Two Muslim boys in Switzerland have declined, on religious grounds, to handshake with their female teachers. The school district says Swiss custom should override religion and is now threatening to fine the parents of the boys $5,000 if the boys continue to refuse to comply.
Some years ago, I worked with a male Muslim intern who refused to shake my hand for religious reasons. The experience challenged me to think more deeply about tolerance and diversity, and I think the lessons I learned are worth sharing.
In the summer of 2010, as Director of the Islam and Civil Society Project at the Witherspoon Institute in Princeton, NJ, I hired my first Muslim intern, a young man named Muhammad. I was eager to move beyond studying Islam from a distance and to develop the project into an opportunity for Muslim and non-Muslim Americans to collaborate together as partners on issues of shared concern.
I was impressed by Muhammad’s resume, which included a rigorous education at an excellent college that left him just as prepared to attend graduate school in Islamic studies or medical school (he has since done both). We had never met in person, as the internship had been arranged via e-mail. But on paper, he sure seemed like a rising star.
The first thing that happened when he arrived in Princeton to start his internship was that he refused to shake my hand. The shock was my initial response. I tried to hide how stunned I was, but it was difficult. He was absolutely gracious in declining. I felt angry when he refused to shake my hand just because I am female, but it was hard to be angry at someone who was so kind. It wasn’t even clear to me what or who the object of my confused anger was. He explained that it was due to his religious beliefs that he does not shake women’s hands. Was I, who had hired this intern to help with religious freedom work, going to reject his freedom to follow his religious beliefs?
I suppressed how baffled and worried I felt. I moved right along as if nothing had happened. I welcomed him to the Witherspoon Institute and began introducing him to the work we would be doing that summer. But inside, my head and heart were spinning.
I have zero patience—I mean zero—for misogyny. I’ve had boys in Yemen throw stones at me and another woman. I’ve been treated like a dangerous toxic substance by a Catholic priest who seemed to wish desperately that women just didn’t exist. “Misogyny” is a word I don’t use lightly, but there are times when it is the appropriate descriptor of some men’s attitudes. I could not help but wonder: was misogyny what I was experiencing? What I would be in all summer long?
Yet, because I recognized that I did not understand why this young man refused to shake my hand, I did not jump to conclusions. Instead, I took a “wait-and-see” approach. He was an American. A kid from the Jersey shore. His refusal was religious, not cultural. I realized that I knew almost nothing about this young man. Who was I to judge him? Moreover, I badly needed an assistant at work and had prepared a mighty long to-do list for him. I knew we needed to work together in a spirit of collaboration to get through the busy summer ahead. An antagonistic relationship seemed like it would only get in the way. I swallowed my fears and acted as nothing had happened.
But something had happened: my assumptions about my own tolerance had been jolted with a radical challenge. Was I tolerant enough and sufficiently appreciative of diversity—particularly of religious diversity—to live and let live, even if it made me feel slighted?
That summer with Muhammed, along with subsequent collaboration at the Witherspoon Institute with Orthodox Jewish men who did not shake women’s hands, taught me many lessons.
Lesson one: I was reminded concretely of something I knew abstractly: namely, that Muslims are diverse. This young man was from a particular interpretive school of Shia Islam with which I was not very familiar. In over twenty years of academic studies and professional work related to Islam, I had never met a Muslim who, for religious reasons, would not shake a woman’s hand. Well, here was one. And then I met Orthodox Jewish men who would not shake my hand. And here too I was reminded: Jews are diverse. Moreover, for religious reasons, some Muslim women and some Orthodox Jewish women do not shake men’s hands. Issues of modesty, chastity, and ritual purity can involve both men and women; this is not just an issue of male attitudes toward women.
Lesson two: the reasons some religious men do not have social physical contact with women outside of their direct families should not always be reduced to misogyny. Where there is actual misogyny, it is something to be taken seriously. But painting all males with a broad brush is neither fair nor accurate. Men should be given the opportunity to speak for themselves, to explain their own thoughts, intentions, and consciences.
Lesson three: refusal to have physical contact with women is not necessarily equivalent to a refusal to recognize that women have professional abilities. This intern had absolutely no problem having a woman as his boss that summer. He was eager to assist me, and he always listened attentively to directions I gave him. He consistently did an excellent job carrying out the tasks I assigned to him.
Lesson four: refusal to have physical contact with women is not necessarily equivalent to a refusal to recognize that women have intellectual abilities. That summer, starting from that very first day, this intern and I had fantastic discussions about some of the greatest minds in Muslim intellectual history. He asked me lots of questions about my dissertation and treated me as a person from whom he thought he might learn something. He gave me brilliant reading recommendations in modern Islamic theology, all of them profound and challenging sources. He never treated me as if he thought I was stupid. Never.
Muhammad was a fantastic intern. We were lucky to have him work with us that summer at the Witherspoon Institute. He was a delightful colleague for all of us at the Institute and, significantly, he treated all the women with respect.
While I do not know the particular reasons for the refusal of the two Syrian boys in Switzerland to shake women’s hands, I can’t help but think of my intern Muhammad. After his internship, he went on to do a Master’s Degree at Harvard in Islamic theology, and now he is in medical school preparing to serve others in society as a doctor. As an American, I feel my country is lucky to have such a talented man, who values public service, as a citizen. If these two boys are even half as talented and kind as Muhammad, the loss will be Switzerland’s if this family cannot stay there.
