However, men also worry about finding work. Dawoud, a 25-year-old who was born in Saudia Arabia and came to Canada as a young child, recalls having difficulty finding a co-op work term, but suddenly 'began getting more interviews and job offers' after he deleted information about his involvement with Muslim organizations from his resume. Some potential employers pressure Canadian Muslims to abandon their religious customs. For example Umar, a 22-year-old Indian-Canadian with a long beard mentions that once at a job interview he was told by a potential employer to shave his beard if he wanted to work for their company. According to our interviewees, the labor market is a racialized space where they face blocked access and pressures to assimilate.

Canadian Muslims also have problems at airports and border crossings. While travelling abroad is a major headache, the extensive searching they experience within Canada is perhaps even more troubling. Several participants note problems associated with re-entering Canada. Zaahir, a 22-year-old Saudi-Canadian male, says:

Coming back to Canada has always been a problem. People would see that I am born in Saudi Arabia, that I am a Muslim, my family is all Muslim, so based on that they spend a lot of time going through our belongings or doing security checks. The reason why I see it as unfair is that we have been Canadians for 18 years without a blemish or any bad records.

Many of our participants feel that state surveillance practices at borders target them as potential threats to Canada—not as citizens. Although they have legal citizenship in Canada, they fear their rights can be revoked, especially when they are treated as if they do not belong in Canada.

What do these experiences tell us about multiculturalism in Canada? It is often claimed that the intent of multiculturalism is to ensure that minorities are treated equally by and within the larger society [13]. The experiences of the Canadian Muslims in our study do not reflect this claim; instead, they support the assertion that the multicultural model in Canada does not equally value all groups [9,14,15,17,40]. Instead of showing respect for diversity, in Canada (and other western nations), Muslim cultural practices are considered inferior and inappropriate. Cultural racism, wherein mainstream society is considered culturally appropriate and racialized groups are imagined to be culturally incompatible [48], prevails in Canada. Furthermore, because multiculturalism posits Anglo-Canadian culture as the core culture [14], white Canadians often feel entitled to question the practices of Canadian Muslims or to banish them from public spaces. Finally, the discrimination Muslim Canadians face in social institutions such as the labor market reveals that multiculturalism does not ensure a meaningful redistribution of power, resources, and opportunity.

#### **6. Maintaining a Dual Canadian and Muslim Identity**

Although most of the Canadian Muslim youths we interviewed frequently experience harassment and discrimination because of their Muslim identities, we also found that many continue to assert a strong Canadian identity, often using the rubric and ideology of multiculturalism.

Although few participants (13 out of 50) recall feeling less attachment to their Canadian identity after 9/11, the majority do not. In fact, 27 claim they have a strong Canadian identity, while 10 have developed an even stronger sense of being Canadian, despite discrimination. For example, Aneesha, a hijab-wearing, Pakistan-born 20-year-old woman who came to Canada as a young child, claims that 9/11 affirmed both her Canadian and Muslim identities:

The aftermath of 9/11 did not change how I saw myself as a Canadian. I think it changed how I saw myself as a Muslim [by affirming my Muslim identity], but not as Canadian. I've always seen myself as a Canadian. Like, I've been to the Canadian public school system since I was in kindergarten…Like, I don't like to keep myself within a certain area. I like to help out in different ways. I'm Canadian.

Other interviewees agree with Aneesha. These findings correspond to results from the 2002 Ethnic Diversity Survey [49], which found that many racial minorities continue to express warmth towards Canada despite economic inequities.

Political and international policies can affect the way Muslims relate to Canadian society. Several participants claimed to have developed a stronger sense of being Canadians after 9/11 because of Canada's global image as a peacekeeping nation and because of the perception that Canada is more tolerant of Muslim communities than other western countries. Asima, a Canadian-born 23-year-old woman of Indian-East African background, is one of these:

I think I became the happiest person in the world to be a Canadian. I mean we did not enter the war in Iraq. We did not support America.  The kind of treatment you get by having Canadian citizenship is amazing. Just the whole thing Canada stands for I was proud of. I was extremely proud to be Canadian and was proud of the way we handled the whole situation.

The discrepancy between the young Canadian Muslims' experiences of discrimination and their strong sense of Canadian identity may be attributed to the ideology of multiculturalism. It appears that for many of these young Canadian Muslims, multicultural policies provide what Breton [50] refers to as 'symbolic statements' that help them carve out a space within Canadian society. Our study suggests that the ideology of multiculturalism plays a huge role in how young Canadian Muslims place themselves in Canadian society. They describe a Canadian as someone who is 'tolerant', 'open to living in a multicultural society', 'welcoming' and having 'respect and appreciation for other cultures'. Thus, they envision being Canadian to mean being a part of a society that is inclusive of many cultures and groups, a sentiment officially advocated by

multicultural policies since the 1970s. For instance, Sanya a 25-year-old woman born in Canada to an Indian-East African family, says the following:

I'm very happy to be Canadian. I think it's really a great society that it's multicultural; a lot of people from different backgrounds live here and are tolerant of each other. I know its cliché, but I'm proud to be Canadian because I just think that, you know, this country is more culturally tolerant than any other country in the world. Even though you're part of a visible minority group, you're still Canadian. You're still embraced into the Canadian culture. So you feel like everybody can be Canadian. I feel like it's sort of very welcoming, and that we try to respect and appreciate all cultures.

For our interviewees, multiculturalism is a crucial component of Canadian identity, inspiring them to hold onto to their Canadian identity despite living in a hostile environment. They believe that multiculturalism helps reduce racism by promoting cultural diversity and tolerance. Umar, a 22-year-old man, who was born in India and came to Canada four years ago, says: 'Multiculturalism encourages dialogue across cultures and ethnicities so it helps to deal with racial issues'. Moreover, many feel that multiculturalism has directly benefited Muslim communities in Canada. Yaman, a 25-year-old man, who was born in Canada and comes from an Indian background, mentions:

I think multiculturalism has helped a lot of communities in Canada, Muslim communities and others. I think it has helped me because without Toronto pushing for that in a lot different areas, I think it is possible that I would have been discriminated against more so. Yes, I think it has helped a lot.

Relying on the ideology of multiculturalism, young Canadian Muslims define the discrimination they encounter as being as anti-Canadian. Umar, a 25-year-old man who was born in Canada and who comes from an Indian background says:

They pushed me and called me 'terrorist' and told me to 'go home', so I got a little upset about that because I am in a university that teaches tolerance, acceptance, living in a multicultural Canadian society and the behavior they had towards me was the opposite of what that the university and society teaches.

Similarly, Zeba, a hijab-wearing 22-year-old female born in Canada but with an Indian background, resists discrimination by asserting her Canadian identity:

I don't like it. I mean I am Canadian. I'm born here and raised here. Just because I'm not a certain skin color does not necessarily mean I'm not Canadian. When people say 'I am not Canadian,' I become all rigid and tight inside. I'm member of society as anybody else.

Canada's national identity has historically been defined as 'white' [9,10,14], and as a result, Muslim Canadians fight to be recognized as Canadian despite holding Canadian citizenship. Through this resistance, they challenge the assertion that they do not belong in Canada.

However, as noted above, our participants retain a dual identity: they may be proud Canadians but they are also proud Muslims. Zeba says:

They ask me, 'So do you feel you're Muslim or do you feel you're more Canadian?' I've had people ask me this, and they think you can't be both, that somehow you have to pick one. And I think that's ridiculous, especially in a multicultural society to be asking something like that. I don't think there is a tension between the two. I think outsiders feel there's a tension, but I don't personally feel that there is a tension.

Our participants insist on maintaining their Canadian identities but they strongly assert their religious identities in the post 9/11 era. Fifteen participants indicate that their Muslim identity was a focal part of their identity before 9/11 and has remained so. Thirty-four say they have come to identify themselves more strongly as Muslims and feel a deeper connection to their faith in reaction to public reactions towards Muslims after 9/11. A total of 49 out of 50 participants maintain a strong Muslim identity or have affirmed their Muslim identity since 9/11. Radi, a 25-year-old Canadian-born man with a Pakistani background, comments:

After 9/11, I was more proud to be recognized as a Muslim than before. When I would be with Muslim sisters who would wear the headscarf, I would want to be recognized as a Muslim compared to anything else. I wanted people to know that I was not going to be drawn away from the faith. I wanted people to know that the true Islam is not what happened with 9/11.

Despite seeing their religion associated with terrorism and under pressure to abandon their religious customs, these young Canadian Muslims fight back. They feel that they have every right to follow their religion and to assert their Muslim identity.

Overall, our study shows that many young Canadian Muslims continue to hold a strong dual identity despite facing discrimination in Canadian society. They do so by adopting and exploiting the ideology of multiculturalism. Our findings show that despite the many problems of multiculturalism, racialized groups may use its ideology as a resource to resist discrimination and to ground their identities. Our findings are similar to Matt James [51] who asserts that multiculturalism has historically served as a tool for excluded and oppressed people to form a civic voice. Of course, our interviewees are well educated and therefore more knowledgeable about their rights and better able to articulate those rights than those who do not have higher education.

#### **7. Conclusions**

In recent years, multiculturalism has been declared a failure on the world stage. It has been criticized for fostering ethnic separatism and failing to provide a common sense of national identity in western nations. Many even fear that multiculturalism may encourage terrorism in western nations. Our study, however, shows little evidence of such multicultural dissention in Canada—at least among our sample of young Muslims. Rather, it appears that many retain a strong sense of Canadian identity in the face of discrimination by exploiting the ideology of multiculturalism.

In light of these findings, how are we to make sense of the discourse surrounding the 'failure' of multiculturalism, which often uses Muslims as the prime case in point? Our findings lead us to argue that this discourse is, in fact, a racialized one. Since 9/11, the idea that Islam is innately and historically at odds with western values and principles has gained momentum. This sentiment has been popularized by authors such as Huntington [52] through the idea of the 'clash of civilizations', and Caldwell [53]. In his more recent work, Huntington [54] continues to label Muslims as an indigestible minority in the western world and casts Muslims outside the realm of western civilization. In a similar tone, Caldwell disparages the possibility of Muslims truly assimilating into European societies, pointing out that '[i]t is deeply held beliefs, not skin color, that present the main challenge. Europe's predicament involves population decline, aging, immigration, and the steady implantation of a foreign religion and culture in city after city'

(p. 327). Since 9/11, this narrative of cultural clash has gained legitimacy among politicians, policy advisors and academics, and has taken center stage in debates of multiculturalism. In the recent cultural clash narrative, religion takes the place of race as the chief hindrance to modern society. Accordingly, whereas racism has been diminished by modernity and globalization, it is assumed that the inflexible nature of certain religions makes multicultural coexistence difficult.

Our research on Canadian Muslims illustrates that being Canadian and Muslim is not mutually exclusive, thereby challenging the 'clash of civilizations' framework. Other studies on British Muslims and American Muslims have reached similar conclusions. For example, Kibria [55] finds that despite the popular rhetoric that young Muslims in Britain reject their 'Britishness', many consider being 'British' as one of the most important aspects of their identities, one that coexists with their Muslim identities. Sirin and Fine [56] find that American Muslims value both their American and Muslim identities and utilize them simultaneously. These studies, along with ours, refute the idea that Muslim identities and western identities are irreconcilable.

The experiences of Canadian Muslims also reveal the inherent tensions and contradictions within multiculturalism. To be sure, many young Canadian Muslims live daily with contradictions of a national rhetoric that expounds of the multicultural citizenship rights on the one hand, and the reality of racial and ethnic discriminations at workplace, institutions, and public spaces on the other. The intensity of harassment and discriminations experienced by these Canadian Muslims should suggest that multiculturalism in Canada is failing them. However, what does it really mean for multiculturalism to 'fail'? If multiculturalism is to allow groups to maintain their cultural or religious identities while simultaneously adopting a western one, the Canadian Muslim case shows that it is not 'failing'; on the contrary, our interviewees maintain a dual Muslim and Canadian identity. Moreover, they maintain their dual Canadian Muslim identity by exploiting the ideology of multiculturalism in the face of discrimination. However, if the ultimate goal of multiculturalism is assimilation to the dominant culture, then perhaps it is 'failing', as Canadian Muslims do resist pressures of assimilation and instead work hard to retain their Muslim identities.

