In Their Own Words: Muslim Women Reconstruct the Sexual Script

Abstract

Using semi-structured, qualitative interviews of 25 heterosexual Muslim women residing in the US, the author examines the extent to which respondents simultaneously constructed and deconstructed the gender dichotomy when explaining sexuality, countering reductionist accounts of Muslim women’s sexuality. Integrating concepts of religiosity and gender norms, respondents reconfigured the dominant discourse of power and sexuality in innovative ways. One of the main themes that emerged from this research is that male sex drive discourse, typically associated with power and “machismo” within the traditional sexual script, was reimagined by Muslim women as an indicator of women’s greater strength in the eyes of God.

1. Introduction

Heterosexual sexuality is a central site that at once anchors, reproduces, and reflects gender norms and gender power relations [1,2,3,4]. As Christ (2016) asserts, patriarchy is a system in which men dominate women through the control of female sexuality. Any woman who dares to control her own sexuality is questioning the foundations of the patriarchal system (p. 218). Islam is often stereotyped by outsiders as a patriarchal religion, and Muslim men are stereotyped as dominating Muslim women [5,6,7,8]. Gender segregation in Islamic religious settings is often cited as evidence of men’s higher standing in the Muslim community. After all, where there is sex segregation, there tends to be sex/gender hierarchies (this is true in the religious as well as secular arenas). This assumption of patriarchy in religious practices often leads to the assumption of men’s power (and women’s lack of agency) in sexual practices as delineated by the traditional sexual script (TSS) [9].

Often, however, Islam is viewed through an ethnocentric lens in that it is presumed that gender segregation is inextricable from patriarchy. Hence, the author sought to understand this gender segregation from Muslim women’s perspectives. Respondents’ views of this practice and whether they translated into dichotomous assumptions about male and female sexuality were foregrounded in this research. It is important to note that there are some crucial differences between assumptions about sex in Islamic and non-Islamic traditions. Islam is considered to be a “sex positive” religion in which procreation is not necessarily a goal of sex. Indeed, sex—even for pleasure—is often considered to be a blessing to God or Ibada [10] (p. 70). Despite the fact that, according to some scholars, sex is relegated to the marital relationship, the “pure”/virgin woman is not valorized as she is in non-Muslim society [11] (p. 29). As heterosexual sexual relations are reflective of gender norms, it is a particularly important area of investigation into a religion presumed to be oppressive to women.

Feminist Muslim scholars indicate some unfavorable interpretations of sex and relationships in Islam are viewed through a patriarchal and/or Eurocentric lens (e.g., [7]), as discussed below. It is important to underscore the fact that, as Tolino [12] states, “Even within Islamic traditions, namely traditions in which Islam has a prominent role, a monolithic vision of gender and sexuality is not appropriate: we move within contested fields, with different institutional realms trying to impose control over them, even within the same historical context” (pp. 293–294). Tolino echoes Hidayatullah [13], who warns against the essentialization of Islam when neither Islam nor Muslims are a monolith that has only one interpretation or vantage point as it pertains to religion or sexuality. Thus, instead of attempting to essentialize Islamic religious texts, this research not only employs standpoint theory, which situates knowledge from respondents’ perspectives, but it also engages with the lived religion approach.

The lived religion approach, which focuses on how religion is practiced, has been developed due to the fact that religion is not an ahistorical phenomenon that can be extricated from the cultural contexts of its adherents. This approach mitigates the issues that result from an essentialist view of religious doctrine by starting from the lived—and nuanced—experiences of its adherents. As Knibbe and Kupari [14] state, “Rather than assuming an inherent incompatibility between religion and modernity, it enquires into how religion is encountered and experienced—how it comes into play—in different environments: public and private, official and informal, sacred, secular, and religiously ‘neutral’” (p. 159). According to Ammerman [15], a focal point of lived religion is “individual agency and autonomy rather than collectivities or traditions” as well as the inclusion of previously marginalized voices (p. 83). That is, it is important that researchers do not infantilize Muslim women by asserting that their experiences of empowerment are invalid due to a dominant—and decontextualized—view of Islam. As Fagen and Wright [16] discuss in their research on Mormon fundamentalists, the dominant narrative that has not started from these women’s experiences has “essentially denied women’s agency and has posited their roles as invisible or inferior” (p. 11). That is, it leads to an “unauthentic narrative” [17]. Starting from women’s lived experiences helps to mitigate a paternalistic vantage point of non-Muslims, which, ironically, tends to be attributed to Muslim men.

