On the show this week, I’m talking to Nadeine Asabali about her book, Veiled Threat: On being visibly Muslim in Britain.
In her book, Nadeine addresses the myriad of experiences of Muslim hijabi women, and the many different facets of racism, Islamaphobia and mysogigny experienced. Being a mixed raced child, with a Libyan father and a white English mother, Nadeine often passed as a white kid, until she started wearing the hijab and everything changed. In this episode, we talk all about her book, Islamaphobia, the pitfalls of white liberal feminism, the criminalisation of Muslim identity in Britain and so much more.
Nadeine Asbali is a British Muslim writer and secondary school teacher living in east London. Growing up with an English mother and a Libyan father in an overwhelmingly white town and deciding to wear the hijab as a teenager are experiences that have shaped the trajectory of her life and her writing, forming the foundations of a freelance writing career that explores the themes of identity, social policy, racism and Islamophobia for national and international publications, including the i, The Guardian, theNew Arab and Glamour. Nadeine is also a Metro columnist and regularly writes about schools and education policy, specialising in how Muslim and ethnic minority pupils are represented by the British education system.
I hope you find this episode insightful, interesting and enlightening. Please do follow and subscribe on your podcast platform of choice. I'd really appreciate it if you would rate and leave a review, as it helps more people find out about the show :)
Also, you can now help support the show by joining me on Patreon. When you subscribe, you could get access to an exclusive episode right to your inbox, each month!
www.patreon.com/thediversebookshelfpodcast
On the show this week, I’m talking to Nadeine Asabali about her book, Veiled Threat: On being visibly Muslim in Britain.
In her book, Nadeine addresses the myriad of experiences of Muslim hijabi women, and the many different facets of racism, Islamaphobia and mysogigny experienced. Being a mixed raced child, with a Libyan father and a white English mother, Nadeine often passed as a white kid, until she started wearing the hijab and everything changed. In this episode, we talk all about her book, Islamaphobia, the pitfalls of white liberal feminism, the criminalisation of Muslim identity in Britain and so much more.
Nadeine Asbali is a British Muslim writer and secondary school teacher living in east London. Growing up with an English mother and a Libyan father in an overwhelmingly white town and deciding to wear the hijab as a teenager are experiences that have shaped the trajectory of her life and her writing, forming the foundations of a freelance writing career that explores the themes of identity, social policy, racism and Islamophobia for national and international publications, including the i, The Guardian, theNew Arab and Glamour. Nadeine is also a Metro columnist and regularly writes about schools and education policy, specialising in how Muslim and ethnic minority pupils are represented by the British education system.
I hope you find this episode insightful, interesting and enlightening. Please do follow and subscribe on your podcast platform of choice. I'd really appreciate it if you would rate and leave a review, as it helps more people find out about the show :)
Also, you can now help support the show by joining me on Patreon. When you subscribe, you could get access to an exclusive episode right to your inbox, each month!
www.patreon.com/thediversebookshelfpodcast
Hello, and welcome to The Diverse Bookshelf with me, Samia Aziz. On the show I interview incredible authors doing a deep dive into important themes and issues while talking all things books. On the show this week, I'm talking to Nadeine Asbali about her new book: Veiled Threat - On Being Visibly Muslim in Britain. In her book, Nadeine addresses the myriad experiences of Muslim hijabi woman and the many different facets of racism, misogyny, and Islamaphobia experienced. Being a mixed race child - her father is Libyan and her mother is white English - Nadeine often passed as just an ordinary white kid until she started to wear the hijab. When everything changed. In this episode, we talk all about her book about Islamophobia, the pitfalls of white liberal feminism, the criminalization of Muslim identity in Britain, and so much more. Nadeine Asbali is a British journalist and writer and a secondary school teacher living in East London. Growing up with an English mother and the Libyan father in an overwhelmingly white town and deciding to wear the hijab as a teenager, are experiences that have shaped the trajectory of her life and her writing. They have formed the foundations of a freelance writing career that explores the themes of identity, social policy, racism, and Islamaphobia for national and international publications, including the Guardian, the new Arab, and Glamour magazine. She is also a metro columnist, and regularly writes about schools and education policy, specialising in how Muslim and ethnic minority pupils are represented by the British education system. Now, before we get on with today's episode, I just want to remind you that you can help support the show, come and join me on Patreon and join my community. When you subscribe, you could get access to an exclusive podcast episode, every single month directly to your inbox only, you'd really be helping me to put more episodes like this out into the world. Now on with the show. Hello, Nadine As salam o alaikum, and welcome to the diverse bookshelf is so lovely to have you on the show. How are you doing?
Nadeine Asbali:Walaykum assalaam. Thank you so much for having me. I'm good. Thank you. I'm excited to chat to you.
Samia Aziz:And huge congratulations, because your book, Veiled Threat has just been out in the wild just for a few weeks. So a really exciting start to 2024 for you. But a huge feat in getting a book published and one that is so important. And I think so relevant and insightful as well. So congratulations, how has it been having your book out in the world?
Nadeine Asbali:Thank you so much. It's been quite surreal, really. Because obviously, it's something that I spent the last two years working on. And I've just seen it in draft form in random apps on my phone and in bits and pieces. So seeing it as an actual physical book, and then in readers hands and on bookshelves has been really surreal. But, Alhamdulillah. It's a really, it's a really nice feeling.
Samia Aziz:And it physically can't be missed. It is a fluorescent green, which I absolutely love. I love the fact that it is so visible because it reflects, I guess, what you're trying to talk about, which is the visibility of Muslim women and how the hijab makes you a very visible Muslim woman. So tell me a little bit about how you got to writing this book. What was your journey to a veiled threat?
