy of the Muslim veil in the West. It is hoped that these considerations will give a more insightful perspective on modern debates such as the ‘burqa-ban’, and reveal the extent to which modern discourses are problematic.

Benjamin Jean Joseph Constant, Arabian Nights (French 1845-1902)  

‘Women in Islam’ is one of the longest on-going and most contentious topics within anti-Muslim discourse. Writers since the Victorian period have been consistent in singling out the position of Muslim women as a point of contention, particularly in contrast to European attitudes towards women idealised around values of equality and liberty (Daniel 1966, Ahmed 1992). Such comparisons continue today, with shifting focus from orientalist perceptions of the exotically sensual harem and polygamous lust, to the oppression of women under religious patriarchy, and an othering-obsession with Muslim women’s dress (El Guindi 1999, Bullock 2007). Indeed, the Muslim veil itself has been associated with oppression by European thinkers since at least the 18th century, but gained particular focus in the 19th century when European colonialism settled in the Middle East (Ahmed 1992, Bullock 2007). Over the last decade or more, the veil – in both its hair and face-covering guises – has become the most controversial issue within the subject of women in Islam, and is one of the most significant ‘symbolic threats’ (Stephan et al 2009) denoting a major sign of the ‘problem of Islam’ in Europe (Scott 2007).

Within popular media, the Muslim veil conveniently fits into a pre-existing paradigm within anti-Muslim discourse in Europe. That is, that Muslims are backward, statically traditional, anti-enlightenment/progression, and oppressive to women. Poole (2002) conceptualises this in a comparative framework wherein Muslim practices are made to look archaic and strange in comparison to the majority culture, while the practices of the dominant group are generally not challenged, but presupposed. The condition of Muslim women and their veils are therefore used as a ‘proof’ of the backwardness of Muslim culture, cementing such perceptions in the minds of the social majority. The way in which Islam is criticized tends to reflect the opposing values of the critiquing community (Flood 2012). In the current context, emphasizing Muslim discrimination against women, does not only discredit Islam, but simultaneously highlights and celebrates western values of gender equality and liberation. 

The symbolic threat of the veil has become increasingly prominent throughout the 20th century. For Khiabany and Williamson (2008) the issue of Muslim dress in the media has classically been linked with patriarchal oppression and backwardness, but the discourse, they claim, has been transformed: ‘it is now a symbol of a stubborn refusal to accept ‘our’ culture or to embrace modernity; it is a sign of defiance and an image of menace’ (Khiabany and Williamson 2008: 70). Zebiri (2008) similarly argues that the hijab, along with other Muslim gender-themed issues, are ‘represented in much of the discourse as challenging or negating some of the most cherished and recently-won “Western” values of human rights, female emancipation, and sexual liberation’ (Zebiri 2008: 21). The perception fits the linearly progressive social paradigm wherein the western world allegedly advances while the Muslim world remains static and resistant to change (Said 1997, Samman 2012). Moreover, the veil has become an easily-identifiable and everyday symbol through which to channel other aspects of anti-Muslim discourse (Scott 2007). 

Construction of a Negative Discourse 

A number of key moments in recent history have contributed to the construction of the heightened negative perception of the veil/burqa in the UK, as well as its accompanying ban discourse. Former home and foreign secretary, Jack Straw, is believed to have ignited the issue in October 2006, when he had published an article claiming that the niqab is a ‘visible statement of separation and of difference’ which is ‘bound to make better, positive relations between the two communities more difficult.’ A statement from someone who holds such a position in society plays a powerful role in constructing boundaries of discourse (van Dijk 2015). Indeed, Baker et al.’s (2013) study looking at the appearance of the word burqa and veil, as well as their synonyms in the British press from the years 1998 to 2009, found that there was a strong increase in their usage in 2006, prior to which, little interest was paid. News reports following Straw’s 2006 article not only continued to address the veil-ban debate, but quoted his words repeatedly, embedding the discourse in the media narrative (Baker et al. 2013). Also significant to structuring the modern veil discourse was the precedent set by both Belgium and France – two of the UK’s nearest neighboring European countries – by banning the veil in 2010 and 2011, respectively. These bans, unprecedented in European history, have heavily helped shape the framework in which the veil is understood at the time of writing as a controversial and unwanted symbol of oppression with dubious legal status. Following Belgium’s ban, a UK YouGov 2010 survey showed that 67% of Britons also supported a ban in Britain.