This infantilization according to the dominant group’s perception of a static, unidimensional, and universally understood “Islam” or “Muslim experience” is reminiscent of the concept of “White logic”, which, according to Bonilla-Silva and Zuberi [18], “Grants eternal objectivity to the views of elite Whites and condemns the views of non whites to perpetual subjectivity” (p. 18). However, “[n]o Archimedean point of observation free from the conditions of perception or the characteristics of the observer can be created” [19] (p. 672). The centering of Muslim women respondents’ experiences and perspectives acts to decenter the hegemonic White gaze, which is part and parcel of White logic that has so often been imposed upon marginalized groups in academic research [20] As Hooks [21] puts it, the interpretations from the perspective of the White gaze become viewed as a“normal reality of common-sense’’ (p. 75). In other words, the White gaze elevates White people’s perspectives over the perspectives of people of color. Although not all Muslims are people of color, they are commonly thought of as such, hence the fact that Islamophobia is defined as a form of racism [22]. Further, the majority of respondents in this research are women of color.

Sociological literature indicates that men and women experience their sexuality differently due to culturally prescribed norms, which are delineated in the traditional sexual script (TSS). The TSS is an outcome of the gender dichotomy, which dictates that men and women have oppositional and complementary gendered traits. Within this dichotomy, femininity (e.g., passivity, emotionality, nurturance, and sensitivity) is devalued, whereas masculinity is associated with aggression, authority, stoicism, and fearlessness. Most importantly, “masculinity exists by marginalizing femininity—both through gender and sexual relations” [23] (p. 192). It is also important to note that although the TSS is an outcome of the gender dichotomy, the TSS also reinforces and reifies the gender dichotomy insofar as the latter can recreate what are (falsely) perceived to be biological differences between the sexes in terms of gender attributes.

These gender attributes also construct the male and female bodies as oppositional and asymmetrical. The TSS—in which men are posited as active and aggressive initiators and women are the passive recipients of this initiation—has been constructed as an outcome of gender dichotomization. Specifically, this script, which was first defined by Gagnon and Simon in 1974 [24], guides the “sequencing of sexual behavior leading to intercourse” [25] (p. 210). The TSS not only dictates the order of sexual contact, but it also allows men’s sexual initiation, dominance, and even aggression in the sexual encounter to fit within the parameters of the dichotomized gender schema. This gender schema is also informed by a societal discourse that male sexual desire is uncontrollable and allows for its expression, whereas women’s sexual desire is presumed to be passive and accommodating [26,27,28]. This male sex drive discourse is not only perceived as natural but as a factor that elevates men’s status in society. That is, men’s physical potency is associated with their social potency.

The presumed sexual passivity ascribed to women in this discourse is infantilizing as it intimates that women lack agency, both physically and metaphorically. It has thus become a woman’s role to be the “sexual gatekeeper” who sets limits on a man’s sexual advances, thus preserving the assumption that women do not enjoy sex as much as men, ultimately leading to an inhibition of women’s sexual expression [26,27,28]. As Harris et al. [29] explain, these gendered assumptions lead to women’s reticence to have sex for their own pleasure. This reticence leads to the oft-cited (mis)information that women have lower sex drives than men, presumably based on the latter’s low testosterone levels [30]. According to van Anders [30], the connection between men’s presumed higher testosterone levels and greater sex drive is merely correlational (sex drive can increase testosterone rather than testosterone increasing sex drive) and based on faulty research methods anchored by gendered pre-theory. Van Anders indicates that, for a variety of reasons, women are less likely to view orgasm as a result of heterosexual intercourse—a statistically accurate assumption—leading to lower testosterone levels, whereas sexual desire in men is linked to higher testosterone levels due to the statistical likelihood of achieving orgasm during sex with women. Most interestingly, per van Anders, high testosterone levels in women are linked to solitary sexual desire (versus dyadic sexual desire) due to the comparatively higher likelihood of achieving orgasm. That is, most research on the correlation between men’s and women’s sexual desire and testosterone levels has ignored the gendered nuances of sexual experiences. This is echoed by Raisanen et al. [31], who indicate that “exual desire and testosterone are widely assumed to be directly and positively linked to each other despite the lack of supporting empirical evidence” (p. 667) and Mark and Lasslo [32] who state, “The assumption that men have higher sexual desire than women overall is simply not consistently supported by the data in the context of relationships” (p. 14). Indeed, Murray’s [33] research showed that the majority of male respondents reported that the sexual desire they demonstrated was “sometimes feigned in order to appear more masculine or to prevent upsetting their female partner”, concluding that “…outward demonstrations of sexual interest may not always be accurate representations of men’s true experiences” (p. 130).

