harmonicminer

Muslim women find an ally for more rights: the Koran

Indonesia’s Siti Musdah Mulia is a name to remember. That’s because she is showing Muslim women how to break out of bondage by using the words of the Koran.
Dr. Mulia was raised in a traditional Indonesian Muslim home and an Islamic boarding school. She was barred from contact with men. She was not allowed to laugh out loud. If she socialized with a non-Muslim, she was made to shower afterward.

Growing up, she traveled to other Muslim countries and found ways to understand Islam other than the rigid orthodoxy of her upbringing. Having earned a PhD in Islamic political thought, she has become a significant force in Indonesia and elsewhere for Muslim women’s rights. In 2007 she received the International Women of Courage award from then-US Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice.

Mulia is one of several courageous Muslim feminists who are challenging conservative male interpretations of Islam. As Isobel Coleman, a leading American authority on Islamic feminism and a senior fellow at the Council on Foreign Relations, told me: “Half of those men have never read the Koran in their own language.”

Mulia is one of several Muslim women in Arab and non-Arab Muslim countries profiled in a new book by Dr. Coleman, “Paradise Beneath Her Feet: How Women are Transforming the Middle East.”

Instead of blatantly waving the banner of democracy, certain to raise charges of being tools of Western cultural imperialism, these women are quietly working within the culture, rather than against it, citing progressive interpretations of Islam itself as justification for women’s empowerment, particularly in education and the workplace.

Coleman applauds the work of a global women’s movement, musawah (“equality” in Arabic), in researching how the laws of Islam elevated women’s rights in Arabia upon the faith’s 7th-century arrival there. Islamic laws prohibited the killing of girl babies, upheld the right of women to own property, the right to choose their own husbands and impose conditions on the marriage, and to divorce their husbands. They entitled women to an education, to dignity and respect, and the right to think for themselves.

As the largest Muslim country in the world, Indonesia has experienced its surge of Islamic fundamentalism, as has the neighboring Muslim country of Malaysia. But both are non-Arab countries. Both are democracies that have avoided the religious extremism of the Arab world. In many respects, Indonesia today is a showplace of how nations prosper when they advance the cause of women in education and the workplace.

Could its example cause a transformation in the Arab world, where in some countries half the female population is illiterate and denied the benefits of education? Coleman says that when she floats this thesis in the Arab Muslim countries, the answer is: “But they [Indonesians] are not really Arabs.” True enough, but they are Muslims, and a common faith must surely have some influence.

In the world of politics, Indonesia has exerted substantial influence in Southeast Asia. However, successive leaders since President Sukarno have been careful to assert its non-aligned status vis-à-vis the major powers. US diplomacy has skillfully taken account of this, offering help and aid when welcome (as was the case when a giant tsunami crashed across Indonesia’s shores in 2004) but avoiding too public an embrace.

The present government of President Yudhoyono has, however, given some cautious indications that Muslim Indonesia might be able to help ease tensions between the Muslim Arab world and Israel.

In religious development, women in Indonesia are finding common cause with Muslim women elsewhere as they recapture the original meaning of the Koranic texts. Perhaps, as Coleman suggests, this quiet revolution “has the potential to be as transformative in this century as the Christian Reformation was in the 16th century.”

There are a few, oh pitifully few Muslims and Muslim organizations who are trying to reform Islam from the inside.  One is linked here.  We need to support these people in every way that we can.  I think there are probably many who would like to work towards such reform, but are simply afraid.

It is an open question whether or not Islam has the resources to BE reformed.  What powered the Protestant Reformation (and eventually the Counter-Reformation) was a return to foundational teachings, and a stripping away of some of the accretions of tradition in favor of the roots of Christianity.

It is not clear to me that a return to the roots of Islam is really a great idea.  A reformation of Islam probably needs to reflect a different approach, some kind of willingness to interpret Islamic texts not in an originalist way, but in a “post-modern” way.

So, the paradox:  I am in favor of “originalist” interpretations of the Bible, but I hope that Muslims will discover “post-modern” interpretations of the Koran that will allow them to resist the call to violence issued by Muslim fundamentalists.

