Islam, women, Asiyah, and me.
People often say that women aren’t afforded equal, or fair, treatment in Islam. That we aren’t given enough attention, enough status, enough rights, enough credit. We’re depicted as weak, subservient, and submissive, taught to believe that these traits define what it means to be good as a believing woman. The topic has been pursued endlessly, in mosques and homes and schools, as dinner conversation material, in academic debates and Facebook debates and every other kind as well.
This post is a reflection on one of the foremost female Islamic figures whose story should play a central role in the question of Islam’s approach towards women. A debate about Islam’s general attitude towards women without the mention of Asiyah is fruitless. Imagine having a debate about abortion in the U.S. without a discussion, or mention, of Roe v. Wade. Or a conversation on the Civil Rights movement without the mention of Dr. King. You just can’t do it. Such is this story.
Why? Because so much of what Islam says about women is folded into the life of Asiyah. Evidences of her virtues and character are discussed throughout the Qur’an, especially in Surah Qasas, Surah Ta Ha, and Surah Tahrim.
Asiyah was the wife of the Pharoah, one of the few specific men openly castigated in the Qur’an. She, adversely, is known to Muslims as one of the four women who is promised Jannah. And the essence of her story exists in her unwavering belief in God.
The abuse inflicted by the Pharoah on the early Egyptians who believed in the monotheistic message preached by Musa (A), at one time the Pharoah’s adopted son, is described with resolute and unrelenting detail throughout the Qur’an, especially in its first third.
Allah uses these verses to explain the arrogant and egotistical psychology behind the Pharoah’s radical claims and destructive actions, such as his firm belief that he himself is God, the law commanding the slaughter of the young Egyptian boys he viewed as a threat, and his blatant dismissal of Musa (A)’s divine miracles as the mere tricks of a sorcerer. Allah uses the Qur’an as a platform to address each transgression, ridiculing the Pharoah’s arrogance, scoffing his cold-heartedness, and establishing the ill-fated tyrant forever as the man who sinned so deeply, so carelessly, and so often, that he took himself outside of the folds of atonement, mercy, and repentance promised repeatedly to all of believing humanity throughout the Book.
For the wife of the Pharoah, the tone of the Qur’anic verses are starkly different. They shift from cold condemnation to a tone of warm respect and reverence. When he describes Asiyah, Allah uses phrases and words like “mathalan lilladheena aamanu” (an example for those who believe.) *Note, by the way- an example for those who believe. Those who believe. Gender-neutral. Both women and men have lessons to take away from Asiyah’s story… Just sayin’.
And there is so much to know about Asiyah- she was the kind-hearted woman who took in a boy floating in the river and loved him like a son, who saw so clearly through the arrogant mentality of the man who was her husband and chose instead to embrace Musa (A)’s faith at the cost of her life. She is the woman who grasped unflinchingly to the truth in the face of the worst, most brutal form of torture. There is no question that Asiyah’s compassion, wisdom, and boundless patience are unparalleled, infinitely deserving of the high rank with which she is honored.
To me it is Asiyah’s duaa which stands out the most as the shining example of what it truly means to be a Muslim woman.
Allah spells out the duaa, or prayer Asiyah makes to him in Surah Tahrim, when the Pharoah was inflicting on her his final, and most brutal, form of torture: “…My Lord, build for me near You a house in Paradise and save me from Pharaoh and his deeds and save me from the wrongdoing people.”
The wording of the duaa itself, its structure and its content, is a testament to Asiyah’s strength, of the example of stubborn adherence to faith which makes up the essence of a believing woman. In the midst of torture, Asiyah asked not first for momentary, worldly relief from her momentary, worldly abuse, but she asked for the thing she’s been fighting for all along, for the greatest relief possible. She asked for a home in Jannah.
She asked for a home in Jannah before she asked to be saved from the Pharoah. She refused to let the man who she was married to, who abused her and tortured her, define her goals and her prayers and her thoughts and her pleas. She refused to let an abusive man interfere between herself and her connection with Allah even in the moments when he was trying to rob her of her faith the hardest. She willfully handed over her home on earth, the home which wasn’t really a home, in favor for the real thing. The abode which lasts forever.
After her first duaa, Asiyah asked for redemption from the Pharoah and from his evil actions, an indirect plea for Allah to create distance between her deeds and the deeds of her husband. And she asked for emancipation from everyone around her who was like her husband. She asked for exclusivity, independence, and disassociation from the people around her with whom she couldn’t identify. She was unrelenting, unwavering, and fearless in her faith- anything but a submissive wife without a voice, anything but a helpless woman who can’t stand up to an abusive man. For this Asiyah is commended, held in such high regard that her story lives on and has been recited and explained, discussed and learned for thousands of years.
I owe Asiyah an incredible lot- I’ve often felt like her story has come through for me in times when I’ve felt most burdened or weighed down by life and how melancholy or hopeless it can leave you. Islam, true Islam, is anything but oppressive to women, rather, it encourages strength, determination, and individuality in women. When someone argues with that, tell them to learn about Asiyah.