2. Materials and Methods

As I am a White, non-Muslim woman, attention to dismantling the White gaze in this research was imperative. I started meeting respondents after spending a couple of weeks visiting a large Islamic center/mosque in the Southern US on Fridays during Jumah prayer, which is considered a cornerstone of Islamic worship. Outsider status was evident because I always remained seated rather than praying, as there was no attempt to “trick” anyone into thinking I was Muslim. After attending Jumah prayer a few times and engaging in some casual conversations prior to and after the service, I let the women know that I was a researcher who was interested in writing about Muslim women’s experiences. Although I did not provide much insight into why I was interested in this topic to potential respondents so as to mitigate biasing the research, my interest was based upon the growing antipathy toward Muslims in recent years based on, in part, the stereotype that Muslim women are oppressed by their own husbands (e.g., [6,34]). I experienced no hostility from these women, and they were quite willing to be interviewed. In fact, after some time getting to know them, I was invited to events, such meals at restaurants and their homes, birthday parties, and observe a matchmaking event at the Islamic center. I was also invited to a conversion (referred to as “reversion”) ceremony.and to visit a respondent in the hospital after she gave birth. I continued to attend various weekly services at the mosque for at least six months and attended events at their homes for well over a year. All of the women I met were extremely warm, welcoming, and generous (as were their husbands).

An interview guide included demographic questions, questions about Islamophobia, stereotypes about Muslims and Muslim women in particular, as well as questions pertaining to gender roles and sexual intimacy. The interviews were only in English, which all respondents spoke fluently. For instance, respondents were asked about women’s and men’s roles within the home (e.g., economic, housework), who decides how many children a woman will have, if they and their husbands are permitted to refuse to have sex with one another, men’s and women’s role during sex/sexual scripts, how they feel about separation in the mosque by sex, and views about modest clothing and head coverings (hijab and niqab) for women. Interviews were digitally recorded and lasted from approximately one hour to four hours, with the average interview lasting for approximately 1.5 hours. Respondents had to be over 18 years of age to participate. In total, 32 (7 men and 25 women) interviews with self-identified Muslims were recorded using an audio device and transcribed verbatim. However, only the data from women respondents are discussed henceforth, as men’s narratives were not included in the current research, despite the fact that their views did not diverge from their wives’ views.

All respondents signed a consent form. They were between 22 and 65 years of age, with an average age of 30.5. Nine participants were in college at the time of the interviews, ten were college graduates, five had graduate school degrees, and one was a high school graduate. All but two of the respondents are women of color, and all but three of the respondents were born Muslim (the others converted/reverted to Islam as adults). Fifteen of the respondents were born in the US, and of the remaining respondents, seven were raised from early childhood in the US. The others immigrated to the US as adults. Participants were Pakistani (n = 12), Indian (n = 3), Indonesian (n = 5), Bangladeshi (n = 1), Afghan (n = 1), Mexican American (n = 1), Italian American (n = 1), and German America (n = 1). All self-identified as heterosexual, and all but three of the respondents were married (two respondents were divorced, and one was single).

In addition to these interviews, the author conducted approximately 400 h of participant observation in mosques during various ceremonies, marriage matchmaking ceremonies, holiday celebrations, Islamic seminars, lunches, and other events. Field notes were recorded, typically with a tape recorder/memo pad, with the consent of participants.

After transcribing the interviews, the researcher scrutinized the transcripts line by line for emergent themes [35], which were then coded and separated into categories. Categories for these themes were developed after approximately 5 interviews, which were further refined as the interview process proceeded. Sometimes, a new category was created to accommodate a new theme, in which case the researcher reviewed previous data in order to assess its compatibility with new themes and make further adjustments. In other cases, themes gleaned from the initial 5 interviews were discarded as they were not a recurrent pattern. Pseudonyms were assigned to each respondent to protect their identity.

It is important to note that the researcher will not delve into Qur’anic/Hadith (the Qur’an is the sacred text of Islam, and the Hadith are the reports about the Prophet Muhammad’s sayings and practices that guide the behavior of Muslims) teachings or refer to the Qur’an/Hadith other than to quote respondents or to clarify their assertions. Further, none of the respondents claimed to be Islamic scholars; most were very clear that they were speaking from their own experiences and not as representatives of Islam. Mention of the Qur’an/Hadith will be based on respondents’ (self-reported, non-scholarly) interpretations as they pertain to the issue of gender equality and sexuality. That is, their views of Islamic teachings shape, in some cases, their gender and sexual belief systems. The accuracy of the actual text is not as important as how respondents interpret the text and incorporate it into their lived experiences. This is not to say that respondents misinterpret Islamic texts, but rather, as sociologists, the authors embrace the contention that perception is reality [36].

