Abstract
The academic and lay interest towards Turkey’s Alevi community has so far treated the Alevi man as the ultimate Alevi subject. Gender dynamics in the Alevi communities have been overlooked since it was assumed that Alevi women enjoy equal rights with men as Alevism promotes gender equality. This has left gender dynamics in Alevi communities relatively under-researched. In this article I aim to analyse the construction of an idealised image of Alevi woman through the analysis of 31 semi-structured interviews that I have conducted with women who have administrative roles in various cemevi in Istanbul. In most narratives there is a gap between the actual situation of Alevi women and the idealised Alevi woman; this gap is understood as a result of the patriarchal culture prevalent in the Middle East, the encounters with the Sunni majority and the weakening of Alevi traditions’ influence on individuals’ daily lives.
Upon completing my fieldwork – which stretched to nearly a year – I conducted my last interview with Gülşen, a feminist and Alevi activist. We met at a cafe in Istanbul’s liveliest and most vibrant neighbourhood, Taksim, on a chilly afternoon. There she was with her big smile, confident, friendly, and warm. I, a little nervous but glad that she agreed to participate in my research, greeted her warmly. After some ice-breaking small talk, I was hoping to begin the interview.
To my surprise she raised the first question: she asked how the research was going and what my main findings were so far. I explained that I found a nearly 25% female representation in the administrative boards, that women were very much present in Alevi organisations yet there was a gendered pattern in the way they took on duties. Hoping she might confirm my findings, I searched for clues of agreement in her eyes. She agreed with the general findings, but she also challenged me to rethink why a large number of women do not go to Alevi organisations at all, and suggested that their needs were not met there. The fact that she interviewed me first took me by surprise, but I also appreciated her comments and the challenges she suggested.
I could detect a similar level of interest in my research amongst the other women I interacted with in the field. Regardless of their socio-economic status, educational background or position within their organisations, some research participants defied the notions of active researcher versus passive participant. Some were curious about my findings and opinions on Alevism as an outsider. As I reflected on this, I noticed that it was more than simple curiosity: whilst the Sunni majority is unmarked, the Alevi people are accustomed to being asked about Alevism and have developed a narrative over the years to explain it; indeed, they feel responsible for representing it in a positive way as a shield from discrimination.
I could see that the notions of power and gender equality are complex and may not always be confined to strict definitions. For instance, equal representation and institutional power are not the sole indicators of gender equality. In addition, there may be a gendered and patriarchal division of labour in the organisations, therefore some women may be hesitant to enter these organisations, or might be critical of the organisations’ activities and refrain from being part of them altogether.
Starting from the discourse ‘there is gender equality in Alevism’, I aimed to understand the gender relations in a broader sense in the Alevi organisations. I conducted qualitative interviews with 31 women between April 2016 and January 2017 in Istanbul. The research sites were six Alevi organisations, which are very diverse in terms of the members’ social profile: two of them (Karacaahmet and Şahkulu) were large historical dergâh, 1 located centrally and which attracted people from all over Turkey; one was a cemevi founded in the 1990s and located in a left-wing neighbourhood (Okmeydanı); three were rather local and small in low socio-economic neighbourhoods (Uğur Mumcu, Alibeyköy and Nurtepe). I conducted 29 interviews within these organisations, one in a research participant’s home and one at a cafe in Taksim. The selection of the research participants was based on their roles in these organisations; initially, I had planned only to interview women on the administrative boards. After I noticed that there were actually very few women in these boards, I decided not to limit my sample in this manner and included women who were active in the organisations. This realisation also helped me rethink the notion of power in general, since power not only resides in administrative and managerial positions but is rather diffused across all social relations (Acker, 1990; Ferguson, 1984).
The academic and lay interest in Turkey’s Alevi community has been mostly based on research on Alevi men as conducted by men, yet is claimed to represent all Alevi people. This is clear in early studies on Alevism which were based on men’s research on Alevi men but claimed to represent all Alevi people, similar to Gutmann’s (1997) argument that ethnographies written by men on men have been represented in anthropology as though they represent general knowledge about that particular culture. The subjectivity of Alevi women has been either ignored or misrepresented due to the claims of gender equality within Alevi culture.
