The Muslim Brotherhood and women’s issues under Sadat: dogmas and discussions

Since its early days, the Egyptian Muslim Brotherhood (MB) recognized women as central figures (Baron, 2005:209–211). Their role was seen as essential in the Islamic reformation, which, according to the movement’s founder and first General Guide Hasan al-Banna, began in the family context (Mitchell, 1993:175). Among other things, women were viewed as the equals of men, but with different responsibilities (Mitchell, 1993:255–257), encouraged to revert to veiling, and return to authentic Islam, which had to be purged from corrupt Western influences (Bier, 2011:42). Under Gamal Abdel Nasser, state feminism emerged and women began to enter public life more (Bier, 2011:43), which continued under Anwar Sadat. Although the position of women in Egyptian society had changed since the MB’s establishment in 1928, the movement seemingly expressed views in its writings in the 1970s that resembled al-Banna’s point of view. In its main mouthpiece, al-Daꜥwa (1976–1981), it was, for example, argued that women hold an important role as the family’s caretaker (AD 52: 36) and equality was viewed as “injustice for women” (al-musāwāh ẓulm li’l-mar’a) (AD 59: 34). Women should, moreover, abide by the clear rules about women’s clothing that are formulated in Islam (AD 31: 44), and Western society is said to promote values that “assault the dignity” (i‘tidā’ ‘alā karāmatihā) of women “under the banner of women’s gains” (taḥta lāfitat makāsib al-mar’a) (AD 60: 34).

At the same time, the movement had changed significantly since the time of its establishment until the Sadat years. Under Nasser, the MB was banned and suppressed and it made a comeback under Sadat (al-Arian, 2014; Santing, 2020; Willi, 2021). As the movement regained prominence, it changed its outlook on society. Umar al-Tilmisani, the General Guide since 1972, for instance, changed the movement’s position on revolutionary violence against the Egyptian authorities and he was in favor of a more political course (Ashour, 2009; Baker, 1991; Willi, 2021).

This raises the question why the MB was cautious in its revision of its view on women under Sadat when it was, at the same time, changing the way it dealt with politics and the issue of revolutionary violence. To answer this question this paper focuses, from a socio-historical perspective, on the MB’s view of women under Sadat (1970–1981), drawing largely from three journals it published, or had affiliations with during these years: al-Da‘wa (AD), al-Mukhtar al-Islami (AMAI), and al-I‘tisam (AI) (El Guindi, 1981; Makram-Ebeid, 1989; Rock-Singer, 2016). The paper starts with a theoretical framework in order to contextualize and define the MB’s position on women, as expressed in its writings, focusing on different forms of (Islamic) feminism and, more generally, how women’s issues can be utilized by political actors and religious groups for their own legitimacy and political expediency. Subsequently, the movement’s view on women is discussed in the years before Sadat’s presidency (1928–1970), followed by the position of women under Sadat, including the amendments to the constitution and the Personal Status Law that affected women’s legal status. Next, the MB’s return is discussed, focusing on its internal changes and the challenges it faced. An analysis of how the MB viewed women’s issues in its writings is provided in the subsequent section, followed by the analysis and conclusions.

To contextualize and define the MB’s stance on women, it is essential to have a closer look at Islamic (forms of) feminism. First, even though the first waves of feminism were liberal in the Middle East, this does not mean that it was a secular phenomenon, as most women engaged were Muslim (Roded, 2012:214). Religion was, from the very beginning, integral to Muslim women’s feminisms, whether they were called secular or Islamic (Badran, 2009:2). Therefore, Tohidi prefers the term “Muslim feminism” over Islamic feminism (2003: 138).

It is widely acknowledged that, after the liberal 1960s, a global religious upsurge began in the 1970s, including the rise of new religious movements (Anthony & Robbins, 1990; Goldstein, 2012; Keddie, 1998), which also affected the Muslim world (AbuKhalil, 1994; Brubaker, 2015; Litonjua, 2018), and, consequently, Egypt (Abdelaal, 2013; Drevon, 2022; Moustafa, 2000; Toth, 2003). Islam was increasingly applied to the daily lives of many Egyptians; religious elites and Islamist movements competed to shape society, producing “novel modes of religiosity” (Rock-Singer, 2019:1–2) and Islam became increasingly entrenched in mainstream culture (al-Arian, 2014:81).

The religious upsurge also affected the position of women. In a global context, this era is sometimes viewed as “antifeminist” (Stacey, 1983:574) or a “time of backlash” (Echols & Willis, 2019:245), with religion as a key variable accounting for antifeminist stances (Himmelstein, 1986). The so-called “conservative” feminist thought of the 1970s and 1980s was characterized by Stacey as promoting a profamily stance and affirming gender differentiation. The struggle against male domination, moreover, was detracting from political agendas that were seen as more important (1983:561–562). Others, however, believe that there is also feminism based on religious principles and that these voices should be included in academic discourses (Paglia, 2008). “Liberal assumptions” about human nature have become the norm against which traditionalists are held accountable (Mahmood, 2011:5). In this regard, Hirshman mentions “choice feminism” (2006), which is the belief that the women’s movement liberated women to make all choices they want, ranging from liberal to conservative (Ferguson, 2010:247).

Often, people return to conservative religion because they are fed up with liberalism. Conservatism, in this respect, represents an “antidote to liberalism” and often links alleged social decline to the collapse of traditional family models (Manning, 1999:4). Feminism, thus, has become “just as dirty a word as liberalism” to some (Manning, 1999:6). In this regard, Hunter discussed the “culture war” and the conflict between “the sacred and the secular” (2009:1307), a struggle over “social space and voice” that is, accordingly, utilized as a political strategy by conservatives to preserve their place in the “shaping of the moral order” (2009:1319).