Nadeine Asbali:So I suppose the story itself is, is my life story. So it's everything I've experienced since just before my 15th birthday. So like 15 years ago now, it was kind of always in me, and I think I always you know, I studied English at uni, and that I came to be an English teacher. So writing is something I've always been drawn to. But I always kind of felt as though before I could write anything else, I needed to write this book, almost to unpack everything that I've experienced. And I think it was really cathartic writing it. But I mean, to be honest, I kind of just had a far fetched dream that one day I was going to write a book and I didn't really think it would ever happen. But when I was on maternity leave about two years ago now, I started to write articles. And an agent reached out to me after reading my articles and said, Have you ever thought about writing a book? And I was like, Oh my gosh, yeah, think about all the time. And then she walks me through it, basically. So we just went from there. So Alhamdulillah it was it kind of something that had been within me for years, and then suddenly kind of happened quite quickly, but Alhamdulillah.
Samia Aziz:It sounds like it happened very quickly. And actually the book You know, some of the examples that you use, and you talk about the ongoing war in Gaza, like it is very, recent. And so it feels like it all happened very quickly. But when it came to you thinking about exactly what book you wanted to write, what were you really interested in talking That's really interesting. And it is certainly about?
Nadeine Asbali:I think I wanted to put something in people's hands, that really gets to the heart of like, all the multifaceted. You write about a whole host of things and complexities of what it's like to be a Muslim woman in Britain, there might be things out there that deal with one element of different elements of being a Muslim woman in the UK, and sort it, I don't think I've come across anything that's dealt with all of those multifaceted, competing challenges at once. I wanted it to be a visibly Muslim woman who wrote it, because I feel like so often, when Muslim women are spoken about. So when of, I guess, also like the different arms of Islamophobia there'll be a debate about the hijab on like a talk show or something, they might invite someone who's maybe not visibly Muslim, or, you know, if they're debating the niqab, they'll very rarely have you on, so I wanted to tell it from the horse's mouth, so to speak, and, and to use my own personal experiences, through all the different stages of my life, to then kind of delve into, like the politics behind it, I suppose, so that my kind of fellow visibly Muslim women would feel heard, but also so that non Muslims, or non visibly Muslim women would know what it's like to be me bombarded from all sides, and from all angles. and misogyny and where they will come from and, and how it can impact a person. Let's start with your story. So you are of mixed race heritage. Your father is Libyan, I believe your mother is white. And so you write in the book about how basically, as a child, unknowingly, you are passing as just white, although there was a little bit of confusion about your surname, because Nadeine is a name that is not particularly foreign sounding. But Asbali, is, and so what was it like for you, sort of having the awakening, when you did that you are, you are considered the other that you are not actually white, like your English peers, like Sally and Lucy, and whoever else. It's hard to put it into words, I think. I think on the one hand, it was a shock to know that as soon as I became visibly other, it wasn't this novelty anymore. Growing up, me and my brother always, especially because we knew it in a small Primary School. And in a white town. It was like a novelty, like, oh their dad's Libyan. And it was like, you know, just like someone can, you know, has a million pets at home. It was like a little it was like kind of fact. I suppose it hadn't occurred to me until I made myself visibly other that all white people are not going to find this like an amusing kind of fact anymore. If anything, it's now going to come to define everything about me. And I still find it so striking because my brother can you know, start a new job, and they make you say a little icebreaker fact about yourself. And he'll say, I'm half Libyan, and everyone's really shocked and like, oh, wow, really? And I say, and they're like, oh, obviously, you're something right. It's it's just, I suppose it was a real shock to know that it wasn't a novelty. I think it was really confusing, because it wasn't something I'd ever had to question, which was a privilege, right? Because I was privileged to be able to not, you know, people who are grappling other kind of, you know, from other minorities don't have that privilege from birth. But I was kind of sheltered up until the age of 15. And to some extent, because I could just pass as white and no, people might say, oh, where's your surname from? But that was that was about it. The real shock and it just, it changed everything overnight, like I talked about in the book.
Samia Aziz:So it's interesting, I have I have nieces, and I don't really remember how I felt when I was like, 56789 I don't really remember what I thought about my identity and my race. But some of my conversations with my nieces, especially when they have been younger and I mean, kind of like maybe like six, seven, or what, you know, where from London where we're British, or you know, we're not brown, especially because my nieces are quite fair skinned. I mean, we're Pakistanik but they're quite fair skinned. I just remember my my little niece at one point she was like, Well, I'm not a Pakistani I'm Londonese. I found it hilarious because she made up a word, but it's interesting that and it wasn't so much she still looks Pakistani even though she is of light skin. But as you can tell that she's this is not whitw. But I found it so interesting how you don't perceive yourself as that other always. And I guess part of it depends on your environment, and how maybe if you grow up in a town that is very white, you just kind of blend in. But maybe if there's more people that look like you and maybe I don't really know, like, if it if it depends also whether or not there is more multiculturalism, if that brings out difference? Or does it just make it acceptable? I wonder, like, what are your thoughts?
