What does it mean to be a third world woman? Sometimes I feel like I can’t speak because I’m so overwhelmed by everything surrounding me. Sometimes I scream and it feels like lava is coating my throat and I am burning from the inside out. But most of the time, I am too exhausted from the constant fighting to keep pushing, keep struggling. Unfortunately, there is no other option. You can commend me and other marginalised women for our bravery and fight, but let’s acknowledge that there is no other option. I appreciate your support and thoughtful commentary, but not fighting, not being brave is not an option. The only option I’ve ever had was resistance.
In my anthropology class, we discussed a chapter from Lila Abu-Lughod’s Do Muslim Women Really Need Saving? Lila’s brilliant book explores colonial (white) feminism and its impact on third world bodies, mainly answering the title question (spoiler alert: the answer is no!). As an Arab, Muslim woman myself I was ecstatic when a dear friend of mine in Cairo shared Lila’s work with me. Finally, I thought, another Muslim, another woman from the Middle East/North Africa, speaking out saying exactly what I could not find the words to say. Abu Lughod’s book resonates deeply with me and so when I saw it was listed as a homework reading for my anthropology class that we would be discussing the next day I was wary as to where the discourse would lead us to. Don’t misunderstand me, I’m so happy to see her work being referenced in gen ed courses because our voices need to be heard, but at the same time, it also makes me want to step back a bit and shield myself from the onslaught of ignorance and orientalism I, and other brown girls, would soon be facing.
The class discussion was not out of the ordinary. The professor asked me and two other brown girls from Pakistan if we get beat if we leave our homes without the hijab (headscarf) on. I sighed and rolled my eyes, replying that no I personally have not had that experience and that most of my cousins are uncovered. One girl said that it’s not a common attitude amongst people she knows, but that it does affect more tribal areas due to the presence of extremist groups. Another girl who is a hijabi had to leave to class so she wouldn’t start yelling at the professor. The next question focused on acid attacks against women in countries like Afghanistan, India, Pakistan. We agreed that it is a serious issue, but privately wondered amongst the three of us why she chose that topic to focus in on. We began to speak about the criminalisation of brown and black bodies; of how a white women experiences colonial feminism much different than us, third world women. We agreed that even though she had grown up oppressed in her nation, her experience and skin colour made a significant difference in the way the Global North would treat her than they would treat us. This is not exactly what I want to focus on in this post though.
I’ve read past work of Abu Lughod before and have always apperciated her work. As a Arab Muslim feminist myself, Abu Lughod’s book Do Muslim Women Really Need Saving? is something I encourage everyone to read to gain a deeper and more politically conscious understanding of colonial feminism and Muslims themselves especially when intertwined with interference / colonisation from the Western world / Global North. In order to understand what Middle Eastern/North African women are saying and struggling with, Abu Lughod’s work brings an incredibly, incredibly important dimension to the overall discourse. In order to expel common, stereotypical notions that are enforced in Western culture and media about Muslims and third world women, I honestly, highly recommend purchasing Abu Lughod’s book and giving it a read–educate yourselves with sources from people of these cultures and countries. Listen to what we have to say and understand it instead of waiting to reply with oriential notions you hold onto.
I appericate Abu Lughod’s chapter so much in this textbook and wish that more people would take the time to understand and process what she is saying because I think it would make a difference in their views of Muslim women. We commonly see the criminalisation of black and brown bodies in the Western world and most privileged people don’t take the time to really understand what this means for us, the local community, and them, the bystanders or colonisers / oppressors. While these may be heavy words to invoke in a mere reflection, I feel that they are necessary after watching the discourse in class when discussing this chapter. I am not denying the complexity of these situations, but I truly believe the emphasis of the discourse (in my class’s discourse) should have been placed on the effects of invasion and imperialism moreso than culture and religion. It was disheartening to hear many people in class so quickly defend America for their actions in countries like Afghanistan, Iraq, and Pakistan and similarly blame the culture, religion and native people to an extent. I believe that, as Abu Lughod emphasises in her chapter, that we should focus on the real intentions and effects of colonial feminism in post-colonisations nations, especially in the third world.