The Islamic revival commencing in the 1970s can, thus, be seen as a rebuke against Western culture and its individualism (Weir, 2013:336). This was largely motivated by the need to find a solution to the “ills of the Muslim world that Western imported ideologies had failed to cure and to redefine Egypt’s Islamic identity” (Drevon, 2022:52), and forms of Islamic feminism can be viewed within this context. Nevertheless, Muslim feminism can, accordingly, be viewed as a “negotiation with modernity,” in which modernity, which originates in the West, is accepted, whereas it also presents an alternative that is markedly different from the West. This “nativizing” of feminist demands also relates to the legacy of Western colonialism and the post-colonial urge to assert an independent national identity (Tohidi, 2003:139). Consequently, most women’s groups in the Middle East since the 1980s differentiate themselves from Western feminism, which is viewed as “as a legacy of colonialism and Western hegemony” (Charrad, 2011:425).

As for the Islamists, some argue that they marginalize women and that they are antagonistic to democracy and women’s rights (Dyer, 2013; Rahnema, 2008). An often heard assumption is that in order to support women’s rights, countries have to be secular, whereas many women in the MENA region, in fact, feel that Islam is not automatically hostile to women’s rights (Fox et al., 2016; Hicks, 2002; Marks, 2012). In this context, Rosefsky-Wickham seeks to identify the different meanings of what is considered to be the “moderation” of Islamist groups. Moderation, she argues, could refer to both an end state and a process. This is, moreover, a relative term and, when used, begs the question of moderate compared to what. Additionally, it may refer to changes in behavior and/or changes in broader worldviews, goals, and values, in addition to changes at the level of individuals as well as organizations, such as the MB. When used to describe an Islamist organization as a whole, it may “gloss over some important vectors of internal differentiation” (2015: 5–6).

Different Islamist groups have also often shown to be pragmatic regarding their position on women. There are many examples, such as the Sudanese Ansar al-Sunna, which was pragmatic enough to fill the 25% of seats reserved for women during the 2010 elections, even though they excluded women from politics (Tonnessen, 2016). The Jordanian Islamists’ stance on women’s issues also became “reactive and responsive to national debates” over the last decades (Alatiyat & Barari, 2010). Moreover, leaders of Islamic “patriarchal social movements” have pragmatic incentives to expand women’s authority when looking for new members. Women authorities can make arguments favoring the patriarchy that men cannot and they can reach new audiences that men cannot (Nielsen, 2020:52). Therefore, it could be strategic for Islamist groups to remain unclear about certain sensitive topics, such as Islamic law, the use of violence, political pluralism, civil and political rights, the rights of religious minorities, and the rights of women. These issues are called “gray zones” by Hamzawy, Ottaway, and Brown (2006, 4)

Additionally, women’s agendas, including their behavior and appearance, are often politicized and put in the service of political actors (Hatem, 2005; Moghadam, 1994). Women regularly become the marker for political goals and cultural identity during revolutions, times of state-building and when power is contested. In this regard, policy reforms aimed at women can serve as symbolic acts by authorities to signal their stance on gender equality, modernization, and religious authority. In the MENA region, moreover, women often proxy for positions on religion and politics, morality, and modernity—topics that are often intensely discussed by men (Tripp, 2019:2–3).

Established by Hasan al-Banna in 1928, the MB quickly became a socio-religious movement with political ambitions (Lia, 1998; Mitchell, 1993). Three years after al-Banna’s assassination in 1949, the Free Officers staged a coup, also with help from the MB (Arafat, 2017:65–94). Relations with Nasser soon soured and after a Muslim Brother attempted to assassinate him in 1954, the president declared the movement illegal and incarcerated many leaders and members. This heralded a traumatic era of so-called miḥna (“catastrophe”) that would only end after Nasser’s death (Santing, 2020:85–114; Zalaf, 2023). The years 1954–1970 marked a radical change for the movement and left deep scars, but it nevertheless managed to survive, despite the dissolutions and persecutions (Zalaf, 2023, 2–5)

In the early twentieth century, debates about the position of women already took place in Egypt. Positions about the veil, for instance, were becoming increasingly polarized and reflected a larger struggle between traditionalists and modernists. To the traditionalists, it signaled modesty, whereas the modernists viewed it as part of the nation’s backwardness (Baron, 1989:370). Gender issues were, moreover, taken up by both secular nationalists and Islamists to negotiate the “meanings of being ‘modern’ and being ‘authentic’” (Bier, 2011:42). Both rejected the culture of the effendiyya elite that was viewed as corrupt and connected to colonialism (Bier, 2011:42).

Women were recognized as central figures in the MB since its early days. Shortly after the movement’s establishment, al-Banna set up a school to teach girls—who would be society’s future mothers—about Islam. This institute developed into the first branch of the Muslim Sisters around 1932. In 1944, they organized anew and formed a central leadership under al-Banna’s directorship. These women taught at special women’s schools, worked in medical facilities, managed orphanages, helped poor families, led groups of women on the ḥajj, and propagated their message wherever they could. To them, true women’s emancipation could only occur when Muslim women were familiarized with their religion (Baron, 2005:209–211).

According to al-Banna, women played an essential role in the Islamic reformation, as successful reform begins with the individual in the family context. Nevertheless, during his years of leadership (1928–49) and in the early 1950s, few Muslim Sisters were enrolled at universities and the Islamic feminist movement failed to attract many educated women. Too many women viewed the Muslim Sisters as a setback, rather than the propagated true emancipation. The Muslim Sisters, thus, did not manage to grip the imagination of young women as the MB had been doing successfully for many years (Mitchell, 1993:175).