With this research, I aim to contribute to the literature on gender and Alevism by demonstrating that the equality discourse is largely accepted by women in the organisations, but that a critical attitude to the essentialist claims and to the gap between discourse and practice is also emerging. Whilst previous studies acknowledged the gap between discourse and practice regarding gender equality, they focussed on one aspect of this such as rural communities, organisations’ leaders or one specific organisation (Ata, 2018; Okan, 2018; Özmen, 2013). My contribution lies in the empirical insight gathered from several Alevi organisations where I talked to women from different ranks (or no rank at all) in order to grasp gender and power relations. I aim to do so without flattening complex identities which derive from not only being Alevi but also through interaction with complex factors such as geography, age, and socio-economic status.
Alevi mobilisation and visibility in urban areas
Alevi is an umbrella term that covers the heterodox belief communities of Anatolia and the Balkans that are characterised by mysticism, syncretism and heterodox practices. The Alevi faith has been influenced by Shamanism, Zoroastrianism, Christianity, and Islam (Okan, 2014; Sökefeld, 2008) and its morality is summarised as the duty to take responsibility for one’s hands, tongue, and loins, with those who fail to do so considered düşkün (fallen; Yaman, 2002). Alevi is a religious and cultural identity which cross-cuts ethnicities. Although both Turkish state authorities and some Alevi groups have tried to link Alevism with old Turkic tribes and Shamanism in pursuit of proving their ‘Turkishness’ (Birkalan-Gedik and Berktay, 2009; Markussen, 2005; Vorhoff, 1998), there are Kurdish and Arab Alevis as well.
Alevis are the second-largest belief community in Turkey after Sunni Muslims, and are estimated to constitute nearly 15% of the country’s population (Shankland and Cetin, 2005). Alevis mainly come from the rural areas of Central and Eastern Anatolia, but nowadays an increasing number of Alevis live in Turkey’s bigger cities. Alevis’ mixed gender rituals and non-adherence to certain Islamic religious practices has made them heretics in the eyes of the Sunni majority and thus subject to exclusion and persecution (Karakaya-Stump, 2018; Karolewski, 2008), resulting in their retreat to the remote mountainous areas of Anatolia. The secular Republic brought formal equality for its citizens, yet a state-controlled Sunni dominance continued with the Directorate of Religious Affairs, which is a state institution aimed at regulating religious affairs and which does not officially recognise the Alevis. Alevis largely welcomed the new regime; laicism and equality before law were important against discrimination and hostility so they traded visibility for formal equality (Dressler, 2010: 133).
As a result of rural to urban migration beginning in the 1950s, Alevi communities settled in the big cities of Turkey and in Europe. This has caused the breaking down of former communities and weakening of religious practice amongst the majority of Alevi people (Massicard, 2005; Sökefeld, 2008). The newly urbanised Alevis were either not able to practice their traditions in the big cities or had to do so covertly. Whilst Sunnis could attend any mosque or pray at home in urban centres, the situation was more complicated for Alevis. Their religious practices require communities that are connected to one another through ocak (holy clan) and a hierarchical relationship between the dede or pir (religious leader who is believed to descend from a holy lineage) and talip (his follower). Each talip is linked to a dede exerting social control through görgü (investigation), which means occasionally discussing matters of conflict such as land disputes, family issues, and personal problems. Since it was not possible to continue such a complex system in cosmopolitan areas, Alevi traditions weakened as a result of migration. In particular, cem 2 ceremonies could not be conducted regularly (in some communities they were entirely neglected) between 1950 and 1980.
In the post-1980s era, as identity politics became more prevalent in Turkish society, Alevis gained visibility in cities and adopted new forms of expressions for their identities (Poyraz, 2005). After settling in urban areas, Alevis finally started to establish their own places of worship and to practise their beliefs from the 1980s onwards. Nowadays cem participants are not necessarily people of the same ocak, but rather random Alevi people.