Historically, the veil was not problematised the way it is today. Baker et al.’s (2013) research into 19th century British news articles shows that there was hardly any mention of the veil in the context of Muslim women, nor was it ever discussed as a topic of central focus. For example, a rare reference in a December 1881 issue of The Pall Mall Gazette addresses mountain life in Algeria, and praises the Berber people for being unlike the Arabs and more like the Aryan races of Europe: ‘They are more industrious and more agricultural than the Arabs; their laws and institutions are more democratic… [t]hey may confidently be said to be the least bigoted of any people professing Mohammedanism; they seldom go to the mosque… and their women go about freely without the veil of Islam.’ Here the veil is negatively portrayed as an attachment to Islam and Muslim practice in general, which is, a priori, framed negatively. A possible reason offered by Baker et al. (2013) for the lack of veil referencing up to the late 19th century is that women in both Muslim and western nations at the time were somewhat equivalent in status. It was not until the late 19th/20th century that feminist movements would begin to generate a distinction between cultures, allowing negative criticisms of Muslim women’s dress to ensue. Leila Ahmed (1992) adds the contributing factor of European colonial presence in Muslims lands, which continuously defined itself as culturally superior. The idea that Muslim men in colonised societies oppressed their women was used to justify the colonial project of undermining and eradicating cultures of colonised people. To this effect, the veil and segregation were characteristics which epitomized the oppression of women, rendering them primary targets of colonial forces. As feminism and perceptions of cultural superiority continued to develop in the West, so did the critique of Muslim women and their alleged oppression, in which the veil was its most obvious symbol. Still, domestically, there was no focus on the veil in and of itself until the 21st century. Studies of Islamophobia and religious references in the British media in the 80s and 90s show that neither the headscarf nor the face-veil typically made mainstream news (Poole 2002, Knott 1984), and even within academia, El Guindi notes the lack of exclusively focused study given to the veil prior to her publication, Veil in 1999. Despite a growth of research interest for women in the Middle East since the 1970s, such studies tended to focus more on gender roles, rather than on the veil itself. 

In Part 2, I’ll be considering the meaning of the veil more generally, and then specifically take a look at how it is understood within Arab/Islamic spaces and culture, in hope to widen one’s imagination regarding it.

The Essence of Romantic Love is Nothingness?

A controversial title, no doubt, but certainly not intended to arouse your momentary attention. It comes from a genuine concern regarding a phenomenon so central to our lives – romantic love. Specifically, the passionate, companionship-based love between two people; the kind of love that that we assume was the force behind what gave us birth; the kind of love we see in the movies; the type of love that we desire insofar as we are affectionate beings.

So what do I mean by claiming that its essence is nothingness? Well, it’s quite simple. It rests on the idea that romantic love is conditional. Its formation and maintenance depend on certain criteria being present, and if these things cease to be present, it leads to breakups, divorces, and heartache. Such criteria can take a variety of forms for different people. They can be the enjoyment of someone’s appearance or wealth; the appreciation of someone’s good character, intelligence, understanding, charm, or spirit; the giving and receiving of support or emotional attention; feelings of trust, and so on. However usually it’s through a combination of many such desired attributes that love is established. There is no magic to the feeling of love. In most cases it is nothing more than a high score on a list of a person’s personal criteria. If you meet someone who satisfies many of your preferences – especially the most important ones – you will fall for them, and not necessarily through choice. There is more to the feeling of love of course, much of which is related to the subconscious mind, unmet needs, upbringing, association, etc., but the causes of love are not what I want to focus on. I’m more concerned with the idea that two people can fall out of love. That is, two people can share the most intimate, meaningful connection with each other, and then later, treat each other like strangers, or worse, even be agitated or repulsed by that ex-lover. How many people do we know who have loved a certain someone, perhaps used to make love to that certain someone, and even produced life with that certain someone, but are now largely estranged from them? What an odd phenomenon. Given the fact that the average person feels such a connection to more than one person throughout their lives, it’s fair to say that the construction of love, followed by its deconstruction, is actually the norm. That, is a worrying fact about love.

After the established passion, intimacy, and bond between a couple, we see too many cases where passion is replaced with indifference, and intimacy with distance, as the ‘magical’ bond ceases to exist. In essence, love becomes nothingness. Once certain criteria or needs cease to be met, it reveals an emptiness underneath. There is no transcendental, everlasting, underlying bond. It is a construction. Literally, like the building of a house on empty space, enjoyed for a while but always potentially destructible insofar as it was constructed in the first place. Some buildings last a few months, some a few years. The lucky ones make it last a lifetime. But this doesn’t deny the emptiness beneath. It’s just the case that these minorities of lasting relationships are fortunate enough not to arrive back at this emptiness. They build a strong enough house and maintain it together through the internal and external challenges that threaten its construction. In such a sense, the nothingness at the heart of romantic relationships is consistently masked. All the while, our culture, media, family and friends constantly tell us that ‘true love’ does exist, that it is ‘unconditional’, and that it ‘never dies’. I’m afraid the overwhelming evidence around us of break ups, divorces, and the endless examples of people contently moving on with new lovers, suggests otherwise.

