How to talk without being instrumentalized

On the sidelines of Muslim Awareness Week, we gave a voice to several Muslim women. The observation? On all sides and on all sides, this word is disturbing. Especially when it comes to considerations related to the veil... and its removal.

‍

Natasha Ivisic knows something about it, she who was invited to the set of Everyone Talks about it in 2009 for her film Je Porte le Veil. She who no longer wears it today.

‍

“I think that my film allowed a better understanding of the subject of the veil, because it is a personal journey. But it was also confronting for some people to remove mine publicly.” After the initial shock, his work was generally well received. “I have always remained very nuanced, which earned me the respect of my Muslim circle and discouraged columnists or others who were looking for a polarizing discourse. I wasn't interested in that kind of celebrity.”

‍

However, Natasha Ivisic was consulted by the media for a long time when an issue related to veiling came up in the news.

‍

Since then, the veil has continued to be the subject of public reflection and analysis. In 2017, the book Les Monologues du Veil, by journalist Kenza Bennis, was also widely talked about, before being very well received.

‍

And currently, a book to be published is making a name for itself in the Quebec Muslim community. An excerpt from the back cover of The Wind in the Veil, an autobiographical story by Samah Jebbari*, sparks a stir because it associates the removal of the veil with a personal experience of liberation. Even before knowing the content, some people are worried about the repercussions of this publication.

‍

Why?

‍

The fear of being instrumentalized

‍

‍

Essraa Daoui is a teacher, a veiled Muslim and has been involved in public debates for several years. For a long time, she believed that the best way forward was to publicly break taboos and take assertive positions. Over time, his vision of things has changed a bit. “Let's say that today, if I take the trouble to go out in public, it's to bring about real change, and after weighing all the possible consequences.”

‍

In fact, this is what she did recently by publishing a Facebook status that was widely circulated. In this speech, she offers her support and love to her Muslim sisters who have decided to remove their veil, while urging them not to make it a media cause. “It is dangerous because, when there is a discourse of oppression that surrounds the veil, there are only a few people who will separate the veil and understand that it is a personal story, specific to a lived experience.”

‍

Essraa fears that this kind of discourse could fuel Islamophobia. “Even with COVID, Muslims are still at the heart of the news. Our mental health is already fragile; so yes, the slightest announcement of the publication of a book that seems “controversial” will be a trigger, even if its author has done nuanced work.”

‍

Over the years, Essraa has noticed that her public positions — on a variety of topics, from feminism to freedom of expression to the veil — have only polarized the debates. “I attracted a certain sympathy from people who were happy to finally see a Muslim woman speak up, but who did not understand the intersection of our oppressions and who, in some cases, exploited me.

‍

On the other hand, I was facing a Muslim community that supported me, but that also took a stand up when it was pointed at,” she summarizes. Nevertheless, she believes that real change can happen through sincere debates and denunciations, which are sometimes harsh but necessary. So, what space is needed for this speech in the Muslim community? “A safe space,” she summarizes with simplicity.

‍

Amina (fictional first name), who recently decided to remove the veil after wearing it for nearly a decade, agrees. She has a lot to say on the subject. “For me, these are questions that can be analyzed in depth in safe spaces. There are too many nuances to explain, nuances that most will never understand.” She nevertheless wishes to emphasize that, while she requested anonymity for her participation in this article, it is not for fear of reprisals from her community. “I just don't want to be exploited by those who want to speak out against Islam, against the veil. My story is mine.”

‍

This fear of being exploited has often come up in testimonies. “By removing the veil, I especially did not want the Martineaux of this world to claim victory. In fact, their victory was to have legitimized all those who allowed themselves to insult and spit at me in the street. They have created a climate of Islamophobia that is too much for some Muslim women to bear... like me.”

‍

While Amina managed to live with racism for several years, becoming a mother changed the way she saw things. She could not bear to have her son witness these micro and macroaggressions. “I no longer wear a veil over my head, but I continue to carry Islam in my heart. So, these Islamophobes will surely meet me in the water games at the Granby Zoo, without a veil but in a burkini.”

‍

‍

New kind of spaces

‍

‍

The concept of safe space is not new. These “safe spaces” emerged in the mid-1960s in the United States. They would have first concerned places frequented by people from the LGBT+ community, then feminist movements, before extending to other marginalized populations.