Traditionally, the cem ceremony was conducted in the largest available house/room in the rural Alevi community and this place would be called the cemevi (gathering house), whilst in the modern urban context cem is conducted in Alevi cultural centres which are organised as associations (dernek) or foundations (vakıf). These are modern constructs in urban areas and have been established to meet Alevi people’s needs such as prayer, funerals, solidarity, and socialising. Modern cemevi 3 is a building that contains a large room for conducting cem ceremonies, smaller rooms that can be used as classrooms for seminars and courses, and a kitchen and a food hall to eat and socialise.
Whilst some Alevis visit cemevi regularly, some go there only on special occasions such as funerals. Various different motivations attract people to cemevi such as religious rituals, community building or educational activities. I observed that it was mostly women and the elderly who go to cemevi to spend time with like-minded people. Many cemevi occasionally organise panels and seminars that are open to public (both Alevi and non-Alevi) as well as educational courses for low prices or for free, including literacy, handcrafts, and traditional Alevi music. Thirty-four per cent of my research participants said that they have attended a personal development course at the cemevi, whilst 24% said that they had attended an occupational course. The majority of those who attended any course reported that they benefitted from them. Sixty-five per cent of the participants visited cemevi once a week or more. Ten per cent shared their opinions with the administration all the time and 15% most of the time.
Every cemevi has an administrative board for management and organisation purposes. These boards consist of either five or seven people. In the six cemevi I visited during my research, the number of female board members varied between none and three, being 26% on average. Whilst cemevi visitors were mostly female, the administrative boards mostly consisted of men. The gender composition of the administrative boards prompted discussions on gender relations and participants’ opinions on gender equality.
Gender equality and Alevism
The argument about gender equality and the concept of can 4 are the defining characteristics of modern Alevi identity. In a predominantly Sunni Muslim culture, the less secluded Alevi women in daily life, and influential female figures in Alevi teaching and mixed-gender rituals contribute to the idea that Alevis are a gender egalitarian community.
Gender equality has been entirely central to defining the Alevi community in the modern context. Alevism is based on oral tradition and involves regional differences in rituals, so Alevis needed to consolidate their belief and practices in the modern urban context as an imagined community, despite regional differences. According to Markussen (2005), in this process, Alevism became known as facts rather than habitus and certain ideas about Alevism became consolidated as doxa, claims that go without saying, such as Alevism’s connections with Shamanism and the equality of sexes argument. Vorhoff (1998) also argued that the standardisation of Alevism made it available to larger masses yet turned certain aspects of it into issues of unquestionable authority.
In academia, the gender equality argument was either taken without criticism or researchers simply pointed out the relatively more relaxed gender relations and focussed on other issues such as recognition and political representation. Before the 1990s, academic studies on Alevism were limited. With the rise of the Alevi movement there has been an interest amongst researchers of both Alevi and non-Alevi origin in documenting the Alevi culture and people.
Birkalan-Gedik and Berktay (2009) argue that in the earlier studies, women’s state in Alevism was either romanticised or Alevi women’s relatively liberal and progressive lifestyles were used against them as a sign of loose morals. 5 The studies were conducted after the Alevi revival revealed the progressive aspects of Alevi women’s lives, such as being less secluded and more visible in daily life in comparison to Sunni women from comparable socio-cultural environments (Ayata, 1997; Erman, 1998; Gunes‐Ayata, 1992; Mandel, 1989).
There is a growing interest in the state of women in Alevi teaching and in Alevi communities since the 2000s, where these studies are critical to the gender equality claim. As both Karakaya-Stump (2018) and Raudvere (1998) have pointed out, religion is not the only factor to explaining the behaviour of its members, and that the members of a religion cannot be understood in isolation from the geography in which they are embedded. Patriarchal social structure and cultural norms significantly affect Alevi women’s lives.