And, being a Christian, I cannot fail but to hope, profoundly, that many Muslims will find Christ, as they begin to question the roots of Islam.

If you read here much, you know that I am skeptical about the existence of “moderate Islam,” although I think there are such things as “moderate Muslims.” By that, of course, I mean that there is precious little ideological or historical support for “moderate Islam” as a coherent perspective, because such a perspective would require ignoring so much that is central to the Koran and Hadith, as interpreted by Muslims themselves.   But there are certainly Muslims who desire to be moderate, and are struggling to find a way to be so.

Here is a very interesting opinion piece by Paul Wolfowitz, a former U.S. ambassador to Indonesia and assistant secretary of state for East Asia, and a visiting scholar at the American Enterprise Institute.  He is a well known conservative, and a person who was central in the Bush Administration’s decision to invade Iraq.  He is much reviled by the Left, but opinions like the one below show him to be far more nuanced than he is often portrayed.

Wahid and the Voice of Moderate Islam

By PAUL WOLFOWITZ

Abdurrahman Wahid, who died last week at the age of 69, was the first democratically elected president of Indonesia, the world’s fourth largest country and third largest democracy. It has the largest Muslim population of any country in the world. Although he was forced from office after less than two years, he nevertheless helped to set the course of what has been a remarkably successful transition to democracy.

Even more important than his role as a politician, Wahid was the spiritual leader of Nahdlatul Ulama, the largest Muslim organization in Indonesia, and probably in the world, with 40 million members. He was a product of Indonesia’s traditionally tolerant and humane practice of Islam, and he took that tradition to a higher level and shaped it in ways that will last long after his death.

Wahid recognized that the world’s Muslim community is engaged in what he called in a 2005 op-ed for this newspaper “nothing less than a global struggle for the soul of Islam” and he understood the danger for Indonesia, for Islam and for all of us from this “crisis of misunderstanding that threatens to engulf our entire world.”

Wahid was one of the most impressive leaders I have known. Although his formal higher education was limited to Islamic studies in Cairo and Arabic literature in Baghdad, his breadth of knowledge was astounding. With a voracious appetite for knowledge and a remarkably retentive memory, he seemed to know all of the important Islamic religious and philosophical texts. He also loved reading a wide range of Western literature (including most of William Faulkner’s novels) as well as Arabic poetry. He enjoyed French movies, and cinema in general, and could identify the conductor of a Beethoven symphony simply by listening to a recording. He was an avid soccer fan and once compared the different styles of two German soccer teams to illustrate two alternative strategies for economic development. He loved jokes, particularly political ones. During Suharto’s autocratic rule he published a collection of Soviet political humor in Indonesian, with the obvious purpose of teaching his own people how to laugh at their rulers.

Despite all that learning, Wahid had a common touch that enabled him to express his thoughts in down-to-earth language. He thus gained broad legitimacy for a moderate and tolerant vision. He could speak to young Indonesians, grappling with the relationship between religion and science by explaining to them the thoughts of a medieval Arab philosopher like Ibn Rushd (known to Christian philosophers as Averroes). And he was all the more effective because he himself had grappled with controversial ideas.

Wahid had been somewhat attracted in his youth by the writings of Said Qutb and Hasan al Banna, the founders of the Muslim brotherhood, but his deep humanism led him to reject them. When I visited him recently he told me of a long-ago visit to a mosque in Morocco where an Arabic translation of Aristotle’s “Nichomachean Ethics” was on display. Seeing that book had brought tears to his eyes and Wahid explained: “If I hadn’t read the ‘Nichomachean Ethics’ as a young man, I might have joined the Muslim brotherhood.”

No doubt, what had so impressed Wahid was that Aristotle could arrive at deep truths about matters of right and wrong without the aid of religion, based simply on the belief that “the human function is activity of the soul in accord with reason” (Nichomachean Ethics, Book I). But his tears must have reflected the thought of how close he had come to accepting a cramped and intolerant view of life and humanity.

