Journal of Undergraduate Research
Volume 7, Issue 5 - May/June 2006

From Colonization to Migration:
The Religious and Cultural Effects on Muslims in the West as Illustrated in Contemporary Arabic Literature

B. Harrell

ABSTRACT

Religion, culture, and family have always been prominent themes in the works of Arab writers. This is particularly true of contemporary works. Those who live in the Middle East know and remember the disastrous and long-lasting effects of colonization on almost every facet of life of those colonized. This period of colonization was not only a test for, but also an assault on, the very culture and religion held so important by the Arab and Muslim people. From the colonial experience, a spirit of survival and perseverance imbued the collective consciousness of the generation under the subjugation of the West.

However, in today’s world, the Arab people are facing a frighteningly similar situation, only under different circumstances. In an increasingly global and integrated world, growing numbers of Arab individuals and families move northward and westward and begin to interact with the West in ways not seen during colonization. Through a cadre of modern Arabic writers, most notably Diana Abu Jabar, Leila Aboulela, and Leila Abouzeid, the clash caused by this migration has brought the struggle of culture and religion to a new generation of Muslims and Arabs born after the colonial period. In this seeming “reverse colonization,” we see the setting shift from the colonized lands of the Middle East to the West itself, but it is again the Arab people who are faced with a test to retain their roots, traditions, and customs in the midst of a Western environment. In addition, while generally more cultural differences have been focused upon in past literature, a clear emphasis by these writers is put on religion and its central role in the hearts of Muslims in the West. Therefore, though the memories and effects of colonization are still very alive (and even taught) in the Middle East today, how will this new generation of Arabs who were not present during colonization and now physically distant from the Middle East respond to this religious and cultural trial? Moreover, what implications will this clash between eastern immigrants and the West have on the Muslim religious and cultural traditions?

In this paper, I have begun to examine the import and, indeed, validity of the notion of a “reverse colonization” through, naturally, modern Arabic literature. I have also looked at the implications of this developing East-West interaction on the religion, culture, and family of the Arab people. Lastly, I have studied the future of this conflict and whether it will lead to irreconcilable differences or if it will open a constructive dialogue between East and West.

The term reverse colonization defines the setting and the labeling of the actors; however, it seems many of the same implications and repercussions remain. In “reserve colonization,” the Arabs who were formerly labeled as the “colonized” are now the ones who are immigrating and living in the societies of their former “colonizers.” And naturally, the setting has shifted from the colonized Arab lands to the West itself. Despite these differences from colonization and colonial literature, with reverse colonization it is still the culture and religion of the Arab people that are threatened, just as they were under the original colonization.Here I am discussing the work of three writers in particular, Diana Abu Jabar, Leila Aboulela, and Leila Abouzeid, because they are Arab writers who have had some form of contact with the West, whether from studying there or living there. The intimate and personal experiences with the West possessed by this group of Arab writers allows them to write with not just the Middle Eastern perspective but also with cognizance of the Western view.  

The novel Crescent (2003) by Diana Abu-Jaber is a good expression of the notion of reserve colonization. Half-American, half-Jordanian, Abu-Jaber knows first-hand both the East and the West, having lived in both, and, consequently, it is the issues of an Arab living in the West that she takes up in this novel. This story portrays the love affair between the protagonists Sirine, an Arab-American woman raised in Los Angeles, and Hanif, an Iraqi political exile who has been living in the West for a number of years. With the individual stories of Sirine and Hanif, the reader is presented two contrasting experiences of Arabs in the West, both of which suggest a reverse colonization. First, in the case of the immigrant Hanif, the story shows a clear loss of religion and culture as a result of being away from his homeland and being in the West. Arriving in America as a devout, praying Muslim, the years in the West slowly estranged Hanif from his religion as evinced by a letter from his brother in Iraq.  His brother writes,

Do you remember, when we were both in school, you telling me that you never missed saying your prayers? Your faith, you said, was what shaped your character and mind and gave you hope for the future. I wonder, Hanif, do you still say your prayers every day? (157-158)

The emphatic answer to his brother’s question is no. Later in the story, Sirine asks Hanif if he believes that Islam defines who he is, and he responds no, “I define myself by an absence” (161). He goes on to say that being removed from his country, his religion, and his culture is like part of his body is torn away and that many immigrants like him feel “exiled from themselves” (162). Clearly, Hanif feels that his culture and religion—his identity—are not only threatened in the West, but essentially lost. Sadly, at the end of the story, Hanif returns to Iraq even though he is under the penalty of death. All of this because he could not withstand the siege that the West fronted against his religion and culture.

