Joining a Dinner in a Muslim Brotherhood Home

By: Nicholas D. Kristof

If you want to understand the Islamic forces that are gaining strength in Egypt and scaring people here and abroad, let me tell you about my dinner in the home of Muslim Brotherhood activists.

First, meet my hostess: Sondos Asem, a 24-year-old woman who is pretty much the opposite of the stereotypical bearded Brotherhood activist. Sondos is a middle-class graduate of the American University in Cairo, where I studied in the early 1980s (“that’s before I was born,” she said wonderingly, making me feel particularly decrepit).

She speaks perfect English, is writing a master’s thesis on social media, and helps run the Brotherhood’s English-language Twitter feed, @Ikhwanweb.

The Muslim Brotherhood has emerged as the dominant political party in parliamentary voting because of people like Sondos and her family. My interviews with supporters suggest that the Brotherhood is far more complex than the caricature that scares many Americans.

Sondos rails at the Western presumption that the Muslim Brotherhood would oppress women. She notes that her own mother, Manal Abul Hassan, is one of many female Muslim Brotherhood-affiliated candidates running for Parliament.

“It’s a big misconception that the Muslim Brotherhood marginalizes women,” Sondos said. “Fifty percent of the Brotherhood are women.”

I told Sondos that Westerners are fearful partly because they have watched the authorities oppress women in the name of Islam in countries such as Saudi Arabia, Iran and Afghanistan.

“I don’t think Egypt can ever be compared to Saudi Arabia or Iran or Afghanistan,” she replied. “We, as Egyptians, are religiously very moderate.” A much better model for Egypt, she said, is Turkey, where an Islamic party is presiding over an economic boom.

I asked about female circumcision, also called female genital mutilation, which is inflicted on the overwhelming majority of girls in Egypt. It is particularly common in conservative religious households and, to its credit, the Mubarak government made some effort to stop the practice. Many worry that a more democratic government won’t challenge a practice that has broad support.

“The Muslim Brotherhood is against the brutal practice of female circumcision,” Sondos said bluntly. She insisted that women over all would benefit from Brotherhood policies that focus on the poor: “We believe that a solution of women’s problems in Egyptian society is to solve the real causes, which are illiteracy, poverty and lack of education.”

I asked skeptically about alcohol, peace with Israel, and the veil. Sondos, who wears a hijab, insisted that the Brotherhood wasn’t considering any changes in these areas and that its priority is simply jobs.

“Egyptians are now concerned about economic conditions,” she said. “They want to reform their economic system and to have jobs. They want to eliminate corruption.” Noting that alcohol supports the tourism industry, she added: “I don’t think any upcoming government will focus on banning anything.”

I told her that I would feel more reassured if some of my liberal Egyptian friends were not so wary of the Brotherhood. Some warn that the Brotherhood may be soothing today but that it has a violent and intolerant streak — and is utterly inexperienced in managing a modern economy.

Sondos looked exasperated. “We embrace moderate Islam,” she said. “We are not the ultra-conservatives that people in the West envision.”

I heard similar reassurances from other Brotherhood figures I interviewed, and I’m not sure what to think. But opinions vary, and I’m struck by the optimism I heard in some secular quarters: from Dr. Nawal El Saadawi, an 80-year-old leftist who is a hero of Egyptian feminism, and from Ahmed Zewail, the Egyptian-American scientist who won a Nobel Prize and is passionate about education.

Amr Moussa, a former foreign minister and Arab League secretary general who is a front-runner in the race for president, was similarly optimistic. He told me that whatever unfolds, Egypt will continue to seek good relations with the United States and will unquestionably stand by its peace treaty with Israel.

“You cannot conduct an adventurous foreign policy when you rebuild a country,” he said. “We must have the best of relations with the United States.”

When I raised American concerns that Egypt under the Muslim Brotherhood and the more extremist Salafis might replicate Iran, he was dismissive: “The experience of Iran will not be repeated in Egypt.”

I think he’s right. Revolutions are often messy, and it took Americans seven years from their victory in the American Revolution at Yorktown to get a ratified Constitution. Indonesia, after its 1998 revolution, felt very much like Egypt does today. It endured upheavals from a fundamentalist Islamic current, yet it pulled through.

So a bit of nervousness is fine, but let’s not overdo the hand-wringing — or lose perspective. What’s historic in Egypt today is not so much the rise of any one party as the apparent slow emergence of democracy in the heart of the Arab world.