As for this preferred position of women in society, already in the 1930s, the MB pleaded for a return to an “authentic” Islam, purged from corrupt Western influences. Al-Banna advocated a return to veiling and believed that women should take up their domestic roles as mothers and wives in order to, eventually, establish an Islamic state (Bier, 2011:42). They were also viewed as the equals of men, but they had different responsibilities. Women were, moreover, encouraged to study to prepare themselves for their main function in life as wives and mothers. Additionally, even though women were not forbidden to work, given that this took place under proper conditions, their real job was still the home and the family (Mitchell, 1993:255–257). Nevertheless, the MB was not opposed to women taking on public, activist roles, so long as this promoted women’s roles as wives and mothers. The MB’s valorization of women’s domestic roles, moreover, also served to delegitimize competing groups. Female members of leftist activists were, for example, discredited by questioning their sexual morality (Bier, 2011:46).

The MB’s view on women during its early years was also influenced by imperialism and colonialism. When the Europeans came to Egypt, they brought their traditions and values with them. The MB viewed these influences as corrupt and immoral and pleaded for a return to a traditional Islamic life. Women were thought to have lost their Islamic virtues; free mixing of the sexes, for example, was believed to lead to debauchery and societal decline (Mitchell, 1993:223).

Under Nasser, state feminism emerged, which reinforced the MB’s earlier concerns with gender mixing (Rock-Singer, 2019:138). Women began to enter public life more and issues such as public morality, modesty, and interaction with men became of greater interest to MB and Salafi thinkers. Al-Azhar, for example, opened its doors to women in the 1960s and began offering secular subjects alongside traditional religious education (Badran, 2005:21). As female education increased, so did the number of women working outside the home. Consequently, debates arose about how to deal with this changing public sphere (Rock-Singer, 2016:287–289). Islamists, for example, condemned issues such as free mixing of the sexes, but they did advocate women’s education “as a means to inculcating the knowledge and values necessary to social and political transformation” (Bier, 2011:43).

Nevertheless, the 1952 revolution and Nasser’s subsequent presidency also “marked the beginning of the end of independent feminism in Egypt” (Bier, 2011:47). The state’s championing of women’s issues coincided with the suppression of dissenting voices, including the MB, which was outlawed in 1954. Women’s charitable organizations were, moreover, placed under control of the Ministry of Social Affairs, whereas these had been independent before (Bier, 2011:8). Al-Banna’s assassination in 1949 was, in addition, accompanied by a campaign in which many Muslim Brothers were arrested. Women at this point stepped in, and a similar scenario played out after Nasser banned the movement. Many of its leading members were arrested, whereas most Sisters still had freedom of movement to provide moral and financial support to families of the prisoners (Abdel-Latif, 2008:4).

Women’s entrance into public life continued under Sadat. In the 1970s, women became ever more educated and activist (El Guindi, 2005); there was an overall increase in female participation in education and the work force, and, at the same time, a growing number of women returned to wearing the veil (Sullivan, 1986:75; Mule & Barthel, 1992:326–327). Nevertheless, Egypt was, and still is, a “highly conservative and patriarchal society” (al-Anani, 2018:38) in which women played central roles in the domestic setting, and women’s entrance into public life also needs to be seen in this light. Fertility rates among women were, for example, still relatively high; an average Egyptian woman gave birth to 6.6 children in 1970 (the number went down to 4.8 in 1990), compared to 2.6 children for women who lived in the USA at that time (United Nations, 1991:26). Illiteracy rates were also high among women (as well as men) in Egypt in the 1970s. Between 1970 and 1974, 61.9% of women aged 15–24 were illiterate, compared to 37% of men in the same age group. The illiteracy rate among women aged 25 and above was 84.7%, compared to 51% of men in the same age group (United Nations, 1991:50). Additionally, women accounted for only 6% of all economic activity in 1970 (United Nations, 1991:104) and 1.9% of parliamentary seats were occupied by women in 1975, compared to 3.7% in the USA at the same time (United Nations, 1991:39).

The “self-appointed head” of Egypt’s women’s movement was, accordingly, Anwar Sadat’s wife Jihan, who adopted a reformist agenda (Amireh, 2000:232) that clashed with that of many religious groups. Jihan and her husband believed that changing the position of women would define them as a “modern couple,” different from Nasser and his wife (Hatem, 2016:42). Jihan defined herself as modern and Western, which separated her from large parts of Egyptian society that were increasingly Islamizing and prioritized women’s traditional family roles (Hatem, 2016:42). Jihan was, seemingly, aware of this dilemma. She wrote in her autobiography regarding the issue of family planning, for example, that this was difficult, as “too many think it is against Islam” (Sadat, 1987:317).

With Sadat’s presidency and the Islamic revival of the 1970s, religious groups started to look for ways to deal with the issue of women in public life. Both the MB and Salafis agreed that women had the right to education, but female employment met with more resistance and was generally seen as destabilizing of gender relations (Rock-Singer, 2016:296–297). Another question that emerged was how women could preserve their modesty while traversing public space (Rock-Singer, 2016:292). Additionally, Egypt witnessed a big population growth in, especially, the second half of the 1970s. Consequently, “as personal space in public decreased, the threat of physical contact increased” (Rock-Singer, 2016:293), an issue for which an answer had to be articulated. This discussion largely centered on students and universities, where male and female students were in close proximity in overcrowded lecture halls and public transport (Rock-Singer, 2016:292–293). Naturally, these debates also affected the Islamic student groups, within which some women sympathized with the MB, whereas others supported different Salafi groups (Rock-Singer, 2016:303). Accordingly, universities emerged as the “main recruiting grounds for women activists” during this time (Abdel-Latif, 2008:5).