Nadeine Asbali:It is interesting, because I've really noticed that through teaching in Northampton, and then teaching in East London, when I first started teaching in Northampton, I would have like a few Muslim students, and they really reminded me of myself when I was a teenager, like very kind of uncomfortable, very aware of the fact that they're a minority, very conscious to like, try and fit in as much as possible. So we'd be really nervous about doing things like praying at school or talking about the fact they're fasting. And then I moved to East London, and I was so blown away with how confident the British the kids are here. And like, it reminds me of your nieces, because they'll just say they're from London, and they don't even have to think about it. And yet still almost at the age of 30. I'm like having to, I have to say what do you mean ethnicity? Do you mean town? It's really nice to see. But I think London is quite a bubble in that sense. Like, I think the kids growing up here. Do you just feel like they're from London? Because it's so normal for almost everyone, I suppose. Especially like the younger generation has some kind of other ethnicity in them. So it was quite normal for them. But yeah, I don't I think my experience of growing up where I was one more, I felt like I was one of the only ones who was different was that it made me feel really kind of hyper aware of it. And I think I think there's a comfort in being somewhere multicultural, because you feel like, we're all we're all and other. So therefore none of us.
Samia Aziz:So I just want to talk a little bit about that moment that you on the you started wearing the hijab, so I was a similar age, to when you started writing, I started writing it, I was like, 15/16 I think I just finished my GCSEs. And for me, okay, you know, my whole family is Pakistani, and some people wear hijab, and some people don't some some of my relatives, even my mom will just write the butter, like, you know, just, it's different. I never felt that either I should or I shouldn't from, like from that perspective. But I've gotten to the point where I had just started reading, like quite a bit of Muslim literature and made some new friends. I because I started to think I think a little bit more about going to university and like exploring things, you know, what that was gonna look like, and all of those sort of things. So I decided one day also just like, You know what, I want to wear the hijab now. And I felt like I didn't have like a huge, it wasn't like a huge, like, spiritual thing that was like, No, Islam tells me I have to wear it and I have to wear it right now. I just felt like within me that this was the right thing that I wanted to do. I can't really explain it. I don't know if your experience with that is similar. And I grew up in London, and I very much felt a change. It wasn't massive. But whereas before I had felt kind of like a little bit more accepted and part, you know, part of the furniture of the school, I was always kind of like giving talks and taking people around tours around the school and I was very much an ambassador. And then I put on the hijab and I just felt a resistance. I just felt a little bit of people pulling back especially teachers, not so much my classmates, but more teachers kind of like pulling back treading with caution. And it made me feel so uncomfortable, but I couldn't really put my finger on it. And this happened obviously, like quite a few years after post 911 In terms of like the height of a sound phobia. We weren't we weren't at our I would call like the peak of it. It was just very strange for me to understand and you can't even pick out particular me for me I didn't have any particular instances of outright Islamophobia or racism, but there was definitely a shift actually until maybe like a year and a half later. When I was applying for university, we had this careers advisor who just, I mean, you know, I don't want to speak ill of everybody, but I just, I just feel like maybe that wasn't the right job, the right job for her. But she, I was I had decided to apply to Cambridge. And she basically told me that maybe I would get in on the diversity card. And it was horrible. It was really horrible. And but even then, I still couldn't figure out exactly like, why that was so harsh, because what she had said was, oh, yeah, maybe they'll get in because they won't have enough applicants that look like you. So she didn't say, because you're brown, because you're Muslim because you wear hijab. But she said, Because there weren't enough applicants that look like you. Which is, is really difficult. I think, as a teenager to kind of deal with all what does that mean? And what are the implications of that? What can I do about this? I just kind of pretended that it never happened and moved on. Because I didn't know what else I could do in that instance. But I just remember it being just this very strange experience. And I just wondered if you could talk about what it was like for you, when you because you were on holiday, when you decided that you wanted to wear hijab, and you'd come back, wearing the hijab. So what was that? What was that like and that change for you?
Nadeine Asbali:I think I had internally been considering it for a while without realising that I had. So I think, like I kind of the hijab, because I had tried to be white. And I felt like okay, that hadn't worked. And then I felt like my next step was actually to try and be Libyan. So I, I remember, we had at my I went to a girls school, and there were a few, a pair of sisters in a few years above me, who will also half up and half English. And I remember I would try and like and you know, in school like a year elevens never going to be friends with a little year eight. But I, I used to try and like stand near them were in this place where we'd all wait to be picked up in the hope that I might make friends with them. And I thought, Okay, I'll be Libyan and I'll like find some kind of Libyan friends. And then that just didn't work either. So then I think I kind of then went towards, okay, let me be Muslim. And you know, how in school, every, everyone's like a little clique and, and there was like the Muslim group, and I kind of thought in my head, okay, I'll go and join that. And I think I kind of thought of the hijab is like my ticket to that. But then, so that was kind of like during the year leading up to it. And then I went to Libya for the summer, like we always did. And I just, like, it sounds quite cheesy or cliche, but one day, I just, I just woke up and just felt like putting it on. And nobody had said anything to me. Nobody had suggested it. And if anything, all so I went to my cousin whose house I was staying at and said I want to put on the hijab. And then she got this like beautiful purple scarf and wrapped it around my head. And that day, all my cousins took me hijab shopping, and I bought like a few of my first hijab. So then I was in Libya for the next couple of weeks wearing it. And there it was, like a bubble like, most not all the women wear it, but a lot of the women wear it, everyone was like happy and like congratulating me and giving me like chocolates and like money because I started wearing it. And I was like, Oh my gosh, this is so nice. I've been welcomed into this, like, you know, elite club. I felt like special, you know. And then and then I got to Heathrow. And it was just so me and my brother used to travel back from Libya on our own, because we would, we'd go as a family and then my mum and dad would come back for work and me and my brother would stay with all my family that and then we'd come back on our own. So it was just me and him going through security. And I just felt it like it was like a smack in the face travelling through Heathrow. I was still a kid I was only 14 Like just before my 15th birthday. And everyone was just so hostile to me. And like really questioning where we'd been why, why we'd gone there. And they like separated me and my brother and he looks very