Mackey [15] reminds us that multiculturalism in Canada has been based on the management and controlling of difference—multicultures are fine as long as they are properly managed and remain loyal to the western project of nation building. Similarly, Ahmed [57] conveys that multiculturalism is often a contradictory process which distinguishes between those differences that it is willing to tolerate and those considered dangerous to even the most heterogeneous nations. In the post 9/11 era, Islam is seen as the biggest threat to western nations, and Muslim cultures and practices are no longer welcomed. The experiences of our interviewees make this abundantly clear. If any affiliation with Islam is perceived as a sign of disloyalty to the western world, then the refusal of Muslims to assimilate is most certainly seen as a 'failure' of multiculturalism.

#### **Conflicts of Interest**

The authors declare no conflict of interest.

#### **References**

## **Promoting the Everyday: Pro-Sharia Advocacy and Public Relations in Ontario, Canada's "Sharia Debate"**

**Jennifer A. Selby**

**Abstract:** Why, in the midst of public debates related to religion, are unrepresentative orthodox perspectives often positioned as illustrative of a religious tradition? How can more representative voices be encouraged? Political theorist Anne Phillips (2007) suggests that facilitating multi-voiced individual engagements effectively dismantles the monopolies of the most conservative that tend to privilege maleness. In this paper, with reference to the 2003–2005 faith-based arbitration debate in Ontario, Canada, I show how, in practice, Phillips' approach is unwieldy and does not work well in a sound-bite-necessitating culture. Instead, I argue that the "Sharia Debate" served as a catalyst for mainstream conservative Muslim groups in Ontario to develop public relations apparatuses that better facilitate the perspectives of everyday religious conservatives in the public sphere.

Reprinted from *Religions*. Cite as: Selby, J.A. "Promoting the Everyday: Pro-Sharia Advocacy and Public Relations in Ontario, Canada's "Sharia Debate"." *Religions* 4 (2013): 423–442.

#### **1. Introduction**

The 2003–2005 "Sharia Debate" in the province of Ontario, Canada offers a lens with which to consider why, in the absence of a clear interlocutor, an orthodox religious group was able to position itself as representative of mainstream Muslims who supported faith-based arbitration (FBA).1 This dominance is significant given the efforts made by an Ontario provincial government-appointed commissioner to facilitate broader more "everyday" responses. To reflect upon possible ways Western governments have sought to create democratized representative processes for minority Muslims that are not top-down state-created councils like the French Council of the Muslim Faith2 , I consider political theorist Anne Phillips' [5] suggestion that the reification of conservative

1 These kinds of debates and controversies receive a great deal of attention by journalists and academics. Yet, these requests are rare. Statham *et al.* ([1], p. 438) show in their analysis of group demands in the Netherlands, Britain and France from 1992–1998 that Muslim group requests for accommodation accounted for fewer than 3.5% of all such appeals to the government. They are, in short, extremely minor.

2 In 2003 French Interior Minister Nicolas Sarkozy created the *Conseil Français du Culte Musulman* (CFCM or French Council of the Muslim Faith). Sarkozy envisioned a representative body for French Muslims who could be called upon when input was needed. Christians and Jews had similar representation in place. The government's involvement with the CFCM has drawn criticisms about state interference. These remarks were sharpest with the appointment of Dalil Boubakeur by Sarkozy as the first council president and with complaints that the organization

religious men as spokespeople for communities in the UK could be rectified by facilitating heterogeneous theological positions. Moira Dustin and Anne Phillips' ([6], see also [7]) work on British policy formation underscores how, in a misguided attempt to be inclusive, when orthodox rather than liberal clerics are positioned as experts on religious practice in policy debates, too much power is granted to the more powerful members or gatekeepers in ways that overemphasize maleness. In *Multiculturalism Without Culture* ([5], p. 161), Phillips concludes that a better approach is to emphasize individuals and not groups to create a default multiplicity. In engaging Phillips' proposal I seek to reformulate Talal Asad's discussion of "how religion becomes public" ([8], p. 182) to ask *which* religion emerges predominantly, in this case which "Islam." I aim to show how, in practice, Phillips' suggestion is not effective in democratizing a variety of mainstream theological positions into public discourse. In practice, this approach is unwieldy and does not work well in contemporary soundbite-necessitating contexts.

In this paper, I propose three possible explanations as to why orthodox positions dominated the "Sharia Debate"—a lack of knowledge, competing voices, and poor public relations—and suggest that the debate was a benchmark in underscoring the importance of public relations for religiously conservative Muslim groups in Ontario. The Islamic Institute of Civil Justice's dominance made clear the importance of articulating arguments that are more palpable to a broader public. Thus, rather than assuming that Western governments should grant more voice to individuals to counter the power of orthodoxy as Phillips suggests, religious groups themselves must proactively develop public relations through websites and press releases to better translate their interests. Ideally this multi-voiced media-savvy engagement could reshape the so-called secular sphere to carve out space so that more religiously-motivated concerns could have a place in public debate, better reflecting a post-secular [9] and de-privatized public sphere [10].

Methodologically, I frame this critique with reference to fieldwork in 2008 and 2009 with pro- and anti-FBA members of advocacy groups in the Greater Toronto Area (GTA), where most of Canada's Muslims live, and examination of the 191-page government-mandated report and related press releases. I draw on statistical studies to cast the concerns of the so-called "everyday" Muslims I argue were excluded from the polarizing debate (on lived religion, see [11–15]). A 2008 Canadian Muslim Profile Survey suggests that 31% of self-defined Canadian Muslims attend mosque on a weekly basis3 , yet other data show that no matter their level of practice, more than 90% of Ontario Muslims seek to marry using a *nikah* or Islamic marriage contract.4 "Average" Muslims are thus not necessarily attending weekly congregational prayer but do engage with Sharia

does not adequately represent the diverse makeup of French Muslims (see [2], pp. 71–84; [3], pp. 24–25; [4], pp. 85–87). Seats on the CFCM are apportioned according to the physical square footage of individual mosques, a system that benefits groups with greater financial resources.

3 According to the Canadian Muslim Profile Survey conducted in 2008 by the Canadian Institute of Policy Studies, 37% of respondents went to the mosque more than twice a week, and 31% once a week. Some (15%) of respondents attended the mosque only for special programs, and 2% of respondents never went to a mosque [16].

4 Julie Macfarlane's recent qualitative research with Muslims on Islamic divorce in Southern Ontario and in three American cities (Dearborn, Los Angeles, and Omaha) concludes that "the number of Muslim North Americans who marry using a nikah is far higher than those who regularly attend prayers or even consider themselves to be observant." Ninety-eight percent of the marriages in her study were contracted using a nikah ([17], p. 11; [18]).

**167**

at their time of marriage (and of divorce, thus necessitating some engagement with an imam or religious leader to be granted a religious divorce; see [17]). Accessibility to and engagement with Islamically-informed family law therefore generally matters to this population. Studies in Australia and the UK map similar kinds of everyday engagements with Islamic law (see [19–21]).

#### **2. Context**

In late 2003, the Islamic Institute of Civil Justice (IICJ) held a press conference to announce they would begin offering arbitration services in private family disputes in accordance with Islamic law and the province of Ontario's 1991 Arbitration Act. A two-year international debate followed this announcement. The FBA debate sought to assess the suitability of religiously-based legally-binding private arbitration in matters of commercial and family law. Arbitration decisions that articulated religious language and reasoning became possible in Ontario following an amendment in 1991, motivated to alleviate backlog in the courts and to move toward more cost-effective privatization. Because a number of Western European countries fear similar requests of accommodation by non-Christian minorities, the debate unfolded with international attention. Public concern centred on the legitimacy of references to Islamic family law in binding decisions. This focus explains why "Sharia courts" erroneously became short-form for the controversy.5 As though Sharia were a uniform instrument, this popularly used phrase falsely raised the spectre of stoning women and capital punishment [22,23]. In addition, Julie Macfarlane's [17] research with Ontario imams shows that mediation, and not legally-binding arbitration, takes place primarily; and, most common are meetings in imams' offices or in family homes and not in courtroom settings. In other words, commonly-expressed fears were unfounded.

That a non-mainstream Islamically-conservative position dominated the debate is worth noting for, as I will show, a 191-page government commissioned report, "Dispute Resolution in Family Law: Protecting Choice, Promoting Inclusion" [24], effectively captured multiplicity among Muslim groups. To the credit of its appointed author, former attorney general Marion Boyd, akin to Phillips' proposal, the "Boyd Report" portrayed the sophisticated non-theological arguments advanced by some pro-FBA groups and concluded that this form of dispute resolution continue with some caveats. Yet, these positions did not translate into public discourse. Instead, one conservative religious group, the Islamic Institute of Civil Justice, promoted their own *Darul-Qada* ('Islamic Court of Justice') and monopolized the pro-side of the debate. My aim is not to question the outcome of the controversy—religiously-based family law arbitration was legally outlawed in Ontario with a 2006 amendment—but rather to ask how and why a falsely representative "pro-Sharia" position was embraced as normative in representations of the debate. Their position erroneously exaggerated the degree and depth of cultural disagreement.

At the same time, reliance on orthodoxic positions is understandable for a number of reasons. Firstly, audiences of the Ontario FBA debate (including many Muslims) likely held little knowledge of the parameters of the traditions of Islamic law, so that more extremist positions like the IICJ's went unquestioned. FBA was surprising to many Ontarians. Generally, the public was

5 This paper refers to both *sharia*, as Islamic law stipulated in the Qur'an and the Sunnah, and *fiqh*, as jurisprudence or the more practical application of these sometimes abstract notions.

not aware that the Arbitration Act could be used to settle family law and inheritance disputes, or that if an arbitration award were made under the Act, it could be enforced by Canadian courts, no matter the religious tradition. Until 2003, it had taken place without public scrutiny; when Islamic law was referenced, concern heightened. In this way, a lack of knowledge alongside irrational fear of Islam (or Islamophobia) were factors in how the IICJ and their message monopolized public debate. Prior to this period, faith-based family law arbitration had taken place in Ontario for 14 years with no public fanfare, largely among Orthodox Jews but also among some Christian groups as well as Shi'ite Ismailis ([24], p. 56; the Boyd Report notes the Ismailis' "sophisticated and organized" arbitration model [24], p. 57).

Secondly, the tremendous ethnic and legal diversity among the Ontario Muslim community made centralizing religious authority in the community a challenge. Therefore, when the IICJ became the de facto spokespeople for FBA it was difficult to draw together a counter-narrative. Paul Bramadat ([25], p. 13) describes how Canadian Muslims constitute the most ethnically diverse group in Canada and they are similarly theologically diverse. 6 Longer discussions on the malleability and construction of *fiqh* (Islamic jurisprudence) in minority populations did not have a necessary 'soundbite' quality to counter the IICJ. Even if, following the spirit of what Tariq Ramadan calls "the building of the Muslim personality in the West" ([22], p. 7; see also [31]), a number of imams in the GTA have worked together to contextualize Islamic law for a Canadian Muslim minority situation and develop a *fiqh* for minorities, positioning family law for all Muslims in Ontario at the moment of the debate was impossible.7 Compiling a '*fiqh* for minorities' is a long-term project that could not be amassed within a few weeks, particularly given the provincial Muslim communities' diversity.

Thirdly, the pro-Sharia side's public relations errors gave it visibility. Its more extremist views on apostasy were simplistic and were therefore more readily taken up by opponents and through media statements. Indeed, seeking to locate stable theological positions—and not the complexities within which most religio-cultural interpretation takes place—meant that media outlets and the final government response by the provincial Premier accentuated a more facile monolithic religiously-conservative position.

I contend that exploring the IICJ's dominance in light of Phillips' contribution is worthy of examination because the dispute devolved into debates that highlighted fears of patriarchal religiosity that did not appropriately engage with a number of substantive issues. A more robust, reflective and useful debate could have taken place. As Anna Korteweg and I have argued

6 The Muslim population in Canada in 2001 was 36.7% South Asian, 21.1% Arab, 14.0% West Asian, and 14.2% were part of other minority groups (not including the small percentage of Chinese, Black, Filipino, Latin American, Korean, and Japanese Muslims; [26]). PEW's 2010 estimations suggest there were just under 1 million Muslims in Canada or 2.8% of the entire population [27] The most recent reliable data predict that by 2017, the Canadian Muslim population will be approximately 1.6 times the 2001 population of 579,645 (see [28,29]) and that by 2030 the population will be approximately 2.7 million, or 6.6% of the Canadian population [30].