Regarding legislation, Sadat amended two laws that particularly affected the position of women. The first was the new constitution, initially adopted in 1971. Article 11 stated, “the state will reconcile women’s duties to their families and women’s work in society. The state will also ensure women’s equality with men in the political, social, cultural, and economic domains without violating the laws of the Islamic shari‘a” (Constitution, 1972:56). To appease the religious groups, Sadat added “and the principles of Islamic shari‘a are a primary source of legislation” to Article 2 (Abdelaal, 2013:36). The constitution was amended in 1980, when Sadat found himself constrained by Article 77, which limited the presidency to two 6-year terms. He wanted to stay in power, but realized he needed the support of, among others, the religious groups. His solution was to amend both Articles 2 and 77. Article 2 now read that “the principles of Islamic shari‘a are the primary source of legislation,” and “the president may be reelected for successive terms” was added to Article 77 (Abdelaal, 2013:36). The amendment of, especially, Article 2 led to major controversy, which continues in Egypt to this day (Abdelaal, 2013:37). Proponents viewed this as the first step toward implementing shari‘a (Auf, 2016:4), but it did not come into effect, angering the religious groups.

The Personal Status Law particularly concerned the position of women and its amendment also sparked controversy. In the 1970s, Egypt’s family law was still traditional shari‘a law, unlike its civil law. Consequently, matters such as marriage, divorce, child custody, and inheritance were covered by the Laws of Personal Status (Gómez-Rivas, 2011). Sadat introduced “relatively limited changes” in 1979 (while Parliament was in recess) (Najjar, 1988:319). Accordingly, this resort to presidential decrees in order to bypass parliamentary opposition “cast the shadow of authoritarianism on women’s rights” (Hatem, 1992:240) and antagonized all political groups (Hatem, 1992:243). Nevertheless, some also considered these changes a welcome relief for Egyptian women (Najjar, 1988:319). Although Sadat favored more liberal family laws, to impress the West (Najjar, 1988:323; Hatem, 1992:242) and also to undermine the Islamists’ legitimacy (Hatem, 1992:242), he also had to take the power of Muslim conservatives into account. Aware of possible criticism from religious groups, Sadat secured endorsement by a number of high-placed “ulama.” Opponents, however, dubbed it the “Jihan al-Sadat Laws” (Najjar, 1988:323–324), as many thought she was behind the reforms. This, among other things, was connected to the fact that the introduction of the changes coincided with the first two UN Conferences on Women, held in Mexico (1975) and Copenhagen (1980), with Jihan heading the Egyptian delegation in 1980 (Sonneveld & Lindbekk, 2015:5).

In practice, there was a tension between the constitution and the Personal Status Law. Article 11 of the 1971 constitution stated that men and women were equal, without violating shari‘a laws, which meant that gender equality only applied when it was thought not to contradict shari‘a. This led to confusion, as shari‘a, according to Egypt’s Personal Status Law, claimed that women should obey their husbands (Sonneveld & Lindbekk, 2015:6). The 1980 amendment of Article 2, stating that Islamic sharia was the primary source of legislation, added to this confusion and “set the scene for long-standing debates” on the responsibility of the state to protect women’s rights to equal citizenship on the one hand and the responsibility to protect the family as the basis of society on the other (Lindbekk, 2017:287). In practice, moreover, personal status legislation is, up to date, primarily looked at for consistency with the principles of shari‘a (Lindbekk, 2013:90).

Within the context of rising religiosity and a changing political landscape, the MB made its comeback. The MB grew significantly under Sadat and expanded organizationally (Willi, 2021:51), even though it took several years to recover, as it was in a state of disarray after a nearly 20-year absence (al-Arian, 2014:75–76) and it remained formally illegal. The MB changed on different fronts. First, it became increasingly politically ambitious under Tilmisani, who encouraged his followers to actively participate in politics and “acquire power through legitimate means” (Willi, 2021:51), and changed the movement’s activism to a strategy of nonviolent political participation (Baker, 1991:59–61). In addition, the MB changed its stance on revolutionary violence against the Egyptian authorities (Ashour, 2009), even though Tilmisani was also pragmatic and prepared to take in more radical young members (Pargeter, 2010:42). It sometimes benefitted from the regime’s campaigns against radical groups, for instance by helping to contain these youngsters, while at the same time trying to convert them to its own cause. To both the radical youth and the regime, the movement could present itself as a reasonable alternative, whereas its discourse could not be too moderate as not to alienate more radical factions (Santing, 2020:153). Allegedly, one of Tilmisani’s “most remarkable achievements” was that he resolved the “excruciating question of violence” and committed most students to a peaceful path (Willi, 2021:88). He believed that true social and political reform could only transpire if the Islamic movement worked within Egypt’s legal framework and he continuously repeated the necessity for the MB to establish itself as a legitimate player (Willi, 2021:88). Tilmisani, thus, spent his term “bridging the gap between the old and the new generations”; he opted for political participation, upsetting the older generations, and ruled out institutional violence against the Egyptian authorities, angering the new generations and so forth (Santing, 2020:146). Nevertheless, he managed to combine these different perspectives into a “cohesive vision” (al-Arian, 2014:100).