The approach adopted in this study borrowed from feminist methodologists, such as Bhavnani [37], who suggests that the concept of “situated knowledge” should replace traditional understandings of objectivity. In order to circumvent traditional notions of objectivity, some feminist methodologists have used standpoint theory as the epistemological foundation of their research. Standpoint theory (also referred to as a feminist participatory methodology) is a philosophy of knowledge that embraces subjectivity by grounding knowledge in experience through interviews and narrative analysis. Thus, rather than viewing subjective experience as interfering with the research process, standpoint theorists use respondents’ lived experience as a starting point for analysis [38]. Islamic feminists have used this methodology to “interrogate patriarchal interpretations of the [Islamic] tradition in terms of both textual legacies and social realities, while retrieving egalitarian impulses within Islam” [10] (p. 190). Although there is no consensus regarding what counts as feminist methodology [38,39,40,41], the primary goal of the current research was to transform the interviewee from a subject into an integral part of the investigation [42]. That is, women’s lived experiences were foregrounded in this research process.

Although there is no singular understanding of what feminist methodological research entails, it is firmly grounded in the feminist theoretical challenge to the patriarchal production of knowledge that has characterized traditional science. These “unacknowledged gender meanings” must be brought to the fore in order to understand experiences that are congruent with women’s lives as “master narratives” created by those in dominant groups can further disempower those in marginalized groups [43].

3. Results

As opposed to the stereotypes, respondents indicated that they experience a great deal of equality in their relationships with men. As Badia (one of the respondents) claims, “Our marriage is a workshop…he works in my shop [laughter]. If you observe a woman in her home, typically a woman has more power”. This equality in household duties, childrearing, and financial matters extended into their sexual relationships. As opposed to the TSS, which positions women as passive recipients of men’s sexual initiatives and pleasure, the respondents indicate that women have equal rights to sexual pleasure in their relationships. Indeed, women’s sexual needs are said to take precedence over their partners’ needs.

3.1. Male Sex Drive Discourse Deconstructed

As previously discussed, the male sex drive discourse presumes that men have a higher sex drive than women, which is associated with men’s perceived higher testosterone levels, strength, dominance, and capabilities both inside and outside of the bedroom. The traditional sexual script, which anchors the male sex drive discourse, is a logical outcome of a society dichotomized by gender in which men and women are said to have oppositional—yet complementary—qualities. Since the traditional sexual script is informed by inequality between men and women (men as dominant initiators; women as passive recipients), if men are “naturally” more aggressive than women, so is their sex drive. Conversely, women are viewed as recipients of men’s sexual desires rather than sexual subjects who receive enjoyment from sexual contact.

Many respondents envisioned men and women as two distinct kinds of people. This message was reinforced at each religious lecture I attended. It is also echoed by academic Muslim feminists:

“Allah demonstrates the Qur’an that the form given to humankind is that form best suited to fulfill its vicegerency on earth. In addition, one characteristic of human creation is the two distinct but compatible genders. The two constitute a part of that which ‘perfects’ the human created form”.

[44]

In Islam, sex difference is a necessity to create the earthly representation of Allah (God) since Allah is considered to be equal parts “masculine” and “feminine” [44]. However, unlike secular society or Judeo-Christian tradition where gendered traits are ascribed to each sex, the Qur’an does not, according to Wadud [44], provide any different “tasks” or gendered qualities to men and women other than the biological capability of giving birth. Traits typically thought of as “masculine” or “feminine” in secular society are thought of as universal in Islam, hence equally accessible to and appropriate for both men and women. This equality was alluded to consistently by respondents when they explained why men and women are similar in terms of their sexuality.

For instance, when asked why women are seated behind men in sex-integrated prayer rooms in some mosques, Lisha responded, “They’ll be distracted.” When I responded, “Right, the men will be distracted”, Laela (Lisha’s friend) corrected me by indicating that the women would be distracted. This was a pivotal moment where my White gaze became apparent, and it was necessary to (re)center Muslim women’s experiences. Lisha states, “Yeah so when I used to go to the [name] masjid, the men are on the bottom and the women would prey upstairs so I would pray in the very front and I told [woman’s name] and [woman’s name] that I keep catching myself during the during the lecture and during prayer looking over.” At this point, Laela interjects, “I look at it as God’s way of watching for us. ‘Well, ladies, have fun!’ You know all of them lined up with their…[reference to the salah prayer position called sajda (prostration) when men’s forehead, nose, palms of hand, knees, and toes are touching the floor and their hips are in the air]”.