7 The Canadian Council of Imams (CCI) was established in 1990 and is constituted by more than 40 members. The CCI meets monthly to discuss relevant elements that affect Muslims in Canada (see [32,33]). Their website notes that it "has become the principle [sic] liaison with Federal, Ontario Provincial and Toronto Municipal Governments."

elsewhere [34], matters like unilateral *talaq* divorce8 and the equal rights of all women in private arbitration no matter their faiths were never publicly debated9 , in part because the more varied pro-faith-based arbitration (FBA) positions captured in the Boyd Report did not translate beyond the document into public discourse. Because the debate remained focused on murky fears of Islamic law, significant power issues in arbitration and patriarchal divorce proceedings were not formally debated and have remained unchanged.

Pro-FBA advocates were not aided by the IICJ's conservative head, former lawyer Syed Mumtaz Ali, whose initial public announcement spurred the debate. Ali had begun lobbying for these tribunals two decades earlier.10 The IICJ made a number of significant public relations gaffs through their publicly-accessible website and in interviews where Ali shared inaccurate claims. For example, Ali announced the opening of "sharia courts," a turn of phrase that gave a false sense of courtrooms where Muslims would be judged, when studies show that most Ontarian Muslims seek out counseling or assistance from imams, who take a mediative and not arbitral role ([17], p. 15, [37], p. 76). In addition to his invocation of "sharia courts," in seeking to inspire Muslims to use his services, Ali set out vitriolic theological claims that warned of apostasy: only "good Muslims" would use their services [39,40].11 Ali referenced Qur'anic passages that described "infidels," rhetoric that served to alienate the *Darul-Qada* from mainstream Muslims ([42], p. 247) and non-Muslims. In sum, references to "sharia courts" and "good Muslims" did not quell fears that groups like the *Darul-Qada* sought to create a parallel legal justice system, which would weaken the rights of Muslim women and the functioning of the liberal democratic state ([34], p. 12). The IICJ's condemnatory language in their press releases and on their website gave the impression of a newfound coercive power overstepping the bounds of the Canadian legal system. Ali's characterization of "Sharia Courts" suggested that arbitration decisions are not subject to judicial oversight, a point that was quickly propagated in the community and with the media. Ironically, there is no evidence that the IICJ ever carried out formal religious arbitration ([37], p. 68).

Opposition to the IICJ's announcement to open "Sharia courts" emerged quickly among local and national secular and Muslim organizations. Two anti-faith-based arbitration groups led by women perceived as Muslim12 became most prominent: the "International Campaign Against Shari'a Court in Canada" and the government-funded Canadian Council of Muslim Women were sophisticated in their press releases, websites, and social media mobilization. Other secular Muslim

8 There are typically three forms of marriage dissolution outlined in mainstream Sunni jurisprudence: *talaq*, *khul* and *faskh*. In the first case, traditional Islamic juristic traditions accord unilateral extra-judicial divorce rights solely to men, grant women limited alimony ranging from three months to one year, and typically favour men in child custody and inheritance rights. *Talaq* divorce—or unilateral divorce by the husband—is the most common form of divorce among Canadian Muslims (see [35], pp. 33–34; [36], pp. 20–23).

9 In addition, many Ontario-based imams who act as mediators are being stretched thin by the familial counseling often demanded of them and are ill-equipped to respond to domestic abuse [17,37].

10 Ali was called to the Ontario Bar in 1962 and was the first lawyer to take his legal oath on the Qur'an rather than on the Bible [38]. Syed Mumtaz Ali passed away in 2009.

11 Here Ali uses polemical language like that critiqued by Mahmood Mamdani [41].

12 Homa Arjomand of the International Campaign against Sharia Court in Canada calls herself an "atheist Muslim" [43]. Alia Hogben of the CCMW claims to be a practicing Muslim.

organizations like the Muslim Canadian Congress were also involved in critiquing FBA. 13 Altogether eighty-seven groups came together to oppose the IICJ's announcement ([45], p. 257). Only nine organizations espoused FBA publicly, several with qualified support, like that from the Jewish Beth Dein. These groups include the Canadian Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR–CAN)14, the Islamic Society of North America Canada (ISNA), the Canadian Islamic Council (CIC)15, the Federation of Muslim Women and the Coalition of Muslim Organizations of Ontario (COMO), which represents over 30 Muslim organizations ([48], p. 108). While fewer in number, analysis of media coverage throughout the debate shows how the pro-FBA stance was underrepresented ([49], p. 441).

In response to growing concerns about Islamic law exacerbated by comments like these ones, Marion Boyd, a former Ontario Attorney General, was appointed by the provincial Attorney General and the Minister Responsible for Women's Issues to review the Arbitration Act and its impact on vulnerable peoples in the province. During the course of the review Boyd met with close to 50 groups ([24], p. 5). Six months later in December 2004, Boyd submitted her report that outlined concerns expressed during the debate and made 46 recommendations. The report gave qualified support for FBA for all faiths. Boyd concluded that to only bar Muslims from religiously-based arbitration constituted clear discrimination ([24], p. 73).

Following Boyd's qualified recommendation of the status quo, a number of pro-Sharia representatives like Faisal Kutty [50], legal representative for the Coalition of Muslim Organizations of Ontario (COMO), assumed the debate was over and that citizens could continue to choose to legally arbitrate family matters with a religious leader. Having participated in the exercise of the Boyd commission, and having seen their views reflected in the Report, groups like COMO excused themselves from the public eye. Following Boyd's recommendations, as Katherine Bullock, ISNA representative noted, "the eventual decision in 2005, to ban FBA for all, did not cross our minds—we could not imagine that the government would take away an accommodation that was already present in the law" ([51], p. 258).

However, following the publication of the Review, public debate continued. Boyd's reasoning to maintain FBA in Ontario fell on deaf ears as subsequent international protests at Canadian embassies against "Sharia Courts" in September 2005 referenced the stoning of women and human rights atrocities. With mounting international pressure, on 11 September 2005 (a Sunday not typically reserved for government press releases), then-provincial Premier Dalton McGuinty announced: "There will be no Shariah law in Ontario. There will be no religious arbitration in Ontario. There will be one law for all Ontarians" [52], thus barring FBA for all religious groups.

13 Internationally, these groups received support from the Progressive Muslim Union of North America and the grand mufti of Marseilles, Soheib Bencheikh. Nationally, these groups' critiques of FBA were bolstered by prominent politicians like Quebec MPP Fatima Houda-Pepin and the Ontario Women's Liberal Caucus [44].

14 The Ottawa-based non-for-profit Council on American-Islamic Relations Canada (CAIR-CAN) was founded in 2002 and has been active in a number of lobbying campaigns, including those surrounding the Maher Arar and Omar Khadr cases ([46], p. 203).

15 The CIC is based in Saskatoon, SK and was formally incorporated in 1998. It has been in the active in the media on the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict, a Human Rights complaint against *Maclean's*, and the Canadian Anti-Terrorism Act of 2001, among others [47].

An amendment in February 2006 (the Family Statute Law Amendment Act) legally ended faith-based arbitration in Ontario. However, social scientific research by Julie Macfarlane and Christopher Cutting demonstrates that, because arbitration was never widely used (informal mediation was far more common), very little has changed. Religion can inform an arbitrator's rulings so long as the texts of final rulings use the language of Canadian law and make no reference to religious principles [17,50,53]. With this background of the debate in mind, I now turn briefly to three factors that influenced the IICJ's monopoly of the debate: a lack of knowledge about what was being requested, competing authorities, and poor public relations.

#### **3. Islamophobia and Ignorance**

Islamophobic elements are evident in how the debate unfolded and may partially explain its derailment into now familiar patriarchal critiques of Islamic beliefs and practices. In these public debates, Islam was often positioned homogeneously as a patriarchal religious tradition that condones the cutting off of hands and the stoning of women [54–56]. These media accounts and press releases were not neutral. A number of pro-FBA Muslim spokespeople observed that paternalism and Islamophobia informed those who conducted media interviews. For instance, part-time ISNA Canada spokesperson Katherine Bullock noted that "the level of hatred has been frequently astonishing" [57] and recounts having experienced Orientalizing portrayals of the tradition in her encounters with the media ([51], pp. 262, 269). The IICJ's inaccurate call for "Sharia courts" gained a great deal of attention and authority because of a lack of knowledge about the parameters of Islamic family law and the kinds of mediation that were commonly taking place. This lack of knowledge extends within Ontario Muslims' communities, as well. Some of the so-called average Muslims I interviewed in 2008 similarly felt they could not speak up to counter this characterization, as they were not legal specialists.

#### **4. Dispersed Authority**

Dispersed religious authority had a significant impact on the seemingly highly-conservative pro-FBA lobby. In the first place, theological diversity in part explains why it took longer for the Coalition of Muslim Organizations of Ontario (COMO) to respond as a united group. A shared sense of the parameters of Islamic jurisprudence and arbitration processes did not coalesce in the midst of the debate, so that Muslims and non-Muslims were unable to engage with its potential positive implications. Part of this lack of representation relates to the traditions of Sunni Islam and its non-centralized authority structure that does not support a hierarchical clerical class that acts as a representative body. Federal and provincial governments have not established religious authoritative representatives following Protestant models, like the French government has mandated with the French Council of the Muslim Faith.

This lack of a unified theological position became apparent in how pro-FBA groups disagreed about the utility of referencing the term 'Sharia'. On the one hand, pro-FBA groups like ISNA Canada and the Islamic Institute of Toronto (IIT) suggested that over-usage of the term precluded a measured and qualified discussion of how *fiqh*-based arbitration could be developed and regulated. They preferred the more specific and contextual term *fiqh* or what Marion Boyd, aware of

differences on the term, referred to more generally as 'Muslim principles.' On the other hand, the Canadian Islamic Congress (CIC) noted in a media communiqué that the term must be embraced, out of respect for its meaning and history:

Sharia is Arabic for Islamic Law and there is no need for Canadian Muslims to be apologetic. Those who oppose the use of the word Sharia, but say the tribunals will use 'Islamic principles' are contradicting themselves [. . .] We should not let those abusers rob us of a word that has a long and noble history [58].

This discord on language reflects a range of views. Despite having been organized for a few years, the COMO (the Coalition of Muslim Organizations of Ontario) formed their common unified response following the announcement to end FBA [24]. At that point it was too late to impact public opinion.

In the third place, this kind of public opinion campaign is not easy for groups often largely composed of volunteers. ISNA Canada representative Katherine Bullock described having had a number of work and familial responsibilities that made her often unavailable for the short turn-around time necessitated by the media ([51], p. 261). Her absence meant that at times more moderate pro-FBA voices were excluded.

These shortcomings in theological unity and public presence overshadowed the other Ontario-based pro-FBA Muslim groups' press releases' sophisticated arguments submitted for consideration by Marion Boyd. While I recognize the homogenizing and naturalizing forces in determining the "mainstream," I argue that these arguments sought to demonstrate how FBA could signal a Canadian multicultural ethic in light of the Charter of Rights and Freedoms; pointed to how FBA could save tax dollars in alleviating the overburdened public court system; claimed that structuring it more formally would allow for greater transparency; and argued that, counter to the main concern by anti-FBA groups, FBA offered better opportunities for the protection of women's rights in allowing for "indigenizing" opportunities. These kinds of arguments that move away from apostasy arguably would have had greater credibility and been more legible amidst the broader public narrative on the suitability of FBA in a supposedly secular country. Despite constant references in the Report to the country's secularity, Canada does not have a formal legal separation of religion and politics [59].

Firstly, in their press releases and submission to the Boyd Commission, the Islamic Society of North America Canada based their support for FBA primarily on liberal democratic grounds. They challenged the notion that judicial autonomy in the form of 'sharia-inspired tribunals' would lead to a fracturing of the secular state and stated that "a denial of this right to Sunni Muslims will be reckoned as discrimination and a singling out of a religious group in Ontario. This will be counter to Canada's Charter of Rights and Freedoms, which guarantees freedom of religion for all groups" [24]. The group drew on multicultural guarantees and political arguments regarding the possibilities for coexistence of religious law within a secular framework. CAIR-CAN framed its rationale similarly, stating that any form of Muslim dispute resolution would be "consistent with Canadian law and the Charter" ([60]; see also [61]; [24], p. 44). The Canadian Islamic Congress's (CIC) then-president went further to describe the end of FBA as a violation of the Charter.

