Sadly, Lila is not alone. Since 9/11, domestic violence has been on the rise in the American Muslim community, according to social-service agencies nationwide. The weak economy, an insulated culture and intense scrutiny from law enforcement and locals alike have created a powder keg that’s all the more frightening because there are so few resources to deal with the problem; only three shelters in the United States cater specifically to Muslim culture. And, with the authorities threatening arrest and deportation for suspicious foreign nationals, Muslim women are even more hesitant to report abuse than usual, according to Nora Alarifi Pharaon, a psychologist at the Brooklyn, N.Y.-based Arab-American Family Support Center.
Even before 9/11, Pharaon says, most abuse in Muslim communities went un-reported. This is a patriarchal culture, she says, that puts a premium on the family unit; the notion of counseling for marital problems is a rarity throughout much of the Muslim world. Lila’s husband controlled her money, her apartment–even her mailbox key. Lila says that would have been fine had her husband “respected” her. “This is how I was raised,” Lila says. “I was the wife, and I knew what my duties were.” Even after he turned abusive, she tried to win his approval. She took a job when he was demoted from his position at a major airline, scrubbed the apartment tirelessly and planned roman- tic dinners. But the violence didn’t stop. Still, her family back home encouraged her to try harder.
The idea of seeking help at a shelter is a foreign one. Islam has a long history of associating runaway women with immorality, says Sharifa Alkhateeb, president of the North American Council for Muslim Women. Shame and the difficulty of adhering to religious customs in a shelter means many women eventually return to the socially appropriate, albeit abusive, place beside their husbands. Women who leave shelters rarely seek further help, Pharaon says, and that’s usually not because their husbands change their ways.
It’s not just Islamic culture that can dismiss domestic violence. Very religious strains of Judaism and Christianity sometimes make it difficult for women to escape abusive relationships, says Alkhateeb. Batterers also can misinterpret religious texts to justify abuse. “Women with more conservative religious beliefs tend to stay in relationships longer, to work it out, even if it’s to their detriment,” says Linda Osmundson, executive director of Community Action Stops Abuse. Recently, religious leaders have been making efforts to combat the problem, she says. “But our shelters are still full.”
Lila finally stopped making excuses for her husband when he tried to evict her from their apartment. “I felt like a small, small ant crawling,” she says. Now, living on her own and applying for citizenship (and a divorce), Lila walks taller. But in a community that traditionally speaks in hushed tones about domestic abuse–if it says anything at all–too many women have yet to find a voice.