Recent studies that consider women in the Alevi culture and community can be grouped into two categories: the first suggests that patriarchal attitudes prevail in the organisation of daily life, family relations, and institutions (Ata, 2018; Okan, 2018; Özmen, 2013). Özmen (2013), who conducted an empirical study in one Alevi organisation, one CHP women’s branch and amongst female Alevi university students, found that major differences exist between the theory and practice of gender equality in terms of economic, social and religious life, and that these realms are male dominated. Okan (2018) investigated a rural Alevi community, Anşa Bacılılar, and revealed that patriarchal values and practices dominate rural Alevi women’s daily lives, marriages, and inheritance rights. Ata’s (2018) study shows that although Alevi women socialise and help with housekeeping in the organisations, they are underrepresented at the administrative level.
The second group of studies on Alevism and gender situate Alevi women in a broader social setting and deal with the difference between theory and practice with regard to gender equality by paying closer attention to the social context (Karakaya-Stump, 2018; Kaya, 2018; Poyraz, 2018). Karakaya-Stump has studied the historical roots of orthodox and heterodox/mystic Islam and argues that Alevis’ mixed gender rituals openly oppose the rigid gender segregation within Islam, rejecting one of its important tenets. Whilst mainstream Islam holds women responsible for controlling their sexuality, Alevism holds both men and women responsible, and they use the concept of can, a gender-neutral term which connotes being free from one’s sexuality during religious ceremonies. Alevis, as a heterodox belief community who conduct ceremonies in mixed-gender settings, are discriminated against by referring to their sexuality and being accused of illicit sexual practices. Poyraz (2018) argues that after migration, Alevis in the urban context came into closer contact with Sunnis and experienced discrimination in everyday interactions more directly. To protect themselves from discrimination and to legitimise the lack of gender segregation, they emphasised the gender equality in their belief system. Poyraz (2018) argues that the discourse of equality in Alevi teaching was accepted as though it exists in daily life as well. Kaya (2018) looks into the Alevi opening, a failed attempt by the Turkish state to address the Alevi question. Seven workshops in 2009–2010 brought together state officials, representatives of the Alevi faith, academics and media, yet amongst their 301 participants, only 11 were women. According to Kaya (2018), this shows that the AKP government had a patriarchal attitude and regarded Alevi men as the community’s representatives.
The concept of ‘can’ calls for a discussion of sex and gender concepts. West and Zimmerman (1987) challenged the differentiation and argued that it long assumed that gender is constructed whilst sex is natural and unproblematic; however, sex is usually congruent with the sex category as people tend to deduce one’s sex from sex category, the outer display of body (clothes, tone of voice, facial hair, etc., which is not always straightforward). Gender, on the other hand, ‘is a powerful ideological device, which produces, reproduces, and legitimates the choices and limits that are predicated on sex category’ (West and Zimmerman, 1987). Subsequently, Butler (1990) also challenged this differentiation, suggesting that it leads us to believe that sex is a core essence found in men and women which is natural and politically neutral, and she refused the difference altogether.
Another relevant aspect of gender with regard to Alevi women is the concept of intersectionality, since Alevi men are regarded as the ultimate Alevi subject, leaving Alevi women in the blind spot. Intersectionality is a ‘matrix of domination’ where all identities interact with each other and create life situations that are qualitatively different depending on one’s location in the matrix (Collins, 1990). In the absence of an intersectional perspective, we assume the maleness/whiteness, etc., of the entire social group that we study (Risman, 2004) and this affects the visibility of the less powerful groups (Warner, 2008: 462).
The ‘can’ concept in Alevism is sexless and the idea is to treat everyone as equal human beings. It both equalises and renders invisible the differences between men and women, at least on a discursive level.
Visibility, modernisation, and Alevi women
Gender and women’s public visibility is a significant component of modernisation projects (Göle, 2002; Kandiyoti and Kandiyoti, 1987). In the early Republican era in Turkey, this was not only important but also inevitable as a result of consecutive wars and the loss of the young, urbanite and educated male population (Kandiyoti and Kandiyoti, 1987). A new regulation of gender relations and public and private distinction was central to Turkish modernity.