Secondly, the head of the CIC appealed to practical considerations noting that such arbitration would "ease the backlog in the courts" and that "many judges prefer this" [62]. In other words, FBA saves taxpayers' money. This justification worked for former Premier Mike Harris whose then-conservative majority privatized a number of government programs as cost-saving measures in the 1990s.

Thirdly, a number of pro-FBA groups noted that mediation related to familial conflicts was already common, making arbitration a viable new option. Here pro-FBA advocates noted how many Ontarian Muslims feel that their interests and confidentiality are better protected by an imam, who also typically does not charge for his services, unlike a professional counselor, mediator or lawyer [17]. Following this argumentation, Riad Saloojee, a CAIR-CAN spokesperson, pointed out in a communiqué submitted to the Boyd Report that pragmatism should motivate policy makers to maintain the status quo related to FBA: "The reality is that on the ground, faith-based arbitration is already going on in an informal way," noted, so that "the best way is to regulate it and ensure it is transparent" [63]. Faisal Kutty, legal representative of COMO, moved from an argument of practicality to one of fairness and suggested that FBA for Ontarian Muslims reflected an opportunity to "indigenize" Islamic legal rulings so that they could be better regulated and supervised ([50], p.124). For Kutty, this process would allow judicial oversight into practices that would better reflect the beliefs of religious minorities while integrating them into the Canadian legal system. He referenced similar language to Saloojee, arguing that "formalizing the process will allow for greater transparency and accountability" [64], both of which would positively impact women.

On this note, contrary to the pejorative portrayal of pro-FBA groups like the CCMW whose public platform focused upon how Muslim family law perpetuates patriarchy ([24], p. 48; [65]), pro-FBA groups also reflected on Islam and gender politics, a point that did not translate well into the public debate. ISNA Canada's spokesperson, Katherine Bullock, proposed an equity model based upon gender complementarity to counter what she called the "Liberal-feminist version which says that if men and women are not treated in an identical manner, then women are being oppressed" [50]. Other pro-FBA advocates positioned Islam as pro-women and saw FBA as a way to convince culturally-patriarchal religiously-minded men of this fact. As cited in the Boyd Report, Mubin Shaikh of Toronto's Sunni Masjid El Noor16 noted:

when decision [sic] in favour of women are made against men who are ignorant of the rights of women afforded in Islam. The authority of the Tribunal will prevent a disputant from accusing it of ignoring their Islamic values—a claim frequently made against the secular system. Through this authority, the community will pressure the wrongdoer to conform to the norm and encourage him/her to cease their sinful behaviour ([24], p. 64).

Along these lines, in one of its public position papers, ISNA Canada argued that immigrant women would feel more "at home" with Muslim arbiters, who would also guarantee privacy and confidentiality in a way a "secular court" does not [24]. This concern about women's rights was *the* central issue for anti-FBA groups, a point that needed to be better addressed by groups who supported it. Despite nuanced written submissions for the Boyd commission by pro-FBA advocates

16 Formally since 1982 and informally prior to that, the Masjid El Noor has offered counselling, mediation and arbitration services carried out from a pastoral care point of view. Their mediation board consists of seven people, one of whom is an imam and the rest of whom are volunteers divided equally between men and women. The mosque provides translations in Gujurati and Urdu to those who need services in other languages ([24], p. 60).

of the potential advantages FBA afforded to women, symbolic representations trumped these reflections. In the wake of the debate, Faisal Kutty, legal counsel for COMO, conceded that from a public perception perspective, the group should have strategically situated Muslim women as the leaders and spokespersons [50,66]. Because Muslim women are not equally represented in the institutional structures of Ontario communities, such as in mosques, schools, and community centers, this inclusion would have greatly aided public perception. The 'pro-Sharia' campaign thus did not respond effectively to the oppressed Muslim woman trope that emerged so prominently; there was little confidence that Sharia-based tribunals would be any more responsive to women's interests.

A unified and authoritative message that effectively and, following John Dewey's theory of communication [67], aesthetically and effectively conveyed the socio-political benefits of FBA for non-Muslims or non-religiously practicing Ontarians—including a reduction in public court costs and a potentially more robust multiculturalism—did not occur. In part, enunciation of the role of women might have been better assured by stronger public relations. These articulations matter because when policy discourses privilege orthodox positions like the IICJ's, they tend to accept sweeping characterizations of women's social comportment and rights [68–72].

#### **5. Orthodoxy and Public Relations**

Religious conservatism does not lead to uniformity in theological positions. Acknowledging the power dynamics laden in the homogenizing category of the "mainstream," religious studies scholars are well aware of the diversity of belief and practice in religious systems, including a range among the most orthodox. Nancy Davis and Robert Robinson's ([73], p. 243) quantitative overview of conservatism among Protestants in the US demonstrates that the religiously orthodox exhibit little consensus of opinion on specific issues and, as individuals, hold inconsistent views. Rajeev Bhargava [74] warns of intra- and interreligious domination, where certain branches within the same religious tradition are privileged by members, the public and by scholars. Overuse of a narrow understanding of orthodoxy is therefore problematic because, as I have described, it is not representative of contradictory everyday experiences of religious beliefs and practices among mainstream publics.

Facilitating these positions assumes that everyday individuals will want to share their opinions. These 'average' individuals have a right to indifference or a lack of knowledge on the application and interpretation of religious law. For instance, one of my female interlocutors interviewed regarding her experience of the FBA debate explained her frustration with herself for not becoming more involved. 'Asma' explained, "I'm busy with my three young children. I think this is an important issue, but what can I do? And I don't know the Sharia. I can't go on talking about it when I don't know the hadith" [75]. Capturing Asma's position is central to unlocking the common concerns of Muslims in Ontario who were for FBA, but whose voices were absent from discussions. Asma's experience reflects how other individual pro-FBA voices existed, but were not captured by the public debate for a variety of reasons, including not being sensational enough for the media, who preferred a simplistic, reductive approach to the issues at hand.

In sum, with the exception of Phillips' [5] suggestion of emphasizing individuals in Western public policy matters rather than institutionalized groups, theory about *which* religion emerges through policy has not fully considered how orthodox positions take precedence [10]. Critiqued for how she characterizes Muslims primarily as "different, as not-wholly-Canadian, and perhaps as potential threats to 'real' Canadians" ([76], p. 350) and for too plainly pushing a multicultural ethos that masks inequalities [77], Marion Boyd's Report is nevertheless a good example of what Phillips describes. The Boyd Report successfully captured nuances related to arbitration and to Islamic law from a variety of Muslim perspectives. Even if the pro-FBA groups under examination engaged with the language, national culture and citizenship rituals necessary for full engagement in their consultation with Boyd ([1], p. 428), pro-FBA groups were unable to translate this into political action and public discourse. In part this disconnect was due to limited resources, to a media bias and to a lack of understanding in the community regarding the broader implications. Pro-FBA groups were not able to transmit their more sophisticated explanations in the mediatized debate that had too quickly latched to the IICJ. By way of conclusion, I suggest that policy engagement and media knowledge are keys to this end.

#### **6. Conclusions**

The Sharia Debate has become a benchmark for a number of Ontario Muslim groups who seek to better facilitate their positions in public debate. Public perception and relations are clearly important in shaping opinions and the course of debates like this one. The post-9/11 and 'Toronto 18' 17 environment casts suspicion on Islamic-informed engagement. In this climate, Ontario Muslim groups acknowledge the importance of promoting the positive engagements of their members. Macfarlane similarly notes that while post-9/11 Islamophobia negatively impacts the lives of women and men who are Muslims in Ontario, it also enforces a "commitment to greater openness and communication with non-Muslims" ([17], p. 7). Canadian Muslim organizations have, since the Sharia Debate, become more cognizant of the need for sophisticated public relations and political lobby. To make this point, I point to three examples in Ontario, the US and the UK that highlight differing ways these groups have shifted their strategies.

Firstly, a public policy and government course developed in the wake of the FBA debate at the Islamic Institute of Toronto specifically addressed the importance of knowing the system to engage government ([78], p. 362). This initiative reflects a newfound post-2005 proactive stance. The aim of these evening classes was focused on affording Muslim Canadians knowledge of the political system so that they would feel empowered about practical matters, like governmental structure and when advocacy could take place. In one May 2008 class, the Pakistani-born Canadian teacher outlined the hierarchies of municipal and provincial governments, the common ways in which policy and law are created, and when an informed citizen might best lobby his or her council member (town hall meetings are too late). This course clearly advocated religiously-informed lobby and was inspired by frustration felt by the instructor who worked in the provincial legislature. This kind of mobilization suggests that knowing the political system allows individuals to better engage with government so to translate their arguments, and exemplifies Jose Casanova's

17 The "Toronto 18" refers to eleven men and four youths arrested on 2 June 2006 (two others were arrested who were already serving prison terms, another was arrested two months later), accused of participating in plots to attack Parliament Hill among other locations. That these were the first arrests after the 9/11-related anti-terrorist legislation and that these threats to Canada were "homegrown" raised the spectre of radicalization.

[10] now-classic argument of the deprivatization of religious perspectives in political lobby. This engagement does not wait to be called upon as consultants like with the Boyd Report but rather seeks to frame potential issues.

Secondly, in 2011–2012, the New York State-based Islamic Circle of North America (ICNA), which has 30 chapters in the US, launched a \$3 million public awareness campaign to destigmatize the term "sharia" among the American public. Its timing suggested that it emerged in part in response to the IICJ's public relations disaster. Its campaign focused on recent Sharia debates in the United States where 13 states are considering legislation to forbid "Sharia," with aims to dispel "the myths surrounding Shariah Law" and to communicate "the truth to the American public." They outlined these efforts as defending religious freedom and warding against Islamophobia [79]*.* Using Christian-based references to appeal to non-Muslim Americans they noted:

There is no one thing called Shariah. A variety of Muslim communities exist, and each understands Shariah in its own way. No official document, such as the Ten Commandments, encapsulates Shariah.

ICNA does not elaborate, however, as to more specific sources of authority and how *fiqh* would be determined. Their campaign is primarily focused on de-stigmatizing Islamic law.

Thirdly, Marta Bolognani and Paul Statham [80] point to how British Muslim organizations have formed alliances to more efficiently and effectively brand themselves. Based on qualitative interviews with British Muslim organizations, they note that Muslim community representatives recognize how the media shape perceptions. They cite an imam who argues that "stories about Muslims [are] restricted to a negative focus and limited to only a few oft-repeated clichéd cultural issues, usually on wearing a burqa or niqab, or claims about the treatment of women" ([80], p. 238). Bolognani and Statham report that their participants found that sensationalism meant that unrepresentative, even if camera-ready, individuals were more often selected for interviews; one example given of someone who had interviewed a great deal but who has few actual followers was Anjem Choudary, akin to the IICJ's former president, Syed Mumtaz Ali. They also cite a representative from the Bradford Council for Mosques who suggests how engagement with the media is necessary, and that "faith leaders generally are not very good at interacting with the media. There are many positive stories and many positive examples of work which should be shared widely. The media offers us the opportunity to do this" ([80], p. 239). Daniel Nilsson DeHanas and Zacharias Pieri [81] similarly show the significance for the Tablighi Jamaat of hiring a PR company to manage their image and website in the midst of the building of a 'mega-mosque' construction adjacent to the main 2012 Olympic site near London. Nilsson DeHanas and Pieri note that the mobilization of their website (now defunct) allowed them to promote a more modest mosque. Beforehand, the Tablighi Jamaat's web and PR absence "perpetuated their image as an isolated and secretive group" ([81], p. 809). Again, these apparatuses matter.