I can’t say that I genuinely understand why Muhammad won’t shake women’s hands, but having to live without fully understanding is something that I think comes with the territory of genuine diversity. Muhammad allows me the freedom to shake the hands of men who choose to partake of this cultural practice, and I allow him the freedom not to.
The principle of religious freedom demands that we allow space in our society for the difference. Genuine tolerance allows for the difference. Of course, this is something quite different from trying to pass off the imposition of the cultural norms of those who are in power as “tolerance” simply by labeling it so. I hope that the Swiss government is able to tell the difference between the two—not only for the sake of those boys and their families but for the sake of their own society.
Jennifer S. Bryson, PhD, is Director of Operations and Development at the Center for Islam and Religious Freedom in Washington, DC.
Refrences:
It was a typical day. I woke up early before my parents and got ready to go running in the park near our house. Running without music seemed almost impossible to me; it seemed as though my body responded to physical activities better when music was playing through my ears. My iPod was full of my favorite songs and was ready to flow energy into my feet. I pressed the round button of play but... what was it playing? I have never heard such a thing! Never put it on my iPod! My finger slipped on the left arrow to skip it, but something stopped it. It was The Miracle of Words...
It wasn't a song or poem; someone was reciting some words with a very fascinating and melodious rhythm. I couldn't make out the words, never heard the language spoken in it. However, its effect was so strong that for a second, I couldn't move. It seemed as if I had been exposed to an electric shock. I replayed it a thousand times, and each time my feelings arose stronger than before.
I rushed home to find out who the writer of these words was and who was reciting them and more importantly who put it on my iPod. The latter mystery was solved quite easily; I’d downloaded it from the net instead of another song, but how I’d made such a mistake, I never found out.
To find the writer of those words, I didn't know where to search. Since I didn't understand it and didn't know the language, I couldn't search for it on the net. So I decided to play it for my father who knew some languages. He recognized it instantly...
The day after the incident, I went to the nearest bookshop and to the surprise of the shopkeeper, I bought the book-of course the English translation- that carried those enchanting words. I couldn't wait longer, so the second that he handed me the book I started reading it.
The content was deep and compelling, however, the feeling that I experienced by hearing the original words did not arise in me by reading the translation. But the book still was so absorbing that I finished it in a matter of days.
I wasn't satisfied. I had to figure out the secret of the original words. It became a matter of life and death for me; I had to pursue it, or my life would have lost its meaning. So, I decided to learn the language of the book. It was a very formidable decision since the language was not in the least like my own and it was considered to be one of the hardest languages in the world.
Nevertheless, I found a place and started learning it. It took me months to be able to read some words of the book and understand their meaning, however, the more I learned, the more voracious I became in following the path I had chosen.
Gradually, I came to realize some of the extraordinary aspects of the word choice of that book. The words were chosen based on a careful and precise symmetry as well as coordination; they were irreplaceable since they were so firmly bound together both in meaning and tone. If you had replaced a word with its close synonym, the whole sentence and even the entire part would have become inconsistent and wouldn’t have had the same effect at all.
Moreover, the careful choice of the words in each part had a direct influence over the tone of that part; sometimes cautionary and awakening, sometimes annunciatory and promising, and in both cases pierces instantly into your heart. Reading the words makes you feel like you are reciting a melodious poem written in prose style, yet no poem or prose could be considered equal to it.
In a few months, the charm of the Quran’s words changed me into a whole new person; from an aimless and disconcerted girl to one whose purpose is as clear as daylight, full of hope and positivity. This experience that marked a turning point in my life came to me as a miracle; you too can go on the same journey and find your way out; just hear these words once and feel the difference by yourself.
References:
- Mohammad Hadi Ma'arefat. Qur’anic sciences. Qom: Al tahmid, 1381.
- new muslim
The current of life can drag you to a place you would never think of going. Our fate is not in our hands, although it would seem to be; in its very veins are traces of handprint totally in contrast to ours. I have learned this wonderful truth in my own personal laboratory called life.
My spiritual adventure started when I was a teenager. Worldly life gave me no fulfillment so I turned my head to a different road-“Religion”. I joined the Born-again movement and was very enthusiastic. My passion brought me to full time ministry and I was trained to become a Pastor.
Years went by, the challenges and my personal assessment in the church led me to question my faith. What came after was years spent in struggle that eventually led me to distance myself away from the church and into the worldly life once again. But maybe because I was really searching for fulfillment my craving for spirituality continued. This time I experimented with other religions: Vaisnavism (a branch of Hinduism), new age philosophy, Buddhism then Islam.
What I found in Islam was totally different from what I heard in the news and saw in the movies. I discovered that it is a religion of peace that seeks the betterment of society. The laws and moral codes are there to forge equality, justice, and dignity among the people. Islam dwells more on solving real life issues than ecclesiastical doctrines by providing practical solutions. […] By the guidance of Allah I was able to find one here in Cebu, Alhamdulillah!
Now I am training to become a good Daa’ee (propagator of Islam). The more I read about Islam the more I am falling in love with it. There are more jewels to be discovered as long as we stay focused and look for solutions rather than burying our hands in the mud of negativity. As long as we are determined, we will be successful. Ameen! Ameen! Ameen!
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