Introduction

1The promotion of women’s rights has long been regarded as a “secular project” by activists and women’s rights organizations committed to a secular-liberal paradigm. (Kirmani and Phillips 2011). The feminist literature is replete with the idea that religion is a patriarchal institution which perpetuates gender inequality. Islam, in particular, gains disrepute for being “anti-women” and supporting a social system in which women are economically and politically marginalized. In this framework, Muslim women are commonly portrayed as passive victims in need of saving from Islam and Muslim men, even when they themselves have been resentful of such concerns (Abu-Lughod 2013; Al-Hibri 1997). In India, the root cause of Muslim women’s inferior status has been linked to Islam, especially to the religion-based Muslim Personal Law (MPL) (to be further explained below). Such a monolithic approach to understanding Muslim women’s issues ignores the fact that Indian Muslim women are not “homogeneous, and are differentiated along the fault lines of class, caste, community, and region” (Saeed 2005:119). Their social reality and expectations are diverse and contextual (Sakai and Yasmeen 2016). Muslims in India are themselves divided into different sects, each subscribing to a different system of jurisprudence (Kazi 1999). However, ignoring such realities, in India and elsewhere, the life experiences of Muslim women have been abstracted into “a binary model of subordination and resistance, coercion and choice” (Jacobsen 2011:65). This dichotomous categorization effectively denies the possibility of examining the social lives of Muslim women in specific socio-political and cultural contexts. It essentializes the complexity of Muslim women’s lives and disregards forms of agency that do not fit predetermined Western conceptions of freedom and autonomy (Abu-Lughod 2013; Mahmood 2005). Against this backdrop, the article shifts the debate on the resistance vs. submission dichotomy to expand our understanding of the agency of Muslim women that does not necessarily imply desire for freedom from or subversion of norms, but rather “the capacity to act according to the demands of the specific socio-cultural context” (Malmstrom 2012:24). Instead of focusing on the oppositions and challenges that Muslim women are expected to pose to “religion” and “state” (Suneetha 2012), this article examines how Muslim women activists engage with traditional structures and sources of authority and negotiate various aspects of their lives while striving towards self-reliance achieved through a combination of knowledge, skills, and control of the living environment in the societies to which they belong. This article mainly discusses various strategies adopted by Muslim women activists vis-a-vis the global Islamic feminist movement while dealing with everyday life matters. The strategies include: staging liberal interpretations of Islamic scriptures; promoting reading of the Qur´an in native languages; taking over the role of mediators to resolve marital/familial conflicts; empowering women through education and awareness; and involving them in income-generating activities, often with state support.

