Gender is not an illusion to be discarded but a reality woven into the very fabric of creation, shaping who we are as individuals, as communities, and as builders of civilization. The modern age, however, has uprooted our inherited understanding of this defining feature of the self. Contemporary gender theorists, chief among them Professor Judith Butler, have not so much refuted traditional conceptions of gender as they have simply ignored them. To secure influence, such theorists misrepresent the meaning of biological sex, reduce gender to a narrow set of behaviors, and neglect the vast intellectual terrain that traditional thought concerning gender once occupied. In doing so they vulgarize science and pass over the philosophical and spiritual dimensions of the question. Against this tendency, the Muslim intellectual tradition holds that thinking about gender extended far beyond the body and its functions, roles, dress, and demeanor, reaching outward to map meaning onto the entirety of the cosmos.
By tradition is meant a body of ideas cultivated over a long span of time and repeatedly returned to for the wisdom it continues to yield. Professor Sachiko Murata, in her landmark study The Tao of Islam: A Sourcebook on Gender Relationships in Islamic Thought, argues that gender was a defining feature of Muslim cosmological and Sufi reflection, in which religious cosmology explains the origins, history, and destiny of the world on religious terms, and the Sufi tradition concerns itself with the higher ideals and spiritual depths of Islam. Likewise, Professor Abdal Hakim Murad, in his essay "Islam, Irigaray, and the Retrieval of Gender," maintains that Islam offers an affirming narrative in which gender is constitutive of what makes a human being spiritually whole and vibrantly connected to the universe.
For all that Western culture debates gender and rights, it possesses no coherent message about gender; indeed gender is among the most fragmented of the concepts that shape our society. Part of the reason is that many who speak on the matter do so without expertise. The biologist, the historian, the philosopher, the sociologist, and the religious scholar each have something to contribute, yet only from within their own disciplines. The difficulty of our age is that people rarely remain within their competence, and some venture far beyond it to make sweeping claims, rather than treading into other domains with intellectual humility.
Judith Butler, in "Performative Acts and Gender Constitution: An Essay in Phenomenology and Feminist Theory," argues that gender is a social construct, falsely correlated with biological sex, perpetuated across generations through certain modes of dress and behavior, and ultimately serving the patriarchal end of reproduction. She writes that "gender is instituted through the stylization of the body and, hence, must be understood as the mundane way in which bodily gestures, movements, and enactments of various kinds constitute the illusion of an abiding gendered self." In her view gender has no reality, no quiddity, and biological sex is "distinct from the process by which the body comes to bear cultural meanings." She does not deny biological sex, for to do so would render her work absurd; yet she affirms it only just enough to appear credible, stopping short of granting it its full scientific weight, and making reductionist claims about it so as to sever it from any implication for how persons express themselves. This position is one to be critiqued, not endorsed.
The very phrase "men and women" now falls under scrutiny as dangerously exclusionary. It suggests a natural pairing and implies that these are the two principal categories that make up a system. Theorists such as Butler would call this pairing antiquated. Yet rarely today do we speak of "men and women" as an idea, though for much of history, across varied cultures, this was precisely the realm in which the subject dwelt. We have lost a sense of how broad the concept is, narrowing our gaze to biology and lived experience alone. Religion is blamed for perpetuating oppressive distinctions, yet religious cosmology seeks to explain the structure of the universe through a wealth of symbols, of which gender is central, while insisting that the symbol never be equated with the thing symbolized, the latter being always greater in scope than the former, though the former is more tangible.
It must be granted that theorists like Butler have advanced their conclusions partly because some of our expressions of gender are genuinely flimsy. The more it is insisted that girls must wear pink and only boys may play with toy trucks, the more plausible Butler's argument appears; the more American culture exploits idealized images of the male and female body, the more her thesis that gender rests on social performance gains ground. Her critique of the ways we "perform" gender in public is not baseless, for modern dress crudely overemphasizes the distinct aspects of the male and female form. Yet the Muslim cosmologists cared little for these very excesses. Islam desexualizes the body in public settings and thereby discourages profiteering over it, women's bodies in particular. The Muslim cosmologist engages the Qur'anic principle that Allah "created everything in pairs in order that you reflect" (Qur'an 51:49), and so must concede the pairing of men and women; yet because the verse commands reflection, the believer is compelled to dig beneath superficial difference. The language of pairs is not the language of binaries: the former holds together difference and sameness, while the latter emphasizes only difference. As the biologist Dr. Heather Heying observes, members of a gender category "are simultaneously of a type, and distinct within that type," which accords with the biological insight that men and women are bimodal rather than binary.