English like blonde, brown hair, blue eyes, white skin. And they just separated us and I was taken into this room and this woman was like prodding through my scarf and like tell them to take off and like checking under my ponytail. And I just felt so like it was just such a clear message that this is Britain and this is not how you dress here. And if you're going to dress like that here, we're going to make it difficult for you. And then like going to school and everything wearing it. I just felt it's like he it's like you describe it, you can't even it's hard to put it into words and it's hard to explain it to someone who hasn't felt it, but it's just like a shift. It's like the ground shifted underneath you and you're not. And everything's kind of distorted. Like, all my teachers were just acts kind of differently to me like, slightly hostile or, like, I really remember I wrote about this in the book because it was such a like, knocked on my self confidence. But it was my first lesson, my first day back of the school year, and my favourite teacher who had like, I had been hostile people. And she looked at me, and she said, Rukhsana going through over that, because she just saw the hijab, and she just thought I was the only other Muslim girl in the class. And I was like, wow, she didn't even look at my face. Like it was. It was just such a shock. And then teachers would just say weird things to me like, Oh, I didn't know your dad was one of the ones who made you wear that. And I felt like I had been there good. They're kind of good, palatable, vaguely mixed race, child. And now suddenly, I was this like, visibly Muslim thing. And it just, yeah, it just, it just changed everything. And it's really hard to even now. I'll be like that because obviously, English, I'll be like, Oh, that one was really, racist to me. And she was like, really? Like she like, it's hard for people to pick up on it when it's not that I could really tell from looking at me or the way she spoke to me. But yeah, it's just it really changes everything about how you're perceived in public.
Samia Aziz:Yeah, absolutely. But what about the other side? Because I think you know, it is putting on the hijab and becoming visibly Muslim in that way. To non Muslims, I think, especially, you know, it does change the way that they behave. But what about the community of Muslims and other hijabis like, what was what has been your experience? Did you find greater sisterhood when you started wearing the hijab? What's that been like?
Nadeine Asbali:It's funny, because the immediate reaction of the girls at my school, who I had, like, secretly been trying to be friends. They were like, they thought I was just like pulling a prank, they thought I was just like, a white girl who was just wearing, I don't know, a social experiment or something. And I was so crushed by that, because that's, and that's why I think like, it didn't solve everything about my identity crisis, because I realised that I'll always be too brown for my white side, and to English, whatever, for my brown side that they just thought, like, I was just the new I don't know what they thought that they didn't think I was actually Muslim and actually wearing the hijab. But eventually, yeah, like, I found friends at school, who understoof, and like, we started to pray together. And I think I noticed in public, like that little, you know, hijab, you smile you give to another? And yeah, and like, I really noticed it when I got to university, I think, because I was probably seeking out those Muslims spaces. I felt like a sisterhood then. I do. Yeah, I feel like now I think it wasn't as immediate as I had hoped. But I definitely do feel that and there's my group, my closest friends are like, a collection of the other fellow hijab youth who have been in every context, like the only other hijabi when I was training as a teacher, the only other hijab on my course, is like, with like, collected each other through like,
Samia Aziz:Yeah, it's really interesting what you say about seeking out in the same spaces, because although like, I grew up in London, I'm my I went to grad school, and it was fairly multicultural. And I had friends from all different backgrounds. So the white like, I didn't have a tonne of Muslim friends. But I had, like, you know, a decent number. And especially when I put on hijab, like a lot of them were already wearing hijab. And so it was quite nice. I felt like a kind of my bonds with them did improve. But it was really when I went to university. So I did go to Cambridge, and I don't think I got in as on the diversity card. But I hope I did anyway, but I just go to Cambridge Hamdulillah. And I just remember, like, before I went, I had this idea that I was like, You know what I'm going to I'm going to go what we call mainstream, right? I'm going to join like the university wide debating society and the university wide Student Union and I'm not going to get massively involved in the Islamic society because like, it's great that it's there. I'm gonna go to the events for what I really want to do is I really want to like build myself and I want to make the connections and I want to like you know, want to do that stuff. But gosh, when I got there, I was like, oh, no, I need those Muslim spaces. I just remember in the first week, I was so overwhelmed by the sheer number of people that did not look like me and Look at me, just with a complexity on their face. I know there were many people that I met, I was the first Muslim they were speaking to. I was the first woman in hijab, but they were having conversation with. And I just couldn't, I couldn't. I was like, Oh my gosh, this is this is a bit too much. And I saw out, I saw the ISOC. I'm very grateful for it. I'm very grateful for it. Because I felt safe. I just felt safe and seen and looked after. And I found friends and community. And that doesn't mean that like, I didn't do things outside of the eye socket. I didn't have friends, obviously, of course I did. But, but that that Muslims face was so anchoring throughout my entire university experience, and I was very well with your family society. And yeah, I could have given less time that and given more time and to other things. And perhaps they may have helped me professionally if I had done that. But what I needed was I needed to feel myself and I needed to feel safe. And I didn't want to be constantly having to justify why I'm not going out drinking, why I'm not doing this and why I don't really want to go and sit in the pub, even if I'm not going to be drinking a lot of these, I didn't want to constantly be having these conversations, I found them very tiring. And I just wanted to be able to be myself. And I think that was the biggest thing for me in finding their spaces was that they felt safe, and they felt like and there were a whole whole range of people, a whole range of Muslims with a whole range of experiences and different kind of degrees of religiosity if you like, and I love that I love that I didn't also have to have to be somebody that was, you know, like, completely in line with written faith practices. And it was okay, if I was sloppy, that was okay, if I wasn't doing things, and I don't have to pretend to be somebody I wasn't. And that was just so like, I'm so grateful for that space. And I am so glad to see the asylum societies are still operating the same. And I think we're getting better and like, just more inclusive as long as I think. Yeah, definitely. So you write in the book about the different ways that Muslim women and especially like hijabi Muslim women deal with Islamaphobia and misogyny patriarchy. But we also write about the pitfalls of white liberal humanism. I wanted to take a moment just to talk about the hypocrisy of the white feminist movement, especially with the case of Iran versus hijab bans in France. But what about the silence that we'll be hearing from white liberal, white feminists, liberal spaces around what we are witnessing in Gaza at the moment? I just wondered what your thoughts on that.