Returning to the Canadian context, the importance of this sophistication and proactive media portrayal has been solidified. After the April 2013 Boston Bombings when the Royal Canadian Mounted Police arrested two men suspected of a railway terror plot in Toronto [82], a number of Muslim organizations like CAIR-CAN very clearly and intentionally dis-associated themselves from these actions. This collaboration of Muslim groups with police reflects years of negotiation and trust-building undertaken with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Toronto Imam Yusuf Badat made evident to CBC Radio that Muslim leaders are taking steps to help prevent radicalization. Badat concluded:

We tell them [members], 'be part of the broader mainstream community. Get involved. Be part of the civic engagement. Learn Islam from the right sources, rather than being radicalized through these internet videos' [82].

In a televised press conference in a media room (and not in a mosque) after the Via Rail plot was revealed, CAIR-CAN reminded Canadian Muslims to immediately notify police whenever they have knowledge of criminal activities. In denouncing the terror plot and reminding the media that the most important tip came from an imam, its executive director Ihsaan Gardee emphasized the everyday-ness of Muslims:

Like all Canadians, we want to feel safe and protected in our own country. We trust that our fellow citizens will see this for what it is: the alleged criminal and misguided actions of a few who do not reflect or represent Canadian Muslim communities [83].

Salam Elmenyawi, president of the Muslim Council of Montreal, similarly sought to show his community's separateness from the suspects and noted that no one seemed to know them from local mosques. He said the fact that the accused opted not to be represented by a lawyer demonstrates he is either "stupid or mentally ill," [84] clearly separating the suspect from mainstream Muslim groups. In this 2013 instance, in announcing the arrests, the RCMP thanked Muslim leaders for their help and publicly credited them with bringing a suspect to their attention [85].

As a flashpoint, the FBA debate in Ontario is thus illustrative of the need for PR by mainstream religious groups. Even if the 'average' Muslim would not attend, the public policy class that emerged at the IIT following the debate is an example of this emerging space. Individuals who have taken this class may be better equipped to steer conversations to what matters to them. Even if clear discrimination has been charted and Muslim Canadians are significantly under-employed in contrast with other religious groups 18 , the country's Muslim communities are conversant civic contributors.

The sophistication and significance of FBA for pro-Sharia groups was mired by problems in not specifically addressing the gender concerns of most critics and not translating their message to the "sound-bite" terms of the debate. However, events in the wake of the debate suggest an increasing recognition of the importance of public relations and opinion to better represent the positions of Muslims in Canada, the US and the UK. The challenge for these groups and individuals is to allow for a subtlety and depth of representation so that Muslimness does not necessarily become the sole defining feature of this political engagement should the interlocutors choose otherwise. This reductive understanding of identity, wherein religiously-determined behaviors and beliefs come to

18 Statistics Canada data 2001 show that despite a higher level of education than non-Muslims, Canadian Muslims' level of unemployment (14,4%) is more than twice as high as the national average [86]. A 2004 CAIR-CAN study suggested that 43% of their 467 respondents knew at least one other Muslim who had, since 2001, been questioned by the RCMP (Royal Canadian Mounted Police), CSIS (Canadian Security Intelligence Service) or local police. More than half (56%) had experienced at least one anti-Muslim incident since 9/11 [87].

solely encompass identities, parallels the over-reliance of the singular representation of the IICJ in the FBA debate in Ontario, Canada.

#### **Acknowledgements**

This paper has benefited from comments raised in a panel discussion at the 2012 American Anthropological Association meetings organized by James Bielo and Eric Hoenes del Pinal, as well as insights from Faisal Kutty and suggestions by anonymous reviews. I thank Katie Flood for her bibliographic assistance. Field research was conducted in the Greater Toronto area from January–August 2008 and July–August 2009 with support from a Fulbright Scholar award and with research funding from Memorial University of Newfoundland.

#### **Conflicts of Interest**

The author declares no conflict of interest.

#### **References**

SEARCH=0&GC=0&GK=0&VID=0&VNAMEE=&VNAMEF=&FL=0&RL=0&FREE=0 (accessed on September 6, 2013).

http://www.canadianislamiccongress.com/cic2010/2004/08/28/sharia-defines-who-we-are-saysislamic-congress-fears-of-potential-abuse-called-unfounded/ (accessed on 6 September 2013).

## **184 Learning to Be Muslim—Transnationally**

### **Louise Cainkar**

**Abstract:** This essay discusses the religious upbringing experiences and reflections upon them articulated by 53 Muslim American youth who were interviewed as part of a larger sociological study of Arab American teenagers living transnationally. On extended sojourns in their parents' homelands, these youth—most were born in the US although some migrated to the US at a young age—were taken "back home" to Palestine and Jordan by their parents so they could learn "their language, culture, and religion". They were asked about learning to be Muslim in the US and overseas in the context of a much larger set of questions about their transnational life experiences. The data provide insights into the various types of early religious learning experiences Muslims have access to in a US Christian-majority context. The essay then examines how these youth later experienced and interpreted being Muslim in a place where Muslims are a majority. The study found that while a majority of youth said they learned more about their faith, almost half (42%) said that it was the same as in the US, that they did not learn more, or that the experience contributed both positively and negatively to their religious understanding. Key to these differences was the character of their experiences with being Muslim in the US. A majority of girls and of youth who attended full-time Islamic schools and/or were part of a vibrant Muslim community in the US gave one of the latter responses. On the other hand, most of the boys who grew up isolated from other Muslims in the US reported learning more about Islam. They were especially pleased with the convenience of praying in mosques and with being able to pray in public without stares. The data show that living where one is part of the dominant religious culture does not necessarily make for a deeper experience of religion. What seems to matter more is the type of experience with being Muslim each youth brings into the situation, as it was these that informed their subjective interpretations of what it means to be Muslim.

Reprinted from *Religions*. Cite as: Cainkar, L. "Learning to Be Muslim—Transnationally." *Religions* 5 (2014): 594–622.

#### **1. Overview of Findings**

This study's data on religious upbringing in the US show that family, especially mothers, are the most important transmitters of Islamic religious beliefs and practices to young children, a finding consistent with studies of the transmission patterns within other religious groups in the United States. Parents often tapped the resources of Saturday or Sunday schools to reinforce family teachings, but these were not always available nearby. Youth who attended these schools (38% of sample) largely described them as not particularly helpful, mainly because of their reliance on memorization, focus on historical figures rather than contemporary matters, and because they felt that classes were taught by untrained teachers. The data also suggest that the intermittent nature of these programs in combination with their significant distance from students' homes failed to create community among young Muslims, where friendship and solidarity could be experienced and teachings could be reinforced. On the other hand, some 20% of the youth interviewed in this study attended full-time Islamic schools for at least some part of their childhood in the US and were overwhelmingly positive about such experiences, in significant measure precisely because they created such community. Eleven percent of the interviewees said they had had no Islamic religious education in the US.

This particular analysis of study data also sought to understand whether, and in what ways, youth who spent their early years in the US found living in a Muslim majority context helpful to their religious growth and understanding, and if there was any relationship between the types of religious education they had in the US and their interpretations of these experiences. For example, were youth who had only family-based religious education more likely to view living in a Muslim majority country as helpful to their religious understanding than youth who had multiple sources of education, or did these resources not matter? Findings show that a majority of youth (58%) said that living in a Muslim majority place improved their religious growth and understanding. However, a substantial minority (42%) said that it did not help, that is was the same, or that it both helped and hindered. Youth who said they learned about Islam and being Muslim from their family alone in the US were the most likely to say that the experience of living "back home" was beneficial to their religious learning, while those who had attended full-time Islamic schools in the US were more likely than other youth to say that they did not learn more about their religion in a Muslim majority context, that it was the same, or that it was unhelpful. Youth who attended weekend Islamic classes answered in both ways, suggesting that something other than a linear process of religious learning is at work, that other variables come into play to influence their experiences and interpretations. Religious learning outcomes were clearly gendered, as girls were much more likely than boys (71% *versus* 44%), independent of religious education in the US, to say that the experience was not helpful, the same, or that it had elements that helped and elements that did not. Indeed, girls and boys spoke about and experienced religion in very different ways "back home". When girls spoke about expressions of their religious faith, they referred mainly to ways of dressing and behaving around others, but when boys spoke about the same subject they talked mainly about praying.

This essay lays out in an organized and descriptive fashion the youth's recollections of their early religious learning experiences in the US as well as their commentary on their overseas experiences of religion, especially whether and how such experiences contributed to their religious understanding and growth. The data clearly show that youth interpret "indigenous expressions" of religion [1] in multiple ways and that these interpretations are informed by their previous US experiences. Their observations and experiences of presumed "religious authenticity" do not necessarily produce the outcomes expected by their parents, nor those of religious leaders and scholars who believe that immersion in a Muslim majority climate is beneficial to the religious formation of young Muslims growing up in places where they are a minority. What seems to matter more is the quality of that experience, and that is a subjective interpretation informed by the prior experiences each youth brought into the situation.

#### **2. The Importance of Family, Congregation, and Society in Religious Upbringing**

Sociological studies of religious upbringing1 in the United States have tended to focus their analyses on two levels: the family and religious congregations. Although most US studies have been of Christians and secondarily of Jews, the recent upsurge in immigration to the US has provoked research on a range of other religious groups. Studies of the roles of family and community institutions in religious upbringing consistently find that the most significant actors in the religious education of children are the family, especially the mother, followed by religious institutions and their attendant congregations. Parents transmit religious beliefs and values and model religious practices within the home [1–3]. When parents are members of religious congregations, they convey their congregations' perspectives and beliefs on matters such as piety, faithful practice, authenticity, and religious authority. It is the parents who funnel their children into religious schools and institutions, their worship services, religious education classes, and affiliated social groups—the places where children learn "what it is that my religious tradition teaches" [4]. Speaking to the importance of religious congregations for conveying beliefs, Edgell (speaking mainly about Christians) notes:

People get religious ideas through a variety of sources, and people pursue a variety of paths to express their religion. But when it comes to asking questions about what it is that I believe or we believe as a religious community, congregations are probably the place for many, many people [4].

The growing body of sociological research on religion among immigrants and their children in the US tends to be focused on religious congregations (institutions and their communities). This literature finds that religious congregations play additional formative roles to those mentioned above: they aid in immigrant adjustment to the new place of residence and in the formation of second-generation identity and a sense of belonging [5–7]. The few studies that have addressed religious practices in the home confirmed that these are important to the religious upbringing of the children of immigrants [1,6,8]. Park and Ecklund, who studied second-generation Asian Americans of five different religious faiths, found a significant role for a more broadly defined extended family, in which mothers had the central influence, across all of the groups studied. The family's influence overlapped with the congregation as "parents provided the means by which children receive religious training in the congregation and provide models of participation and leadership for children" ([1], p. 98). They also found that "home-based religious practices" (reading the Qur'an or the Bible to children, reciting family prayers, receiving moral instruction) were equally important for all of these groups, even though they had assumed they would be more important for religious groups with fewer institutional and organizational resources. Additionally, they found that

1 Religious upbringing is a more broadly encompassing term than "the religious education of children"; it draws directly from the Arabic word *tarbiyya*, which connotes both formal education and ways of being and acting. Amer, one of the youth interviewed, described *tarbiyya* as "learning how to be a good human being".

"international family visits" were especially important to the religious socialization and understanding of Hindu youth: "visits to relatives in distant countries linked children and young adults to indigenous expressions of religion" ([1], p. 107). Recent studies [9,10] have examined the impacts of transnational journeys embarked upon by American Muslim adults in order to develop deeper religious understanding. More than seeking to experience "indigenous expressions" of religion, these adults intentionally sought out specific religious teachers, who were often critical of local practices and indigenous expressions. In contrast to these adult seekers, the youth discussed here mainly interacted with Islam as locally practiced, taught in schools, and understood within the family, but across two very different places. In the US, these sources not only taught them what it means to be Muslim, they informed their expectations of what being Muslim would be like in a Muslim majority society, a perspective they carried with them overseas that imposed upon their interpretations of local religious teachings and behavior. In this way they were different from their parents and from local youth, often questioning matters that others may have taken for granted. Their transnational lens (see, e.g., [11]), informed by but not bound to Islam as practiced in the US or in their parents' homelands, was a resource they consulted when considering what they were being taught about Islam and how they would practice their religion, or if they would practice it at all. This unique transnational positionality adds a layer of complexity to what might actually be occurring during international family visits, such as those cited by Park and Ecklund. Finally, most studies of religious groups in the US, whether of new groups or of Christians and Jews, treat the Christian-majority social context of the United States as normative. Few have examined the specific ways that dominant social structures and cultures infused by a religious normativity, where certain religious beliefs, values, and calendars are taken for granted, affect the daily lives and sense of belonging of members of minority religious traditions (see, e.g., [5,12,13]). The data from this study speak to these impacts as described by youth, whose insights on how these matter are keener once observed through a comparative lens.