5Thus, the decision to choose these organizations is related to their significance in advocating for the socio-economic upliftment of Muslim women, and creating awareness of equality and justice in the areas of family law and political and civic rights while engaging with discourse on women’s rights in Islam. The Islamic feminists worldwide aim is to expand the space of women’s rights in Islam through gender-inclusive analysis of the Qur´an (Wadud 2009). Similar to Islamic feminists, Muslim women activists in India, including the Muslim women in this study, are also invested in promoting women’s rights through engaging with the Qur´an (Schneider 2009; Vatuk 2008; Jones 2020). Despite a similar exegetical approach focusing on Qur´anic interpretation, it is important to stress at this point that these women cannot be termed “Islamic feminists,” but rather, more accurately, “Muslim activists.” Many interviewees echoed their concerns regarding feminism, especially radical or Marxist feminism, as that carries a negative connotation and aligns with secularism. In India, feminism is often perceived as a foreign concept, and feminists are generally viewed as men-haters and home destroyers (Khan and Bhasin 2004). In Muslim societies, specifically, feminism is regarded as against Islamic tradition and culture. Therefore, a Muslim woman who identifies herself as a “feminist” or a “communist” is assumed to be a kafir (non-believer or atheist) (Rasheed and Sharma 2021). Hence, to dilute such assumptions and to gain acceptance within Muslim communities, these women embrace the image of “respectable Muslim women’s activist” through their appearance and actions in public spaces (Tschalaer 2015). While attempting to address social issues pertinent to Muslim women, they choose to work within a religious framework which they find relevant and acceptable to Muslims, including Muslim women. Although, in the strict sense of the term, “Islamic” is perceived as something divinely ordained, unmediated by human reasoning and interpretation (Kamali 2009), women activists endorse diversity in the interpretations of the Qur´an and, instead of acquiescing in traditionalist interpretations, advocate for critical engagement with those interpretations to formulate their own religious opinions. Hence, the term “Muslim” is more appropriate to emphasize the human role in defining what is seen as Islamic and what is not. In the second place, the term “Islamic” denotes a normative order, whereas “Muslim” denotes an individual who happens to be a Muslim, but cannot be defined narrowly as one who strictly adheres to the shari´ah, or Islamic law. Woodward (1988), in his study of Islam in Java, found that Kejawen Muslims, in keeping with the moderate Sufi view, actively neglect the ritual practices mandated by the shari´ah, such as five daily prayers, fasting during the month of Ramadan, payment of zakat (alms), and pilgrimage to Mecca, yet consider themselves to be Muslims. He suggested that instead of arguing for the normativeness of Islam, the main focus should be on understanding “the degree to which core symbols, beliefs, and modes of religious action are derived from interpretation of Muslim texts and tradition rather than the extent to which religious behavior corresponds to a shari´ah-minded conception of piety” (p. 62). Thus, “Muslim women’s activism” neither ignores the discourse of those women who are Muslim, nor necessarily confines itself to an Islamic framework. To advocate for women’s rights, they draw equally from religious sources, i.e., the Qur´an and hadiths, and secular sources, i.e., the Indian Constitution and state laws. Considering this, it would be unjust to categorize these women as active or passive believers in Islam because this would lead to their forced expulsion from the ranks of believers and would be reckless labeling.

6Much of the fieldwork for this research was conducted when the country was witnessing a shift in the political paradigm. The Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), a right-wing political party, came to power in 2014—on the back of a Hindu nationalist agenda. Since then, anti-Muslim animus and minority discrimination have gained fervor. Hate crimes against religious minorities, especially Muslims, have increased in quantity and kind. There have been numerous incidents of Muslims being threatened, lynched, beaten, and murdered in different states of the country by “cow protection” vigilante groups and those involved in “anti-love jihad” campaigns (Minority Rights Group 2017). This has contributed to an overall atmosphere of intolerance, which has left Muslims feeling insecure and vulnerable to the threat of communal violence. In a politically heightened context, the question of trust was crucial in gaining access to the Muslim women’s organizations. Therefore, to facilitate my entry into the field, I sought the help of acquaintances in Lucknow who were already in touch with some of the key women activists included in the study. They either introduced me to these women in person or gave me their contact numbers, which helped me make appropriate contacts and carve my way into their organizations. To get familiar with other women members, I visited the general meetings of these organizations, held monthly or occasionally. Initially, building a rapport was not easy because of the general wariness of Muslims emanating from the conditions mentioned above. Some women members were suspicious of my identity. They might have taken me for someone with ulterior motives or as one of those Muslims who side with the BJP. Even my “Muslim” identity could not save me from their apprehension. They enquired about my personal details, such as my family background, place of residence, and the nature of my research work. However, I tried to overcome their circumspection by involving and engaging with them in every possible way. I was cautious about their sensibilities in terms of dress, language, and communication. For instance, I dressed myself in a salwar kameez (a loose pleated trouser worn with a long tunic) and covered my head with a dupatta (a long scarf-like cloth) in public meetings or when visiting their homes. I spoke primarily in Hindustani, a mixture of Urdu and Hindi, and took great care that my personal opinions did not affect their responses.

