Use a “Muslim Woman”: Reasserting Dutch Values 101

This post was originally published on Muslimah Media Watch on 2 Dec 2013

A few weeks ago, I went to a small, local cinema in my city to catch a film. I’ve always liked going to this particular cinema because they screen international and independent films – a fresh change from the standard Hollywood fare at the bigger cinema.

The film was about to start, so I quickly ducked into the ladies’. After I washed my hands, imagine my shock at seeing the following poster pasted behind the door:

Source: Hivos

The text on the poster says (in Dutch):

“This woman is a symbol for all homosexual women and men in developing countries that, through Hivos’s human rights programme, can come out about their orientation.”

Another version of the poster has a slightly different text, and ends on an appeal for donations:

“There are countries where people cannot say what they want, and cannot be who they are. Hivos, a development organisation, wants to give a voice to as many of these people as possible. Because everyone should be able to be, and say, what he or she wants. Support Hivos GIRO 1969.”

As you might imagine, my shock was not so much “OMG a Muslimwoman is lesbian” but “OMG misuse of images of veiled women (yet again)!”

When I posted this picture and my reaction on Facebook, bemoaning the use of a veiled brown woman to homogenise and represent developing countries as homophobic, I received an interesting reaction from a white Dutch woman.

This acquaintance made a clear comparison between “Islamic countries” and Holland. Illustrating her argument with a story that her daughter is lesbian and is able to live a perfectly heteronormative life (hoping to marry, have children and build a household), she stated that she was glad that her daughter was born in Holland and not in “Islamic countries”.

I believe this is the main reaction that the poster intends to arouse in its main viewers – middle class white Dutch people who wish to help those in developing countries: that they should feel grateful for the “freedom” and “tolerance” in the Netherlands and extend their generosity to other countries that are not as “free”.

Attempts by fellow queer Muslim women to add nuance to her argument only led to a flat out denial of any marginalisation of LGBTQ groups (for example, those of colour) in the Netherlands, and her reinforcement of the idea that Islam is (and Muslims are) inherently homophobic. In fact, she even accused me of not being sufficiently “tolerant” because I found her category of homophobic “Islamic countries” to be reinforcing stereotypes and erasing complex socio-political histories.

I still wonder about the logic behind this campaign by Hivos. What do they mean, exactly, that this “veiled lady symbolises the difficult fight against homophobia”? That all Muslims are homophobic? That all countries with Muslim laws are homophobic? That LGBTQ Muslims always want to come out? That LGBTQ Muslims need the support and solidarity from development organisations in the Global North to help them?

Further reading reveals that Hivos holds the hegemonic, liberal feminist idea that “the position of lesbian women as a measure of freedom” can and must be applied to all countries. However, such an universal idea of freedom has already been sharply critiqued, interrogated and questioned by women scholars such as Saba Mahmood,Gayatri Spivak and Lila Abu-Lughod.

As I found out, the woman in the poster is not even Muslim.

The woman in the picture is in fact Papu, a Bhopa woman from the Thar desert in Rajasthan, India, photographed by Mirjam Letsch, a Dutch photographer. In fact, in some areas in rural north India, married Hindu women veil themselves in front of certain people like older male in-laws. According to the website set up by the photographer, Papu has a husband, children, and supports her family by playing music on the streets. Most importantly, the Papu Photo Project was actually set up to support Indian “dowry victims” – women who are mutilated, set on fire, or killed for not being able to provide sufficient dowry. Not LGBTQ women who are unable to come out.

Source: NRC Charity Awards

This campaign was selected in 2011 for a charity awards competition by NRC, a Dutch newspaper. Taking a quick look at the website of this year’s awards, I found another example of the use of the image of a brown woman in hijab as a way to catch the viewer’s attention, using stereotypes about Muslims.

The text on the poster by Antoni van Leeuwenhoek Foundation below says “I am against equal treatment” (presumably, of men and women). This poster plays on the stereotype that Muslims (and especially Muslim women in hijab) are never for gender equality, unlike white Dutch people – ignoring and erasing the work of Dutch Muslim organisations and platforms that believe in gender equality such as Al Nisa and Nieuwe Moskee. It turns out upon closer inspection of the text, that the ad is about cancer treatment.

This is exactly the purpose of the image of the veiled Rajasthani woman on the Hivos poster. By juxtaposing an image of what seems to be a Muslim woman from a developing country together with the text “I am lesbian”, the organisation intends to get the attention of a certain kind of viewer. This viewer is assumed to believe that Muslims are homophobic because LGBTQ Muslims are oppressed (only) by religion, and that homophobia is a problem of developing countries and not countries with lots of “freedom” like the Netherlands. 

The poster in fact merely reinforces the self-image of white Dutch people, helping them feel good about themselves (which they then act upon by hopefully donating some money).

Source: Author's own photo

In one article on their website, Hivos mentions the arrests and legal penalties for gay/lesbian people in Malawi and Uganda (perhaps more relevant to another poster from the same campaign, which pictures a black man with the words “I’m gay” ). According to Hivos, these incidents justify the use of the image of an Indian woman (so they do know that she’s Indian!).Hivos adds in the same article that “whether or not this lady herself is a lesbian, does not matter”. 

However, it matters because 1) the text says “I am lesbian”, and 2) it means that the organisation is playing on the stereotypes of a veiled woman, without caring if the woman herself is lesbian.