When asked if women are more sexually in control of themselves than men, Laela responded, “No, I don’t think so. I think the most freaky-deeks I’ve meet are Muslim women.” Moreover, Lilah recognizes that the stereotype of men’s higher sex drive is guided by cultural norms when she says, “We’ve been told this narrative over time and time again…we’ve been told that we were the caretakers. There is no time for sex, like men just think about it all the time. I think we have just as much of a sex drive as men to be honest...”.

Nisa (age 41) was most vocal about her high sex drive and asserted that if a man or a woman is not satisfied by their partner, they are likely to seek fulfillment elsewhere:

Nisa: Yea, like ya know if your husband denies you, doesn’t pleasure you the way that he should, what are you gonna do? You’re gonna go out and look with something. Interviewer: Do they need equally? Women and men?

Nisa: [laughter] It goes both ways, it’s like, some men don’t need it as often, some women don’t need it as often. Me, if I get it morning afternoon and night and then some, I’m happy, but that’s just me. I’m just a very sexual person.

Some respondents quite explicitly attributed their belief in men’s and women’s equal sex drives to their equality in Islam in general:

Aisha: There’s a lot to say about respect for women. I feel my faith elevates my status as a woman. I always see it as an uplifting thing for women…then there’s the life of the prophet who… it tells a lot. It tells that the message behind Islam is equality. There’s nothing really that I feel subjugates women or puts women beneath men. I would say that the desire for sex is equal in both men and women and there’s no shame in desiring a man because that what was shown in his [Prophet Muhammad’s] wife proposing to him. Nowhere does God say women should not enjoy sex. The equality part, everything a man wants a woman want too. There’s never any distinction between a sexual desire for a man and a woman. It’s the same…There’s no distinction between different levels of enjoyment between men and women. It leads a woman to believe it’s her right as much as her husbands’.

Farah believes that equality not only comes from Islam in the bedroom but extends from the bedroom to society in general:

Farah: Yea, so but for the most part, women have a lot of control I guess you could say in the bedroom and that translates to life in general. If you know all the things that you have the right to do and that you have the ability to do and the things that you can ask for.

Interviewer: In the bedroom?

Farah: Yea and outside of the bedroom even.

Interviewer: So that extends? Crosses a barrier?

Farah: Right. It just shows you, hey, if I have such a high power in this situation [the bedroom], what’s stopping me from doing other stuff?

This is a departure from secular society (and some other religions), which calls for women to maintain their sexual composure and repress their sexual desire in order to maintain their femininity. Women’s demand for equal sexual pleasure did not represent a gender transgression but a right given to them as equal members of a marital relationship, thus solidifying women respondents’ position as equals in Islam.

3.2. The Weaker Sex

Although not attributed to Islam, some respondents did feel that men were less in control of their sexual urges than women. The most notable aspect of their accounts, however, was not men’s perceived inability to control their urges (and here I am only referring to the urge to look at women), but the fact that, rather than connecting that sex drive with traditional notions of masculinity (strength, aggression, and dominance), it was connected with femininity (weakness and frailty). When Laila was asked if she thought men had higher sex drives than women, she responded:

I think so yes…I think that’s just in them…biological…Think about like who gets catcalled when they’re walking down the street…men are inherently weaker that they will check out a woman even if we’re fully covered they are going to try and imagine what’s in there okay so that’s going to happen that’s just their, um, weakness honestly.

Nedira said, “I think they’re weaker. I think they have a harder time with self-control than women do. That’s why they have to be ahead, so nobody can distract them. They have to stare at a blank wall or at the back of a man [while praying in the mosque] which is hopefully not attractive [laughter].”

Khalilah said, “We can look at men, and be like he is really fine. But you are not... but, men... No offense. You have two heads, you can’t function with both heads going on. Blood goes to one or the other.”

Aisha responds, when asked about the difference between men’s and women’s self-control during prayer time, “A man’s behind raised up in the air doesn’t arouse me. What can a woman do with a guy’s behind?” [Aisha’s husband interjects] “If it’s cute, it must turn you on.” Aisha responds: “Yes, it turns me on, but I don’t want to do anything with it.” So, even though the stimulus causes a reaction, there is no impetus to take any action. Similarly, Nissa says that men are easily distracted by women’s presence, yet she is able to maintain her composure due to the importance of prayer.