Stories and symbols guard a culture's values and sources of meaning. The narratives we hold about ourselves and our world form the structural support of our lives, and our beliefs about gender therefore shape our very understanding of what it means to be human. The story of the creation of Adam and Eve, retold in numerous ways throughout the Qur'an, teaches that we have an origin, and thus a story to reflect upon in discerning our essence and purpose. Murata writes that "most cosmologists have been concerned with demonstrating the analogies among all levels of existence in order to show that human beings play a unique role in the universe as God's representatives or vicegerents (khalifa)," a role that "in turn demands human responsibility." Without the story of Adam we would not know we have been charged with khilafa, nor grasp why we are fitted to bear it.
Two features annex humanity to God in its relationship to creation. First, human beings alone possess the freedom to think and act, and therefore alone can introduce evil; as Murata notes, "evil appears when people break the balance… Evil has no other entry into the world since only human beings have the freedom to choose it." Second, human beings "manifest the whole," each a small cosmos reflecting the attributes of the greater one. This rests upon the words of Allah, "We will show them our signs in the horizons and within themselves until it becomes clear to them that it is the truth" (Qur'an 41:53), and the hadith, "Allah created Adam in His image." The Qur'an names things ayat, signs, hundreds of times, calling us to perceive things "not so much for what they are in themselves but for what they tell us of something beyond themselves," until the multitude of signs delivers us to tawhid, wholeness.
From the origin story we likewise learn the meaning of gender. Adam stands as both the archetypal human and the archetypal man, for maleness is comprehended only with femaleness as its complement; before the creation of Hawa, Adam is more properly human than male. The narrative moves from oneness, to duality, to multiplicity: "O mankind, have taqwa of Allah who created you from one soul and created from it its mate, and spread from it countless men and women" (Qur'an 4:1), and again, "O humankind, indeed We have created you from male and female and made you peoples and tribes that you may know one another. Indeed, the most noble of you in the sight of Allah is the most righteous of you" (Qur'an 49:13). Unlike other creatures, Adam and Hawa were created from a single nafs, and unlike them, human beings are conscious of their origin.
God is not gendered, yet as Murad observes, "the phenomenal God is manifested in not one but two genders." By the phenomenal God he means our perception of what God chooses to manifest, distinct from the noumenal God, His ipseity as He is in Himself. The Divine Names furnish an example, divided into Names of Majesty, associated with the masculine pole, and Names of Beauty, associated with the feminine—yet not as rigid opposites, for God suffers no internal contradiction. Each category contains many Names, with variance and overlap within. Thus even Prophet Ibrahim warns of "a punishment from the All-Merciful" (Qur'an 19:45). Since God "created everything in pairs" (Qur'an 51:49), we are affirmed in our genders and connected through them to all creation and to the dynamic pairing of the Names. Murad concludes that "the retrieval of theomorphism is the retrieval of gender, fully understood," where theomorphism, unlike its Christian sense, means that humans bear a small sample of God's qualities and are called to adopt God-like care, forethought, and forgiveness.
Where the modern theorist holds that freedom lies in casting off masculine and feminine for androgyny, Murad answers that our full humanity requires no such rejection. God is not androgynous, so the notion that ultimate divine-like freedom demands androgyny rests upon a flawed theology. Differences are means by which to reflect upon God, not obstacles; our genders, like our bodies, are vehicles toward ibadah and khilafa. Modernity, seeing that we are not identical, reads meaninglessness into difference, sometimes even feigning blindness to another's identity out of an inability to perceive without reductive stereotype. What Islam recovers for our age is a reaffirmation of embodiment, a resurgence of feminine symbolism, and an invitation to see the form and perceive beyond it.
There is a deep irony in Butler's project, which works from a feminist framework yet erases gender, femaleness included, in pursuit of a feminist end, asking women to surrender their gender identity to be treated as fully human. This asks the beleaguered group to sacrifice while the empowered group gains nothing from doing likewise, and offers no clear benefit when the surrounding world remains unchanged. To imagine that we may remake ourselves in the image of our choosing is an atheistic outlook, casting us as gods in full control, when in truth the gulf between the human and the Divine is immeasurable. The gravest error of a steward is to forget that he is a placeholder for the king, not the king himself. The Muslim cosmologists would insist that gender is inextricable from humanity and enriches selfhood, and that for the believer walking toward God, expressing the positive aspects of one's gender is a help and not a hindrance, while observing the pairings of the world grants deeper vision rather than a distorted one.
The subject far exceeds what can be treated here. While it is true that some modes of acting and dressing vary across cultures, this is no refutation of gender in its totality, for gender is biologically and culturally determined as well as spiritually significant. Reductionist claims set up a straw man easily toppled, yet in the imagination of Muslim thinkers gender has meant far more as an ontological and cosmological reality than the petty differences seized upon by theorists. The sapiential and Sufi traditions took seriously God's teaching that He created all things in pairs and made of it a lens to clarify what would otherwise remain nebulous, thereby affirming and celebrating human fullness with regard for the body rather than disregard of it.