Zainab al-Ghazali: Lady with a Mission

The year is 1966. A middle-aged woman sits in an Egyptian military prison, awaiting the torture sessions that have become part of her daily routine. She recites verses from the Qur’an, sentences of classical Arabic which have been repeated endlessly, but which never lose meaning. Bismillah al-Rahman al Raheem. She is among the top leaders of the Muslim Brotherhood, a social organization which seeks to Islamize Egyptian society and government. She is imprisoned on charges of sedition and conspiring to assassinate President Gamal ‘Abd al-Nasser. She denies these charges, and while other members of the Brotherhood are weakened into submission through torture, every crack of the whip only serves to strengthen her resolve. The year is 1981. A woman in her mid-sixties sits at a publishing desk for al-Da’wah magazine, a publication of the Muslim Brotherhood. She is the editor of a women’s column for the magazine, and writes articles on the domestic nature of females and on the importance of motherhood and wifedom for Muslim women. When she is not writing, she lectures on the Islamic call, al-da’wah, the social movement whose participants seek Islam as a way of life, not merely a religion. Bismillah al-Rahman al Raheem. She speaks publicly on the important role which mothers and wives have in forwarding the Islamic nation. Return to the home, she encourages her female audience, and do not work outside the home unless there is dire need. These are two stories, but they speak of only one woman. She is Zainab al-Ghazali, Leader of The Muslim Brotherhood and one of the most controversial female Muslim figures of The 20th century. Born in 1917 into the household of a local religious leader, she was inculcated With the importance of religion in everyday life. From an early age her father encouraged her to be a strong woman, and a leader who embraced Islam and the indigenous traditions of Egypt. al- Ghazali emerged into Egyptian society at a time of great upheaval for women and the nation as a whole. The Wafd revolution of 1919 had granted Egypt nominal independence from Great Britain, but the nationalist movement continued to fight for true sovereignty throughout al- Ghazali’s formative years. The nationalist movement was largely dependent on the mobilization of Egyptian women, whose participation marked a dramatic shift in social norms regarding women and their role in public life. The late nineteenth century had witnessed an awakening of a feminist conscious among men and women within the elite classes of Egypt. This phenomenon was largely a nationalist reaction against colonial arguments that often used the “oppression” and “subjugation” of Muslim women as a cause for British control of Egypt. However, this colonial mission to “emancipate” the women of Egypt was more a tool of political propaganda than it was a feminist crusade. Lord Cromer—the British counsel of Egypt during the early twentieth century—must have been concerned for the political emancipation of only Egyptian women, as he was a well-known staunch opponent of the women’s suffrage movement back in Great Britain.Disproving the widespread belief that Egyptian women were helpless and desperate for the guidance of British tutelage, female activists began to mobilize behind the nationalist movement. Continuing the previous movements for women’s political and educational rights—led by such activists as Nabawiyya Musa and Malak Hifni Nasif—the nationalist movement proved to be another medium in which Egyptian women could assert their social agency. The mass participation of women within the nationalist movement changed the traditional gender Landscape, as women moved from the margins to the heart of society. It was no longer a question of whether or not women should be freed from the traditional patriarchy that governed Egyptian Society—not unlike the British society of Lord Cromer—but rather what path should such an Emancipation follow.