Fatma (age 24) echoes Aisha’s sentiments about men being separated from women in the prayer room:

I mean honestly I...and again my belief that God put that there for a reason that men are inherently weaker, that they will check out a woman even if we’re fully covered. They are going to try and imagine what’s in there okay so that’s going to happen that’s just their um weakness honestly I mean. But I honestly don’t like to give them too much like an out. It’s their responsibility like it doesn’t excuse it. It’s their responsibility to lower their gaze to not look at you that’s not my problem that you’re too weak and you’re looking at me.

References were also made to Allah, creating women to be stronger than men, thus, women’s ability to control their sex drives.

Nada: Why do we have to sit behind the men when they pray? I would tell that person just to sit down in a public area…and have a girl walk by and what guy will not look at her? And women have that maturity and we’re not always trying to get some. But men, internally, God has made them weaker. Guys are a little more weak compared to a woman. When we pray our attention is supposed to be only to God, it’s easier for us to looking forward at men with their butts in the air.

Most interestingly, Nedira connects this greater capacity for restraint to women’s greater intellectual capabilities when she says, “…I think women operate from emotions rather than from visual stimulant so women have more cognitive ability to take all of the inputs and then respond to them and men are more visceral if you would, in their response.”

As previously discussed, men’s presumed overwhelming (hetero)sexual urges have typically been associated with masculinity. That is, expressing these urges (i.e., catcalling, leering at women) has served to construct masculinity in that it reinforces men’s dominance [45]. It does so socially but also literally through the male body, as “true masculinity is always thought to proceed from men’s bodies” [46] (p. 45). Men’s bodies are presumed to be superior in terms of sports and physical labor [47], as well as on a cellular [48] and even genital level [49]. In the current research, women’s narratives reflect the fact that they view male sexual urges as deconstructing masculinity. Men who have a stronger sexual drive than women are viewed as weak in a stereotypical “feminized” way, both emotionally, physiologically, and intellectually. Indeed, women’s greater capacity to control their urges is attributed to biological and even religious superiority. Thus, the gender dichotomy has been reconstructed in an innovative way that is empowering, rather than marginalizing, for women.

3.3. Ladies First: Women’s Sexual Pleasure

Orgasm is a particularly interesting topic in terms of the gender hierarchy as it is something that is a relatively new discussion in the academic literature. Harris et al.’s [29] research was most elucidating regarding the nexus between gender roles and orgasms. They find that “stereotypes and world views about gender and how women should be treated by men…might help shape and constrain women’s orgasm frequency” (p. 1923). In their research, Harris et al. find that women who posit men’s sexual needs as more important than theirs (because they internalize gender stereotypes) were less likely to ask a partner to satisfy their sexual needs, which leads to a lower prevalence of orgasm.

Further, although it has been assumed that sexual desire and testosterone levels are connected for men (hence the assumption that men have higher sex drives than women), results have been based on “pre-theory” or gendered assumptions about masculinity [30]. Van Anders’ research revealed that the connection is far more nuanced than previously thought. Women’s testosterone levels do not increase when thinking of dyadic sex (with a male partner) because of the statistically low likelihood of them achieving orgasm through this route. Rather, women are more likely to exhibit heightened testosterone rates when asked to think of solitary sex, as they know orgasm will be a more likely outcome. Van Anders attributes this to the fact that women’s role in a dyadic sexual encounter is to give, rather than receive, pleasure. As high sexual desire has been gendered masculine, it is transgressive for a woman to express the need to receive pleasure.

Given the fact respondents believe they are equal to men, it should not be entirely surprising that they also felt that women should always experience orgasm while having sex with their husbands. What was surprising was that many felt that they should experience orgasm before their male partners (parenthetically, all of the men we interviewed agreed with this point). When asked if a Muslim man is supposed to please his wife before he is sexually satisfied, Khalilah claims that “a man should make his wife orgasm in the bedroom…It is a man’s duty to make his wife orgasm. It is a man’s duty to give his wife pleasure before he himself receives pleasure.” She cites Book 29, Hadith 100, which states:

“Yahya related to me from Malik from Humayd ibn Qays al-Makki that a man called Dhafif said that Ibn Abbas was asked about coitus interruptus. He called a slave-girl of his and said, ‘Tell them.’ She was embarrassed. He said, ‘It is alright, and I do it myself.’ Malik said, ‘A man does not practise coitus interruptus with a free woman unless she gives her permission. There is no harm in practising coitus interruptus with a slave-girl without her permission. Someone who has someone else’s slave-girl as a wife, does not practise coitus interruptus with her unless her people give him permission’”.