Within the modern/traditional axis, Alevis position themselves on the side of the modern: as ‘enlightened’ (aydın) and ‘progressive’ (ilerici), in opposition to ‘ignorant’ (cahil), ‘bigot’ (yobaz), and ‘reactionary’ (gerici). The Alevi movement in the post-1980s actively positioned itself against the rising political Islam; their claim of being egalitarian and compatible with modernity has therefore been central to the construction of their identity. The leaders of the Alevi movement argued that gender equality is ingrained in their belief system and contrary practices result from assimilation and cultural erosion.
My research participants also claimed that their traditional belief system embraces gender equality. They argued that despite the legal arrangements, women in Turkey still do not enjoy equality. My research participant Belkıs and I talked in a new, small cemevi
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that offers services in the basement of a municipality’s community centre. Belkıs is in her mid-forties, and is a housewife with two children. As we were discussing women’s problems in Turkey, she compared the current situation with the Ottoman era, which is associated with practices that degrade women such as polygamy, physical and sexual violence, and limiting women’s public rights. In her narrative, the Ottoman past is selectively used whilst discussing the situation of women; it is associated with Islamic law and the oppression of women. Her words are exemplary of the modernist narrative about women’s emancipation through the Republic: Well, I think women’s biggest problem is being treated as second class citizens. Still it is like … Women are seen as inferior, weaker and less capable than men. Just like in the Ottoman … They counted even the animals but excluded women in population census, but they found different excuses for this: to find out the ratio of soldiers, but it’s not because of that. What are women? Commodities that men can purchase. In our day it is not like this, there is no doubt that it is not like this in Atatürk’s Republic. We all love Atatürk very much; I think all women should. But as I said still there are many shortcomings. Still women are way behind men. As a society I think we did not manage this very well. (Interview 15)
When I asked Meral about the gender ratio in the administration of Alevi organisations, she complained about women’s underrepresentation and blamed women for this; she suggested that women in Turkey are becoming more passive as a result of conservative trends. She said: Unfortunately, although women were more active in the first years of the Republic, although we achieved everything 20–30 years earlier than many developed countries thanks to Atatürk, today we have nothing, and it is getting more and more backward. (Interview 5) Reyhan: I wish the rest (of society) should take us as an example, then the problem would be solved. Such things would never happen in us (our culture). In the past it used to be ever tougher than it is now. For instance, someone said something to a woman, the dede would put him on trial in front of everybody. He would have to repent and would never dare to do the same thing again. [Belkıs interrupts:] Belkıs: Nowadays the sanctions are like … People don’t have any shame. It is so shameful. Imagine you live in a village, everyone knows one another. You are a young man, you make a rude remark about someone, she complains about you because she was disturbed by this. Imagine, they put you on trial in front of everybody and you have to accept the punishment the dede gives you. You would feel isolated, even your family would be affected by this. It is a shameful situation. Nowadays we are surprised by the punishments to rapists, which are almost like rewards. (Interview 14) In our society there is no gender discrimination, everybody is ‘can’.
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We regard people as ‘can’. Women are even more important. My mother used to tell us that in the village when there was a big fight, like serious fights, an old grandmother would throw her scarf in the middle of the fight and the fight would be over. Because the scarf was so holy. Because it belongs to Fatma Ana,
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Muhammed’s daughter and Ali’s wife, with that belief and respect they would end the fight. Even if they are at daggers drawn, they would leave everything for her sake and even cry. Because an old and precious person threw her scarf to the ground with her name, so that the fight would end. (Interview 30) Alevi women are more free, I can definitely say that, this is clear. At home I look after two sick people, my mother … Today it is not my workday, I don’t have to be here but there is no obligation like ‘you cannot go out’. We are more free. There are no limitations from our men. (Interview 20)
Throughout the research, I questioned the discourse ‘there is gender equality in Alevism’ and tried to grasp how and why people so keenly held on to this concept. I have observed that Alevi women are visible in the faith system and in cemevi, share their opinions with the administration, are encouraged to gain an education. Yet patriarchal relations and women’s problems continue. When I approach the gender equality argument critically, I do not mean to suggest that women are suffering from ‘false consciousness’; I rather aim to grasp why it has been so persistent.