 and work of one of the first Islamist feminists. Entering the fertile scene of the Egyptian nationalist/women’s movement, Zainab al- Ghazali gained an early exposure to women’s activism and participation in public space. Joining the Egyptian Feminist Union when she was no more than eighteen, she was exposed to the ideology of Egyptian women who favored emulation of the west and a secularization of women’s roles in society. However, al-Ghazali quickly became frustrated with the EFU’s methods, believing that its members rejected Islam as a guide to defining the role of women in society. She quit the organization, and went on to establish the Jamiat Al-Sayyidat-al-Muslimeen, or, Muslim Ladies Association in 1936. Correcting what al-Ghazali had seen to be the fatal flaw of the EFU, she and the MLA encouraged women to seek religion as a means to personal agency and as a source of advancement. While  al-Ghazali insisted upon the independence of the MLA from the Muslim Brotherhood, she was closely affiliated with the larger Islamist organization and was among the top leaders within the Egyptian da’wah movement. While specifically concerned with the role of women in society, al-Ghazali dedicated herself to the da’wah movement as a whole. She criticized “westernized” feminists for devoting themselves only to “women’s issues,” arguing that not only was it impossible to separate the issues of women from those of society at large, but that in fact such specifications only weakened the community and ignored comprehensive ailments of society.8 As a da’iya, al- Ghazali was passionate about spreading Islam to all sectors of society, as well as devoted to teaching the benefits that she believed Islam would bring to Egypt. While she had been married at a young age, she quickly divorced her husband whom she remembered as trying to impede her da’wah activities.With no children from her first marriage, she was able to fully devote herself  to the work of the MLA and the Muslim Brotherhood until she married again. Her steadfast  dedication to al-da’wah was again demonstrated by her insistence that the contract for her second marriage stipulate that her new husband could not prohibit or prevent al-Ghazali’s activism. Such actions prove not only her commitment to the Islamist movement, but also demonstrate her beliefs in the personal agency of wives, and women. With a tamed husband and no children, al-Ghazali was able to fully dedicate herself to the life of public leadership at which she excelled. After the military coup of 1952, the newly empowered secular-nationalists—led by Gamal ‘Abd al-Nasser—targeted the Muslim Brotherhood and its Islamist ideology as a threat to their newly secured power. Accused of sedition, hundreds of Muslim Brothers were imprisoned or assassinated, crippling the leadership apparatus of the organization. Accused of conspiring to assassinate the president, al-Ghazali herself was incarcerated in a military prison before being transferred to the all-women’s prison of al-Qanatir. Before her transfer, she was subjected to      heinous torture and inhumanity, described in her memoir Return of the Pharaoh. Her leadership within the Brotherhood had made her a target, and she bravely withstood the consequences of such activism. Because of her commitment to the da’wah movement, al-Ghazali is considered amongst many Islamists to be a mujahida—a fighter in the path of God. She is remembered as a bold, courageous, and outspoken woman who thrived in the male-dominated scene of politics and religious activism. Therefore, it may seem slightly incongruous to recall that this mujahida is the same woman who exhorted women to remain in the home, and take up the domestic roles of wife and mother. It is the recollection of this anecdote which richens the story of al-Ghazali. For at face value it seems that by promoting domesticity for women, she somehow rejected the life of public activism which she led. As an editor for a column within al-Da’wah magazine, al-Ghazali had the opportunity to write numerous articles to women who wished to contribute to, or participate within, the Islamist movement. Given the life choices and experiences of the author, one might expect that such articles would promote the public activism and participation of women within the da’wah activities. Indeed, al-Ghazali encouraged her female—and male audience—to dedicate themselves to Islam and the Islamization of society. However, for her female readers, al-Ghazali specified that their participation be defined primarily within their natural roles as mothers and wives of the male fighters, al-mujahideen. While she herself acted on the stage of the da’wah movement, it seems she preferred that other women to work behind the scene. While she herself lived a life amongst men in the public sphere of politics and leadership, she encouraged Muslim women to return to domesticity, protecting and maintaining the base of Islamic society: the home and family. While contemporary western feminists may praise her life as having defied patriarchal social structure and for having claimed a public space, al-Ghazali rejected those western feminists, believing them to be corruptive to tradition and religion. This perceived disjuncture between the rhetoric and action of al-Ghazali is the root of the controversy that surrounds her. However, it is also the key to understanding the ideological syncretism that she represents. Scholars in search of recognizable traces of western feminism in the Islamic world are tempted by al-Ghazali’s life of activism and leadership, but are befuddled by her subscription to the cult of domesticity. Even more problematic for some is the fact that al- Ghazali is not an anomaly within the community of Egyptian Muslim women. Her ideological blend of conservatism, nationalism, feminism, and spirituality may be the guiding principle of many Islamist women today. She, and her inheritors, are conservative in their efforts to maintain religious and social traditions amidst the changing landscape of a modernizing society. They subscribe to nationalist sentiments in their rejection of western imperialism and its legacy, supporting the independence of Egyptians and complete sovereignty of Muslims. Thirdly, it is impossible to deny the sinews of feminist thought within the discourse of al-Ghazali, as she demanded the respect and rights of women within Islam and society as a whole. Finally, al- Ghazali and her successors are unwavering in their commitment to Islamism, striving for the panacea believed to be found in a collective and individual return to religion.. Understanding al- Ghazali is key to understanding the Islamists women of contemporary Egypt, their international counterparts, and their commitment to an ideology which seems at best contradicted and at worst misogynist to the ethnocentric eyes of some western feminists. 

This awakening, nahdah, resulted in the establishment of two schools of thought regarding the advancement of women: those who sought “westernization” of society, and those who sought “Islamization.” Each feminist camp viewed the other as the enemy. Although cautious of attacking Islam, “westernized” feminists argued that incorrectly-interpreted Islamic traditions were the root of the women’s oppression, citing the seclusion of women, harem, to be a religious institution. On the other hand, the Islamists viewed the subjugation of women to be a product of the lack of religion in society. They contrasted the lack of women’s education with the Qur’anic stipulated rights of education for women. These “westernized” and “Islamist” feminist movements were not the cleanly formed binary that their titles suggest. The “westernized” feminists, led by Huda Sha’wari and the Egyptian Feminist Union, considered themselves to be indigenous Muslim reformers who were not “betraying” their culture to British imperialism. Likewise, “Islamist” feminists, represented by Zainab al-Ghazali, were not devoid of influence from European encounters. It is likely that most Egyptians subscribed partially to aspects of both camps. While the “westernized” and “Islamist” feminists can not be so easily separated, historical hindsight has proven that the “westernized” feminism of Sha’wari achieved a monopoly over the Egyptian women’s movement during the first half of the twentieth century. However, it now appears that the feminism of al-Ghazali has gained popularity amongst the contemporary women of Egypt. This is a phenomenon that demands a re-inspection of the life