‍

For Asmaa Ibnouzahir, it is obvious that a new generation of Muslims is looking for alternative spaces to debate or discuss delicate issues related to their faith or identity. Offering such spaces is in fact one of the missions of its non-profit organization — Institut F — which offers workshops, training and other resources for Muslim women in Quebec.

‍

“I admit that, at first, I was surprised by the age of the members, who are mostly in their early 20s. There is a whole generation of young Muslim women in Quebec who do not recognize themselves or who do not find their voice in existing institutions.” At Institut F, workshops such as RISE (Reflection on Islam, Society and the Empowerment of Women) allow Muslim women to analyze religious texts, discuss them and review them without judgment.

‍

These spaces can also be virtual, private groups on Facebook allowing such exchanges, for example. In the context of lockdown, their relevance is all the greater. In the end, the best space is where speech is free and change takes place.

‍

“Honestly, all the big speeches and public debates will never be as relevant to me as a girls' night out in a living room, where we talk about real business without taboos,” concludes Essraa Daoui.

‍

‍

Unleash and support the word

‍

‍

But care must be taken: safe spaces should not become an obstacle to freedom of expression by silencing those who want to speak more publicly. This is even if we fear the social repercussions of such an initiative.

‍

“Yes, we are victims of external Islamophobia, but there are victims among us as well. We must support them and allow them to express their truth as they wish,” believes Nafissah Rahman, an interpreter and activist in the Bengali community in Montreal.

‍

Asmaa Ibnouzahir, who also ended up giving up the veil, knows something about it. She has made numerous appearances in the media, in addition to publishing a book entitled Chronicles of an Indignant Muslim, published by Fides. In particular, she is throwing arrows at her own community. “It is not a question of being silent or of protecting certain Muslims, who often do not deserve to be protected! On the other hand, there is a way to approach delicate subjects in order to cover all angles”, believes the author.

‍

So when she addresses the issue of sexism in the Muslim community, she wants to place the subject in the larger context of pervasive patriarchy. “After all, battered women's centers and feminicides did not start with Muslim immigration.”

‍

Nafissah Rahman agrees. “No society, no culture is perfect. What is becoming exhausting is that we have a double job to do: educating our community and educating the rest of Quebec society.”

‍

Working with Muslim women in vulnerable situations, Nafissah encourages them to speak up, even when it is annoying or likely to arouse hate. “If you are afraid to speak, if you are ashamed to speak, it creates trauma. It is even our responsibility as Muslims to support each other and to side with the truth,” says the interpreter.

‍

‍

A Muslim Awareness Week for More Humanity

‍

‍

Samira Laouni is one of the women behind Muslim Awareness Week, which takes place every year from 25 to 31 January. Launched following the attack on the Grand Mosque of Quebec in 2017, this initiative is intended to be a constructive, transparent and, above all, human channel for exchange. “In the end, the central message we want to get across is the following: we are all living beings with the same concerns, expectations, aspirations... and challenges”, she summarizes. In addition, it encourages Quebecers of the Muslim faith not to be excessively afraid of scandals that may occur in their community, as in all others.

‍

Geneviève Mercier-Dalphond participated on Tuesday in the panel “A plural and harmonious society, an achievable ideal? ”, organized as part of Muslim Awareness Week. The doctoral student in religions and philosophies at McGill University is working on the impact of hate crimes on Muslims and Muslims in Quebec. For her, one thing is certain: the fear is well-founded.

‍

“There is a correlation between proposed secularism bills, more specifically Bill 21 and the Charter of Values, and the increase in hate crimes. Women (especially veiled) tend to be the first and most frequent victims of daily microaggressions,” she explains. According to data collected from 2010 to 2018 by Statistics Canada, violent hate crimes committed against Indigenous (45%) and Muslim (45%) populations were more likely to target women.

‍

Ms. Mercier-Dalphond also recalls that it is difficult to have real data on this subject because, most of the time, victims do not report hate crimes.

‍

“There is still a lot of work to be done, and as long as there is Islamophobia, you will have to defend yourself in the face of amalgams and accusations. However, I am confident that we will succeed by turning away from false scandals and by devoting our energies to building bridges and launching positive initiatives.”

‍

*Samah Jebbari declined our interview requests.