Whereas the MB changed its views on political participation and political violence, the Islamists also participated in a “project of public morality,” in which piety functioned as a “source of social distinction” (Rock-Singer, 2019:74). Regarding women’s issues, these “assumptions of gendered modesty” emerged out of a male-centered elite. Consequently, the Islamists “seized on modesty” to implicitly challenge the regime that balanced between religious claims and conflicting performance (Rock-Singer, 2019:153).

The movement faced several challenges after its return. First, it was no longer the only Islamic and activist-oriented group competing for followers. The field of Islamic activism had diversified in its absence and had become more competitive, with different groups competing with each other and with the regime to revive the role of Islam (Drevon, 2022:52), posing an “unwanted challenge” to the MB’s authority (al-Arian, 2014:76). First, there were the Salafis. Under Nasser, Muslim Brothers and Salafis came in closer contact at the mosques, where cross-fertilization took place. Ties that developed between the MB and the Salafis in the 1960s expanded under Sadat. In the 1970s, both groups competed for religious authority while facing a regime that sought top-down Islamization (Rock-Singer, 2016:293–294). Public piety was an important element in this competition for religious authority and the Salafis’ project of public gender segregation distinguished it from the MB, which supported grassroots female activism (Rock-Singer, 2016:304). Islamic student movements, which rose to prominence under Nasser and came to flourish under Sadat (Rosefsky-Wickham, 2002:24–41), also competed for power with the MB. Al-Jama‘at al.-Islamiyya is a collective term for these, initially, apolitical pious university societies. Throughout the 1970s, they gradually politicized and radicalized (Meijer, 2009:14). Like the MB, the Jama‘at were initially supported by the state to compete with leftist and nationalist forces (Drevon, 2022:61), but by the mid-1970s, this relation became increasingly antagonistic. Initially, sharp disagreements existed between them and the MB, many of which concerned issues of gender relations and (female) sexuality. These youngsters wanted, for example, strict enforcement of gender separation at universities and in public transport and a strict imposition of the niqab. At first, the religious students accused the MB of deviating from the right path, but the MB leadership was so impressed by the success of the Jama‘a Islamiyya that it looked for closer cooperation (Willi, 2021:75–79). The Jama‘at were very successful during the 1977 student elections, and during this period, the competition with the MB grew, as the movement wanted to recruit a new generation of members. The Jama‘at were also internally divided and an organizational split occurred in 1978, when the Upper Egyptian Jama‘a was established as a separate organization. This branch had especially bad relations with the MB, whereas many student leaders in Lower Egypt proclaimed their adherence to the MB (Meijer, 2014:191–197). This fragmented Islamic scene presented both a challenge and an opportunity to the MB. It tried to convince the new generation that the MB needed to be restored to its perceived rightful place as the Islamic movement’s leader, which entailed satisfying all the prevailing ideologies. What complicated matters even further was that the regime also emerged as an actor in the field of Islamic politics (al-Arian, 2014:85–86). Nonetheless, the diversified Islamic scene also presented considerable potential for expanding its following.

Internal divisions, which had plagued the MB for many years (Arafat, 2017:65–94), were another challenge to the MB under Sadat in terms of both organization and ideology. The 1970s saw the rise of a new generation that was more radical, challenged the older generations, and developed a new taste for politics (Santing, 2020:145). Allegedly, three main camps existed during the 1970s. The first felt that it had to take a step back and revert to public advocacy. The second pleaded for the return of the MB as an activist organization with a strong internal structure and rigid hierarchy. The third faction had an accommodationist stance and proposed to combine elements of the two other factions. The latter coalesced around ‘Umar al-Tilmisani, who, as the General Guide, represented the formal voice of the movement (al-Arian, 2014:96–100) and had to keep and bring all the different internal factions together.

A third challenge that the MB faced was its relationship with the regime, which was pragmatic and dangled between coexistence and confrontation (Santing, 2020:153, 139). Initially, Sadat supported the movement as he “facilitated the reconstruction of the religious field and motivated flourishing demands for a greater role for Islam in society” (Drevon, 2022:51). He had different reasons for aligning himself with religious groups (Rubinstein, 1977), which included combatting the influence of the left (Zahid & Medley, 2006:702–703), his desire to get the powerful Islamic student movement “into his orbit of influence” (Willi, 2021:65), and also because he wanted to avoid the threat these religious groups posed to his rule (Abdelaal, 2013:36). This relation became increasingly confrontational after Sadat started the peace initiative with Israel in 1977 (Aly & Wenner, 1982:354; Baker, 1991:51–52; Santing, 2020:233–243; Willi, 2021:86–87). The MB knew it had to stay true to its ideological opposition against Israel, while, simultaneously, trying not to provoke Sadat too much, to avoid arousing his “ire against them” (Willi, 2021:86), also because the MB still had no legal status and feared losing its hard-fought privileges (Santing, 2020:154). Meanwhile, Tilmisani understood that Sadat needed the MB’s cooperation to contain the radical elements of the Islamic movement, whereas he also knew that their relationship was tactical and that Sadat still viewed the MB as threatening (Willi, 2021:79).

Under Sadat, the MB was allowed to publish its own journals again (until all oppositional press was banned in 1981), the most prominent of which was al-Da‘wa (“the Call”). However, al-Da‘wa was not the movement’s only journal. Al-Mukhtar al-Islami (“The Islamic Chosen”) was another MB publication that circulated under Sadat (Ibrahim, 1988:644). There was also al-I‘tisam (“Adherence”). Before al-Da‘wa was launched in 1976, al-I‘tisam had been available for some time (Aly & Wenner, 1982:350). Both al-Da‘wa and al-I‘tisam gradually became more critical of Sadat’s domestic and foreign policy and he, allegedly, “grudgingly tolerated” them (Ibrahim, 1980:426). Although al-I‘tisam was formally published by leading figures within the Salafi Jam‘iyya Shar‘iyya (Rock-Singer, 2016:283), the MB and its Salafi counterparts had influenced each other over time (Rock-Singer, 2016:294), which also came to the fore in these periodicals. Several Muslim Brothers who wrote for al-Da‘wa, for example, also published in al-Iꜥtisam and it frequently published work from Hasan al-Banna. These three journals were, allegedly, the “ideological organs” of “alternative Islam” (El Guindi, 1981:473) that represented the “conservative Islamist discourse” (Ismail, 1998:199) and “openly stated their criticism of all the government’s shortcomings” (Warburg, 1982:149).