In sum, it is impossible for something to be unconditional if it has evolved from the presence of certain conditions. And insofar as anything is conditional and constructed, it can be deconstructed. All loving relationships begin from a lack of feeling love towards that significant other. Over time, whether through a friendship or at first sight, love is conditionally created and strengthened through the satisfaction of certain criteria. Thus, insofar as romantic love starts from nothing, it can always return to being nothing and can never be associated with an underlying, unconditional connection. The nature of relationship breakups and divorces, followed by the finding of new love, offers overwhelming support for this.

I’m not claiming that romantic relationships are therefore a waste of time. By all means, people should construct and maintain these houses, and indeed, such constructions can be beautiful. However, the general popular perception of love as this transcendental, abstract, everlasting connection is quite unhelpful and leads to a lot of disappointment. It’s far healthier for us to be grounded in reality, and to see love for both what it is, and what it is not.

Victorian Perspectives on Islamic Sexuality

The issue of sexuality in Islam has been a common target of criticism against the religion since the earliest European perspectives. From the 9th Century, writers and travellers understood Islam as sanctioning the fulfilment of lusts, which Christian thinkers perceived as being detrimental to the spirit, and rationally argued as being contrary to natural law.

The framework within which such reproaches were deployed held Christian marital and sexual values as the benchmark from which all morality was measured. Christians had perceived marriage as strictly monogamous and permanent till death to the extent that divorce and remarriage of other traditions was seen as legalized adultery. The ideal was that of unconditional commitment – evidence of mutual respect and relational sanctity. Moreover, Christian thinkers understood Muslim marital law, which fell short of permanently exclusive monogamy, as sexist. Victorian writer on Islam, John J. Poole, in his Studies in Mohammedanism (1892), makes a stark comparison between the treatment of women in the two major faiths: “nowhere on earth will you find woman so degraded as in countries where Islamism reigns supreme! A Mohammedan regards woman not as a companion and helpmeet for him, but as a plaything, a pretty toy, as soulless almost as his turban, his pipe, and his amber mouth-piece. How blessed is the contrast when we look at Christianity, and think of Christ, who reverenced women, who made them His friends, who chose them as His co-labourers, and who regarded them as heirs with men of the Kingdom of Heaven!”

Similarly, in his foundational work “Psychopathia Sexualis” (1894), Austro-German psychiatrist, Richard von Krafft-Ebing, expresses that “Christianity gave the most powerful impulse to the moral elevation of the sexual relations by raising women to social equity with man.” Krafft-Ebing goes on to refer to Islam and its treatment of women in comparison: “the Mohammedan woman has ever remained essentially a means of sensual gratification and procreation; while, on the other hand, the virtues and capabilities of the Christian woman, as housewife, educator of children, and equal companion of man, have been allowed to unfold in all their beauty. Islam, with its polygamy and harem-life, is glaringly contrasted with the monogamy and family life of the Christian world.”

There was a general fascination towards the ‘looseness’ of Islamic sexuality, which permitted the fulfilment of desire in and of itself, against the strictly pro-creative function of the sexual union, rationalised by earlier Christian thinkers. Early 19th century scholar of religions, Robert Adam, described the laws prescribed by the Prophet Muhammad as “too loose for the most compliant moralist to justify, and too favourable to afford the most abandoned sensualist any probable ground of complaint.” The perceived sexual laxity of Islam was even seen as means through which to attain conversions from Christianity. It was as if Victorian scholars could not see past the question of sexuality in the Muslim faith in judging the religion or the character of its prophet. Adam continues: “the retirements of Mohammed, from his first acquisition of power to his last decline of life, were continually disgraced by every excessive indulgence of that passion, which has a more particular tendency to degrade the dignity of the human character even below the brute creation.”

Such was the sentiment across the Christendom of 19th century Europe. In the modern Western world, the perspective of Islamic sexuality has changed. No longer are followers of the Muslim faith seen as lax with their desires and passions, but rather, they are seen as sexually restraint and reserved. The simple reason for this is that the ethos of sexuality has dramatically changed in Europe, altering the standard from which Muslim social law is judged. In contrast, Muslims have remained relatively consistent in those practices and beliefs that so appalled the 19th century western onlooker: divorce, remarriage, polygamy, sex without the intention to procreate, and a sensual paradise.