The research participants’ narratives reveal that in a patriarchal world, women hold on to the discourse that would give them the chance to bargain with the patriarchy and push for more rights and representation. They can use the equality discourse to demand liberties that affect their everyday lives such as through travelling, having a say in family matters, being able to educate their daughters as well as their sons, and taking up paid or volunteer work. In addition, it allows Alevi women to assert a positive group image; when Alevism is linked with gender equality, simply identification with Alevism becomes empowering for women and a shield against discrimination.
Lack of spatial segregation: Cem ceremony and equality
As physical spaces are socially constructed, gender and space are closely linked. Islam is a very body-sensitive religion (Raudvere, 1998) and the organisation of spaces is highly disciplined and gendered in Muslim societies (Göle, 2002), Therefore, women’s public visibility is a crucial component of modernisation in these societies. Najmabadi (2006) argued that modernists blamed gender segregation practices in Islam as a cause of unnatural sexualities, thus they argued for unveiling and heterosociality from a heteronormative perspective. Generally, modernists regarded veiling as a tool for oppressing women, although some modernists did not defend unveiling but rather focussed on women’s education and establishing rule of law (Najmabadi, 2006). As modernisation prevailed, it created public spaces occupied by both men and women and ‘the modern gendered subject has been constituted through women role models and repetitive performances, including language styles, dress codes, modes of habitation, and modes of address’ (Göle, 2002: 177).
As non-Alevi researchers observed, Alevis do not have strict codes of gender segregation; Alevi men and women work side by side and women are not excluded from public spaces (Mandel, 1989; Shankland, 2003; Sökefeld, 2008). Alevis regard the lack of spatial segregation in their culture as indicative of having more egalitarian gender relations than Sunnis. Conducting rituals and social gatherings in mixed-gender settings has been both a source of pride for Alevi community, as evidence of equality, and something to be explained through the genderless concept of ‘can’.
Research participants report that men and women sit in the same room during cem unlike in mosques, where men and women are secluded, and women cover their hair. Despite the emphasis on lack of gender segregation, in most of the cemevi that I visited, men and women sit on the different sides of the same room, although sitting side by side is not necessarily forbidden. This is justified by the fact that in urban cem, people are anonymous. A research participant, Elif, who has been living in Istanbul for over 50 years, explained the difference between rural and urban cem. I met her at one of the large historical cemevi in Istanbul and she helped me find research participants as well as agreeing to do an interview. She is in her 60s, and is a housewife with two children. She explained how the ceremony’s participants have changed, whilst she implied they observe proper sexual conduct during the ceremony: Well now, when we left our hometown, we were little. I was a child, so we did not do much. I was nine. Therefore, I did not participate (in cem). But in our (culture) men and women would sit side by side. Women did not sit at the back row. We were living in the village and everyone was family. So, it was okay when people sat side by side or if they touched accidentally. In big cities we have to make people sit at separate places. Nevertheless, our prayer is completely becoming one with God, so we never think of anything else. So, we just focus on the prayer. (Interview 7) Women and men sit mixed. Because we are can (soul), when we pray, we kiss each other’s shoulders. As a symbol of siblinghood
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we hold each other’s back. It is the symbol of being siblings, being can. Women and men turn semah
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as equals, they are siblings. Well, not everyone but… Such bigot people say things against our cem … It’s the opposite … [Somebody interrupts: They have to come and see for themselves …] They have to see. We have such a delicate, righteous and just path. Even we Alevis are not capable of following it exactly. We have a path with such a beautiful holy light. There is always justice in it. There is gender equality. (Interview 30)
