A Discussion with Ayse Kadayifci-Orellana, Associate Director, Salaam Institute, American University

With: Ayse Kadayifci-Orellana Berkley Center Profile

May 18, 2010

Background: This May 2010 exchange between Ayse Kadayifci-Orellana and Susan Hayward focuses on Dr. Kadayifci-Orellan's experience leading workshops on Islamic peacemaking in the Middle East, as well as her observations of women's roles, absences, and strengths for peacemaking. She also reflects on the challenges women religious peacemakers face and gulfs that separate secular and religious women working for empowerment and peace.

Tell me about how you became interested in the intersection of religion and conflict resolution.

I became interested in the conflict resolution field when I was an exchange student in Australia when I was 17 years old. I came from a small town in Turkey and was thirsty for new experiences and to visit new places. But while in Australia, I was constantly bombarded by questions… for example, about the Armenian genocide and so on. I became interested in how different cultures and communities interact, and how conflict relates to that. So I changed my focus of study to international conflict resolution when I returned home. But I never thought I would do anything with religion originally. It didn’t really occur to me that this was possible.

Religion wasn’t an important part of our family life growing up, though it was always there in the background, part of daily life. It was important, but it was not emphasized. It was more of a culture, part of the routine, but my family never felt the need to emphasize it when interacting with others. We celebrated religious holidays, prayed, fasted. My grandmothers prayed five times a day; one was a student of Sufism (Tasawwuf). Islam was always present. But these were just things we did naturally. We didn’t put a lot of attention on this; we didn’t talk about it much. I grew up in a secular and religious family.

What does this distinction mean to you—to be both secular and religious?

My family believed in and followed Islam—all my family. But we believe that religion should be separated from the state. So we were secular politically. We believed religion should be part of personal, daily life, that it is a part of culture. My great-grandfather was a scholar of Islamic international law in the nineteenth century, but I didn’t know about this growing up. So Islam was a quiet part of our life.

I did my master’s degree in England in a very secular program. When I came to the United States to study for my doctorate, I wanted to focus on the Israeli/Palestinian conflict. I did not think I would look at religion. I did not anticipate that. What made me more aware of these issues was, first, that the more I studied the conflict, the more I became aware of the religious element to the conflict. But second was my own personal experience living in the United States. Here, the stereotype of the Muslim woman was very different from what I looked like. So it became as if no one believed I was Muslim. I became more conscious of my religious identity. And the negative stereotypes about Islam I encountered made me more curious about the role of understanding religion in culture. I was bothered that people did not believe I was Muslim—that I was not seen as a “real” Muslim.

I was also struck by the different varieties of Islam I encountered in the United States. I thought there was one understanding of Islam. I wasn’t conscious of different interpretations of the texts. Seeing how other Muslims interpreted and interacted with the tradition made me more conscious of my own tradition. For example, the debate between different schools of thought in Islam about whether women should wear hijab. This was a debate I was familiar with coming from Turkey, but there it had been between secular and religious Muslims, rather than spoken as a debate between different interpretative traditions amongst devout Muslims.

But also in going to India, I experienced how women could not enter the mosque. And when I went to the West Bank the way they understood Islam was different. So through my travels too, as I became more involved in international conflict resolution, I was exposed to different varieties of Islam, and that made me more aware of where in the tradition I stood.

I felt my identity as a Muslim woman was delegitimized by both sides—by American non-Muslims and by other Muslims. Both sides were telling me I didn’t look or act like a “good” Muslim. I felt that no one would have questioned my Muslim faith if I were not a woman. It was all about how I looked, my dress, because I don’t cover my hair, because I am more liberal. I felt that if I were a man, neither side would have questioned my faith. All of these experiences made me more faithful, in a way, more deeply aware of and connected to my own Muslim identity and faith.

I am also part of an interfaith family. Some of my husband’s family represents a more conservative form of Christianity. Our wedding was just after 9/11, and there were some tensions and concerns from them. So I was directly experiencing interfaith tensions.

And so as a student at American University, I became more and more drawn to the study of religion. How religion plays a role in identity construction, dynamics of religious identities, what it means to be Muslim, and a Muslim woman.

I became interested in Islam and peace because I was studying under Professor Abdul Aziz Said, who focused on this. Under him I looked at how Islam influences the attitudes and behaviors of Muslim people. But I was not particularly interested in women and Islam. I was interested in Islam and peace.

How did you come to the study of how women and Islamic peacemaking?

Through my own experiences as a Muslim woman living in the United States, and then as a woman involved in international conflict resolution.