7A series of recorded interviews and discussions were held with 30 Muslim women activists either during organization meetings, or at their homes and offices. Here, the term “activists” includes all those women who have played active roles in their respective organizations, as co-founders, leaders, members, and beneficiaries. These women activists, in the age group of 22 to 65 years, belonged to different social classes, educational backgrounds, and occupations. While most of them were housewives, some were students, and others worked in private firms as salesperson, receptionist, and nurse. Just two of them were involved in government jobs as schoolteacher and college librarian. Such inclusivity helped capture the diverse perspectives, capacities, and expectations of Muslim women about their situations while navigating cultural and religious challenges, and also striving to reform their communities while engaging with the state, and other stakeholders. The interviews were supplemented with archival material, mostly in the form of magazines and other documents published by the above-mentioned organizations. To gather rich data, women activists were accompanied to different sites of their activities (i.e., field sites, rallies and demonstrations, press conferences), which contributed to a better understanding of their context and situation, and how these shaped their everyday experiences. To ensure transparency during data collection, the activists were informed of the broad goals and purpose of my fieldwork activities.

Muslim Women, Marriage, and Divorce: Observations from the Field

• 7 Interview with Hiba Bano (pseudonym) January 6, 2016.

When my husband divorced me, I asked a cleric if this kind of divorce is recognized under shari´ah. He replied in the affirmative. I then inquired, what would happen to me in this case? What position would I hold in society (as a divorcee)? To which he replied that I would be rewarded in heaven for this wrongdoing. Does it mean that to get rewarded in heaven, a woman must die first because she holds no value until then?7

10While Islam allows both men and women to seek divorce and theoretically gives each the same rights, in practice divorce is regarded as taboo, especially for women. In India, there is cultural, religious, and social stigma attached to divorce. The failure of marriage is seen as resulting from the “woman’s fault and a reflection of her character, morals, or [lack of] child-bearing ability” (Hornbeck et al. 2007:277). After divorce, staying at her natal home is not a decent option for a woman as she might “no longer receive the love, honor and respect that she enjoyed there earlier” (Greenberg 2003:837). Looked on as a liability, such women face resentment from brothers and their wives that leads to compromise and tension (Kishwar 1999). Reflecting on her experience of being a divorcee, Hiba Bano said:

In our society, a woman’s divorce is viewed negatively. Although Islam gives the right to a widow or a divorced woman to remarry, people in general disapprove of it. My sister-in-law (brother’s wife) keeps a check on me and forbids me from wearing nice clothes. She keeps telling me that since I am divorced, I should stick to a particular kind of dress code suited to divorced women. She objects even if I put bangles on. Such restrictions make me feel bad about myself.

11In India, especially among Hindus, divorced women and widows in particular are looked down upon because they are considered inauspicious. Several restrictions are placed on them relating to their diet and socio-religious life. They are discouraged from remarrying and expected to leave aside their colorful clothes, and they are often excluded from social and religious activities (Jensen 2005). Sociologists and anthropologists have documented the persistence of such Hindu beliefs and practices among Indian Muslims too. For instance, while dealing with kinship and marriage patterns among Indian Muslims, Ahmad (1976) concluded that Muslim familial life exhibits an amalgamation of Islamic and Hindu traditions. The customs and rituals observed by Muslim communities in marriage are adaptations of customs and rituals observed by Hindus within the region or the continuation of those practices after conversion to Islam generations ago (see Mulla 2013). In another case, Farzana Khatoon, along with her two children, a son and a daughter, aged 8 and 10, shifted to the house of her parents, who supported her with all means, even in filing a court case for maintenance and divorce, after repeated failed attempts at reconciliation with her husband. However, after their deaths, she not only faced financial hardships, but was also left at odds with her three brothers and their wives. She narrated her hardships while staying at her parents’ house:

• 8 Interview with Farzana Khatoon (pseudonym) July 10, 2016.

When my case happened, I had the support of my parents. But when they died, I found myself in a difficult situation. Though my brothers initially supported me, when they got married, they had their own families to look after. Over time, they and their wives vented their displeasure at my staying in the same house. Due to that, we often indulge in disputes. Living in such an environment has been tough for me and my children. I would say one cannot rely on brothers for long-term support.8

12Finally, to support her everyday expenses, including the money incurred in court case proceedings, and to take care of her children, she worked in a beauty salon while staying in the same house, although in a separate section.

