I recently had the pleasure of hearing Asma Barlas speak, which was amazing. She’s one of the first people I read when I started reading about Islamic feminism, and her book Believing Women in Islam had a huge effect on me. What I found especially interesting about her talk was what she said about the hadith. Usually when critical Islamic thinkers speak or write, they tend to either ignore the hadith or approach it in a very all-or-nothing way (which usually means rejecting all the hadith).
Asma on the other hand argued that the hadith shouldn’t be completely rejected, but rather that they should be interpreted through the Qur’an. In other words, the Qur’an should act as a filter through which we approach the hadith. If the Qur’an says one thing and there is a hadith that contradicts this, why would we take the hadith as more authoritative? Many Islamic scholars today seem to be doing the opposite of what Barlas advocates – reading the Qur’an through the hadith. This places the hadith either alongside the Qur’an, or above it, which is a problematic view.
Barlas’ approach is very useful, because it combines both the Qur’an and hadith, but with the Qur’an as the ultimate word of God. The only thing is that it will always depend on how you interpret the Qur’an. If you see it as a gender equal text, then you will filter the hadith that way. But this is inescapable – we all read and interpret the Qur’an from our own subjectivities.
I spent the last week in Madinah and Makkah doing Umrah, which was an extremely beautiful experience that I will blog about as soon as I’ve settled back into daily life. I just wanted to share a quick story with you, based on my experience of Friday’s khutba at the Masjid al Haram in Makkah.
The khutba was given by Abdel Rahman al Sudais, who is one of the most famous imams in the world, and one of the imams of the Masjid al Haram. In the khutba he discussed corruption, and ended by talking about what was happening in Syria. What struck me was that during the khutba he began crying several times. Once or twice he even had to stop speaking because he was so overwhelmed. It made me think about dominant forms of masculinity in Islamic and Arab communities, and how strange it is to hear a man cry over – well – anything.
Yet here was one of the most influential Islamic men in the world, openly crying in front of hundreds of thousands. It’s interesting that in dominant representations of Islamic masculinity we would never hear about instances like these, that show the humility and emotion experienced by men, especially in the presence of God or extreme suffering such as in Syria.
Right after the khutba my dad made a comment about how emotional al Sudais had been, and seemed very impressed by it. The Prophet himself is said to have been emotional and to have cried very often. So why is it so taboo in our communities? Perhaps it’s time to re-evaluate how we view masculinity in Islam?
The Qur’an is a flow and a ebb – it flows to them from God and its verses are miraculous signs which will take them back to God.
On one occasion, when returning from a battle, the Prophet said: ‘We have come back from the lesser Holy War to the Greater Holy War.’
By this he meant the war against the soul.