My interest was piqued in doing workshops in various countries, from Saudi Arabia, to the West Bank, to Iran. Not many women would do this work—conflict resolution work, training from a Muslim perspective. There are some, Marci Moberg for example, younger people. But most of the time I was the only woman in the group, especially when working with religious clergy, especially when working on the specific topic of Islamic practices of conflict resolution. So I was very self-conscious about how I would be perceived doing some of these trainings by these participants. I was working with many Islamic scholars, community leaders like imams. In Iran we were looking at differences in Sunni and Shi'a perspectives on justice and peacemaking. In Saudi Arabia also… I mean, I also had my own stereotypes about other Muslim countries coming from Turkey and the United States. I was positively surprised both in Iran and Saudi Arabia. I have met religious leaders who are very open, encouraging, and receptive to me.

I also had the opportunity in these trips to meet a lot of Muslim women who are actively engaged—maybe not all academically, but in their communities. I became very much interested in trying to understand the challenges they face. Also, their unique approaches. Because they were not always engaged at the formal tracks of peacemaking, they had created informal mechanisms and processes. It was very interesting. I also found them to be very creative, to have a very good understanding of social dynamics. They were very knowledgeable and very impressive. And because I was a woman, I always had access to them. Many of our male trainers have not necessarily been able to engage or have access to women’s communities in the same way. In Saudi Arabia, we went to visit the women’s campus. The men were not allowed in, so I visited.

I think that the young generation of women will be, and are already, more engaged in this sort of work. But my experience so far has been mainly with men. I did have the opportunity recently to meet women (both M.A. students and lecturers) in Darfur who were passionate, creative, and analytical. They were self-confident, very well informed, and really committed to peacemaking and finding ways to resolve the conflicts in their communities.

What do you have in mind when you say women are involved informally in peacemaking?

In my experience, because religious leaders tend to be men, official religious leaders, women are easily excluded—particularly when conducting official forms of interfaith dialogue. For example, it is only recently that there are female imams in certain Muslim countries. But by and large women’s work or dialogue has primarily focused on issues related to women and children.

Also, politically there have been Muslim women leaders, but the majority are men. There is an attempt to increase the number of women involved in political decision-making. But according to UNDP, the rate of women involved in official governance is lowest across the Middle East. I believe it was 3 percent for the Middle East, and something like 30 percent for Africa.

Although more women are trying to become politically active in the Muslim world, women seem to be more involved in peacemaking through NGOs, women’s associations, organizing among themselves to address issues that impact their communities, or talk to elders, religious leaders, or political leaders as mothers, sisters, daughters, and wives, etc. Although there are not many women in official negotiations, many women use their social and cultural power to influence those in power.

Can you offer an example of a woman who has been using religion in her peacemaking, and how she has used it for specific problem-solving?

I have studied the work of women who are engaged in peacemaking roles in my academic work. Religion is part of the process—the stories they tell, the values they draw from.

In terms of specifics, I met a conservative religious woman from Iraq in a workshop I did. She was one of the participants. As we were talking about nonviolent movements in Iraq, she was recalling the movement that occurred when she was a child. She became an inspiration to the group. She was speaking to the younger generation in the room and instilling a sort of hope in them, an optimism. And she was doing this through religion—with her examples. This was a workshop that was exclusively for women.

I also met some women in the West Bank who work in the refugee camps, and they are trying to address conflict through traditional mechanisms. I had a student from Kurdish Iraq, and his mother was one of the traditional community leaders who provided conflict resolution. She provided shura. I believe she was not officially trained to be shura—it was not part of her family line. But the community recognized her capacity to do this because of her personal qualities.

Also some of the women I met in Darfur, Sudan have been talking about how to address the conflict in their communities. They were particularly concerned about the role of hakkama (women who sing songs to incite men to fight) in their communities, among others. They were also interested in finding ways to influence official mediation and negotiation processes. But at that moment it seemed that they did not have access to that opportunity.

What do you see as some of the biggest challenges for women involved in religious peacemaking?

I think one of the biggest challenges is that their role is often not recognized in their communities. They have to make an extra effort, and they often lack confidence to do this. Older women seem to gain confidence through their wisdom and experience. And I get the impression that younger women are more empowered and emboldened to take leadership roles. But the women in the generation between them struggle.

I also get the impression that women have an easier time connecting with women from other communities—reaching across divides. They focus on the human experience, the shared experience. They find ways to connect on shared experiences and concerns. In my experience, this plays a role in building bridges. But sometimes it is not easy for them to reach out—they do not have access to engage other communities. Also, in doing this work, they become easier targets in their communities, in some societies, though not all. In Afghanistan, women’s mobility has been limited, and so that limits their ability to do this work.

I think another challenge is if they try to change some of the traditional structures, they are seen as traitors and as “Westernized.” Some of the Western women’s organizations have identified Islam as a problem rather than a resource. They see women’s liberation in opposition to Islam. They view Islam as an oppressive force. So when women try to challenge Islam, even from their own religious contexts, from their own place as faith, as devout Muslim women, they are accused of being a part of these Western feminist anti-Islam groups. They are delegitimized in this way, and it is a major challenge.

