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Ayaan Hirsi AliA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
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Content Warning: The section includes discussion of gender violence, female genital mutilation, and the physical and sexual abuse of children.
Throughout the memoir, Hirsi Ali looks at the different mechanisms of gendered socialization, suggesting that these mechanisms have to be dismantled so women can reclaim their agency.
One of the ways Hirsi Ali illustrates how socialized gender roles erase the agency of a woman is through examining the weaponization of language. The Somali concept of a baarri, the ideal woman, is a case in point. In Hirsi Ali’s words: “A woman who is baarri is like a pious slave. She honors her husband’s family and feeds them without question or complaint […] If her husband is cruel, if he rapes her […], if he decides to take another wife, or beats her, she […] hides her tears” (11). Somali women are brought up to be baarri, their family’s “honor” depending on it. When a woman strays from the path of a baarri, she shames her father and brothers. By raising baarri—eternal victimhood and silence—onto a pedestal, society ensures empowerment and voice are seen as shameful sins.
Gendered norms also obliterate women’s agency through designating the female body a site of shame. The clitoris, the focus of female pleasure, is deemed monstrous and impure, as can be seen when Ayeeyo insists that an unchecked clitoris will grow large, misshapen, dangling between her granddaughters’ legs, making them unmarriageable. In this context, female genital mutilation, or excision, is presented as a method to “tame” and civilize the unruly clitoris. The clitoris represents wild female desire, unmitigated pleasure, and must therefore be snipped off. Ayeeyo’s disgust at the clitoris is a distillation of her internalized misogyny, Ayeeyo hating her own woman’s body for its supposed limitations. Thirdly, Hirsi Ali analyzes how the concept of segregated spaces forces women into margins, making them shrink their bodies and give up their space. In Jeddah, where women are not allowed to go out without a mahram, a guardian, Asha is shunned by grocery sellers as she shops with her minor son, till she starts hating going out. Asha is increasingly shut inside the house, since the vast world outside does not accommodate the presence of unchaperoned women.
For Hirsi Ali, even the practice of veiling acts as segregation, cutting off women from the rest of the world and confining them. Although the veil is about preserving the “modesty” God holds dear, Hirsi Ali argues that in practice it limits women’s movement and marks them as fundamentally different from men. The devastating effects of gendered socialization makes its deconstruction all the more important.
Hirsi Ali is born into a family that practices Islam, though “diluted, relaxed about regular praying, mixed up with more ancient beliefs” (41). Due to the relaxed nature of her childhood faith, the sudden turn to a stricter form of Islam in Saudi Arabia takes Ayaan by surprise, leading her to wrestle with faith, doubt, and the construction of moral authority.
Asha now asks the children to pray five times a day, wrapping themselves in white cloth before each prayer. She dislikes Ayaan and Haweya praying next to their father on the mat, as women and men should not pray together, “Women pray behind, because though they cover themselves for prayer, that cloth could shift and uncover a piece of clothing, or skin, which could distract the men and lead them into sin” (44). Ayaan dislikes the way this new faith clamps down on her freedoms, but by the time she is a teenager in Nairobi, she begins to embrace a more conservative Islam herself. She likes veiling herself because it guards her from the male gaze, and regards the value of modesty and veiling as a non-Western form of feminism. However, as she grows older, Ayaan increasingly finds a gap between her yearning for a higher ethical order and the reality of religion. Her journey in the book becomes about finding a moral authority outside the framework of organized religion.
One of Ayaan’s biggest sources of doubt as a young Muslim is the position of women in Islam. While Sister Aziza maintains that women are different but equal in Islam, the radical preacher Boqol Sawm lectures that total obedience to their husbands is the rule for women. Ayaan asks Boqol Sawm if husbands too should obey wives, both being equal to each other; in response the preacher yells “Certainly not! […] You may not question Allah’s word! His mind is hidden” (103). Once Ayaan reaches the West, she also starts getting bothered by what she sees as the enslaver-enslaved aspect of the relationship between God and subject in Islam. In this relationship, God cannot be questioned, much as Boqol Sawm had maintained. However, for Ayaan, if God is just and merciful, He should allow questioning. Most importantly, Ayaan begins to realize that the most religious people can also be the cruelest, whether Christian or Muslim. It dawns on her that being a good person and being a religious person are two separate things. If ethics can flourish outside of religion, moral authority must be located in the secular space as well.
Ayaan notes that when she was younger, “I didn’t for one instant imagine that a moral framework for humanity could exist that wasn’t religious. There was always a God […] If you didn’t accept God, then you couldn’t have a morality” (229). In 2002, when her ex-boyfriend Marco gifts her a book called The Atheist Manifesto, “before I’d read four pages, I already knew my answer. I had left God behind years ago. I was an atheist” (281). She looks at herself in the mirror and says aloud in Somali that she does not believe in God, flooded with a sense of relief.
Facing herself in the mirror signifies a moment of reckoning, while speaking the truth in Somali, her mother tongue, indicates a reconfiguration that goes down to the very roots. By allowing herself to admit that she locates her moral compass outside God and His organized religion, Ayaan also establishes her individualism. She becomes her own moral authority.
The right to express one’s views freely is an important theme in the book, with Hirsi Ali contending that freedom of speech is the one value which makes a society truly liberal. In her worldview, there should be no cow too holy to slaughter, no God who cannot be questioned publicly. Suppressing free speech suppresses free thought and engenders brutal, authoritarian structures.
Hirsi Alis’s views on free speech must be read in context of the enforced silence of her childhood, where children and women were subjugated for speaking out. When Ayaan asks Boqol Sawm a logical question, he yells at her to be quiet as “Satan is speaking to you” (103), making her ask questions. The free voice of her reason is equated with the voice of the devil. In another instance, a ma’alim beats up Ayaan after she tells him he has no right being in her house alone with her, as he is not their relative. The teacher returns with another man and pulls Ayaan’s hair so hard her skull cracks; later, Asha punishes Ayaan some more by tying her up and beating her. Ayaan’s skull is fractured, and she gets surgery to save her life. Thus, the price of speaking out is death for Ayaan and many girls and women like her in the book’s milieu.
Even during the marriage ceremony with Mahmud, Ayaan’s first husband, the qali asks her to identify herself, as is the custom, before telling her, “You are not required to answer, your presence is enough” (141). (The qali twists the Islamic injunction that a virgin can give “silent” consent for a marriage to be solemnized; in Islam, a woman’s consent is mandatory for a marriage). Given the history of being silenced and erased, speech becomes a revolutionary act for Ayaan. When she sees free speech in action in the West, she begins to speak aloud the doubts she has harbored for a long time about Islam. While Hirsi Ali’s views on Islam are provocative, she argues that she has the inalienable right to express them freely.
Her love for the Netherlands is intertwined with the Dutch love for free speech: Early in the memoir she notes that “No nation in the world is more deeply attached to freedom of expression than the Dutch” (2). Later, when she describes Pim, she calls him “a provocateur, which is a very Dutch thing to be” (283). So deep is Ayaan’s belief in free speech that she risks her life time and again to establish her right to expression. A crucial question which arises in this context is why she continues to court danger. Ayaan explains that like anyone else, she wants to live, but for her living in silence is a fate worse than death.



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