Muslim Womanhood between the Lines: Reading the Kitab al-Mar’ah ila Ahlihā
November, 2023
Ronit Ricci
My textual case study in this blogpost is the Kitāb al-Mar’ah ila Ahlihā (“Book of Women’s [Duties] towards their Husbands”) from a manuscript titled “A Collection of Prayers and Islamic Jurisprudence” in the Muhammad Hilman collection from Cirebon (EAP 211/1/4/37). The Kitab, written in Arabic and containing a dense Javanese interlinear translation between its lines, is neither dated nor does it mention an author, scribe or place.
The Kitab is based on the sayings of the Prophet Muhammad but also cites Ali and several Companions, as well as women who were closely related to Muhammad including Fatima, Aisha, and Umm Salama. It is composed, for the most part, of advice for women given by men.
The Kitab is in many ways a “typical” interlinear translation from Arabic into Javanese: the Arabic text is written in larger and bolder script when compared to the writing in Javanese; there is often a significant difference in the number of words used to say “the same thing” in the two languages, with Arabic being more economical than Javanese, the latter often using double or more the number of Arabic words; the translator of the Kitab employed the commonly-used grammatical markers that indicate, for instance, the subject and predicate of each nominal Arabic sentence. In these ways and others the manuscript is, one might say, conventional.
Figure 1. Opening page of the Kitab al-Mar’ah ila Ahlihā from Cirebon, EAP 211/1/4/37
https://eap.bl.uk/archive-file/EAP211-1-4-37
But how typical were texts for and about women written in the form of interlinear translations? What was the place of women within the system of studying such texts? What were they taught, threatened with and promised? These are questions worth exploring further. Here I offer a preliminary and brief engagement with one such text.
After its opening sentence the Kitab moves on to the formulaic “thus spoke the Prophet SAW,” with Muhammad speaking to his daughter Fatima but in fact turning to all women, reminding them of the duty to be devoted to God, His Messenger and their husbands. The Kitab then continues with a series of prohibitions on women: they should not be sinful towards their husbands, neither speak with anger nor make the husband sick at heart – all these behaviors being the distinguishing signs (A. ‘alāmah; J. tĕtĕngĕr) of a wicked woman. The opposite characteristics are also enumerated. For example, the Prophet highlights God’s love for devoted and obedient wives who will gain all the fruit, clothes and palaces of paradise.
The Kitab concludes with a tradition attributed to the Prophet’s wife Aishah about how a woman carrying her husband’s child will receive the rewards of one who fasts, prays day and night or fights a holy war. It is noteworthy that this text about and for women ends with a carrot, not a stick. We may also consider that it ends with mention of holy war: perhaps women’s lives are an ongoing holy war or holy struggle of sorts to live correctly, constantly facing the temptations and challenges that the authors of such texts expected them to overcome.
In considering the Kitab’s interlinear translation I will here highlight briefly a single aspect: voice.
Voices in the Kitab
On the surface the Kitab can be read as a long series of “dos” and “don’ts” addressed to women. Total dedication to one’s husband is portrayed as a religious obligation and an indication of faith in God and the Prophet. A closer look reveals that although this is indeed the general framework, and although the dominant figure whose words are cited is Muhammad, there is a variety of voices speaking throughout the Kitab’s pages. Whose voices are they and how were they mediated through translation? Here are two examples.
After Muhammad states that women who obey their husbands will be welcome in paradise, paradise itself speaks, asking (Arabic followed by the Javanese translation that appears in between the lines):
Faqāla aljannatu ayna ḥabībī wa ayna dākhilī
Maka matur sawarga pundi ka2sih amba lan pundi kang amanjing ing amba
Paradise spoke: where is my beloved and where is the one to enter me?
The Javanese translation expresses a hierarchy not present in any form in the Arabic. Paradise is speaking to God using the verb matur (to speak) and referring to itself with the humble first person pronoun amba (“I,” literally slave, servant). As a site, paradise bears no title. When God responds His speech is depicted as follows:
Faqāla Allah ta‘āla
Maka nagandika gusti Allah ta‘āla
For God, the verb ngandika (“speak” in a high register of Javanese) rather than matur is employed and He receives the royal Javanese title gusti. In this example the same verb for speech is employed in Arabic (qāl) for paradise and for God. Javanese, with its hierarchical structure and emphasis on honorifics, conveys nuance that emphasizes the difference between the two speakers through the verb, a self-deprecating pronoun and the addition of a title (Ricci 2023). The voice of paradise in Javanese is speaking from a lower status, conveying humility and deference.
Hell’s voice too is heard through direct speech in the Kitab, cited by Muhammad:
Alnnāru jahannama nādin min makānin ba‘īdin
Naraka jahanam iku angundang2 saking anggon kang adoh
Hell beckons from a place far away
Ta‘ālū yā nisā’ al‘āṣiyati
Padha mareneha sira wadon hai sakehe wadon kang padha duraka ing lakine
Come O rebellious women
Wa ana juw‘un wa ‘aṭshun
Lan isun iku luwe lan dahga isun
As I am hungry and thirsty
Here is found another characteristic of Javanese interlinear translation: expansion. Various elements that are “built-in” to Arabic verbs or nouns, for example the plural form, need clarification in Javanese (e.g. ta‘ālu - “come!” - is translated as padha marenehe). The Arabic ‘āṣiyati, “disobedient, rebellious” in the feminine form is translated by wadon kang padha duraka ing lakine, highlighting that the women mentioned are rebellious in a specific realm – towards their husbands. This suggests that Javanese women reading the Kitab or listening to it being read and translated had access to a set of clarifications that didn’t leave much room for speculation or misunderstanding.
Additional voices speak out in the Kitab. The interlinear translation helps us assess how, through particular translation strategies, the translator understood these voices, differentiated among them and characterized them. Furthermore, the Kitab offers us a chance to consider, on a small scale, the gendered dimensions of Islamic interlinear manuscripts. Considering the centrality of the stories and messages offered in such didactic texts, and of the pedagogical settings in which they were read, the gendered aspects of interlinear translations are worthy of further research.
References:
https://eap.bl.uk/archive-file/EAP211-1-4-37