The other half of the love affair in Crescent is that of the half-Arab, half-American Sirine. Though quite dissimilar to that of Hanif, Sirine’s story still shows the effects of the West on one’s Arab roots just the same. Being ignorant of her Arab and Muslim heritage since she was orphaned at a young age, Sirine as a person has felt largely undefined and alone especially in terms of culture and religion. This changes, however, at the beginning of her love affair with Hanif, as he awakens in her the heritage and roots that she has always been unaware of and curious about. As the two begin discussing these things feelings of guilt and alienation come up in Sirine. When Hanif asks her if she knows any Arabic, she “feels guilty that she can’t speak it” (117) and even calls the language “impossible” (117), though she admits she would love to able to speak it. In addition, Hanif recognizes her true detachment from her Arab heritage when he asks her, “What makes a place feel like home for you?” “Work,” she says. “Work is home.” “How American of you,” he responds. “And is work family as well?” “It might be” (118).

Sirine, living in the West, has virtually no connection to her Arab roots. Also important to recognize is that Sirine’s case shows us the difference in feelings and emotions between an Arab-American born and raised in the West and an Arab immigrant like Hanif. While Hanif experienced homesickness and longing for the religion and culture he knew so well, Sirine feels a guilt over the roots and heritage she has never known and alienation from both East and West. The notion of reverse colonization applies here as we see a distinct loss of religion and culture in Hanif and a clear ignorance and hopelessness with Sirine, while both are in the West.

Leila Aboulela’s 2005 novel, Minaret, shows us a story of an Arab’s immigration to the West very different from the story of Sirine and Hanif. The author herself was born in Khartoum, Sudan, but moved to Ireland, and, like Abu-Jaber, knows the struggles and trials of an immigrant in the West.

In Minaret, the main character, Najwa, like Hanif, migrates from East to West; however, her experiences there and her subsequent reactions differ greatly. The story begins with the rich, somewhat snobby Najwa living a lavish lifestyle with her aristocratic family in Khartoum. She is intensely secular and even critical to those devout Muslims around her. Talking about her childhood, she states, “We weren’t brought up in a religious way.… We weren’t even friends in Khartoum with people who were religious” (95). Najwa’s life of maids and Mercedes quickly changes when there is a political coup in Sudan and her family is expelled to England. Over the next five years living in London, her father is executed back in Sudan, her mother passes away, and her brother is sent to an English prison on drug charges. Najwa, now poor after the expropriation of her family’s money, is forced to become a maid. Needless to say, Najwa’s world has been turned up side down.

Additionally, as an Arab, she is not well received in the country. For example, a group of drunken men pour a bottle of Coke over her calling her “Muslim scum” (81) while she rides the public bus to work one day. She is overwhelmingly rejected and shunned by most Londoners and begins to feel alone in the world.

This is where Najwa’s life begins to change. After meeting a young Muslim one day, she visits the local mosque that evening. She begins to become struck with feelings of belonging, but also fear and guilt. After the visit she thinks to herself,

It would be difficult for me to pray, to remember the times of the prayer, to wash, to find clean cloth to cover myself. It would be an uphill climb. I felt a stab of guilt at my laziness but I pushed it away (161).