Looking at these journals, connections to the MB are obvious. Al-Da‘wa’s slogan, for example, was “the voice of truth, strength and freedom.” This same slogan was used by the MB’s first journal Jaridat al-Ikhwan al-Muslimin (1933–1938). Salih ‘Ashmawi, a MB veteran (Santing, 2020:218–223), was editor-in-chief and Tilmisani managed and supervised it. Tilmisani, moreover, wrote each edition’s opening article. As for al-I‘tisam, the MB connection is less clear, but nevertheless obvious. Hasan Al-Banna frequently appeared, for example, and Mohammed ‘Abd al-Quddus, Jabir Rizq, and Anwar al-Guindi were among its authors. All three were also contributors to al-Da‘wa and well-known Muslim Brothers (Santing, 2020:203–209, 223–225). The interconnection between al-Da‘wa and al-I‘tisam also shows from the advertisements. In al-I‘tisam’s November 1979 issue, for example, there is an advertisement for al-Da‘wa and some advertisements in al-I‘tisam are from the same companies that advertised in al-Da‘wa, such as Ashrita Musajilla. For this reason, articles written by authors who also wrote for al-Da‘wa and articles from Hasan al-Banna that were published in al-IꜤtisam are incorporated in the empirical sample. Al-Mukhtar al-Islami deviated in the sense that it was smaller and less prominent. Nevertheless, it displayed similar discourses on issues that were also addressed in al-Da‘wa and al-I‘tisam.

Al-Da‘wa paid the most attention to women’s issues. It had a special women’s section from the onset (naḥwa bayt muslim), catered to women and family matters. Al-I‘tisam also introduced a women’s section in February 1980 (rukn al-mar’a al-muslima), which did not last and no longer appeared after September 1980. No such section existed in al-Mukhtar al-Islami and the latter, consequently, pays least attention to women.

For this paper, I conducted a qualitative content analysis. I examined al-Da‘wa (1976–1981), al-Mukhtar al-Islami (1979–1981) and articles written by Muslim Brothers in al-I‘tisam (1977–1981), and made a database with all articles discussing anything related to women. In this database, I entered the journal’s details, author(s) (if possible), title, keywords, and a brief summary. This resulted in over 200 relevant articles, most of which came from al-Da‘wa. The following categorization is based upon four wider issues that were historically addressed and debated within the MB regarding the position of women: her preferred position in society, whether she is allowed to study and work, how her authenticity and morality should be safeguarded, and how to deal with women’s issues in (contemporary) legislation.

Based on the empirical findings from the journals, the theoretical framework and the MB’s ideological and organizational developments, this paragraph zooms in on three matters. First, it shows that the MB’s position on women under Sadat did not change significantly since its early years. Second, the movement’s view on women and women’s issues is more closely defined. The third part of the analysis focuses on what purpose this view on women served the MB under Sadat.

First off, when reading the MB’s writings under Sadat on women’s issues, it becomes apparent that—broadly speaking—the movement expressed similar views, compared to its early years. Since its early existence, women played a central role in the movement’s ideology and this was still widely proclaimed during the Sadat era. Similar to the movement’s early years, women were still encouraged to study, as reform begins at home, in the family context, and women were considered to be their children’s teachers, who are the future generation of believers. Employment, on the other hand, was still more complicated. Although not forbidden, a woman’s true and preferred job was at home, which remained the case during the Sadat years. Additionally, the MB historically pleaded for women’s return to authentic Islam, in which they are equal to men, but with different responsibilities. This authenticity also included that women dressed properly and that they had to be purged from corrupt, foreign influences. Again, we hear similar narratives in the MB’s writings in the 1970s, albeit that the foreign influences were still connected to physical colonialism during its early years, whereas this changed to cultural and intellectual colonialism under Sadat. Nevertheless, despite the obvious similarities, the movement consistently spoke about women’s issues in general, broad terms, which might help to explain why this discourse could be carried on 40 to 50 years after its establishment.

The following part seeks to more closely define this broad view on women expressed by the movement during the Sadat years. To begin, the movement displays a form of Islamic feminism that does not identify with secular forms of feminism, which are viewed as inferior and should not be admired or followed by Muslim women. The MB believes, for example, that people who want to preserve their traditions are accused by people with secular tendencies of being backward, whereas being a believing woman by no means rules out that she can also be a modern woman. In addition, feminism in the Middle East is in most cases not secular, so what comes to the fore in these journals is, in this regard, not unique. In line with Mahmood’s (2011) viewpoint, defining and understanding the MB’s view on women, thus, entails looking at the phenomenon as the product of Islamic and Egyptian religious, cultural, and historical traditions, rather than from normative liberal assumptions on feminism.

