The Caged Virgin - Ayaan Hirsi Ali [5]
My own criticism of Islamic religion and culture is felt by some to be “harsh,” “offensive,” and “hurtful.” But the attitude of the cultural experts is, in fact, harsher, and more offensive and hurtful. They feel superior and do not regard Muslims as equal discussion partners, but as the “others” who should be shielded. And they think that criticism of Islam should be avoided because they are afraid that Muslims can only respond to criticism with anger and violence. These cultural experts are badly letting down us Muslims who have obeyed the call to show our sense of public responsibility and are speaking out.
I have taken an enormous risk by answering the call for self-reflection and by joining in the public debate that has been taking place in the West since 9/11. And what do the cultural experts say? “You should have said it in a different way.” But since Theo van Gogh’s death, I have been convinced more than ever that I must say it in my way only and have my criticism.
One
Stand Up for Your Rights!
Women in Islam
I was born in Somalia in 1969 and raised in an Islamic family. My father, Hirsi Magan, is a well-known opposition leader who challenged the dictatorship of Mohamed Siad Barre. Probably in 1975 or 1976, he was forced to flee Somalia, and our family followed him. Via Saudi Arabia and Ethiopia, we reached Kenya.
At age twenty-two, as a Muslim young woman, I was given in marriage to a distant cousin, a nephew of my father’s. Had we been married, I would have lived out my days in isolation as a housewife and mother. But I refused to attend the wedding ceremony, which was to be held in Canada, and shortly afterward I escaped to the Netherlands. There, I applied for and was granted asylum, learned Dutch, worked as an interpreter in a number of places—including abortion clinics and women’s refuge centers—and took a degree in political science.
That was ten years ago. In the Netherlands, I am able to study and work. I can also voice my opinion here. Through newspapers, magazines, television, and radio, I have criticized Islam and the Islamic community. My comments stir up strong feelings. The attention I strove to give to the plight of Muslim women in the Netherlands and Western Europe led to my becoming a parliamentary representative, at first for the Labor Party and, after October 2002, for the Liberal Party. My change of parties also stirred up strong feelings. In the United States, it would have been analogous to switching from the Democratic Party to the Republican. Some of my former party felt betrayed by my switch, but I viewed it as a practical matter. I believe I have more support in the Liberal Party for my mission to help Muslim women.
I am often asked why I, in particular, am so critical of Islam and of the position of women within Islam. I am accused of discrediting that religion through my opinions and comments. Allegedly, I portray all Muslim men as “stupid and violent louts who repress their women.” I am further blamed for playing into the hands of populists and racists, who will misuse my opinions to repress Muslims. Yet I continue to feel compelled to speak out against the way women are treated within the Muslim community. There are four reasons that I do this.
I hope to be able to make a contribution to ending the degrading treatment of Muslim women and girls by using my knowledge and experience of the Muslim faith. I am a passionate believer in universal human rights. As a member of the board of directors of Amnesty International, I am distressed that the vast majority of Muslim women are still enchained by the doctrine of virginity, which requires that women enter marriage as green as grass: experience of love and sexuality before marriage is an absolute taboo. This taboo does not apply to men. Furthermore,