Despite these initial misgivings, Najwa feels increasingly more attracted and accepted into the Muslim community in London. Through Islam and a new connection to her heritage from Sudan, she again feels she has something to live for. Moreover, despite her ignorance and rejection of Islam and the Arab culture during her adolescence and the first years in England, she becomes extremely devout and zealous even to the point of wanting to convert her incarcerated brother. “Ever since I started to pray and wear hijab, I have been hoping he would change like I’ve changed” (95), she explains. The irony is quite clear here as Najwa, while living in upper-class Sudan, feels detached from her Muslim and Arab/African surroundings; however, when she becomes a poor, isolated maid in London she begins to identify more with her homeland’s religion and culture. So, what does this tell us at least concerning reverse colonization? Najwa’s story represents how positive change can come from the harsh environment for Arabs in the West. Instead of defaulting on religion while far from her homeland (as does Hanif), Najwa, from her isolation and despair, actually gains Islam. In so many words, Najwa has “passed” the trial that the West gives Arabs and Muslims, and she succeeded in the face of this hardship. Therefore, Leila Aboulela gives the reader an example of a Muslim living in the West that was able to persevere and hold fast to her Islamic roots and heritage, just as her ancestors did under colonial rule.

Leila Abouzeid’s The Last Chapter (2003) confronts reverse colonization by looking at racism against Arabs in America and the corruption of Arab family values in America. Though most of the actual story takes place in Morocco, it places the reader in the West when the main character Aisha receives an unexpected visit from her childhood friend Al-Raddad, who has been living in America for the last twenty years. It is through Al-Raddad that Abouzeid is truly able to speak to the problems, specifically racism, for a Muslim in America. Al-Raddad tells how he, chasing the “American Dream,” lived in mansions and slums, luxury hotels and homeless shelters, and got married and got divorced. In describing his drive to become successful and accepted in America, he says,

“Skin-color got in the way. I couldn’t change my features. We never really joined the establishment. We were like people trying to make a hit at a party where everyone knew we hadn’t been officially invited.”

Aisha responds,

“And Reagan claimed it was impossible to go to Japan and integrate into the culture, but that anyone could go to the States and become American?”

“It’s a myth. Look at the blacks. They’ve been there five centuries and still don’t feel American…” (14).

Later Al-Raddad adds, “We lost everything, our dreams…the marriage. My life is a failure” (16). This narrative plainly confronts the racism and subsequent hardships an Arab immigrant (or possibly any immigrant) to America could face. Al-Raddad also mourns over how his family in America did not have the same Arab values and religious grounding he felt Arab families back home did.

“They celebrate Halloween…They say it’s just another holiday. It’s devil worship if you ask me! Just like rock music with its blasphemous beat” (25).

As family values are held very high in Arab culture, this perceived affront on and corruption of his family was a death blow to Al-Raddad. For Al-Raddad, his story ends by a sad and ignominious return to Morocco with a disillusionment and distaste for the “American Dream.” He ends by sadly lamenting, “If I had known then what I know now, I’d never have left my country” (18).

Taken as a whole, these books do not suggest that Muslims or Arabs cannot go to the West and lead happy, successful lives. Obvious examples disprove that. The purpose of this paper was to address the problems and struggles that are known to afflict Arab and Muslims immigrants and to see what their responses and reactions are to them in the contemporary literature. Colonized Arabs struggled to retain and preserve their heritage and religion. The literature suggests that the next generation, born after colonization, also clings to its roots the way the colonial ancestors did in the midst of a foreign and unfamiliar Western rule. Descriptions of reverse colonization assert that Muslims and Arabs in the West face extremely trying situations, like those of the original colonization. The answers provided by the characters in these stories are less clear and less homogenous. We are presented with varying cases from Hanif, who under his religious and cultural trial in the West, ends up fleeing to his home country, to Najwa, who, faced with rejection and alienation, responded by fiercely attaching herself to Islam and her Sudanese culture. These authors of Modern Arabic Literature are conveying one message: Muslims and Arab immigrants in the West will face trial and hardship, but those who are the strong in the face of opposition are able to hold fast to their homeland’s roots and heritage, and those who are weak will lose their roots and heritage that their colonized ancestors worked so hard to keep.

REFERENCES

  1. Aboulela, Leila. Minaret. London: Grove Press, Black Cat, 2005.
  2. Abouzeid, Leila. The Last Chapter. Trans. John Liechety. Cairo: The American University in Cairo Press. 2003.
  3. Abu-Jaber, Diana. Crescent. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 2003.

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