The MB’s position on women, moreover, fits Stacey’s (1983) classical characteristics of conservative feminist thought. It promoted, for one, a pro-family stance with the woman as a wife and mother, in charge of the household. It was also affirmative of gender differentiation by emphasizing, for example, that men and women are equal, but with different responsibilities. Additionally, implementing shari‘a (which, according to the MB, equals respecting women’s rights) and obtaining a legitimate political position were, among other things, more important to the movement than moderating its view on women. Moreover, women’s issues, in whatever form, were framed by the MB as part of a (broader) religious struggle for a proper Islamic society, in which women hold a special position. In line with this, the reemergence and growth of the MB also fitted within the larger global religious upsurge in the 1970s and 1980s that saw the rise of conservative religious groups, which also affected the position of women. Liberal views on women and women’s rights simply did not fit within both the MB’s ideology and the general spirit of the age in Egypt and the (Muslim) world at large.

Thus far, the MB’s view on women can, thus, be defined as Islamic and conservative, and, according to the movement’s writings, modern. This supports Rock-Singer’s (2019) notion that Islamic groups under Sadat produced new modes of religiosity. Islamic feminism is a negotiation with modernity, not a total rejection and it does accept certain modern elements. At a time when women increasingly entered the public sphere, the movement had to adapt its discourse to the changing reality, which also shows its pragmatism and ideological flexibility. One example of this is female employment, which was generally discouraged, but women were allowed to work in certain cases and under certain, proper conditions. Even though their job at home was most important, they had the right to work, but they themselves were said to prefer not to work outside the home. Another example is female education, which was generally encouraged, albeit under proper conditions, such as separation of the sexes in the lecture halls and a proper curriculum for women. Again, we see that the MB responded in its writings to the reality on the ground at universities where male and female students increasingly came together and to which an answer had to be formulated within the MB’s broad ideological framework.

Another key element in defining the MB’s view on women is the issue of safeguarding women’s authenticity and morality. One aspect of this is the debate on (Muslim) women’s physical appearance, which was portrayed in several articles as a non-issue, as rules about this were said to be very clear. Modest clothing is required for all Muslim women because Islam requires this, but also to protect women from being harassed and dishonored in public. This stance was not exceptional, however, as many women had returned to veiling during the Sadat era due to the religious upsurge. Another aspect of this line of discourse is the alleged influence of the West on women. Manning’s (1999) notion that people return to conservatism because it presents an antidote to the excesses of liberalism, which, in itself, is responsible for the demise of the traditional family model, corresponds to what was proclaimed in the journals. Women’s “liberation” was seen as a false banner and gender equality as a Western invention that does not suit Islam and, consequently, leads to distorted families and neglected husbands and children. Weir’s (2013) idea that Islamic feminism is a rebuke against Western culture and Tohidi’s (2003) notion that it is used to “nativize” feminist demands and present itself as an alternative to the West also undoubtedly shows from the journals, in which the West was consistently depicted as a bad example for Muslim women and Islam as the only true path in life. The West’s evil intent was underlined, for example, by accusing it of assaulting women’s dignity, mobilizing women to wage war against their own religion and shaming those who adhere to their values. Allegedly, the time of admiration of the West is over and women were urged to return to the original teachings of Islam, which protect women and fit their nature much better. The journals also clearly display anti-colonialist discourses, which concur with Tohidi (2003) and Charrad’s (2011) notions on the anti-colonialist aspects of Islamic feminism. The women’s liberation movement, for example, was viewed as corrupt and a “colonial conspiracy” and “missionaries” were accused of trying to corrupt women. Enemies of Islam, moreover, wanted Muslim women to stray from the right path and they tried to fight Islam, already since the time of the crusades, by launching cultural and intellectual invasions, aimed at making Muslim women go astray. In all cases, Islam, as practiced by the MB, is presented as the only true answer.

Politicization was another aspect of the MB’s view on, and use of women’s issues. Various scholars showed that women are often used as markers for political purposes, especially when power is contested and/or political actors wish to signal their stance on religious authority. In addition, Islamists’ stances on women are often reactive and pragmatic, also in political contexts. The journals confirm that this was also the case with the MB, which wanted to take part in political debates, in this case regarding the position of women and their rights. This pragmatism was part of Tilmisani’s strategy, as he realized that he needed the regime to survive, whereas the regime also needed the MB for political and religious legitimacy and to contain radical Islamic groups. Exemplary for the MB’s pragmatism in relation to women’s issues was its response to new legislation, which also indicated that it felt it had a legitimate voice in these political debates. The amendment of the constitution and the Personal Status Law met with fierce criticism in the journals. Both amendments were adopted during the MB’s years of confrontation with Sadat, in the second half of the 1970s. By declaring shari‘a, the primary source of legislation in the constitution, also regarding women’s rights, the regime could be held accountable for not implementing this, which shows from the journals. For example, not implementing shari‘a, allegedly, goes against the demands of the people and the provision was seen as a farce, used by the president to extend the number of presidential terms, which was, actually, the case. The Personal Status Law, additionally, particularly concerned the position of women. Although changes were limited, the MB responded fiercely by arguing, for instance, that it desecrated the sacred provisions of marriage, legitimized issues such as adultery, divorce, and sodomy, and, consequently, ruined households. These amendments likely not only angered the MB because they conflicted with its values, but also because they were imposed by presidential decrees, which antagonized all political groups.