Nadeine Asbali:I mean, the silence is really is deafening. And I think the double standards could not be clearer. And I think, yeah, I'm obviously I'm not glad for their silence, but in a way, I'm glad that I think it's opening people's eyes to how actually disinterested white liberal feminism is, in Muslim women's liberation or safety or existence, like we are, we are, quite literally only that. We are only kind of, we only even come into their minds when it fulfils their own aims, right. So when, like that image of a Muslim woman taking her hijab off and burning it in the street in Iran is so like, so perfect for the white liberal feminists kind of agenda. Why we saw, you know, women shaving their heads in protests, we've been crying on Instagram about it, or that these massive feminists platforms showing their solidarity and, and yet, as soon as the exact opposite happens, as soon as Muslim women are trying to fight for their right to cover, they don't care anymore, because and that's why in the book, I really try and talk about how white liberal feminism is just an extension of, of white supremacy, and how all it does is it reproduces those same structures in that we see in patriarchy, but instead of it being a Man telling us how to dress, it is a liberal white feminist telling us I know that, you know, this stuff isn't a good feminist move. But if you take it off, then you are a good feminist. You know, white feminism is only interested in taking over that role of what men might have traditionally taken and patriarchy so it's them who are controlling our bodies instead of men. And that doesn't serve us in any way. And, you know, with I mean with Palestine at the moment is just I feel like I don't even know what to say anymore about the silence like it's just, you know, how can women giving birth in rubble women having caesarean sections without anaesthetic, women dying? Like how can all of that not turn up something in the white feminist movement? And the only answer is racism because they don't see us as woman enough for their attention. Yeah, it's just, I mean, I think it just really exposes how how kind of invested white feminism is in the wider kind of liberal agenda and how it feeds into like colonialism and white supremacy. And yeah, it's just, I think they've shown they've exposed themselves as serving no purpose for Muslim women anymore.
Samia Aziz:I think the problem is that white liberal feminism for so long has just been kind of like, told, or put itself forward as, as just feminism, it's just mainstream feminism, if you are a feminist, this is what you prescribe to and this is what you do. Actually, it is it is just a faction really is not representative of everybody, it is not inclusive, and it actually comes with already predetermined types in mind, it comes with the eye with racist ideas with even like patriarchal idea has already. And just seems to be working around them. And it's really harmful, very, very harmful. I don't understand how any feminist movement and regardless what it will call itself, look at what's happening in Gaza, in Palestine, why, like you said, women are having to give birth about any kind of medication, having caseareans without anaesthetic, and, you know, losing their children in front of them are being are being murdered. So how that doesn't become an issue a feminist issue, like it just it just doesn't make any sense to me. And it just kind of reminds reminds us that, like, they don't have our back, right. Like, unfortunately, like, not all spaces are for us. Which is just Yeah, I just, honestly, like I just can't, and I think there's one over hypocrisy around Iran, like, you're right, the banning of the hijab is such, like, like, it's such a powerful statement that I have felt, I mean, I have such confused feelings, I think around Iran, generally. It's also that's very harmful for people, you if we're championing the binding of a job, but at the same time, we are not supporting, I want to wear the hijab, like and you can do both, you can you can say, if you don't want to wear the hijab, you don't have to wear I don't wear, I wear whatever you want, of course, of course. But equally, if you want to either to have the right here, it feels safe to wear it. That's that is not what is happening, it seems to be that, you know, the binding of the hijab was considered revolutionary. But we know that for as long as time women have been wearing whatever they want to wear, they've been women, they'll be wearing hijab, or Muslim women that have been wearing hijab, a Muslim woman that haven't been wearing hijab and have been holding all manner of positions in society historically, making massive change to communities achieving so much and it's not been determined by by the clothes they're wearing. And it's such a shame that it's still feel so, so myopic. So what would you do you have any, like any advice or like any words of wisdom for like young women, young Western women, that are looking for spaces and looking for movements to be part of that champion for their own, you know, well being and empowerment? And for those around the world? What sort of things should should we be looking out for? And where can we really find the so the safety that need,