[quoted directly from respondent]

Khalilah interprets this Hadith as indicating that “A man should not interrupt sexual relations until she is fulfilled. Until she gives her permission. A woman should be fulfilled first because you don’t know how long a man is going to last.” Aisha also refers to a religious imperative to please women sexually when she says that:

Because you want to procreate, the relationship between a man and a woman is halal. It is not mandated, but sanctioned in God’s eyes. And nowhere does it say it’s for a man. It’s for both. The prayer is for both [the prayer men and women recite before sexual intercourse (The prayer that both men and women recite prior to intercourse is “Bismillahi, Allahumma jannibnaa ash-shaitaan, wa jannib ash-shaitaan maa razaqtanna”, which translates as In the Name of Allah. O Allah, keep the shaytaan [the Devil] away from us and keep the shaytaan away from what You have blessed us with.)]. If you don’t pleasure them [women], then you’re not treating them right.

The Islamic requirement that a woman is sexually satisfied was also referred to by Farah, who recounts a portion of the Hadith where a man’s inability to please his wife was attributed to the size of his genitalia:

Farah: Like one of my favorite things to talk about is when…I know this is kinda of a mean story [in a Hadith], um there’s a lady that went to the Prophet (“The Prophet” is always a reference to Prophet Muhammad.) and she said…she told him ‘Ya know, I’m unsatisfied,’ but she didn’t say what was going on and he was just like, like kinda like, ‘Okay, what’s that supposed to mean?’ And she says ‘um, I’m unsatisfied and my husband is like the fringe on a rug’ and he was like, ‘Oh, do you want to continue your marriage?’ And she was like, ‘No, I don’t.’ ‘He was like, oh, your husband is small, you want to get a divorce? That’s cool.’

Indeed, one respondent (Mahira, age 27) alluded to desiring an “acceptable” penis size from her husband when asked if it was liberating for Muslim women that husbands may not see them naked—or without modest clothing—prior to marriage (as opposed to the focus on body imagine for non-Muslims):

I guess that just wasn’t my experience so I don’t know if I can like speak to that too much because my husband and I were like intimate before we got married which like, isn’t the norm, and it’s the same thing. If he wasn’t up to par on that either, then would I have been with him? I don’t know. Probably not…I mean you can’t see what a guy is packing so why, ya know, …

Like Farah, Aala discusses the importance of a wife’s physical attraction to her husband via a Hadith:

If they [non-Muslims] understand Islam, how much it has protected and given the freedom to choose [to women]. It tells the husband he has to be a provider, protector, and a pleaser too…one of the things that’s in the Hadith is one woman, she just didn’t like the look of her husband. He was good, but she just didn’t like his look [laughter]. So she came and told the Prophet… ‘you know, I didn’t like, I want to get divorced from my husband. He said: ‘What’s wrong with you?’ [She replied]: ‘Nothing, I just don’t like his look.’ She was granted the divorce.

Although Nisa could not place the particular Hadith that addressed this topic, she believed it did exist:

Nisa: Yea the Hadith has it on there. It’s on there to do you’re just…and that’s one of the things that um…it does say that

Interviewer: Sexually satisfy a woman before themselves?

Nisa: Mmhmm. I think one of the great things... I mean sex, it’s part of the religion to me.

Other respondents were not able to point to a particular Islamic text to explain the precedence of women’s sexual fulfillment, but they nonetheless underscored its importance:

Laela: I don’t know if I’ve heard that but it’s important. There might be in hadith though I don’t know…but why not? You know so he is supposed to please his wife so why not.

Lisha: I mean it would make sense…I mean who is going to give more when they have already been taking care of?

Raidah says, “I mean I’m sure a majority of the male population needs to hear that but I don’t think I’ve ever heard that” and Faiza asserts, “Well, it is important in a husband and wife relationship that they both be satisfied. Yeah. It’s not about just his wants, it’s about my wants to and my needs and that’s how we remain faithful to each other. Uh, you gotta give some to get some [laughter].”

The consistent thread throughout these narratives is that women’s sexual pleasure is centered during intimate contact with men. Although there is scant mention of this topic in scholarly literature, a cursory glance at non-academic Islamic literature provides insight into the importance of women’s pleasure before and during sexual intercourse. As an example, a publication from the Islamic Education Board of the World Federation of KSIMC, Merali [50] cites The Prophet as saying: “Do not engage in sexual intercourse with your wife like hens; rather, firstly engage in foreplay with your wife and flirt with her and then make love to her.” And: “All play and games are futile except for three: Horse riding, archery and foreplay with your wife, and these three are correct” (p. 14). The publication proceeds to delineate methods of foreplay, each one focusing solely on the pleasure of the wife.

