TRENDING IN TROPICS

BY AYU ARMAN.

I was born and raised a Muslim. My parents are strict Muslims, especially my father. As a child, I had to pray on time, recite the Qur’an, and wear a hijab. My authoritarian father didn’t hesitate to hit me if I missed a prayer. If I didn’t wake up before the adzan (call) for subuh prayer, my father would soak my face and head with water. From the age of 13, I went to a pesantren - an Islamic boarding school where I began my deeply religious education into the history of Islam. But today, though I’m still a devout Muslim woman, I choose to no longer wear the hijab - a choice that has shocked my parents and alienated me from my community.

Studying in the pesantren, I gained a broader knowledge of Islam. I began to understand that there are diverse streams of thought in Islam. These come from the different social communities and political orientation of each imam (the male prayer leader in a mosque), as well as the different methodologies they have used to study the law from its main sources, Al-Qur’an and the hadith (the reported sayings and doings of the prophet Mohammed).

When I first read the religious texts , I had so many questions. As a Muslim woman, I was taught that all of my intentions, thoughts, and attitudes should always follow the rules and moral values of Al-Qur’an, the hadiths, and fiqh (Islamic law). The problem was, the more I referred to these texts, the more I felt they were unfair to my gender, to women.

There are hadiths which uphold equality between men and women, but there are also hadiths which prescribe inequality or defend misogyny.

For example, there is the text about the creation of woman from the prophet Adam’s crooked ribs, which is usually interpreted to mean that women are only ‘half’ compared to men. Because of this, a woman’s testimony is only worth half of a man’s and her inheritance will only be half that of her brothers. Also, women can never be leaders.

Another text says: “If a man calls his wife to bed and she refuses, and then he sleeps in anger, the angels shall curse her until he awakens.” Then there is the practice of polygamy and a text that says women’s voices are aurath (forbidden) because they tend to trigger slander.

‘Why do men have more privileges than women?’ I asked my teachers, and the answer was always the same: “Because men were destined to be leaders.” Of course, that was not a satisfactory answer for me.

I wanted to see a world that doesn’t discriminate between men and women, a world where equality of the sexes is upheld. But I realised Islamic law takes the man’s side because the books were written by men. This injustice made me wonder and worry. Was it true that, socially, Islam placed women as second class citizens? To understand this question, I saw that we need to distinguish between the doctrinal teachings of Islam and the culturally based teachings of Islam.

“For me, love requires self-liberation”.

The Qur’an contains some teachings that were revolutionary and emancipative at the time it was written. It prescribed egalitarian social structures and the abolition of slavery. But its teachings also reflect the social context of the time. Today, we need to use a contextual interpretation. We need to analyse the language and consider the history, sociology, and anthropology of the Arab lands at the time when the Qur’an was written down.

Interpreting Al-Qur’an in context opens space for the emancipation of both men and women. But this kind of interpretation is often unfamiliar, and many communities find it difficult to accept. Often, those who understand the significance of gender equality experience deadlock when they confront real life situations. When a woman is stubborn enough to fight for control of her own life and destiny, she is often considered rebellious or ‘a liberal woman’.

Finally, I decided to stop wearing my veil, which I’d been wearing since I was a child. For me, the hijab was only an expression of Arab culture, not an obligation for all Muslim women.

When village and pesantren friends saw I was no longer wearing my veil, they hurled accusations at me. They said I’d turned into a ‘liberal woman’, that my faith in Islam was weak, and that I was influenced by a hedonistic, metropolitan lifestyle. The accusations became even worse when I became a single parent.

As predicted, my family, especially my parents, were ashamed of my decision. They felt humiliated by their own daughter. My father kept on insisting I wear my veil, but I told him I was convinced it is not an obligation for Muslim women. I told him I felt more confident not wearing it. Our arguments ended up only making my father more upset. My mom became depressed. I lived in an area where people are fanatically Islamic, and no one in my community was sympathetic.

Eventually, I chose to leave my organization and the community that raised me. I chose my own career path, working in media.

They said I’d turned into a ‘liberal woman’, that my faith in Islam was a weak, and that I was influenced by a hedonistic, metropolitan lifestyle.

Today, after an exhausting struggle, I know I’ve made the right choice not to wear any religious attributes on my body. Without a hijab, I’ve collaborated with and learned from many communities with different religions and ethnic backgrounds. My network is wider than it would have been, not all in one box. And most importantly, I am happy.

I know I’ve hurt my parents, but from the bottom of my heart, I still love them in my own way. For me, love requires self-liberation. If I love you, I will let you be yourself. Through rebellion I freed myself from falsity and found my most authentic self. We often need to rebel when we’re trapped in certain situations or conditions, but every rebellion has its price. We have to be ready to be slandered or even bullied. But I believe that when we find our inner self, and take charge of our lives , then we will have immeasurable happiness.

We also have to remember that Indonesia does not belong to one group, one religion, one tribe, or one culture. Indonesia belongs to all of us. Our country consists of many religions, tribes, and regions, but it is our common home.

FROM THE AUTHOR

I am a biographer and tourism writer. You can read my books at https://nalapublishing.com or see my travels to the islands of Eastern Indonesia at https://ourislands.id/