Nadeine Asbali:I think, like, building on what you said about Iran, and I think like why feminism is problem is that it doesn't have any interest in thinking that women have a choice, or, like freedom or free will or whatever. So that's why like, because it's so easy, like it's not intellectually difficult to understand that a woman like you can support a woman too. You can support a woman choosing to wear the hijab and you can support a woman choosing to not like that, not a contradiction, but feminism sees it as a contradiction because they don't View the woman's choice as the main thing, they they view the hijab as a patriarchal symbol, like the centre of that issue. So I think that's just that is why it is really no space for us as Muslim women and I think I think a lot of Muslim women in the West go through that phase of I've certainly in the past tried to kind of make feminism aka white feminism work with my Muslim-ness. And, and I think actually, it can't work because it's not built for us and in fact, it's builtnspecifically to disclude us to exclude us and to to marginalise us, because for white feminism to thrive, it needs some it needs like a victim to save, and we are its victim, right? We are like it's fodder. So that's why I think my advice would be to not try and make white feminism work you as a Muslim woman because it's it's never going to I think Islamic history and our Islamic beliefs and we have plenty of feminist figures, like, you know, people like Khadija (ra), who are far better to look up to you than your liberal white feminist who just wants you to remove your hijab. And, and that doesn't mean like being stuck in the past and not, not kind of times but I think it's just acknowledging that, you know, Islam is not in in many ways, Islam and the West are kind of feeling to me like they are increasingly incompatible because the West is increasingly marginalising us right. criminalising, you know, us standing up for justice for our past, Palestinian brothers and sisters. criminalising the way we dress criminalising things like us praying at school, or so I think my advice would be to not to not try to make western ideals work for you as a Muslim. And to like seek your, your inspiration from like your faith. And I think that's something I wish I had learned sooner. Because when I was at university, I tried to be a feminist. And, you know, to say, like, Oh, my hijab is and isn't because like, God tells me to, it's because I'm just trying to reject the male gaze and, and yeah, that's, that's the part of it rejecting the male gaze, but I think it's so unfashionable in our, in our modern society to just say, I do this, because God asks me to, actually, we should like, own that.
Samia Aziz:It's interesting what you say about how you feel, about increasingly, Islam is incompatible in the West, do you think that it's more because of the fact that the West doesn't, doesn't want to? Like it's not open to any form of compatibility? It doesn't actually want it to be compatible, rather than the fact that it isn't. Because I think what is so difficult is the fact that everything is being criminalised. Muslim identities are being criminalised that are raised conscious constantly. And I think this goes for other minority communities as well. And the West is extremely racist. So it's not like a Muslim issue. Like yeah, but definitely is is a big issue with Muslims. Because I think it's also important for Muslims living in the West and I think especially like young British Muslims, to have an like a nuanced perspective of that identity to feel somewhat, okay, and to feel somewhat stable, because, you know, I know like you like I was born in the UK. For me, this is home. And if I, if I don't try and focus on it being home, I will have nowhere to go. And I think that part of the reason that's part of the reason why so much so many of our generation and even the next generation is so anxious all the time is because we don't feel that sense of self acceptance, but I think trying to find it and whether that is actually by travelling inward and turning to faith but trying to find some sort of balance. I think is really important but it's hard it's really hard to always feel like like you do like you're always to brown to in to white or in my case to British for Pakistan. I lived there for two years and I went very recently. Every time I go if I feel like I stick out like a sore thumb and it is very tough. It's really tough.
Nadeine Asbali:It's interesting because I think on the surface, you might think, okay, Britain's becoming more multicultural than ever. Like there's more British Muslims now who, who are British who feel British, and they're wearing like our parents generation. But I think the version of lessness that Britain accepts is like, you can be Muslim on the outside. Yeah, you can have in you can have a Muslim name, but you, you need to be like a blank slate on the inside that we can, we can shape as a as like a nation state. And I think I think I used to buy into this idea that like, oh, yeah, my British-ness and my Muslim-ness are equal, and they're totally compatible. But lately, I just feel and it is, again, with everything that's happening in Gaza. I just feel like, I feel like the West has proven itself incompatible with Islam, because because of like, all the all that it stands for, like, how can this nation like support and fund a genocide and criminalise anyone who speaks up against it? Like, if that is what this nation stands for, then I don't want to be I don't want to be compatible with it. Right. And I feel a bit of rejection, I think, to be honest, in the last few months, because of Palestine, I feel like I don't I don't want to try and align myself with this nation that that doesn't see anything wrong with almost 30,000 Massacred Palestinians, funded by our taxes and supported by our politicians. And I think Britain is also at the same time trying to make Islam incompatible, because then it feeds into its agenda of criminalising us. Like, just a couple of weeks ago, the head of counter terror policing acknowledged that everything that's happening in Palestine is is like a radicalization moment, like, like the Iraq war was for previous generations. At the same time, they're acknowledging what their own policies are doing. But then like heightening their criminalization of us at the same time. Like, hey, you can acknowledge that your own policies are causing that disenfranchisement in in us as Muslims, but then you're just using it as an excuse to heighten us, though it feels. I feel like as I'm just in community, we're being pushed and pushed and pushed to a point where we can only be criminalised because the you know, the government or the state is trying to make us incompatible. So then it can criminalise our incompatibility, if that makes sense.