Throughout his public career, three ideas were central to Wahid’s thinking. First was that true belief required religious freedom. “The essence of Islam,” he once wrote, is “encapsulated” in the words of the Quran, “For you, your religion; for me, my religion.” Indonesia, he believed, needs “to develop a full religious tolerance based on freedom of faith.” Second was his belief that the fundamental requirement for democracy—or any form of just government—is equal treatment for all citizens before the law. Third, that respect for minorities is essential for social stability and national unity, particularly for Indonesia with its extraordinary diversity.

Throughout his career Wahid spoke up forcefully for people with unpopular ideas—even ones he disagreed with—and for the rights of ethnic and religious minorities. He was admired by the Christian and Chinese minorities for his willingness to do so. One of his first acts as president was to participate in prayers at a Hindu temple in Bali where he had earlier spent several months studying Hindu philosophy. Later he removed a number of restrictions on ethnic Chinese and made Chinese New Year an optional national holiday.

Even after leaving office, Wahid’s role as a defender of religious freedom was extremely important. Indonesian voters have rejected extremist politics at the polls—and the leadership of the current president, Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono deserves much credit for that. Nevertheless, extremist views and even violent extremism too often go unchallenged. A recent report from The Wahid Insitute (which he founded in 2004) notes that a minority with extremist views, now in control of the Indonesian Ulama Council, has issued religious rulings against “deviant” groups. An even smaller minority that espouses violence, particularly the Islamic Defender Front, has attacked Christian churches and the mosques of the small Muslim Ahmadiyah sect.

Wahid was one of the few prominent Indonesians to defend the rights of the Ahmadiyah or to speak out forcefully against the Islamic Defender Front. Doing so takes courage. But he was always courageous, whether in defying President Suharto at the height of his power or in his personal struggle against encroaching blindness and failing health.

Although optimistic that “true Islam” will prevail, as he wrote in his 2005 op-ed, Wahid did not underestimate the dangers facing the world from an “extreme . . . ideology in the minds of fanatics” who “pervert Islam into a dogma of intolerance, hatred and bloodshed” and who justify their brutality by declaring “Islam is above everything else.” This fundamentalist ideology, he said, “has become a well-financed, multifaceted global movement that operates like a juggernaut in much of the developing world.” What begins as a misunderstanding “of Islam by Muslims themselves” becomes a “crisis of misunderstanding” that afflicts “Muslims and non-Muslims alike, with tragic consequences.”

No one who knew Abdurrahman Wahid can believe that those fanatics who preach hatred and violence speak for the world’s Muslims. Even though the extremist ideology represents a distinct minority of Muslims, it is well-financed and well-organized. To confront it, Muslim leaders like himself need, as he wrote in 2005, “the understanding and support of like-minded individuals, organizations and governments throughout the world . . . to offer a compelling alternate vision of Islam, one that banishes the fanatical ideology of hatred to the darkness from which it emerged.”

That support includes material support, but it also includes the moral support that comes from international recognition and attention for Muslim leaders who speak out with the courage that Wahid did.

When Wahid was only 12 he was riding in a car with his father, Wahid Hasyim, himself a prominent Muslim leader at the time of Indonesian independence, when the car slid off a mountain road and his father suffered fatal injuries. What Wahid most remembered from that tragic event was the sight of thousands of people lining the roads as his father’s casket traveled the 80 kilometers from Surabaya to his burial at Jombang. Overwhelmed by the affection people had for his father, he wondered “What could one man do that the people would love him so?”

As the funeral procession for Wahid himself traveled the same route on the last day of 2009, thousands of mourners, deeply moved, again lined the road. What had he done that Indonesians so loved him? Perhaps the question is answered by the words that he asked to have on his tomb: “Here lies a humanist.” That he was and a great one as well. No one can replace him, but hopefully he has inspired others to follow in his path.

Mr. Wolfowitz, a former U.S. ambassador to Indonesia and assistant secretary of state for East Asia, is a visiting scholar at the American Enterprise Institute.

h/t: Michael Yon