In a department store yesterday, a sales assistant was helping me with a product; he needed to check the price and when he got back to me, he went to ring through the transaction. In the interim, a woman had gone to the counter, products on hand ready to buy.
Technically I was there first and because of that, I was served first. Surprisingly, she didn’t move a single inch at the small counter, making the transaction extremely difficult. I finally asked her, politely, if she could please move a bit so that I could complete my purchase.
Heavily and slowly, she moved, but not without giving me what I can only term a look of pure and utter hatred. I was a little surprised and, although I felt slightly sick from her look, not being an overly shy type I was about to ask her what the problem was. But I didn’t. I thought it may create unnecessary fuss, and really, part of me didn’t want to know. If it escalated, it would ruin my mood and my day.
Instead, I finished the transaction and shook off the incident immediately. Past experience has taught me it’s the only way to not let it weigh on my mind.
But I didn’t completely forget it.
The issue? I wear hijab. I did feel at the time that the woman’s aggressive look was, at least in part, due to my appearance. I have no way of knowing for sure beyond my own instinct if that was indeed at the heart of it. But I’m definitely not an advocate for the victim mentality. I don’t think everyone is out to get me, nor do I think every instance of rudeness or aggression can be put down to prejudice. So I give myself enough credit to know my feelings weren’t of the knee jerk victimhood kind.
But the incident brought to mind an article (“Under siege: Muslims blame the media”, 3/5/07) I had read in The Sydney Morning Herald’s “The Face of Islam” series, which suggested Sydney’s Muslims feel more antagonised than other Australian Muslim residents, and blame it on saturated negative coverage in the media. I agree that media has been less than fair in many instances. I also believe this lack of fairness has its consequences in terms of community perceptions about Muslims.
But not for the first time I considered how much of this antagonism Sydney Muslims speak of is real and how much of it is perceived. The fact is, it happens; that’s not in question. But how much of it is, well, real? I’ve read endless stories of discrimination in the workplace and on the street. Yet, for every negative tale, I have heard more positive ones.
In the workplace, many of my friends who wear the hijab have excelled in their chosen careers, finding suitable jobs where they fit in comfortably without their religious practice suffering. And in general, those I know are similarly positive in their outlook in terms of everyday living. Smile and you’ll get a smile back.
But there are certainly instances of prejudice. For example, I didn’t imagine the time a garbage man yelled “Taliban” at me over and over as I left home for work one morning. I also didn’t imagine it when I was called an obscene term at Town Hall station nor when a bus driver looked at me as I stepped on and exclaimed in disgust, “Oh my God”, also neglecting to stop the bus at my stop and telling me I didn’t press the button (I certainly had).
My friends aren’t victimising themselves when they tell me they’ve been told, very creatively, to go home when driving, nor is the mother of two lying when she says her car’s side view mirror was smashed by another driver, who threatened it would be worse the next time.
But ultimately, we move beyond these incidents. Why? Because they’re not indicative of our overall lifestyles and interaction. We have non-Muslim friends, we’re not hidden indoors, we shop at the same shopping centres and most importantly, we all, in essence, want the same for ourselves and our families in life. We’ve been brought up in Sydney, and have an affection for that upbringing and Sydney that is rarely given airtime.
So, is it as bad as the mood suggests? And is this really Sydney’s problem? I’d be interested to know what people think, and how they perceive the situation to be for Muslims elsewhere.
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[...] Lest, we use the article to somehow denigrate the niqab or our sisters who wear it, let me be clear that I have nothing but respect for them. If there is one truly significant display of one’s commitment to Allah, then the niqab is it. Regardless of whether one believes it is obligatory or not, there is no denying the fact that these sisters have the guts to wear it, solely out of their belief that it is for the sake of Allah. I mean just the hijab is hard enough (read Amal’s story on Austrolabe), let alone something that covers your facial expressions, so you can’t smile to fend off a suspicious look. That is something to be praised, not belittled. And if you don’t think it takes guts, well try it yourself (sorry, guys, I know you can’t try it, but you have to ask a sister who does it to believe it). Furthermore, based on Islamic scholarship, there are really only two ‘authentic’, ‘traditional’ views to the niqab issue: (1) it is obligatory or (2) it is recommended. There is no third, so we should be careful about degrading the niqab because we may be degrading part of our religion. And if you push it too much, you may be facing the wrath of the ‘Ninjabis’ . [...]
Good points Amal!
The great thing about big cities is you get to witness the very best and worst that humanity has to offer on a daily basis, and London is no exception. The interesting thing I noticed is these incidents tend to be in extremes, where I experience very good treatment by some people or very bad treatment by others. It’s like a war between those who are trying to prove that English people are tolerant and those who aren’t. And even though humans tend to remember the bad and more often forget the good done to them, Id say the victors are the former, solely because it’s easy to be hateful, but having to deal with all their daily problems and still be exceptionally polite to a stranger is something to feel positive about.
There is no doubt that these incidents are real, I’ve had my fair share, and to assume it was because we’re Muslim or wear the hijab or are ethnic wouldn’t be far-fetched, more often than not, we’re right on the money. But the question is whether we should let these experiences define us. As my father reminds me “We should not use the victim mentality as a currency to sell our cause”.
Amal, I completely agree with you about the “victim mentality.” It’s something that we muslims all-too-often use as a crutch.
In niqaab, I found that some people were rude, others were completely indifferent, but many went out of their way to speak to me and be polite. I don’t know if it was because they wanted to emphasize that they weren’t bigoted, but my friend once commented she got some of the warmest reception from salespeople of her life when she went out with me.