Samia Aziz:Yeah, I mean, it's been, it's been a good few years that I've actually thought too much about how British I will have British I feel, I think it was, it was like it was it was this like buzz conversation that was happening, kind of like 2010 to 2015, I'd say and after 2015, there's been a shift in it. I remember that was constantly I went to so many panels about, can you be British and Muslim like so I went to so many events, there were so many of these happening all the time. Right? And that you had different Muslim speaking on them, is all this idea about how Muslim values are aligned with British values. But I do think that there has been this like shift in it. And I just don't, I haven't found that to be a particularly important or nuanced conversation. I think identity is so multi layered and complex and individual as well, that almost conversations like that are almost irrelevant, or just like invalid, almost it doesn't seem to make a huge deal of sense anymore. But I really share your your sort of disappointment and frustration and also real worry about the future like what does it mean for people like us for our generation for future generations of Muslims and our people of colour, like, what is going to happen to us? And I think one of the things that I have been feeling increasingly frustrated with, especially around Palestine, and Gaza is just a reminder of what not just what Britain is doing now what what Britain has done historically over hundreds of years. And my family is Pakistani we are we have been directly impacted by colonial rule. The absolute bloodshed and chaos that was caused in the region in the 1940s. And in Palestine like it, we cannot look at what is happening around the world right now, without understanding what Britain and later what the US have done historically and continually historically, as well. It wasn't as if they left and they learned from it they continued causing havoc. up and causing bloodshed and decrying wars and all kinds of horrible, horrible racist and Islamophobic things around the world. One thing I'm struggling with on a massive level at the moment, because I don't know what to do with it, I don't know what to do with this frustration and this grief and some of this, like anger, almost it's coming out, because I don't I don't know, I don't think I don't think maybe there is an answer. But I think educating ourselves about it is is also important. Because if we understand what happened, we have a better understanding of what's going on right now. And that gives us an understanding of what could happen in the future, but also what we really need to do. Now. I mean, I still can't believe that we are over four months into this war on Gaza, and there has not been a ceasefire called I'm still I'm just beyond devastated. But like 30,000 people have been killed so far. And just over the last few days, at time of recording the intense attacks on Rafa where we have over 1.2 million people have been sent. It just, I can't there's there's actually no, there's no words for it. I don't understand it, I don't understand why it's not being stopped. I understand some of the larger agendas for sure. But like this bloodshed, like, I just don't understand how in our world today, in our quote, unquote, free world today, where you know, it's 2024, where we're seeing this play out in the way that it's playing out, um, people have the ability to, like, switch off, you know, if the founder of Twitter was like, I'm gonna pull my services in Israel, and I'm going to pull myself is in the United States, there's one decision for him to make, but it could have massive consequences and could achieve so much by those things are not being done at the moment.
Nadeine Asbali:I think like, the most alarming thing is that all that all this confusion and anger, we're feeling, like, obviously, I'm a secondary school teacher, and I teach a lot of Muslim children and like, they're feeling that tenfold. And I think, like for our I really worry kind of current teenage Muslims, because that's such a like, disenfranchising, like, disorienting experience to grow up with, like seeing every time they open their phone, they're seeing like the mangled bodies of Palestinian children. And then at school, they're not allowed about it. You know, the government is saying protesting about it is is like extremism that, you know, there's there's no outlet for them. Like, I really fear for what that does to them on, like a mental health level. And I feel like it's a massive safeguarding issue in schools that we've got these children dealing with such complex feelings, and they have no outlet because if they talk about it, then they could get to prevent for being radicalised and I think everything we're feeling adults, like, I can only imagine what feeling that whilst just going through your normal teenage issues a, it really worries me the next generation.
Samia Aziz:Yeah, absolutely. Yeah, it's really, it's really scary. I mean, I guess, I guess the only thing we can continue to do is to do the good work, and to hope that we're able to create spaces where conversations can happen that can give some sort of closure and like just help people to also just process what they're going through. If if there is not much else that we can do that will impact things politically. But I think so long as we're continuing our, to keep our spaces alive and well continuing to keep her identities alive and to have these conversations and speaking about identity actually, you also write in the book about representation in media and you you make a reference to the character of Shabnam from EastEnders, which, which I really enjoyed reading about because I have seen it I have seen, I remember when, when she came on to the show, because that family was an absolute mess. And, and they said I remember my sister saying at the time that they've done lots of research, to really sit there said this can be really good. This is what what what are your thoughts on representation in media and public spaces? Because obviously, we're seeing more people Muslim or brown or black, we're definitely seeing it but what what do you think about how positive or how good that representation really is?
Nadeine Asbali:I might sound like a harsh critic here, but I think it's all quite I can't I really struggled to think of one character in like a film or TV show, who I felt like, I'm really happy with the plantation, as always, like when it's Muslim women. And that's why I talked about that opening scene of bodyguard. I don't know if you saw what he got. It was just so typical of how they're portrayed. Like, at first, she's this meek, like victim of her terrorist husband, and she has been like, strapped with a bomb and forced to like blow herself up because her husband told her to. So then that's like, ticking all the boxes of like Islamophobia. And then it turns out that actually, she's the terrorist mastermind. And she was just using that to make them think she's a victim. But actually, she's the terrorists. And then I was like, That just shows like, that shows how how that duality of like, we're either a victim or we are a terrorist in disguise. And I think, all portrayals of us on TV and in films, they're always something like that. Like, there's always either we're having some kind of crisis with our faith with our hijab, or there's a secret white boyfriend somewhere, or, you know, our parents are really controlling, and there's always some, and, obviously, you know, Muslim women are not a monolith. Of course, there are Muslim women who have those, you know, scenarios going on in their lives. But I think it's really telling why they're the ones that get portrayed. And there's just, there's never, that I can think of, and I think I seek out like, when there's gonna be a Muslim, something, I seek out trying to watch it. And I can't think of anything where she's just been, like, fine about her faith, or even like, I think that programme, We Are Lady Parts, I think it's called on Channel Four that got a lot of praise from Muslim women. And it's about like a Muslim rock band. And it was written by a Muslim woman. But I just also found that if I'm honest, quite problematic, because I think Muslim women always have to be like humanised to be, like palatable, like, why do we need to, like, you know, throwing around the effort and like playing the guitar and like doing all of that stuff to make us human. Now to the British public that we're allowed on the screen. Why don't we just be like, ourselves, like, I think like, maybe in books, we're doing slightly better. So like writers like Leila, Leila, and they wish her scene I think we get like, well rounded, proper Muslim characters in their books. And by proper I don't mean that in a judgmental way, I just mean, like, that. They're just like, your normal practising Muslim who's not like desperate to leave, or not desperate to, like, you know? Or, like, a lot of the time in TV will. There'll be a practising Muslim and then suddenly, you'll see that they're like, there was one show. I remember what it was called, but she was like working for like, my phone, or am I fit for something? And I'm just like, come on, like, oh, there's always something like that in the army of it in the police. Like there's always something that they do to make palatable. We never to have have our own story.