The focus on women’s sexual pleasure does not appear to be restricted to my respondents. Muslim women respondents in Hawkey’s [51] research who had recently migrated from Afghanistan, Iraq, Somalia, and Sudan to Australia largely centered reciprocal sexual pleasure in their relationships with their husbands. In fact, similar to my respondents, Hawkey indicates that “Islam, was also utilized to reinforce women’s right to experience sexual pleasure, to demand acknowledgment of their sexual agency and to promote reciprocity in sexual relationships” (p. 20). For instance, Hawkey’s respondents said things like, “you must enjoy sex. It says in the Koran”, “Islam says that it has to be initiated and consensual between man and women...so that they can both enjoy”, “that they could tell their partner what they enjoy sexually ‘all the time’”, “and that women ‘are allowed to have pleasure’” (p. 16).

4. Discussion

Previous research has shown that heterosexual desire is a site where gender norms are (re)iterated, permitting repression of women’s sexual desire to be viewed as normative. In order to interrupt this gendered practice, our gender constructs must be reconfigured to permit women’s autonomy and equality in larger social contexts. These narratives made clear that, although the women I interviewed strongly believe in a gender dichotomy, this dichotomy does not intimate sex or gender asymmetry in their eyes. This break from Western discursive practices of gender seems to be attributable to what the respondents connect with the message, as they see it, of Islamic teachings.

Many of the respondents made reference to their perception of how Islam empowers women by giving them the right to inheritance and education, choosing whom to marry, working outside of the home, and keeping the money they earn. Many also made reference to Prophet Muhammad, who married his employer, a woman fifteen years his senior who proposed to him. That is, the lack of gender asymmetry in what the respondents believed came from religious teachings deconstructed the traditional sexual script, leading to assumptions of women’s equal desire for—and access to—sexual pleasure.

As discussed by Meldrum et al. [52], previous research (e.g., [53]) indicates that once younger generations of Muslims become enculturated in the West, their sexual views can undergo changes, which differentiates them from previous generations. In addition, Meldrum cites Dialmy [54], who “argues that many Muslim women, who are born or grow up in the West, do not feel the need, or want, to hide their sexuality” (p. 176). However, it is important to note that although enculturation can shift sexual norms, scholars have claimed that Islam itself promotes women’s sexual pleasure. For instance, Imam [55] asserts that Prophet Mohammad promoted the importance of the sexual satisfaction of both wives and husbands. According to Ilkkaracan [56], “Some Qur’anic verses, especially the story of Zuleikha and Yusuf, have laid the foundation for interpretations of women as capable of greater sexual desire and temptation then men…” (p. 757).

Muslims, like Christians, have many different cultures that shape their sexual behaviors. That is, as previously discussed, Muslims are not a monolith. Hawkey et al. [51] point to the fact that previous researchers have underscored this intersectionality when addressing sexual norms for Muslim migrant and refugee women. Research that focused on the perspective of Iranian, Somali, and Assyrian migrant Muslim women has yielded quite disparate sexual views dependent on nationality and how long ago they immigrated to the Western world. Despite this, both Somali [57] and Iranian [58] immigrant Muslim women felt they had the right to seek sexual satisfaction from their husbands. However, as discussed above, even the recent Muslim women immigrants from Muslim-majority countries in Hawkey’s research centered on reciprocal sexual pleasure in their relationships with their husbands. In order to recognize these women’s perspectives—and their multiplicity of identities that provide nuanced embodied experiences—it is imperative that the White gaze be dismantled.

This inversion of the TSS as it pertains to non-Muslims in the US has been the focus of gender and sexuality research for some time. For instance, Albanesi [59] found that “one’s personal sense of gender is often formed, at least in part, as a reaction to the gender roles (or rebellion against the gender rules) these young men and women are exposed to in their own family” (emphasis mine). Indeed, ongoing research has shown a trend toward women circumventing the TSS by being more sexually initiative with male partners (e.g., [60,61,62,63,64]) which reflects a shift in gender roles that anchor the gender dichotomy.

5. Conclusions

Although, due to the small sample size, the results of this research cannot be generalized to all Muslim women in the US, it is important to note that these alternative discourses from Muslim women’s perspectives not only create a space for, but center women’s sexual pleasure. Discourses about Islam not only encourage adults to express their sexuality but also allow women to explore their sexual pleasure [9]. Findings suggest that new gender strategies are contingent upon a larger social context in which there are alternative discourses of gender that position women as men’s equals. Excavating these gender discourses is only possible when women’s voices are centered, as their social location gives us glimpses into groups that have been marginalized. The nuances of different belief systems may never be understood through a hegemonically White, Western, Judeo-Christian lens. Perhaps we need to continue to ask ourselves if Muslim women really need saving after all [7].