Another challenge for religious women is from secularists in their own communities. This is especially true in Turkey. If you identify yourself as a Muslim actor, you are automatically seen as against political secularism. So there is an internal challenge—with education, city centers—they are often associated with secularists, although more and more religious girls enter universities and work in cities. Whereas, if you are religious, you are seen as a backward, uneducated, lower-class, traditional villager. In my observation, many of the secularists (some call them radical secularists) have internalized the orientalist discourse and project it onto those who are associated with village, religion and tradition. So there is a self-orientalization which creates a deep divide.

There is also a class dimension to it. There are biases and negative images of the other. The religious women are accused of being unintelligent. For example, while I was doing research on the divide between radical secularists and religious women, I came across a video of a gathering held by the university women in Turkey, where participants shared their fears, perceptions regarding the other, and discussed strategies on how to eliminate this threat. In the video, one of the participants confessed: “I cannot digest the fact that these girls with their shiny clean headscarves are walking by me.” Another commented on the political party the lady who cleans her house voted for. She conveyed that her cleaning lady stated that she voted for the AK [Justice and Development] Party because of the things they say they do and for stability. Then in a derogatory and enraged manner, indicating that her cleaning lady, due to her uncultured, uneducated background, cannot possibly make the ‘right’ decision, the participant exclaimed “Istikrar senin neyine Vesayet! [What would you know about stability, Vesayet {her name}]?” I have heard very similar comments and attitudes among many of my colleagues and friends in Turkey and elsewhere. But this attitude creates resentment and a mirror image of the secularists as the other, who are associated with Westernization, imperialism, colonialism, etc. Such attitudes and perceptions create artificial boundaries and separate women into camps, which adopt extremist positions and prevent women to come together on shared issues. This, I think, is a major internal challenge which creates more conflict rather than peace.

How do you think outsiders can be most supportive of local women’s religious peacemaking efforts?

I think it is crucial for outsiders to listen to the women in these communities and try to understand how they view things, what they think their needs are, rather than telling them how to address their conflicts. I think some of the initial feminist organizations that have worked in the Muslim world had that attitude and failed to listen and understand the women in these communities.

Having an honest and respectful conversation and a learning attitude can really go a long way. This would also help them understand what are the challenges and opportunities available for women’s religious peacemaking in their own context. Based on mutual consultation, outsiders and local women can decide on what specific ways they can collaborate and work together to address the challenges they face, how they can improve their role, and also to learn from each other. So in my opinion, there is no one way to assist local women in their efforts, and it must be decided case by case. But spending enough time and effort to build trust, having a respectful and learning attitude, is the most constructive approach outsiders can take.

What distinguishes women’s religious peacemaking, if anything, from traditional or male-dominated religious peacemaking or initiatives led by [secular] women that do not engage religious resources?

I think what distinguishes them from secular and traditional approaches are the sources of inspiration, their faith and spirituality. They see their faith as a source of their power and commitment to peace. In my experience, I have observed many of these women see their peace work as a service to God, which keeps them motivated to continue despite the challenges they face.

In my opinion, what differs religious women’s peacemaking from their male counterparts is their unique experiences, in some cases their marginalization from formal mechanisms. These experiences lead them to develop a unique perspective on issues relating to peacemaking. Also, women’s and men’s experiences are often different at times of conflicts. Traditionally women’s needs and issues have not been addressed at times of conflict. At times it may not be easy for women to discuss some of these experiences and needs with men. Women and girls may feel more comfortable talking to other women about these issues, especially those women who have an understanding about religious tradition. Women religious peacemakers are in a position to combine these needs and issues with their religious perspectives.

How do you think a focus on women’s religious peacemaking might challenge or reshape the normative theoretical or practical field of religious peacemaking?

I think it will first lead us to re-examine our categories, such as what is religious, what is peacemaking, etc. Also we need to be wary of not categorizing all women’s religious peacemaking into one category, but understand differences between them. Even within the same community of women of faith, there are many differences in the way they understand peace and their religious tradition. Age, personal experiences, ethnicity, and race are also categories that may play an important role for the construction of identity of these women. Understanding these differences and constructively managing these complexities are critical for a sound theoretical perspective.

In terms of practice, it might be harder to change long-standing traditional structures that have marginalized women. However, it is not impossible, and we see the examples of these changes taking place in different religious traditions, including Muslim women. Also this perspective [that focuses on empowering local women’s religious peacemaking] implicitly sees marginalization of women in religious peacemaking as problematic in most cases. This may be seen as a novelty and may be resisted by some women. It may even be perceived in some Muslim communities as another way of Western colonization, which attempts to “change Islam and Muslims.” This may be another challenge faced in practical terms.

Also, it is important to provide constant and long-term support for women who take risks in their communities at times. A short-lived external support can be more harmful in some cases, so providing sustainable support for a long time may be another challenge in practical terms.

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