I Exist: European Stories of Islamophobia
The narratives included in I Exist seek to perform a challenging task: amplify the voice of those often marginalised in the contemporary discussion of Islam and its role in Europe. Bringing together the work of five photographers, Nina Berman, Tanya Habjouqa, Olga Kravets, Bénédicte Kurzen, and Sebastián Liste, I Exist shares the personal stories of Muslims in Spain, France, Belgium and Italy, hoping to live as citizens but othered in a hyper-visible and critical reality. Exploring the diversity of the European Muslim experience as well as the diversities of European Islamophobia, these stories provide an opportunity to counter the narrow, brittle, and false vision of a Europe besieged by ravening Islamic fanatics bent on destruction.
How the increasing religious diversity of Europe will manifest itself in the years to come is a key topic in the works included in I Exist. Some responses have been constructive, as documented by Nina Berman in the Belgian town of Mechelen, where social policies are fostering inclusivity and combatting both stigma and extremism. In other cases, matters have been more contentious, with far-right parties exploiting ambient suspicions and prejudices.
tHE PROJECT WAS EXHIBITED at the Melkweg Expo BETWEEN September 4th to October 10th, 2020.
Tanya Habjouqa
Diary of Inquietude: Testimonies of French Muslim Women
“Whatever Muslims wear – and despite this being by choice – Muslim women in France find themselves in the middle of a secularism debate they have no voice in.” Widad Ketfi, French journalist.
Muslim women can have a modern interpretation of Islam and their own vision for feminism, so why is the policing of women’s bodies continuously institutionalized by the French state? This is the question that guided my multidisciplinary audio-visual investigation into the lives of French Muslim women and girls across France. A collection of audio testi- monies will be utilized to create ethnographic soundscapes for the exhibit, and as a source of material for the print edition of our project. The audio tracks are a record of oral history. Video and still portraits were taken in collaboration with participants, mixing a recreation of memories, absurdist commentary, and traditional portraiture.
“After graduating from university in Economics, I decided to reinvent myself as a baker. I went to take the exam, which took place in a public high school. A representative of the high school asked me to remove my scarf. I refused. He said that my scarf was forbidden, but I explained to him that since I wasn’t a student nor working in the school, the rule did not apply to me. He insisted. I felt trapped. It was rude to go because there were demonstrators who came just for me to the test. I tried to explain that it didn’t make any sense and that, to me, it was like asking to take off my trousers. He didn’t get it, or didn’t want to, I don’t know. It was very hard because I knew I had the right to keep it.
Then, I hid in a corner of the room, I tied my scarf around my head and he asked me if I wanted to put on a plastic cap to be more comfortable. I answered that the most comfortable to me would be to keep my scarf. Then he left. The representatives of the company were really embarrassed because I was crying out of humiliation. I wrote to the local authority of Education, and a few weeks later I received a letter from the high school with apologies.”
Rym, baker, 36, Paris.
Sebastian Liste
In 2014, 49 islamophobic attacks were recorded in Spain. By 2016, that number was 573. According to the Office of the Attorney General, the numbers continue to increase annually.
Though new reports show that 70% of islamophobic attacks now happen online, confrontations in mosques and on streets across the country remain common.
We examine the impact of this hostility by focusing on Ceuta— a city along Europe’s southern border, and one of only two on the African continent, where more than half of the population identifies as Muslim.
Even Ceuta, with its long history of successful cooperation between religious communities, has recently experienced increases in racism and xenophobia. This work looks at four young Muslim women born and raised in the city, who provide insight into their daily lives.
This project rethinks the way we create stereotypes
and myths by deconstructing the four major myths facing Muslims in Spain:
Myth 1:
“The hijab goes against women and shows a lack of integration in Western society”
Olga Kravets
Olga Kravets Islam in Italy: An Inventory
On a cloudy October morning, I met Yassine Baradai, of the National Secretary of the Italian Union of Islamic Communities, in the town of Casalpusterlengo in Lombardia, northern Italy. Together we set out to the local Islamic Cultural Association.
We enter a bright red, two-story building that with each step transforms more into a spacious, beautifully renovated prayer hall. The building has been a plank in the eye of local members of Lega Norte, Italy’s most islamophobic party, since its 2016 establishment.
“We are famous as a region of a thousand church towers. We don’t want to become a region of a thousand minarets. So we have used every trick
in the urban planning books to stop the spread of mosques,” Massimiliano Romeo, a Lega politician, said in a 2017 BBC interview
Benedicte Kurzen
Bénédicte Kurzen— State of Emergency, France
In “State of Emergency” Bénédicte Kurzen addresses the institutionalized logic behind islamophobia and its genealogy. After the 2015 Bataclan massacre by Islamic State shooters in Paris, the French government declared a state of emergency for two years. In 2016, by the time the state of emergency was lifted, only 23 of the court cases opened amid 4,457 house raids could be linked to terrorist activity. In effect, on October 3, 2017, what began as temporary measures became a permanent state of emergency, reinforcing the long-standing institutional persecution of a marginalized minority. In this project, Kurzen attempts to understand how a stereotype is built and sustained through her unique photographic approach. The bleaching flash hides faces, giving shape to the construction of the stereotype at the root of Islamophobia and illustrates how the over-exposure of the Muslim population, in a negative light, creates a toxic blur obscuring diversity.
Text written by French sociologist and political scientist Vincent Geisser:
En avril 1955, en pleine guerre d’Algérie, le gouvernement français fait voter pour la première fois de son histoire une loi instaurant l’état d’urgence sur son territoire dans le but de réprimer les nationalistes algériens qui luttent pour leur indépendance ; en novembre 2005 confrontées aux émeutes urbaines et aux mouvements de protestation dans les banlieues, les autorités décident de ressusciter une législation coloniale afin de placer sous surveillance les quartiers populaires ; dix ans plus tard, en novembre 2015, face à une vague d’attentats qui endeuillent la nation, les pouvoirs publics renouent avec l’état d’urgence afin de démanteler les réseaux jihadistes et de prévenir de nouvelles attaques terroristes sur son territoire.
En apparence, ces trois moments forts de « restauration » de l’état d’urgence dans l’histoire récente de la société française n’ont pas grand-chose à voir entre eux et il serait peu pertinent d’établir un continuum à la fois historique et sécuritaire. Mais à y regarder de plus près, les représenta- tions et les motivations qui président à l’adoption de telles mesures exceptionnelles semblent participer d’un imagi- naire commun, visant à assigner, contrôler et surveiller des populations dont l’altérité culturelle et religieuse est perçue comme conflictuelle et problématique…
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