Every campaign that calls for social change is hoping to be
noticed, particularly by media and celebrities. That’s how to start a chain
reaction: the campaign gets noticed, attracts attention and new followers,
grows, attracts more attention, grows even more, and so on. Every successful crusade
that has started from the ground up, including womens suffrage and GetUp’s portfolio
of campaigns, has operated in basically the same way.
#WISH is getting noticed.
#WISH is a small Australian movement in which non-Muslim
women, including some celebrities, take photos of themselves wearing a headscarf
as a makeshift hijab, and post the photos on social media. The campaign takes
its name from the acronym “Women In Solidarity (with) Hijabis”, and was started
by Australian-Muslim lawyer and activist Mariam Veiszadeh. Some men have joined
the campaign, posting photos of themselves holding signs expressing their support
for the crusade.
#WISH is just one of several actions taking by Muslims and
non-Muslims together, to distinguish “everyday” Muslims in our communities from
the Islamic extremism ripping apart the Middle East. Another high profile
campaign being played out on social media is “Not in my name”, a campaign that
started in the UK as an opportunity to give young Muslims a chance to denounce
the actions of Islamic State.
Dr Lauren Rosewarne is a senior lecturer in the School of
Social and Political Sciences at the University of Melbourne. Dr Rosewarne has dismissed the #WISH campaign as being more about fashion than religious
freedom, and on a par with tabloid television fat-suit stunts.
There's a reason why involvement
in social media campaigns such as #WISH are so frequently downplayed as
slacktivism. Invariably they are examples of the laziest form of political…
<cough>… participation imaginable. Incorporating a headscarf into our
daily social media lifestyles isn't consciousness raising; rather, it is
attention seeking and it is about a privileged delusion that non-Muslims can
dress-up, partake of and then somehow protest discrimination. All using the
mystical power of the selfie.
This is not how social change
happens.
Social change would be nice, of course, but perhaps one of the objectives of #WISH is more modest than that, and perhaps it has met that objective by bringing a feeling of comfort and community to others. Isn't that successful social activism?
Dr Rosewarne seems to believe that social activism requires
more than a selfie on social media, and perhaps she’s right – or perhaps she’s
simply an activist snob who believes that her personal choice in style and mode
of political action, if she has one, is somehow superior. She also assumes that
#WISH participants are all white Non-Muslims who are involved in no political
activity beyond posting selfies supporting the cause of the day.
Sadly, Dr Rosewarne has missed the larger point of #WISH. It is not
about illuminating discrimination at all; we all know that there is a heartbreaking
anti-Muslim sentiment throughout the Western world, and particularly now. Senior
figures in our own government are squabbling over a burqa ban, proposed by two
of the most conservative figures ever elected in this country, assisted by one shiny
new Senator who wears her ignorance as a badge of honour.
As Muslim-Australians become targets for abuse on our suburban
streets, #WISH lets Muslim women know that not all of us are filled with fear
and hatred, that we are proud to take this small act, to give them
hope. The hijab is a religious symbol for the Muslim women who choose to wear
it. Similarly, it is a symbol of solidarity for the non-Muslim women who have chosen to join
this campaign.
Last week, a white male friend mentioned that he had been
out during the day with a colleague who was not white. The darker man attracted
anti-Muslim insults launched from the other side of the street by passing bogans. The only reason
for the verbal filth directed at him was the colour of his skin.
I’m not white either, and as I read my friend’s tweet, I
felt sick. We were heading out shopping at the time and I was, for the first
time in decades, uncomfortable in my skin. Nervous. As a young child, I attracted more
attention for my colour than I care to remember. My father is Muslim and dark;
my mother is white and was raised Presbyterian. These days she is not religious
and nor am I, but here is our #WISH photo.
Today I wear my version of the hijab to express my mixed race, and to add my voice to those who have already joined the #WISH campaign. Islam is part of my community; it’s part of my existence. Showing support for women who are Muslim is not fashion, Dr Rosewarne, nor is it even remotely the same as wearing a fat suit for television ratings.
Today I wear my version of the hijab to express my mixed race, and to add my voice to those who have already joined the #WISH campaign. Islam is part of my community; it’s part of my existence. Showing support for women who are Muslim is not fashion, Dr Rosewarne, nor is it even remotely the same as wearing a fat suit for television ratings.
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