#### **3. Methods**

This analysis is based on interviews conducted by the author in 2011 with 53 Arab American Muslim youth whose parents had taken them "back home" to Palestine or Jordan to learn their language, religion, and culture (the reason stated by nearly every youth interviewed), including twenty five females and twenty eight males. While they had moved from the US at various ages, depending on their placement among siblings and other family-related variables, and some had been born overseas, all were juniors or seniors in high school in Palestine or Jordan when interviewed for this study. The youth saw these overseas experiences as temporary sojourns; the overwhelming majority said they intended to return to the US as adults. Most of the interviews were conducted at high schools in the Jerusalem-Ramallah area (Palestine) and in greater Amman (Jordan), mainly because high schools are the best places to find such youth and these geographic locations are where schools catering to English language speakers have been established. School principals assisted me in locating students eligible for the study [raised in the US, high school junior or senior], sent study information and consent forms home to parents, and then excused participating students from classes so I could interview them. The interviews selected for this analysis were part of a larger study of transnational Arab American teenagers that also includes

youth from Yemen as well as Christians. The findings reported here are thus not from an in depth study focused on religion, but one that examined transnational experiences in which religious learning is one aspect.

Youth in the study grew up in a wide range of places in the US; many were not raised in large cities or in places where other Muslims lived nearby. Youth living in Palestine and Jordan reported growing up in thirty-four different US cities and towns; less than half said there was an Arab or Muslim community in the place that they lived. The strength of this sampling method is that it does not have the congregational bias so often found in studies of members of religious groups, nor the focus on a concentrated ethnic community. We are able to learn about the experiences of Muslims living on the edge, whose daily lives are performed in a context where they are often swimming alone. One of its drawbacks is that it underplays what it's like to be Muslim in the US when surrounded by a Muslim community with robust Muslim institutions. Through examining these youths' recollections of learning to be Muslim and their narratives of current experiences we gain insights into what they consider to be the key agents and methods of their early religious socialization in the US as well as into how they interpret the "indigenous expressions of religion" they are engaged with "back home". As with all data that taps into memories, their recollections of earlier experiences should be understood as such. That is, when youth describe how and what they learned about Islam as children in the Unites States, they are recounting what they remember as meaningful, rather than expressing verifiable factual details.

#### **4. Learning to be Muslim in the US**

Interviewees described five main patterns of religious learning during their childhoods in the United States, including one described by 11% as none at all (see Table 1). The most common method cited (32%) was through their parents and extended family (sometimes including nonrelated adults), followed by 19% each citing Saturday or Sunday school, full-time Islamic school, or Saturday or Sunday school and family. The meaningful difference between the number of males and females offering the latter response suggests that something is going on: perhaps multiple-methods (weekend school and family) were utilized more frequently with females than males, or perhaps males were more likely to forefront formal instruction and de-emphasize (and thus render invisible) instruction that occurred in the informal sphere of the home. Youth who attended full-time Islamic schools in the U.S., who were more likely to be male than female, considered these schools as their primary source of religious education and usually did not mention family. That is, while half of the youth specifically identified family as a source of religious education, we should not conclude that family was uninvolved in the religious education of other half but rather that they imputed greater importance to formal, institutional educational venues, even if they did not find them useful.

Place matters with regard to the resources parents have access to for their children's religious education. Despite significant growth in number and size of Muslim institutions in the US [13], not every U.S. city has a full-time Islamic school, and many Muslim families live at significant distances from mosques where they can worship or institutions offering weekend classes2 . Many

2 Not sure why this is here. Appears again on page 6. According to Bagby's ([14], p. 4) study of mosques in the US, about 80% of mosques are in large cities and their suburbs. "The number of mosques and mosque participants

youth interviewed in this study attended a mosque service only on religious holidays, citing distance as the main barrier to more frequent attendance. The locations of youth who attended full-time Islamic schools attest to these limitations as they grew up in the large cities of Chicago, Milwaukee, Detroit, Atlanta, Boston, Brooklyn, and Miami. At the same time, there were plenty of youth from these same cities who did not attend full-time Islamic schools, highlighting matters of proximity, cost, and parental preference.

**Table 1.** Cited Responses to: "How did you know you were a Muslim? How did you learn about your faith when you were younger?"

#### *4.1. Learning from Family*

Youth who said they learned how to practice their Islamic faith from family members spoke of their parents', especially their mothers', endeavors to read Qur'an to them, teach them how to speak Arabic, pray, and fast during Ramadan. Families were most effective, however, according to the interview accounts, at transmitting moral lessons on how to distinguish between good and bad as a Muslim and in conveying their interpretations of the behavioral boundaries of the religion. These elements of the faith, which we might call a Muslim ethos and its daily life application, were repeatedly referred to by youth as either the "rules" or the "basics," and were often framed in comparison to what "Americans" do. Indeed, learning "the rules" and how to fast were mentioned more often than any other aspect of religious education within the family and for many youth the "rules" were their main take-away and had the most memorable impact. Listening to these teens describe the pedagogical process, one can sense the challenge parents faced raising their children as Muslims in the US and appreciate why they thought taking them "back home" would be beneficial to their Muslim upbringing.

When asked how she learned about her religion, Sawsan replied: "Our parents, my mom mostly. She was always like 'You are living in America, but you are a Muslim. You're living in America, but you have to follow my rules. And Islamic *rules*.' And she always kept the Islamic boundary around us." The notion of boundaries carried the message that good and bad for Muslims were different from good and bad for "Americans." Indeed, Mohammed said it was better for a Muslim to be raised in Palestine than in the US because if a Muslim stays in the US "maybe he's going to do

continue to show significant growth. The vast majority of mosques are located in metropolitan areas but the percentage of mosques in urban areas is decreasing and the percentage of mosques in suburban areas is increasing."

things wrong, not listen to his parents." When asked what kind of wrong things, he replied, "Like drink beer. Go out with girls. Like other things, you know what I mean…" And then he clarified, "I'm not talking about the Americans. I'm just saying for like us." Mohammed felt that his experience in Palestine would help him teach his own kids "what's right from wrong for a Muslim".

Ziad, who learned about religion from his parents and also attended weekend school, described the boundary as a "red line" for Muslims:

Um my parents weren't so strict as uh being, in a religious way, but they also kept like a red line. You know like don't cross this line because that's against our, against Islam. So I would stay behind that line. [Give me some examples of the lines.] Red lines? Like um like we would watch TV, regular, but we shouldn't like you know watch things that has a lot of nudity. Also no kissing, no touching, you know, those kind of stuff. [Anything else?] No, not really. [Did they have books for you to learn from?] Well yeah they had the Qur'an for us in the house, but I didn't know how to read Arabic, so that wasn't a lot of help.

Diala, who spoke of receiving religious guidance from her mother, grandmother, and Muslim family friends, felt that she did not learn as much as she would have liked, but she knew the "basics":

I mean my mom was mainly the person to teach us about religion... So yeah, I mean, although we didn't get exposed to as much Arabic and religion as I would have liked at home, you know, we still knew *the basics*. You know, we don't have boyfriends and, but they made me understand why, and although they were never really um strict about what I wore, I don't know, naturally I just, I didn't feel comfortable wearing shorts anymore.

Still, Diala distinguishes between knowing religious practices and understanding why Muslims engage in these practices. She did not learn the "why" until she moved to Palestine.

But to be honest with you, when coming here, to Palestine, I-we did-technically we did not know that much about religion. You know? I mean, yeah, we knew Muslims prayed and fast, and we did fast, and, you know, you're supposed to wear the hijab. I never understood why though until I came here, until I got older. So, I mean, I wish my mom had—

Miriam's account describes her parent's efforts to convey the "traits" of a Muslim, which required developing an understanding of good and bad from a Muslim perspective. She considered these efforts more successful than their attempts to teach Qur'an, which were no doubt difficult because the Qur'an is written and taught in the Arabic language.

We would, say it was night, we have nothing to do, so my dad would just gather us all, and he'd just like read a hadith [sayings of the Prophet] out of the hadith book, and explain it, like, the traits of a Muslim where you can't lie, basically, you have to help each other…the whole idea of like you're either a good person or you're a bad person… My mom would try and get us to write the Qur'an, and try to translate it in our own way and what it means and stuff like that, on like it was Friday mornings. No sorry, it was Saturday mornings where we used to do that. But that also didn't last.

Youth who learned how to be a Muslim from their parents and extended family alone tended to be from places in which they had limited exposure to and interaction with other Muslims. Their neighbors were not Muslim, few if any other children at school were Muslim, and they reported visiting a mosque only occasionally, usually during Ramadan and the Eids [feasts], due to distances. I should note however, that none of the youth interviewed for the study cited attending services at a mosque as part of their religious learning experience. This is probably because learning is not catalyzed in situations where one feels somewhat out of place: their Arabic language skills were limited, they did not know the prayer ritual well, and many were not regular members of the congregation.

#### *4.2. Weekend Classes*

Youth who attended Saturday or Sunday school, including those who specifically also mentioned their parents as teachers and those who did not, had the benefit of growing up where this resource was available, although for many the schools were located at a significant distance from their homes. They described weekend schools as places where they were taught how to pray, memorize Qur'an, speak and read Arabic, and learn the rules. Some also spoke of learning about the prophets. The educational content of the weekend schools was thus similar to that of the home with the addition of language learning, memorizing Qur'an, and Islamic history. Adnan put it this way: "My parents they taught me most of the things like how to pray and things like that and Sunday school I learned more about prophets and stuff like that…"

Nearly unanimously, youth recounted the weekend school experience as not beneficial to learning to be Muslim, whether they had educational back up in the home or not. Hasheema said, "I went to a Saturday school, basically, growing up, until I got big and then I just stopped going because we didn't really learn much." Reflecting on what he had gained from attending weekend school during the summers, Samer reported, "When I got here I did not know that much." Similarly, Aisha, who attended Sunday school for Arabic language and religion, simply recounted, "it was difficult to learn about them, but I know there was more to see over here." Many complained about the memorization required, which they viewed as unhelpful to learning. Many also described their teachers as lacking qualifications to teach religion. As Yara put it, "teachers are just like volunteers." Similar to those who learned to be Muslims from family alone, learning the "rules" or "the basics" was what youth who attended weekend classes recalled most. These youth described going to a mosque very occasionally, more often during Ramadan and the Eids, and, as noted above, did not describe these visits as learning experiences. Students commonly lived at significant distances from each another and the weekend courses were episodic, so there was little opportunity for these young Muslims to develop community with each other. Consequently, with few Muslims in their neighborhood and social life mainly revolving around family, there was limited external reinforcement, support, or reward for being Muslim.

#### *4.3. Full-Time Islamic Schools*

Youth who attended full-time Islamic schools described learning how to pray, fast, speak Arabic, and memorize Qur'an. Notably, they did not to refer to their religious education as learning the rules, the basics, or the boundaries, probably because it offered so much more. For example, Etedal said she "knew everything" before moving to Palestine because she went to an Islamic school, unlike her brother, who only knew the basics. She does note, however, that in Palestine she learned about the everyday practice of being Muslim, the repertoire of daily life values and behaviors that compliment worship and rituals.

Well because I went to a private school I already knew all this stuff, so I didn't really learn any—much here. No, I already knew everything before I came. And now I know how to act, I know like the right way to act, to behave, treat your family and friends and everything like that. I knew that but, like, my younger brothers didn't know that, they like, they knew the basics and everything, but they didn't know much.

It is likely that prior to living in Palestine Etedal knew this repertoire, yet in Palestine its performance is more spaciay comprehensive as the expectations of behaving with propriety exist everywhere and are reinforced through the observation of others, including strangers. Etedal says: "I became more mature, and I learned, you know, the way you're supposed to behave here, and act and everything. You know, that everything, like, everybody's watching you here basically. And that was basically it."