Thank you Amal,
My impression is that Sydney has an ugly racist underbelly, and that in certain areas people are nasty.
My sister finds that being incredibly polite, and giving these rude people a beaming smile and ignoring their rudeness (or making out that one does not perceive their rudeness) both humiliates and infuriates them.
It is also a Prophetic sunnah (PBUH) for dealing with this type of person.
People who come here with similar views are generally cowardly and wilt when they are challenged.
From what I can see and what I have heard Sydney has a racist side as baybers mentioned that is not as prevalent in Melbourne (where I am from). I wouldn’t like to live there. I think Sydney seems to have a lot more racial barriers with certain suburbs being totally dominated by a particular cultural group which you don’t really find in Melbourne even though obviously some areas have more dominant cultural groups than others. My friend from Sydney was telling me that she and her friends don’t go outside the ‘Muslim’ areas like Lakemba etc.
As a niqaabi I do get a lot of looks but I find I tend to get less abuse than my hijabi counterparts. When I was in Melbourne I lived in a good area and never received any abuse there (except one time at Centerlink but that was a druggie that I don’t really count). Most people would take a quick look but would be embaressed if caught looking. It was curiosity and it doesn’t bother me in the slightest if people stare at me. It is that curiosity I arouse in people that leads to people stopping me wherever I go to ask me questions. The few times I have had verbal abuse has been in the Northern suburbs where there is a fairly large Muslim population. I attribute this more to the fact that the level of education is a lot lower there.
Overall though I think it depends on your outlook. You can let every stare or glance get to you and make you upset or you can just smile and walk along happily without it bothering you. I find if you are a confident person then you are less likely to be abused. I always talk with shopkeepers and people outside. They are really surprised (although they try not to show it) because I think they think I can’t speak English
I think it is sad reflection on our society though that we as Muslim women have to accept abuse even if it is a rarity as part of our lives.
Thanks to all for your interesting thoughts on the subject.
I just wanted to comment on the aspect of Sydney’s suburban divisions.
Fatima, I found your comments very significant, but I was surprised by this:
I don’t think this is a fair depiction of the state of things in Sydney. With all due respect, I think some Muslims may have an isolationist approach themselves.
I don’t live in a predominantly Muslim area, and I have only ever worked in areas that similarly are not predominantly Muslim, and besides the occasional incident, the situation isn’t so dire that I worry about being in those areas.
I suppose it could be fairly argued, however, that Sydney has a level of hostility that Melbourne doesn’t. I did notice the difference on previous visits to Melbourne.
My friend’s comment won’t apply to everyone but I was surprised to hear it from a number of Sydney girls during Hajj time when I met them. They were very wary of going to ‘non-Muslim’ suburbs because they were fearful of abuse. I can understand it though if they have been abused before or know someone who has and that makes them fearful.
Personally though I am against thinking like that because I think it defeats the purpose of being in Australia. If we isolate ourselves then we only cause more barriers and misunderstandings between us and the wider society.
There isn’t a problem with Muslims in Sydney, there’s a problem with the Lebanese community and as a result Muslims are consistently having their reputations trashed in the public arena. The problem exists in Melbourne too but because there are a lot more Lebanese in Sydney it’s more visible. There is a big problem with that community and we all suffer for it.
That’s fair enough, Fatima. They may have good reason to think that, and I completely appreciate that many women may have this mindset. However, I do confess that I’m not convinced these fears are necessarily justified. Some areas may be off-limits (like The Shire in December 2005), but generally, it’s a mix wherever you go. The occasional death stare from afar or the overly aggressive person in a shop queue. In fact, it’s in Muslim-populated areas that the reactions can be worse (“Too many Muslims”, thinks the bogan). I guess my point is it’s widespread (in varying degrees granted), not limited to certain areas.
It reminds me of a terrible piece I read in SMH’s Radar last year (censure in itself, I know), which had a journalist spending the day with a Muslim woman and her daughter to assess Sydney’s bigotry. The result was two Muslims looking for prejudice. They went to Chatswood on Sydney’s North Shore, which by no means is an area hostile to Muslims despite a lack of them there. They reduced friendliness to sympathy and fear. It was a pathetic article in the end and seemed to prove the opposite of what the Muslim women were trying to say.
I don’t think that’s necessarily the case. Obviously certain high-profile cases have tarnished the community, but we can’t dismiss the part of world events in exacerbating fragile community perceptions, a negative image that we all have to pay for.
hp said:
> There isn’t a problem with Muslims in Sydney, >there’s a problem with the Lebanese community and >as a result Muslims are consistently having their >reputations trashed in the public arena. The problem >exists in Melbourne too but because there are a lot >more Lebanese in Sydney it’s more visible. There is a >big problem with that community and we all suffer for >it.
Amal said:
>>I don’t think that’s necessarily the case. Obviously >>certain high-profile cases have tarnished the >>community, but we can’t dismiss the part of world >>perceptions, a negative image that we all have to >>pay for.
The problem is with muslims, not Lebanese in general.
Non-muslim Lebanese who came here in the 1970s have fitted in very well to Australia and are now Aussies. It was easy because they have similar attitudes to Australians – they are generous, welcoming, laid-back, larrikin sense of humour, work hard/play hard, are grateful to be in a free and healthy country and don’t take offence easily. And drive V8s.
Muslims however seek to impose their beliefs on all others and consider themselves Muslim first and foremost. They are constantly being offended. And they have great tendencies to be violent. This is not the Australian way and that’s why Muslims will never be welcome in Australia.
That said, I expect that Muslims will outnumber Australians within the next 15 years and will therefore be making the rules. Along with the Chinese and Koreans.
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