RUTHFULLY YOURS

This has provoked responses ranging from supportive sisterhood to rage and even disbelief. Even Muslim women are deeply divided. Many find themselves torn between centuries of tradition, modern social pressures, and their own beliefs. Like many Muslim women living in the West, I have struggled to find the balance among my religion, my culture and American social mores.

The Quran tells me that God has created women and men equally. The Prophet Muhammad was surrounded by women who exemplified this equality: Khadijah, his financier; Nusayba, his protector; Aisha, who preserved his sayings; and Amrah, who overrode legal opinions of male scholars.

It is hard to reconcile verses and instances in Islamic history such as these with the reality of segregated mosques and a tradition in which young girls often are forced to marry much older men. Education is valuable for women in some Islamic cultures—but may result in a death sentence in others. My parents sent me from Kashmir, India, to the U.S. because they wanted me to think independently and to receive a first-class education. Yet a member of my extended family once threatened to attack me with acid when I went without a head cover.

Acts of aggression against women are not necessarily sexual. They are often expressions of power and control. In the mosque, all who worship are supposed to be equal in the eyes of God. Yet men often pray on the main floor while women are either segregated or relegated to a basement. This reinforces the notion of inequality. Acts of sexual aggression or coercion against women often are about imposing a similar form of control over another person—whether she is in the mosque or the hot tub, Hollywood or the hajj.

As women have risen in the socioeconomic and educational ranks, they have attained greater earning power, economic independence and other freedoms. Many Muslim women have made similarly impressive gains and are exhibiting leadership in their religious communities. At least two mosques in the U.S. have female presidents. Yet most women struggle with male-dominated religious leadership bodies, which are slow to acknowledge or value women’s contributions.

Like many of their non-Muslim counterparts, some Muslim men have difficulty accepting women’s increased leadership and independence. Sometimes they respond with overt displays of power, which can include acts of physical aggression or abuse. Or they use their power to suppress the visibility of women by excluding them from decision-making governing boards and leadership positions. They coerce women to keep quiet and bury issues that require open dialogue, arguing that women must maintain their femininity by remaining silent.

But this is only pushing Muslim women out of the mosque, with some abandoning Islam altogether. When they leave, they’re taking their talents to more welcoming organizations and movements, whether digital or on-the-ground. This brain drain hurts the entire Muslim community.

I had a similar experience when I came to the U.S. Unable to reconcile the negative perceptions of Islam with American values, I entered a spiritual crisis. I tried to find solace in mosques around Manhattan but was admonished by countless men for not wearing the hijab or refusing to pray in inferior spaces. I left the faith for a time, walking away from all things Islamic. Later I found a community that welcomed, respected and valued me. I eventually married the imam.

With the support of my community, and the encouragement of the devout Muslim men in my life, I came to discover my own power and purpose as a Muslim woman. This has enabled me to further develop as a leader and serve my community. Sometimes I wonder what life would be like had I not found my mosque—and I know I’d be worse for it. I hope other Muslim women realize they no longer need to rationalize or tolerate abuse. The mosque should be the first place to show Muslim women they deserve divinely mandated equality.