Is it a stretch of the imagination to feature an actual lesbian brown woman, whether Hindu or Muslim, for a really effective campaign? These two posters in effect racialise LGBTQ issues as a problem of “others” in “developing countries” and not “at home”. More importantly, why claim to support one marginalised group while further marginalising another?

Tudung or Not Tudung?: Hijabis in Singaporean Workplaces

This post was originally published at Muslimah Media Watch on 5 Nov 2013

In Singapore, the hijab is more commonly referred to with the Malay word ‘tudung’, which simply means a covering. In October this year, a petition was started on Avaaz.org by a “Syafiqah K.” to allow Muslim women in Singapore to wear tudung (hijab) in the workplace. It aimed to reach 20,000 signatures, but was closed down recently with about 7600 signatures short of its goal. It was originally planned to be sent to several figures in the government.

As of today, the Singapore government has what appears to be an almost arbitrary policy on Muslim women wearing hijab in the workplace. According to political rhetoric, the hijab is not allowed in “front-line positions” that require daily contact with other Singaporeans, including non-Muslim ones. However, there is no law that details this specifically.

According to my observations, there are professions that involve contact with people (thus appearing to be rather “front-line” for all intents and purposes) and yet allow hijabs. Examples include public transport companies, teachers, doctors (except when in scrubs), and politicians. In the government, for example, hijab is allowed as long as it doesn’t involve the “front-line” (case in point: my sister works in the tax authority wearing a hijab). Examples of professions that totally do not allow hijabs include police, military and navy officers, and nurses. As for private companies, their dress code is left to their own discretion.

This petition sparked a public debate in the mainstream and social media, for the second time. The first time (that I know of, at least) was in February 2002, when four little girls were banned from government primary schools after their parents sent them to school in hijabs and modified school uniforms (with lengthened sleeves and skirts). The then-mufti of Singapore (who is considered a civil servant because the Islamic authority is considered a government body) declared that “education is more important [than the hijab]” and urged their parents to comply with the school uniforms.

A glaring omission in this past debate was the voices of those girls. Note that their parents packed them off to school with hijabs when they were only seven years old. As hijab was not even obligatory on them, it appeared to me that their parents politicised the issue of hijab to highlight their own concerns that Malays, as the indigenous people of Singapore, were being marginalised in public policies. As for the government, the stock answer is that maintaining harmony between a Chinese majority and a Malay minority is hard work.

Facebook image created by anonymous artist to show solidarity with Singaporean Muslim women
Source

This theme surfaced again in the recent hijab debate: the “integration” of Malays into the Chinese majority. Malay (and presumably Muslim) nominated member of parliament* Zulkifli Baharudin’s opinion is that Muslims need to integrate better, and “not expect others to accomodate them all the time”. He attributes the “strong religiosity” of Singaporean Muslims to something primitive, and resistant to the “years of progress, education and Westernisation”. His views echo the sentiments of Singapore’s minister mentor** in his book ‘Hard Truths’ (2011), when he said:

“I would say, today, we can integrate all religions and races, except Islam… Be less strict on Islamic observances and say, ‘Okay, I’ll eat with you’.”

Predictably, the Malay community feels attacked by the continual belittling of their customs and faith by the state apparatus and the Chinese majority.

The current mufti of Singapore, Mohamed Fatris Bakaram, has framed the issue in a way at least one blogger thinks is correct: that the hijab should not be seen as problematic to integration or racial and religious harmony, and that Muslim women who feel inclined to wear hijab on the basis of religious conviction should be allowed to do so in any profession, just as Muslim women who do not feel inclined to not wear hijab should be able to do so as well.

What about the voices of Muslim women? Their lack of visibility and voice is lamented in the public debate. On one hand, the thousands of Muslim women who signed the petition were dismissed by an MP Zaqy Mohamad, as engaging in a strategy of “astro-turfing” which he implied as being illegitimate and not constructive.

“The initiator has not identified himself or herself. So no one knows who initiated it, or whether the response is real.”

On the other hand, the handful of hijabi Muslim women who work within the state apparatus, such as Speaker of Parliament Halimah Yacob, are pressured into giving her stand. I don’t find it surprising that she is hesitant to do so, because she is part of the state and she cannot openly counter its official stance, just as MP Zaqy Mohamad has to push official rhetoric in order to remain in office.

Personally, I believe the inconsistent hijab policy in Singapore has allowed a space for Muslim women to practise their personal convictions through different strategies. For example, I know one long-time hijabi who wanted to stop wearing hijab by deciding to become a police officer, thus avoiding social pressure. Another works as a nurse, and wears her hijab going to and leaving from the hospital. Yet another hijabi trained as a nurse, but decided to become a teacher after she realised she could not wear her hijab.

So what do we make of this debate?

It’s difficult to raise our voices in restrictive political conditions. In the semi-authoritarian state of Singapore disguised as a liberal democracy, there is no room for petitions and referendums. The inconsistent policy of allowing hijab in certain professions means that the issue can be used by both the state and the people to point out how much and how little freedom Muslims have, respectively.

At the same time, it is not to say that only democratic societies are able to handle such debates. Perhaps the blurred lines of the policy means that it is possible to have dialogue and debate in society about this issue. One profession at a time, it may be possible for Muslim women in Singapore to freely choose their career and how they practise their faith.

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* NMPs are a uniquely Singaporean political creation, consisting of politicians who are chosen by the president to enter parliament, and do not represent any political party or electorate.

** Again, another uniquely Singaporean position for the man to whom much of the country’s development is credited under his authoritarian rule, Lee Kuan Yew.