13It was reported that during the divorce process or after divorce, children stayed with mothers, while husbands abdicated the responsibility of paying for their maintenance. In the case of Hiba Bano, her husband refused to financially support her and his daughter, Naima, after which she filed a civil case to demand monthly maintenance from her husband. The court, on assessment of his income, granted Rs. 500 in interim maintenance. But even after the court’s direction, he did not pay maintenance regularly. In another case, Tasneem, 31, who works in a private nursing center, filed for a civil divorce. It was found that her application for interim maintenance under Section 125 Cr.P.C. has remained pending before the court for three years now. During this period, she moved successive applications for enforcement orders from time to time. Besides, those women who approached a civil court to seek justice also expressed their dissatisfaction with the functioning of state courts with respect to costs and long delays in legal proceedings (see Rasheed and Sharma 2021). Recent empirical studies on the subject also reveal Muslim women’s reluctance to resort to formal courts and their frequent requests to extra-judicial bodies to negotiate their marital disputes, including divorce pleas (Lemons 2019; Tschalaer 2017; Vatuk 2017; Dutta 2021). Redding (2020) reported how, in certain situations, Muslim women attempt tactical maneuvering by pressurizing their unwilling husbands to pronounce talaq (the traditional Muslim unilateral divorce), an easier exit route from marriage than seeking divorce under the Dissolution of Muslim Marriages Act, 1939. She demonstrated that though Muslim women do not prioritize the formal legal arena to end marriage, they often pursue the state’s criminal law system as a means to intimidate their husbands and thereby effectuate an extra-judicial divorce. In this study, it was apparent in interviews with distressed women that the onus of making the marriage work ultimately falls on women, who resort to women-run mediation centers to achieve reconciliation. Muslim women in distress routinely seek counseling services from prominent women activists to resolve their familial/marital disputes. However, the outcome of mediation depends mainly on the nature of the case and the willingness of the parties to find a solution to their conflict. Since mediation is a voluntary process, disputants’ intentions to reach a settlement is of prime importance.

14Hence, multiple mechanisms shape family life and hinder women’s ability to control outcomes in marriage and divorce regardless of the religion to which they belong, making it difficult for them to achieve gender equality in marriage and family relations. These include: the burden of poverty, customary traditions, societal pressures, and existing loopholes in the legal system. That is to say that the challenges that Indian Muslim women face in their marriages are not necessarily related to their religious identity, but are embedded in structural divisions and socio-cultural contexts (Vatuk 2017). Many gender-based discriminations and inequalities emanate from “multiple and overlapping patriarchies” arranged at local, community, and state levels, and work on women of other religious communities as well (Sangari 1999:21). Despite this common reality, Muslim women are still portrayed as most vulnerable, deprived of agency, and in need of external help to be liberated from repressive religious family laws.

Muslim women activists and their role in reforming communities

Reviewing interpretations of Islamic scriptures

15In the Islamic tradition, the interpretation of the religious texts has been the arena of those who have “legitimate authority” or are “schooled in various Qur´anic sciences” (Sardar 2011:31). In that way, male religious clerics alone have had the authority to interpret religious scriptures. In India, too, women are not encouraged to engage in an interpretative understanding of the Qur´an and, as a result, they are denied religious rights due to misinterpretations of the Islamic texts by male clerics. The women activists in the study attributed such discrimination to the existence of the patriarchy, flawed educational structure, and lack of learning resources for women in Muslim-dominated neighborhoods. Critics have argued that the majority of Indian madrasas (literally a “place of instruction,” especially instruction in Islamic theology and religious law) follow a traditionalist teaching style comprising the memorization and recitation of the Qur´an, Islamic history and culture, and oppose the idea of modern education (Bandyopadhyay 2002; Jhingran 2006). In the same vein, Sikand (2008) maintained that traditional ulema discourage logical reflection, questioning, and inquiry into Islamic theology and jurisprudence as this would undermine their power to speak authoritatively for Islam. On the contrary, some scholars have highlighted the rich and multifaceted tradition of madrasa learning in South Asia, particularly India. They opined that Muslim jurists, in fact, undergo rigorous training in Islamic sciences and are deeply conversant with the Hanafi tradition of Islamic law (Alam 2011; Zaman 2007). Even some highly regarded madrasas, such as Dar-ul-`Uloom Nadwatul Ulama, which since its inception has aimed “to combine full madrasa training with Western- style education” (Metcalf 2007:93). However, the lack of infrastructural and institutional facilities for women remains a fact. The majority of Islamic seminaries have traditionally been reserved for males and do not have provisions to admit female students to train in Islamic jurisprudence. In this regard Afsana Lateef, 48, a member of BeK stated:

• 9 Interview with Afsana Lateef (pseudonym) October 13, 2015.

There are, in fact, few institutions meant for the Islamic education of Muslim women. We have reputed institutions like Nadwa and Deoband. But they are meant only for boys. Therefore, only boys could be muftis and qazis. There are no courses for women in these institutions, except for a few madrasas imparting basic knowledge on religion. I agree that to be a mufti, one has to slog a lot. Yet, it is not true that girls cannot do such courses, it is just that it is assumed to be unimportant for women to be a qazi or mufti.9

16In the Indian subcontinent, the culture of separate madrasas for women is only of recent origin, and most of them are “subsidiary units of organizations run by men” (Mushtaq 2010:12). Owing to this, they have certain limitations in interpreting religious texts in a gender-neutral manner. Another major issue is the difference in the formal curriculum taught in boys and girls madrasas, where there is little similarity at the level of religious subjects. Winkelmann (2005) in her ethnographic work on a girls’ madrasa in Delhi, observed that while boys undergo rigorous training to excel in all the branches of religious science, girls are either left out entirely or partially introduced to the fields of Islamic law, logic, and philosophy. Their curriculum is designed or cut short by the men in charge of the madrasa based on what they consider important for girls to know. Such differentiation results in women being handicapped when it comes to understanding religious texts and holding positions of religious authority. Though male qazis have been the norm (Smith 1995), efforts are being made in several Muslim majority countries, such as Indonesia, Malaysia, Pakistan, Tunisia, and Egypt (Munezza 2014), along with Muslim minority countries, such as Sri Lanka and India (Ramzy and Ghavifekr 2019; Tschalaer 2017) towards the inclusion and representation of women qazis in the Islamic legal system. In 2016, BMMA initiated a training program called Dar-ul-`Uloom-i-Niswan, a program focused on imparting training to women in Islamic theology and history, schools of jurisprudence, and the Indian Constitution. It also aimed to acquaint the trainees with the core ideas of Islamic feminism, i.e., a global feminist movement that evokes the Qur´an and hadiths to seek rights and justice for women (Badran 2006). The formal training legitimizes women’s position as counselors and mediators for parties in dispute regarding marriage, family, and other matters within communities (Jones 2019). Ethnographic works of Dutta (2022) and Jones (2019) in women’s shari´ah courts run by BMMA in Mumbai show that, while assisting Muslim women in resolving marital conflicts, the women qazis not only make up for the existing patriarchy in both state and non-state dispute resolution forums, but also provide an effective alternative to the marginalized sections who are hesitant to approach formal legal institutions to seek help.

• 11 Interview with Shaista Amber February 6, 2016.

When you read the Qur´an, you understand the difference between right and wrong, good and bad. The Qur´an emphasizes equality and justice. But if these two virtues are absent, it means that Qur´anic values are being flouted. Everyone must read the last sermon of Prophet Mohammad. He clearly told, after his death, to consider only those hadiths which are consistent with the Qur´an. God has given us a mind to apply. We match the Qur´anic verses with the hadiths of Prophet Mohammad to reach a reasonable outcome.11

• 13 Interview with Firdaus Hashmi (pseudonym) December 20, 2015.