Most of the youth who attended full-time Islamic schools made a point about how great it was to be part of a community of young Muslims. Lina said fondly, "I felt like I was surrounded by religion everywhere" as prayer rituals were woven throughout the school day. Nasreen recalls:

I love how they would, uh, you know in Islam we have like our five prayers, five daily prayers. They would have like during the school time. Uh, we have the mid-day prayer. We have to pray it.

We can assume that these positive feelings about Islamic schools speak to their contribution to happy childhood experiences in the US but also to something that is missing overseas, something they would not miss were it not for their transnational lives. Some youth said they missed the sense of community that was created at the school and carried over to the nearby mosque. In the Muslim majority world, mosques are mainly places where men go to pray and listen to sermons, while in the US most mosques house congregations composed of families. For example, Saif said:

Here I don't have that great of a connection with the mosque. For example in America the mosque was for me was a community, people would be going, talking, here the mosque is just, it's a mosque, it's a place where you pray and then you leave.

Youth who attended full-time Islamic schools also talked about having classmates who were of different nationalities. Khalil had great memories of his Islamic school, where his classmates were from India, Pakistan, Afghanistan, and other Arab countries. Although he did not see them much outside of school, he said they always looked forward to collective activities like fundraisers. The racially and ethnically diverse context of full-time Islamic schools in the US spawned their awareness of a religious faith, an Islam, that was not tied to a single culture, as it was with their immigrant parents.

In Islam for example it's a religion that's based on unity of people no matter the race. Before anything, we're Muslims. So we used to interact a lot. We wouldn't feel that there was much of a difference.

Boys and girls who attended full-time Islamic schools (as well as girls more generally) were the ones most likely to say that they did not learn much more about their faith while living overseas, and many of them were disappointed with their experience of religion in a Muslim majority society. The benefits they were told of living in such a society for their religious growth eluded them, and this was not simply because they felt they had already learned enough about their religion. Having been educated in a multi-ethnic community of Muslims where presumably the Islamic pedagogy was cleansed of cultural variations, they found that Islam as practiced "back home" was too culturally bound.

#### **5. Learning Religion "Back Home" in Palestine and Jordan**

During the course of interviews, youth were asked how living in Palestine or Jordan, both Muslim-majority contexts, affected their religious knowledge, growth, and personal experiences as Muslims. They were specifically asked: "Has being here helped you in your understanding of Islam?"  responses to which were probed for details. The following discussion is based on responses to the first question, with responses to the second question providing further insights. We expect that being Muslim in a Christian-majority context is quite different from being Muslim in a Muslim-majority context. In one case your religious rituals, calendars, diet, and modes of dress are at odds with the majority culture while in the other case they are normative. Theoretically at least, the same distinction should apply to dominant social values and norms of appropriate behavior, although being understood as humanly rather than divinely constructed these are more subject to variations associated with class and place and to change over time. Furthermore, technologies of globalization are making obvious inroads into local cultures, informing the musical and material tastes of youth. Nonetheless, the fact that these youth were taught while growing up that Muslims have different boundaries than "Americans" and that knowing how to conduct life within such boundaries turned out to prepare one well for social life in Palestine and Jordan indicates that these cultures are infused with a local variant of Islamic norms and values. However, as we will see below, the unique transnational lens of these youth produced varying interpretations of whether being Muslim in such a context was all together better. Some saw the dominant culture as productive of a mechanical conformity, different from the deeply considered actions driven by faith they were taught, and found that disconcerting. Thus, while one might assume that living in a Muslim majority context enhances religious learning in ways that cannot be achieved in a Muslim minority context, which is certainly something parents believed to be the case when they took their families overseas, the data show that these teenagers do not necessarily see it the same way. While some, especially boys, were thrilled by their freedom to be Muslim and especially their ability to pray wherever they wanted, others, especially girls but also many boys, were disappointed when the moral geography of Palestine and Jordan was not what they expected. They were surprised to discover that many Muslims did not practice their faith dutifully by praying five times a day, or by praying at all. They were also disheartened by what they saw as a lack of behavioral and moral consistency when persons who publicly performed acts of faith [praying, wearing hijab] acted in other settings in ways they considered un-Islamic. These observations, because they defied their expectations, are products of their US-based experiences that taught them to see Muslims in very fixed and sometimes very ideal ways, whether from a mainstream American culture that represents Muslims in religiously essentialized, non-complex ways, or from their religion teachers at home and in school who often contrasted how others behave to how "we" Muslims behave. What they

found instead were human beings, with all the variations and vulnerabilities that implies, a social fact that locally-raised youth likely took for granted.

When responses to these questions are examined by the type of religious education youth had received in the US before going to Jordan or Palestine, the data show that those who learned religion from their family members alone and those who reported no prior religious education gained the most from living "back home." This outcome is not surprising given that their starting position was one of limited information. On the other hand, youth who attended full-time Islamic schools at some point during their childhood in the US were the least likely to say they experienced gains in knowledge and understanding. Youth who attended Islamic weekend schools were split: some said they learned more while others said that they did not, that there were positive and negatives, or that it was the same. Girls who attended weekend schools were more likely than boys who did so to offer a nuanced analysis (both positive and negative) or to say it was the same. The opinions and insights expressed below are based on the observations of youth informed by their unique position as transnational learners of Islam. Rather than treating their views as the perspectives of adolescents—persons at a developmental stage of growth—I see them as having a certain type of integrity that is less obfuscated by the demands of conformity imposed on geographically situated youth or adults. In my view, based on much research, their in-betweeness or liminality makes of them keen observers. The answers and explanations these youth gave in response to questions about learning religion and being Muslim provide key insights into the complex ways that religion, gender, and society intersect in two geographic locations. After a brief exploration of gendered differences, the data are organized according to the three levels of social organization they discussed when describing their religious learning experiences—schools, community, and society.

#### *5.1. Gendered Differences*

A majority (31, or 58%) of the 53 youth interviewed said that their knowledge and understanding of Islam increased while living in Palestine or Jordan. On the other hand, 42% (22) said either that it did not contribute positively to their religious understanding, that it contributed in both positive and negative ways, or that it made no difference. Boys were far more likely than girls to say that their knowledge and understanding of Islam increased (71% *versus* 44%). Reasons for this distinctly gendered difference would benefit from ethnographic study, but study data and prior research by the author suggest three explanatory variables: gendered patterns of upbringing, role of mosques, and cultural perspectives on Muslim men. With regard to upbringing, Muslim parents in the US place more emphasis on teaching girls the "rules" than boys and expect more conformity to them from girls than from boys. Girls are therefore better prepared for the Islamic flavor of daily life in the social environment "back home", while boys have a sharper learning curve.

Mohammed's rendering of how he learned Islam in the US highlights this focus on girls:

I remember how my mom was in America and we were in America, my mom sat with my sisters and she was telling them, she was teaching them what a Muslim can do and what a Muslim can't do and they listened. They know that when they go to school, they can't do nothing wrong. They know that they can't eat beer—or drink beer or eat pork or anything cause in our *din*—in our religion—they can't do that.

While a gendered difference in expectations also exists in Palestine and Jordan, boys there are generally held to a higher standard of behavior than in the US, by extended family, community, and the society at large. The boundaries or red lines that were mainly enforced on females in the US also encompass males in Palestine and Jordan, although breaches by males are tolerated to a much higher degree than those by females. Thus, Mohammed said, "Maybe I would not have listened to my mom in the States cause I would have looked at others doing everything wrong and copied them." In Palestine he developed a stronger personal sense of right and wrong and he appeared to appreciate it. He concluded that Palestine is "the right place to live…a good society." In Palestine "there are people to tell me what—like my relatives and cousins they tell me what's right from wrong. In America, maybe there's nobody except my mom and dad. Maybe I would have not listened to them".

A second reason that might explain why boys overwhelmingly said they learned more about their religion in Palestine and Jordan than girls is related to mosques, which are much more conveniently located than in the US and are generally male-only places. Boys are not only welcomed in the many neighborhood mosques in Palestine and Jordan, they are by their own accounts highly encouraged to pray in them. This interaction of proximity and gendered space means that boys are far more likely than girls to be placed in situations where knowing how to perform prayer rituals and recite Qur'an matter, circumstances where they would need to learn more than they knew coming in. Largely excluded from mosques, girls do not face this type of religious ritual performance challenge. Their challenges are much more likely to come with regard to matters of public behavior, dress, and manners, which, as noted above, are behaviors for which they tended to have received training in the US. Finally, one cannot help but think that freedom to be a Muslim male, without the associated negative stereotypes found in the US, and freedom to pray publicly without invoking stares or slander, contribute to a subjectivity that boys would feel good about. In multiple gendered ways, being Muslim in Palestine and Jordan is very different from being Muslim in the US.

#### *5.2. Learning Islam in High School: Palestine and Jordan*

Youth interviewed for this study were juniors and seniors attending high schools in Palestine and Jordan where the Islamic religion is taught as a class [*din*]. Religion courses were usually mandatory, except that some private schools exempt English language dominant speakers from religion courses if they are taught only in Arabic. The majority of youth attended private schools that teach in the English language (even if they were raised in Brazil or Puerto Rico), although some offered both an English and Arabic track of instruction, because their Arabic was not proficient enough for public schools or private Arabic language schools. Some, however, attended local public schools or private schools with Arabic language instruction because either schools with English language instruction were far away from their homes or because their parents choose to enroll them in Arabic speaking schools, despite the fact that their Arabic was not at the high school level [most youth said they were at the 6th grade level]. Christians were also interviewed in this study, although they were a proportionately smaller group. The schools they attended offered *din*  courses in both Christianity and Islam.

Only a handful of youth said that religion courses at school played a significant role in furthering their knowledge about Islam and those who did so tended to have had little formal religious instruction at any prior time in their lives. For example, high school religion classes in Jordan were Samira's first formal religious learning opportunity. She grew up in Texas and learned how to pray and fast from her parents. The closest mosque was in Fort Worth, an hour and a half drive away, so they went there only on Muslim holidays.

It was my first time actually learning about my religion because they gave religion classes. It was part of the curriculum; it wasn't anything extra. So I learned a lot from that, I learned how to read and write Arabic, so I was actually able to read the Qur'an in Arabic. Um the hijab, I just recently started wearing it. I've only been wearing it for two years now. I don't know as much as I should know, but you know, I'm still learning. But here it helped a lot. I wouldn't have learned that much over there as I have here. [So, you learned it mostly in school?] Yes.

A few others mentioned religion classes at school as a source of learning Islam, but they coupled it with a string of influences, such as extended family, community, and mosques (boys only), suggesting that it was not a strong contributor to religious learning on its own.

Nayef from Amman grew up in New Jersey and said he did not know much about Islam before moving to Jordan. While he spoke about his religion class (in a relatively liberal school) in positive ways, it was only after he mentioned his parents and mosques, and then being prompted:

I didn't know anything before, like, about Islam, what's haram and what's halal. But now I do. [Where are you learning?] My parents, and two mosques, like... I'm more familiar with Islam, and I can read Qur'an really good now so, it's better. [And you study it in school too, right?] Yeah, only in religion class. They give us the sura, like, and they translate it to English so you can understand it, but you have to memorize the Arabic too. [Do you talk about it?] Yeah we do talk about, like class discussions a lot…. here we're free, like we—'cause we have some, we have two atheists in the school. Yeah, so like, we're free to talk about it, like, 'cause we had a debate, Darwin theory against creationists, and, so she discussed with us evolutionists and how it's wrong and stuff. Yeah.

Similarly, Mohammed, who was quoted earlier as feeling vulnerable to social risks in the US, credited his family, the mosque, and religion classes. In Palestine he is "Memorizing the Qur'an more. Learning about *din*. Going to the mosque a lot, almost like every day. And learning *din* in our school".

Muna grew up in Chicago, where she said she learned the "basics": how to pray, fast, and wear hijab. She was now living in Turmos Ayya (Palestine), attending a local, Arabic language public school. She credits school and her family with helping her understand the reasons she should pray, fast, and dress in certain ways. Indeed, understanding *why* Muslims practice their faith as they do was important to many youth, mostly girls, who wanted to know the meaning behind what appeared to be routinized behavior.