Moreover, the modern liberal resentment towards Victorian prudishness, with its narratives of sin, shame and guilt (particularly for women), is often imposed upon the Muslim faith. The modern perspective is, therefore, also deeply psychological. The ‘contained’ and ordered sexuality of Islam is associated with a past self that most Europeans are happy to have left behind.

In many respects, the altering of European values undermines the stability and validity of its moral judgments. There can hardly be any absolute “truth” to a set of values if they are based on a shifting essence. And if moral relativity is self-acknowledged, it makes little sense to be so staunchly judgmental. Nevertheless, moral absolutes are typically deployed in anti-Muslim thought. Despite Europe’s evolving values, there is remarkable and almost perplexing consistency in the fact that in both Victorian and liberal modern times, Islamic sexual values are seen as negative, backward and unenlightened. This would unfortunately imply that the desire to construct Islam as negatively oppositional is a top priority in perceiving the religion at all, regardless of its actual content.

References
Adam, Robert (1818) The Religious World Displayed: or, A view of the four grand systems of religion, Judaism, paganism, Christianity, and Mohammedism, Vol. 1, Philadelphia: Moses Thomas

Krafft- Ebing, Richard von (1894) Psychopathia Sexualis, with special reference to Contrary Sexual Instinct, 7th ed., Chaddock, Charles G. (trans.) London: A, O. Watts & Co.

Pool, John J. (1892) Studies in Mohammedanism: Historical and Doctrinal with a Chapter on Islam in England, London: Archibald Constable and Company

India Part 6: End

I wish that I was sending this from some hot, loud internet cafe in Jaisalmer Market. But I’m not. I’m sending this from my cold, badly lit kitchen in London. Yes, I have returned from my travels and feel quite sad about it. Sand has been replaced by snow all around me, and female models on billboards once again resume their role of distorting my perception of beauty.

I really thought that I would be one of the most capable at dealing with coming back, but this has not been the case. Everything seems so empty, static, and cold. I sit around my house without purpose and wonder between the kitchen and other rooms aimlessly. I keep checking my fridge but don’t want anything in it. I’m really not happy. My brother and friends seem convinced that the feeling is natural and will pass with time. I’m open to this thought but not entirely convinced. It is for that reason that I am literally about 2 clicks away from booking a flight back out of the country for some time. It’s really that bad.

Ten weeks in a simple, desert environment feels much closer to what life should be like. It’s better at representing what living has been like for humanity on this planet due to its simplicity and closeness to nature. It is for this reason that I loved India. Not because of India itself, but because of the environment we were in. There are so many things that I miss and that I want to continue to experience. I want the sun to beat down on me throughout the day; to sling a sheet-blanket over my shoulders in public when it’s cold; to wear flip-flops in the sand; and to have 3 meals like clock-work and have no say in what they are. I want to be anxious about the temperature of my water before I shower; to want to walk around in the evenings where my trusty hand-held companion isn’t my mobile phone, but my torch; to sleep in the company of others; and to see exactly when the sun rises and sets. I want to share smiles with children who have little; to wake up each morning guaranteed that I’ll be doing something meaningful with my day; to hear the number 5 pronounced “pipe”; to be charmingly shouted at by market sellers as I walk passed their stalls; to be able to bring down the prices of things I buy, and to see and dodge animals everywhere I go. I want the opportunity to have an adventure at any moment.

On the last day of teaching, I was able to see the fruits of my labour with Amida, when she sat outside the Day Care Centre and was teaching a couple of the village kids some of the first words that I taught her 9 weeks ago. It would be the first time she had ever taught any English to the kids she cares for. I was so happy to see this, I almost cried. It’s exactly what I wanted.

Even the other volunteers, I will miss greatly. Despite the gossip and ‘banter’ as they called it, they were the people I shared this experience with. When the vast majority of them sent around sentimental notebooks for everyone else to sign and write their goodbyes, I made sure I wrote a personal message to each one highlighting a trait that I especially liked. I took Amida’s address and gave her mine so we could write to one another. I intend to stay in touch with the village, and I do intend to return someday.

It’s been a pleasure writing to you all. Thanks for reading. I never did get my phone back. And I never got to try out the mystical ritual whereby the thief’s identity would be revealed in person’s finger nail at the recitation of some prayers. So alternatively, my brother popped to Brent Cross and bought me a new phone from the 02 Store. My (same) number should be up and running soon.

Over and out