When we don’t read, why do we complain? Women and young girls flip the pages of fashion magazines, but they are not interested in reading and knowing about their rights. There is a need to search for the truth, and the onus is on us. We cannot just blame clerics for our situation. Some women only go through one tafsir and derive a conclusion. They blame all scholars for being biased. But they don’t understand that engaging with the Qur´an is a continuous process and that they must be careful while selecting tafsirs.13

The promotion of reading the Qur´an in native languages and linguistic activism through institutional means

20Language has a potential impact on women’s rights discourse (Wanitzek 2002). This section explains how Muslim women activists contest patriarchal norms and respond to gender bias by employing linguistic practices to promote equality. Traditionally, the Qur´an and other Islamic texts were read in Arabic. In India, the Tablighi Jama´at, a revivalist movement which dates from the 1920s, played a key role in translating Islamic texts into vernacular languages, primarily Urdu, to impart correct religious practice to a larger number of Muslims (Metcalf 1993). Urdu holds social and religious significance for Muslims in India, and more so in North India, for two main reasons. First, Urdu was the main language of reformist Muslim discourse in the 19th century, resulting from the socio-political impact of colonial rule (Oesterheld 2017). The reform oriented Muslim male, and female writers, who hailed from an upper caste and class, assumed the leadership of various movements and sought transformation within Muslim communities in different spheres of life. The rich literature produced primarily by male social reformers promoted and encouraged women’s education. Such emphasis was based on the notion that women as household managers play an important role in the socialization of children and the preservation of family values. Therefore, women’s education was an essential requirement for the reformation of Muslim social, cultural, and religious life (Minault 1988). Literature ranged from guidebooks for Muslim women on religious teachings and the proper conduct of their everyday lives, such as Maulana Ashraf Ali Thanavi’s Bihishti Zewar (Jewel of Paradise 1905), to novels which focused on the lives of women who might represent alternative female role models, such as Khwajah Altaf Husain Hali’s Chup ki Dad (Homage to the Silent 1905) and Deputy Nazir Ahmad’s Mirat-ul-`Uroos (The Bride’s Mirror 1869). Female magazines and periodicals dedicated to the cause of reform included Syed Mumtaz Ali and his wife Muhammadi Begum’s Tehzeeb-e-Niswan (Women’s Etiquette 1898) and Shaikh Abdullah and his wife Waheed Jahan Begum’s Khaatoon (Woman 1904). The literature written by women focused specifically on female sexuality, religious orthodoxy, and traditional social mores (Pietrangelo 2004). These include: Nazar Sajjad Haider’s Ah-e Mazluman (The Sigh of the Oppressed 1913), Rasheed Jahan’s contributions to Angaarey (Burning Coals 1932), and Ismat Chugtai’s Lihaaf (The Quilt 1942) to name a few. This way, Urdu facilitated the literary revolution and became synonymous with social change.

21Second, Urdu serves as a bridge vis-a-vis understanding the Islamic textual sources, i.e., the Qur´an and hadiths which are originally in the Arabic language. Being aware of the lack of knowledge of Arabic, women activists emphasize reading and reviewing Islamic texts in local languages translated by eminent Islamic scholars. They consider reading the tarjumah (translation) of the Qur´an to be a working and more practical strategy for young Muslim girls and women attempting to be aware of their rights, hitherto camouflaged under the drape of the Arabic language, which has been used to reinforce male dominance over women. This approach seemed to be effective as one of the interviewees, Mehjabi Naaz, 42, a housewife who dropped out of school in fifth grade, acknowledged that she could not possibly have known about women’s rights without reading Qur´anic tafsir in Urdu. She said:

• 15 Sipara is one of thirty parts of varying lengths into which the Qur´an in divided.
• 16 Interview with Mehjabi Naaz (pseudonym) October 28, 2016.