[So has being here helped you understand religion better?] Yes, it did. Over there they told me the basics, the simple basics. I learned at home how to pray, how to fast in Ramadan, how to wear the scarf. But I don't know why, why to wear jelbab, mandeel, I mean hijab, when the right time comes; I never knew why. Why I should pray, how I should fast, *etc.* Here they told me why, and how a girl should behave in Islam. [So, you learned that in school?] Yes, here and at home.

Dalal from Ramallah grew up in New Jersey and was one of the very few who said they enjoyed religion classes. She said she always thought of herself as a "Muslim first", yet she credits moving to Palestine with dramatically changing her experience of religion.

I moved here in 2006, by 2007—I moved here Fall of 2006, by Ramadan of 2007 I had started praying, cause and you know when I was in America I thought 'Oh, praying is just, you know you don't have to do it' but I didn't realize it was, I mean, it is, you know it's a must. You know? And I want to pray. I wanted to always pray. So I finally learned that and I finally understood what religion is, you know. It's so beyond praying and fasting and this and that—you know? And uh I became very proud. I started enjoying religion classes a lot. So now I feel like um I understand the religion much more—

The above quotes express the points of view of the small number of youth who had positive things to say about religion classes at school. Far more common were criticisms of these courses. Indeed, many students elected to be interviewed during *din* class because they said they found it boring or could not understand the Arabic. Study data point fairly solidly to the conclusion that religion classes at school did not enhance religious knowledge or understanding for the overwhelming majority of these youth.  These critiques are similar to the ways in which they described weekend religion classes in the US. Hasheema grew up in Michigan and attended weekend religion classes, but said she did not really learn much from them. Although there were two mosques near their home, she only went to a mosque on the *Eid*. Now living outside of Ramallah, she said, "I'm a better Muslim here for sure." Yet when asked about her current religion classes at school, she said they teach "stuff that doesn't even matter anymore".

Yeah, we take…yeah, but we learn things that aren't really like, like we'll learn about stuff that doesn't even matter anymore. Like history more so than religion. And we'll learn about, like, like now we're taking something called *zaqat*, like giving money to the poor.

Fadwa from Amman said simply "it's just those details, like, you have to memorize".

Miriam, who was born and raised in Atlanta and now lives in Ramallah, said religion classes are not "enhancing critical abilities":

We're studying religion in school, yeah, but I don't feel like…it, all they do is just give you rules, this is what you can't do, this is what you can do. Abide by them. I don't feel that they're enhancing our critical abilities of dealing with situations, or, it's just more like of giving you just this guidebook with strict rules, and just following them. That, I don't think that's what—[So you're not studying the Qur'an?] We—we memorize the Quran, but we're not studying the Quran.

Appeals to a type of piety based in mechanical conformity did not resonate for many of these young Muslims, especially girls, who wanted a deeper sense of meaning, an understanding of why Muslims believe and act as they do. Boys, on the other hand, rarely spoke of a quest for deeper meaning. Instead, they tended to discuss the joys of praying and going to the mosque or to be broadly critical of the Muslim society they found.

A few youth said that religious instruction was biased by cultural interpretations. Abla, who grew up in New Jersey and now lives in Amman, said her religious education began in Jordan. She described her father as a borderline atheist and her mother as non-practicing. She said that religion classes "don't really go into the spiritual like side" and "they don't really care about like having you like really understand or enjoy your learning, they just want you to learn the material and that's it". She described her male religion teachers as biased.

Yeah like sometimes you can just like see a bit of like bias like from teachers, because sometimes Islam is kind of like more, like leans more toward the guys, and like more privileges for them, and like once you have a male religion teacher, like it's supposed to be between, equality between the sexes, but the males over here in the society, like, they take their own liberties in like interpreting it as how they want it to be, where they have like more dominance, so once, so there are some things that when you take it, and then they're talking about the role of the woman, how she has to stay at home, she can't leave without asking her husband. [They say that in religion class?] Yeah it's not in the Qur'an but it's like, there were some questions, and then we take a lesson about the roles of each individual, and so like when it came to the woman, the teacher he like asked a question, he's like so what do you think about like the woman leaving the house without calling her husband?  Religious Growth*

Despite the nearly unanimous criticism of high school religion classes in Palestine and Jordan, 58% of the youth interviewed said that living in Palestine or Jordan did increase their religious knowledge and understanding. This group included those who said they learned nothing about Islam in the US, all but one of those who learned to be Muslim mainly from family members, about half of those who attended weekend religion classes at some point in their childhood, and one boy who attended a full-time Islamic school. For these youth, being surrounded by Muslims was key to their religious growth. They came to better understand Islam as a way of life and as a way of acting around others; they enjoyed sharing Muslim feasts and fasting communally. Boys especially appreciated the ease with which they could pray and attend mosque services, felt more commitment to a Muslim ethos [as moral and behavioral code], and generally more free to simply be Muslim. These youth derived a sense of completeness, freedom, and comfort from the ubiquity (Islam and Muslims are everywhere) and totality (the full Muslim experience) that contextualized social life as a Muslim in Palestine and Jordan, one that moves in concord with Muslim rituals, calendars, and sensibilities. It allowed for a social and psychological ease that accompanies feeling that one is a constituent part of the society instead of an outsider who must deal with the assumptions, expectations, and discrimination of others. The presence of large extended family, which was true for most but not all of these youth, added key reinforcement to being Muslim in multiple ways, as teachers, observers, reinforcers, disciplinarians, and communities with whom to share being

Muslim. These communities of support and face-to-face relationships with other Muslims were sorely lacking for many of these youth in the US, an outcome of migration and settlement patterns.

#### 5.3.1. Feeling Ease, Free, and Complete

Fadwa from Amman, who grew up in Houston, described the experience of being Muslim as one that feels "complete". Although she notes that it is the same Islam with the same rituals and feasts [*eids*], being surrounded by other Muslims and hearing the call to prayer [*adhan*] creates "a whole different feeling". That feeling propelled her to pray and read Qur'an.

Actually, being here, by itself, gave me a new, a new… I don't know, what would you call it. It's the same religion, same, same thing, same fasting in Ramadan, same *eids* and everything, but over here it's just, when you have all those people around you, most of them are Muslims…it's just, it's a whole different feeling. Like I hear the *adhan* over there, you know how the *adhan…* Yea, I started praying, and I'm reading Qur'an more. It's just, it's, it's a nice feeling– I don't know it's like, I felt, like, complete…

Husni from Ramallah, who grew up in Alabama learning about religion from his parents, also appreciated being surrounded by a community of Muslims who lived according to the same lunar-based schedule and celebrated feasts together. When speaking about fasting, Ramadan and the *eids*, he compares Palestine, where "everyone" is "used to what's going on" to the US, where fasting was perceived by those around him as abnormal, the rotations of the lunar calendar were confusing, and feasts were not really celebrations.

Here it's easier to be a Muslim. Cause like there's not really much trouble like you can, people are like are used to what you're doing. Like in Ramadan if you don't fast, everyone's not fasting, I mean everyone's fasting. But over there, if you fast everyone's like "what's going on, is he normal?" Like everything's changing. Cause Ramadan changes from time to time so they get confused. But here everyone is used to what's going on, and like on the Eid, everyone goes out and celebrates. Over there it's like a small Muslim community that goes out and celebrates and it's not as much as like really celebration, it's just being with each other at that time.

Ala' grew up in Virginia learning about Islam from his parents, a full time Islamic school until third grade, and then Sunday school. He now lives in Amman and acknowledges that "there were a lot of things I thought I knew, but I didn't know actually", signifying that his experience in Jordan has taught him substantially more about his religion. He described fasting during Ramadan while in the US as an outsider experience, sitting "in the library if I wanted, instead of sitting in the cafeteria, or if I wanted to hang out with my friends, I would still sit in the cafeteria with my friends and fast". In Jordan he said he actually *feels* Muslim, it's "regular" and he doesn't "stand out".

 It's like regular that I'm Muslim. Over there it's like something that stands out.

Alia, who said she is more religious in Jordan and understands Islam better, spoke about a greater sense of freedom that comes from not having to deal with the expectations of non-Muslims. Growing up in Minneapolis learning religion from her parents and at weekend classes she felt external pressures to act in certain ways because she was Muslim.

 Like it's more free to be a Muslim and people don't expect more out of you because you are Muslim.

Alia's perceptions of American expectations of Muslims mirror expectations held by quite a few Muslim American youth. Many had imagined that Muslims "back home" were unambiguously religiously observant, living their daily lives true to the rituals, values, and ethos of Islam. They assumed that a social environment compatible to Islam produced better Muslims. As we will see below, many of the youth who had this expectation became disappointed by the Muslim realities they found, circumstances that did not inspire their religious development.

#### 5.3.2. Islam is a Way of Life

Practicing Islam according to the Qur'an and Sunna [sayings of the Prophet] is intended to be a fully encompassing way of life that includes not only religious rituals but also ways of speaking, dressing, showing gratitude and humility, disciplining, and engaging in all sorts of social relationships. Jumana, who grew up in Florida, said she learned about these aspects of Islam living in Ramallah. In her view, Islam as practiced in the US follows a Christian model of attending services and praying, but that is only part of what Islam is.

Like it makes me more aware of what Islam is. It's not just a religion, it's a way of life and I never really understood that before.  It's more than what I thought. It's not just like you go to church on Sunday like I was used to over there in America.   Praying and Fasting around like Others

Boys who said they learned more about their religion in Palestine and Jordan were especially keen on mentioning the presence of mosques, fasting in the company of others doing the same, being able to pray during prayer times, and to pray anywhere. As noted earlier, mosques are places where men pray and listen to sermons; there are few mosques in Palestine and Jordan that accommodate women, who are expected to pray at home. Ala' described the Muslim American experience as one of concealment, as living in a place where a Muslim cannot pray openly, especially as compared to being able to pray "in the middle of the street".

Over here there are like mosques here—everywhere you're surrounded by Muslims, like especially when it comes to praying and fasting. I could do it in the middle of the street here and no one would—it would be regular. In America, it would be, it really stands out. Like if I would go and ask 50 people around me what religion they were, maybe only one person—not even one would be Muslim, so over there it's a lot more—its not secretive, but its more concealed.

Adnan, who grew up in Alabama and learned about Islam mostly from his parents, also felt that being able to pray anywhere without attracting stares made being Muslim easier in Jordan.

Being a Muslim is easier in Jordan cuz like you can pray anywhere. I mean like nobody will look at you but like in the States if you're in the mall or somewhere and its time to pray you have to go somewhere, everybody starts looking at you. But here it's easier.

Not all of the youth living in Jordan or Palestine would agree with him, but Ala' said he really liked the social life in Amman, which includes family, neighbors, and the way that religious practice is seamlessly woven into life due to the close proximity of the mosque.

See in America, great school, but not so great social life. Here, poor school, but great social life. So basically if the school was here great and the social life was great, it would be the perfect lifestyle. [So what makes it great?] I mean cause the family. We have family right here and I have another aunt in Marj il Hamam and we always sit with them, hang out, dinners. Also the religion. I have a mosque two minutes away from the house. I go there, pray, come back. We're friends with our neighbors. The friends here I can easily go out and have fun and we all live next to each other and stuff.

Sameeh grew up in a Chicago suburb that had only two Arab families and now lives in a village outside of Ramallah. In the US he learned about Islam from his parents and went to a mosque "occasionally, maybe twice a year … because there's not that many Fridays we get off." Even then, he said "we would just pray and then leave… I never really saw any Arabs or anything." Like Ala', he compares fasting in Palestine, where everyone is "doing it", to fasting in the US, where one must sit in the school lunchroom while everyone else is eating. Being in Palestine has helped him understand his religion more because practicing Muslims surround him. He highlights his ability to go to the mosque, listen to the sermons, and pray during class time, experiences he did not have in the United States.

Because 90% of the people here are Muslim compared to America, where I think it's like 1% are Muslim. I'm not sure. It's something like that. It's under 5% that's for sure. So going from where everyone around is Muslim and practicing the same thing. Ramadan and fasting month is easier cause everyone is doing it compared to when I used to sit at lunch and everyone is eating. So, and you learn more cause you go to the mosque more, you hear speeches, you learn a lot from the people around you because they're all religious and they hear things compared to just learning things from my parents and yeah. You learn a lot. Yeah I learned more, but I also practice my religion more here because in America I didn't really get up to go and pray in class, but over here it's '*adi*. It's normal.