It is not up to white people to “save” us. For them to “save” us, as Abu Lughod mentions, implies a mark of superiority among the Westerners and reinforces the idea that we are backwards, primitive, and ignorant instead of recognising that we have different cultural values and ways of life; even among Middle Eastern and North African Christians there is a gap between them and Western Christians, no doubt. Culture is a strong force and simply because it is different from yours does not mean it is wrong. People in my anthropology class were quick to defend America and to ignore actual women coming from these background in the class who were speaking up. This is tasteless and thoughtless. We speak and our voices should be heard. If white women truly want to help us in the name of transnational and global feminism, then it should disregard white, western feminism and elevate our voices and listen to what we have to say rather than speaking over us. We should also collectively recognise the impact colonalism made in native communities and how that created a resistance to the West inside colonised communities, while also acknowledging that colonalism and neo-colonialism have helped fester inferiority complexes inside these persons when compared to Westerns, or more frankly, the colonisers and what that leads to. Resistance to the Western world in former colonies makes perfect sense; and it allows us a deeper understanding of why people grasp their cultures so tightly and refuse to even loosen their hold a cm–this gives way for understanding how regions can become harmful to the population afterwards. Please do not misunderstand me: I am not and will not defend hurtful actions of anyone, whether local or not. But I do think context is vital to solving these serious issues and in order to gain context and understand the roots of these issues, we need to look at history and understand where people are coming from today. Colonalisation is not over, not by a long shot. The occupation of Iraq, the drones in Pakistan, the festering of terrorist groups in Afghanistan can all find their lives within Western colonialistion. It was not the native cultures that created these issues; but resistance, feelings of anger and helplessness, towards colonialism and to the West. To disregard that is ignorant and unhelpful. Even if you as an individual do not support America’s invasion of Iraq or disagree with what is currently happening or anything of a similar effect, you are still accountable. Even if you are not doing the oppressing, you need to be apart of the change and solution. You need to recognise your role as an ally and help us when we ask for it and do as we ask. We know the solution. We know what we need. You don’t.
If you honestly want to help third world women, then listen to us. Don’t come into our countries and tell us what’s good and bad for us when most of the time, our problems were created from your violence in our lands. At the same time, I won’t fully blame Western coloniseres for our problems because we shoulder some of the blame as well; but once again, context is important. If you truly care, then let us speak. Elevate our voices. Listen to what we are saying. That is how you can help. Listen.
In my class I was faced with something I am too familiar with. I am use to being dehumanised, to having my humanity completely stripped away from me; I am use to the racist remarks and the pitied explanations of how we need saving; all too familiar with the terrorist and sand— “jokes” and the same colonial rhetoric uselessly filling my ears. I am use to it all. It still infuriates me to no end, I am still furious and constantly, constantly fighting.
I was not surprised to hear the same tune fill my classroom and I never will be. I was honestly more surprised to hear about women in class defending us, agreeing with Abu Lughod and acknowledging our humanity, listening to what we said. I know this post is more of an essay than our little journal entries, but I believe it’s important. It needs to be heard.
I want my humanity back. I want to go home and finally see us okay. I hate looking around and realising how much of a privilege it is to live outside of my wataniya, of my homelands because of how destroyed we are due to colonalism and corrupt leaders. I hate looking at my Egyptian passport and realising how cheap we are to our government and to the outside world. I hate looking at my mom’s Jordanian citizenship, knowing that she was stripped of her Palestinian nationality, and knowing that she and other Palestinians are widely ignored and dismissed in the international community. We are seen as expendable and our bodies blur together to you all. I am sick and so fucking tired.
Listen to us, please, listen to us.
Unruly Bodies 
White though I may be, I am always willing to listen and offer support if things get too frustrating. Listening is kind of my specialty, so if you ever find yourself frustrated, I promise my heart and ears are open.
Thank you for writing this post, for being open and honest about how these conversations affect you, and for adding something to my reading list! Your voice is important, and so are you. ❤
Thank you so much for sharing this with us. I am ashamed of mine and those around me’s ignorance of the issues facing the Middle East and our own responsibility in causing and perpetuating those issues. Your experiences are so important and this is so well written and emotionally moving. To me, this post is a wake-up-call to actively seek out information about non-western countries from non-western people, and not think pieces by some blogger not actually involved. Please keep talking because I want to listen and I think other people do too.
Reading about your experience in your anthropology class is really disheartening! It’s really hard to comprehend how some professors can be so irresponsible towards certain subjects. If anything, your professor should have understood those issues and not spread stereotypes about Muslim women and the Middle East. Educators have a really big influence on students and your professor really was not helping. This is such a powerful piece and thank you for sharing your feelings and experiences with all of us.