In my childhood, I used to go to a madrasa located in a nearby mosque to read sipara15 and Urdu. Since our financial situation was not good enough, I used to do chikankari (hand embroidery) to earn money. My parents got me married quite early. Till then, I was ignorant about women’s rights. But, due to my involvement with the AIMWPLB, I engaged in reading tafsir which instilled in me an awareness concerning women’s rights in the Qur´an. Today, I am very supportive of my daughters. My elder daughter has a private job, and the younger one is in college. Some people think that I have given them undue freedom. But I don’t care. I know that I am on the right path.16

22Mehjabi Naaz lives in a low-income neighborhood with people having no access to adequate resources and with a lack of knowledge of alternatives. Being aware of women’s rights in the Qur´an, she disseminates the same in her neighborhood to bring about a change in the attitude towards women. She also helps couples with their familial/marital issues by advising and counseling them.

Empowerment through education, knowledge and awareness

24Muslim women activists endeavor to promote women’s empowerment through education and knowledge, and by raising awareness of issues like women’s rights in Islam, and also on issues specific to Indian society. Many meetings, workshops, and conferences are organized to make women aware not only of their socio-legal rights, but also of their duties as homemakers and community reformers. Activists believe that education has great potential to bring about social change within Muslim communities. But, due to financial constraints, poor Muslims generally fail to send their children to school. Naish Hasan, 45, the original co-founder of the BMMA, who is now associated with the Muslim Women League, has worked for the educational and social upliftment of women in poor, chiefly Muslim neighborhoods for many years. She informed me that the majority of the slum dwellers that she worked with were Muslims belonging to the lower strata of class and caste. Due to poverty and a lack of awareness, many parents fail to send their children to school. But, through her constant efforts and years of hard work, she succeeded in persuading some of the parents to educate their children for a better future. Eventually, she managed to send 59 children, both girls and boys, to a nearby school. She managed to cover their school fees, books, and school uniforms thanks to money collected through public funds and individual donations. She also connected a few girls with different NGOs and funding agencies and assisted them financially to pursue higher education. Gudiya, 23, a student who received an educational scholarship from one such agency, narrated:

• 18 Interview with Gudiya (pseudonym) November 27, 2016.

Girls in this area go to school because of Naish madam. She used to come to the basti (slum) to talk to people about several issues. Most people in this area are poor and illiterate; hence, they do not value education. Initially, she faced resentment, but over time, she gathered a few women and convinced them to send their children to school. I could go to college and obtain my bachelor’s degree with her help. I now want to pursue law.18

25Prominent women activists like Naish Hasan are well aware of the structural inequalities that Indian Muslims face and reiterate the findings of the Indian government’s high-level Committee, popularly known as the Sachar Committee Report (2006), to reflect upon their social, economic, political, and educational backwardness. They view Muslim women as members of the wider Muslim minority and, hence, link their inferior situation to the poor socio-economic condition of Muslims in general. Activists thus proactively demand the reservation of quotas for Muslims, both men and women, in education and government employment. Besides, women activists also focus on the need to empower Muslim women by strengthening their economic base, critically assessing their own situation, and shaping their lives without having to depend on others. They attempt, for instance, to build or establish income-generating activities for poor and vulnerable women, collaborate with government departments and institutions, such as the Labor Department and NABARD (National Bank for Agriculture and Rural Development), and disseminate information on the various schemes of state and central government agencies available to both men and women. In addition, in order to make women independent and increase their power in household decisions as well as in public affairs, women activists help women open personal bank accounts and obtain their ration, Aadhaar, and voter identity cards. Women activists also encourage the political participation of women (e.g., voting in elections, contesting elections, and campaigning), as this would allow their voices to be heard by the government, which would in turn improve the social conditions, and municipal services for Muslim women and children.

26Shehnaz Sidrat was exposed to social activism and national politics early in her life. Her nana (maternal grandfather) was the first elected chairman of the Moradabad city council. His assassination was allegedly planned and executed by the Muslim League because of his pro Congress-Gandhian standpoint. The Muslim League did not want a Muslim to represent Gandhian or Congress ideology. This was something detrimental to their politics of polarization, where they wanted Muslims, especially in Muslim populated areas, to consider them an undisputed representative of Muslims interests. Shehnaz Sidrat’s mother was an ardent Gandhian too. Besides, her father-in-law, Hayatullah Ansari, was a prominent writer and a well-known Congress leader. In 2009, Shehnaz Sidrat contested elections as an independent candidate from the Lucknow parliamentary constituency along with five other women candidates. She was the only woman to represent the Muslim woman’s body. In an interview, Shehnaz Sidrat highlighted the lack of Muslim women’s representation in politics and expressed her concern over the limitations of contemporary party politics in India. According to her, most political parties have so far ignored Muslim women’s issues and problems at the grassroots level. Peeved by the present political and social set-up, she expressed:

• 19 Interview with Shehnaz Sidrat December 28, 2015.