Regarding women’s rights, some observers believe that women are marginalized by Islamists and that their rights are not respected. The MB, in fact, argued the opposite and believed that it respected women’s rights unlike un-Islamic forms of rule. Women were rather believed to be abused in other religions and protected in Islam. Thus, calling the MB’s view on women “antifeminist” or a “time of backlash” seems over-simplified. The MB itself, for one, did not consider its views on women backward or antagonistic, but rather an improvement, especially compared to other (Western) laws that were not believed to protect women’s rights. According to the MB, thus, there exists a feminism based on conservative principles, which can be viewed as a form of what Hirshman (2006) called “choice feminism,” in the sense that liberated women can make whatever choices they want, ranging from liberal to conservative, even though liberal interpretations of feminism were, clearly, not part of the MB’s agenda. In fact, the MB published interviews in which girls claimed that this conservative way of life was exactly what they wished for. Nevertheless, in line with Tripp’s (2019) notion that women often proxy for positions on religion and politics, morality, and modernity in discussions predominantly held by men, it should be noticed that this was very much the case in the MB writings. One aspect of the MB’s view on women was that it was primarily based on articles written by male authors, offering a largely male perspective on women’s issues. Even though on several occasions women were interviewed and we find letters to the editor written by women in the women’s sections, Zaynab al-Ghazali was, in fact, one of the only structural female contributors to this debate. In addition, although women had increasingly entered public space under Sadat, they, generally, still played more central roles in domestic settings. Consequently, Egypt’s conservative and patriarchal nature in general and the MB’s conservative constituency in particular left little room for liberal stances on women’s rights to begin with.

The third part of the analysis focuses on the question what purpose this view on women served the MB. Generally, MB feminism could be seen as part of what Hunter (2009) called a broader “culture war” and the conflict between the “sacred and the secular” that the movement was involved with. Such debates could be used to maintain and expand its position in shaping the moral order, in an environment in which the movement increasingly had to compete for political and religious authority. Jihan Sadat also played a role in this culture war as her reformist agenda, as well as her and Sadat’s presentation as a modern couple, ran counter to societal developments in general and the MB’s interests in particular. This clash also shows from, on the one hand, the increase in women’s participation in education and the work force and, on the other hand, the growing (societal) conservatism.

Although the MB was no formal political actor under Sadat, it did develop political ambitions and felt it had a voice in the political debate, which clearly comes to the fore in its journals. It tried to lead the broad Islamic movement and positioned itself as a serious, nonviolent political opposition to the regime that aspired to become a legitimate political player and work within Egypt’s legal framework. Legally, this made sense to the MB, given that the (1971) constitution claimed not to violate shari ‘a and, after 1980, even declared Islamic shari‘a the primary source of legislation. At the same time, the MB also contested for (public) piety. By seizing on modesty, as pointed out by Rock-Singer (2016), the MB tried to challenge, among others, the Salafis, the Islamic student movements, and the regime. The latter was, itself, struggling with its religious claims and contradictory actions. Women were, thus, instrumental in this struggle over the question who was most pious and expressing conservative views on women, in this sense, helped the movement to strengthen both its political and religious authority in relation to competing religious groups and the Sadat administration.

Expanding its membership was also part of this search for authority. A conservative stance on women could help the MB attract new members and expand, for example, among the Islamic student movement, which was high on Tilmisani’s agenda. These Islamic youngsters were often more radical and required a more orthodox approach, meaning that the MB had to adapt its discourse in order to appeal to this group. Calling for separation of the sexes at universities and requiring female students to wear a veil, for example, were high on the religious student groups’ agendas and this was also widely promoted in the MB writings. Additionally, the MB’s encouragement of female education and veiling also fitted within the early ideas of Hasan al-Banna, the general spirit of the age, which saw an increase in female enrollment at universities and a subsequent increase in contact between male and female students, and the agenda of the Islamic student groups.

The fragmented Islamic scene, moreover, was both an opportunity and a challenge to the MB, as these people were potential members, but it also had to respond to all prevailing ideologies, ranging from more radical to more moderate, while simultaneously, it could not overstep the regime’s red lines, as it was still officially an illegal movement. Complicating the movement’s position even further was that it also had to take its own internal divisions into account. Thus, the MB navigated between the Islamic groups it wanted to incorporate, the regime it did not want to antagonize too much, and its own divided membership. As a pragmatic movement, it had to adapt its discourse accordingly.

The MB experienced a significant revival under Sadat, which resulted in growing political and religious ambitions, whereas its views on the position of women still very much resembled its early teachings. This clearly came to the fore in its writings, which provided the movement with a valuable platform to express its views to a broader audience. The MB had multiple reasons to be cautious in revising its views on women while changing, at the same time, the way it dealt with politics and revolutionary violence against the authorities. The movement’s stance on the position of women was, first off, in line with the Islamic revival Egypt experienced. Given the nature of Egyptian society under Sadat, in which women, despite an overall increase in female participation in education and the workforce, still mainly played central roles in the domestic setting, reconsidering the traditional position of women was not viewed by the movement and many of the Egyptians it reached out to as something that needed change, contrary to the country’s administrative situation. More specifically, women’s issues were used by the MB as a tool to showcase its piety. This was instrumental in its search for political and religious authority, which the movement needed in order to expand its membership, lead the fragmented Islamic movement, deal with its own divided rank-and-file, and challenge the Sadat administration. For these same purposes, changing its views on nonviolent political participation was just as essential. Nevertheless, as much as we can try to conceptualize and pinpoint what the MB stood for, this remains challenging, as it was not a well-defined movement with a clear-cut ideology. Reading its journals and official writings is as close as we can get to an official view, but as a broad and divided movement, it was more beneficial to remain vague on sensitive issues, such as women and women’s rights. What we see in these journals is that the MB called upon religious dogmas that appealed to a wide audience and were, seemingly, timeless, but calling this a clear-cut ideology would gloss over the movement’s complexity. Rather, the MB’s view on women needs to be seen in the light of its own ideological and organizational development, the dynamics of the broader Islamic movement and the socio-political climate in Egypt under Sadat.