Samia Aziz:Yeah, yeah. No, it's true. Like I, I mean, it's like in TV. I don't think I've ever seen a Muslim character that I feel like is just like normal. We don't we don't ever see a sort of like a nuanced perspective, by the characters really, that likes our faith and our community. They're always at odds, they're always either want to go clubbing and do it secretly, or they want to like, they have a boyfriend a secret, and he's a white boyfriend. And there's always that sort of like white saviours and was always keeping it and it's very frustrating. But you're right, like the literature I think is, is slightly better level or less. I was just saying, you know, even Sahar Mustafa with that beautiful the beauty of your face. Like, I think there's some really interesting work being written. I don't know if we're ever going to see that what we're looking for on TV, to be honest, and I've kind of accepted it, I think, but yeah, but I'm glad at least literature seems to be changing slightly. So what are you really hoping for the book? Like what? What has been your like ambition, in terms of what you want people to take away from it as they pick it up?
Nadeine Asbali:I think I want Muslim women like visibly Muslim women to feel like someone is has written on the page, like how they've been feeling. And I think, Alhamdulillah, some of the feedback I've got so far is that yeah, this is like what I've always felt and always thought and I've never seen it written on a page before, which is that's really, really nice to hear people like resonates In that way with it, but I also want it to be like, Why do you read by white women in particular, also white men, especially people who consider themselves feminists, so that they think about how their feminism exclude us. And not only excuse us, but how their feminism is built, like, a built on our bodies, like, built upon us, being the victim, or being their, you know, their little project to save. So I want it to, in an ideal world, I want people to pick it up and change the way they view Western women, which I know is a big, big ask of it, but I hope inshallah I can do that in some way.
Samia Aziz:Inshallah, and I just ask you, that was going to be my final question. But I just want to say that you in the book, you also talk about misogyny, misogyny formed within the Muslim community. So I think that for Muslim men, and the way that Muslim women especially like hijabi, women, as well experienced mysoginy from Muslim men typically, uncle's but also younger. So men, you know, in the way that some of them are mosques are not inclusive. And I know you've been asked a lot of times, because I've, like had a look at some of the interviews that you've done, about whether or not you were worried about perpetuating stereotypes and calling out your own community, and I just wanted to take a moment to say that, you know, when we love something, and I think this extends to people and communities, we have to talk about their flaws in order to encourage improvement. That's what it's about, right? Like, if we don't acknowledge the problems within ourselves, we're never going to get better. If we're not calling out that uncles in our community that creep out Muslim pyjamas and have ridiculously horrible views. They're never going to stop. Yeah, it's important to do that, I guess, obviously, there is a fear that there will be people that will read your entire book, and will just pick up on that one issue and be like, Oh, hello, she's calling out the men in her community, and therefore, you know, almost in manner, but that may well happen. But that's not. That's not what you're trying to do. If that is what happens, and you know that that person that picked up the book was never really willing to embrace and never really open to what it is that you're trying to say. I certainly I don't know if anyone has said anything unkind or anything like that. But I really like, I really appreciate the fact that you are so open about it. Because it is it is the experience of so many Muslim women. And yeah, sometimes we feel like, it's difficult to call our own when everyone else is already kind of like calling us out and trying to raise us and criminalise us. And it's very difficult to feel like you're adding to that. But we need to do that for the sake of progress for our own progress and to hold each other to account because we have to protect ourselves and one another.
Nadeine Asbali:Yeah, thank you. I really am glad to hear, because I was nervous about writing that because I wanted to get it right. And I didn't want to obviously be subjected to like people saying, oh, Muslim men or women were mysoginists all along, like thank you, Nadeine, for proving it. But I didn't want that. But I also didn't want. Because I know I would be so frustrated if I picked up a book written by a Muslim woman. And it just fed into all those stereotypes about Muslim men. So I really tried to tread the line carefully. And I like I really liked how you put it because it is out of love. Like you love your community. You love your faith, you feel like protective over it. And that's why we want better for it right? Because we don't want the next generation of Muslim women and men to be perpetuating the same things we've had to go through. Yeah, hope that. So far, nobody has just picked up on that part and nothing else.
Samia Aziz:Well, I'm glad and Nadeine, it has been so wonderful speaking to you today. Thank you so much for your time.
Nadeine Asbali:Thank you so much.
Samia Aziz:It was so great. Speaking to Nadine on the show today and I really hope that you enjoyed this episode. Please do follow, like and subscribe on your podcast platform of choice. And I'd really appreciate it if you could leave a review because it really helps. Thank you so much. Come and find me on social media. I'd love to chat