I think women’s political participation is extremely necessary. I had not contested the election for my personal interest. I fought it because I felt it was the need of the hour. From my own personal experience of thirty years, I have realized that irrespective of how much hard work I do, I won’t be able to do anything substantial for the weaker sections of my community unless I have political power in my hands. If I am talking about the rights of women, then I should have a strong and free voice through which I can put forth their problems and predicaments. And this is possible only through participation in general elections.19

Conclusion

28This paper argues against the binaries in which Muslim women are often placed and looks at them as individuals with autonomy and agency, rather than as victims and passive agents in society. As is the case with other world religions, gender inequality is a real problem within Muslim communities with regard to marriage and other social institutions. This study suggests that Muslim women activists employ individual strategies and networking to bring about change in personal power relations. They resort to multiple local and pragmatic strategies based on their needs, priorities, resources, and the socio-cultural contexts within which they operate. Some of these strategies are religious, while others are based on a broader human rights perspective. They stress the need to review interpretations of the Qur’an and assess hadiths in keeping with the gender-neutral instructions of the Qur´an. Since much of religious knowledge is passed on within communities through male clerics, there are instances of male bias resulting in discrimination against women: women activists thus emphasize the importance of developing critical thinking and investing in exegetical analyses of the Qur´an to bring forward ideas of justice in matters that affect patterns of marriage and gender relations. They also highlight women-friendly aspects of Islam through practicing ijtihad, which opens possibilities for social change. Consequently, women activists promote literacy, skills (especially for income-generating activities), and education for women on human rights and women’s issues to enable them to make informed decisions and improve their role in family and society. Besides, women activists act as mediators and counselors in issues regarding marriage and divorce, thereby creating an alternative space for women in need of legal assistance. Such strategic approaches help Muslim women not only in dealing with patriarchal attitudes, but also in ensuring gender equality in matters of religious family law and civic life.

29Though similar activities can be promoted and undertaken by secular women activists, groups, and NGOs, their hesitation to engage with religious discourses (De Cordier 2009), and their lack of “cultural proximity” (Benthall 2008) may serve as a hindrance in carrying out reforms and running development programs in Muslim communities. Moreover, the involvement of “perceived outsiders” can give rise to “fear and suspicion”, particularly in relation to gender-related issues (Kirmani and Phillips 2011:90). There have been instances of resistance from sections of Muslims to interference by the state in bringing about reforms within Muslim communities, especially when they fall within the scope of personal law (Vatuk 2014). Muslim women activists thus bridge the gap of distrust by initiating a reform movement that is assumed to produce an endogenous viewpoint on issues of gender justice in contemporary Muslim contexts. They offer an important ideological foundation to anchor and articulate Muslim women’s issues with limited resentment. They engage with the state and male religious clerics—as opposed to fighting against them, to be able to act and participate effectively in all aspects of life. In addition, state intervention is sought in redressing the problem of backwardness, implementing welfare policies, and demanding separate reservations for Muslims in the education and employment sectors. They also involve men, especially male clerics, in endorsing change within communities. The effective engagement with religious authorities starts with recognizing the interpretive work of those Islamic scholars who hold up liberal interpretations of the Qur´an and respecting their opinions. Their support helps women activists earn trust among the Muslim public. Such alliances seemingly reinforce submission or reproduce patriarchal constraints, but within the many hegemonies Muslim women are surrounded by, they constantly choose and negotiate power for better options and outcomes for themselves and for reform within their communities.