Women’s dress code, especially the headscarf, holds an important place in the debates regarding modernity, in-group identity and its presentation to outside. Most of the young Alevi people regard the headscarf as traditional, anti-modern and an imposition on women. Young and urbanite Alevi women usually do not cover their hair. Whilst the elderly Alevi women cover only a part of their heads, women who dress according to the mainstream Islamic dress code cover all their hair and neck. Wearing a headscarf is associated with mainstream Islam and/or rural dress code. When Alevi women are in a minority in a conservative neighbourhood, they may feel the pressure to dress modestly and even cover their hair. A research participant, Şenay, whom I met in a historical cemevi in the Anatolian side of Istanbul, discusses this at length. She is in her late 50s and she was born in Sivas but grew up in Istanbul; she has a university degree, is retired from civil service and has one child. She discussed women’s problems in general and Alevis’ specific problems due to the threat of assimilation: What upsets me the most is this thing they call ‘assimilation’… I think this even affects our community. A: Did you get this impression from the women that you see here? S: No, in society. I mean when we go out, we began to become a minority. Sometimes I look around and a woman begins to cover her head. I ask her about it, she says ‘now this place is like this, I feel uncomfortable’. She begins to wear a headscarf. So (society) begins to cover her, influences her. (Interview 6) We gradually began to get over the headscarf, because people are supposed to come (here) as they are. When they come here … All right, when I first came here, I was very young, and I was told to cover my hair and they covered my hair. Or older people were doing this, I saw this, and I thought I should do so as well. But now, all right, there are some things that we should pay attention in terms of dress code, but the headscarf is not an obligation. As to the clothing … It is the clothes that are appropriate for the setting. Not shorts but trousers, a loose pair of trousers. It is all right when you dress modestly. In our cems we are over many things, like the headscarf and novelties. Although it is strange for the public at first, they began to like these. Or after a while they are no longer able to object. (Interview 28) You may believe or you may not, you may believe and practice or not. I have a couple of friends, I don’t say everybody, I am talking about a few people particularly; according to them, people should pray salah five times a day. She would say this to me because I am Alevi, she has to criticise me this way. She says this to me, but she has never ever prayed salah in her entire life. Actually, she is saying this: ‘A non-covering Muslim has to pray salah.’ ‘But I am Alevi?’ ‘Yes, so you have to pray salah.’ ‘Do you pray salah?’ ‘Well I don’t’. But why? Because she is Sunni, that name is enough for her. I am Alevi, I carry this name, therefore when I don’t pray, it means I am an infidel. She is Sunni so it is alright if she doesn’t pray. (Interview 16) The phrase ‘Alevi women are free’ is not a positive thing, it means you can sleep with them easily. Alevi men oppose this by saying that their women are modest, by restricting women, by restricting how they dress, by intervening in their right to work, intervening in how they spend their wages, etc. (Interview 31)
Institutional power in the Alevi organisations
Alevi cultural centres offer many educational and cultural activities in addition to faith-based services, so there is the potential for empowerment of women. Empowerment is conceptualised as the radical social transformation of socially and culturally disadvantaged groups and is linked to the concept of power (Beteille, 1999). Although power was initially understood in terms of coercion and force, today different aspects of power are elaborated such as power to, power with, and power within, which are related to decision-making, social and political mobilisation, and personal development, respectively (Oxaal and Baden, 1997; Rowlands, 1998). Empowerment entails interpersonal relations and it is a collective process (Carr, 2003), so that it includes not only institutional power but also power being exercised within interpersonal relations with the aim of social transformation.
Alevi cultural centres do not place official limitations on women’s official representation, but nevertheless men predominate on the administrative boards except for one cemevi board which had an almost equal number of men (4) and women (3). Whilst some research participants argued that the numbers were irrelevant since men and women are equal in Alevism and the flexible organisational structure allows everyone to speak their minds, most argued that female underrepresentation is a problem. They also have different explanations as to why there are few women in administrative positions. One argument was women’s lack of ambition and self-confidence. For instance, Hale, who is working in a large cemevi as a secretary, explains why there are few women in the administrations. She believes that Alevi women with a higher education do not prefer to spend time in the cemevi, which is consistent with the findings of Ata (2018) who argues that the Alevi identity is secondary for the highly educated Alevi women and that they do not prefer to socialise in cemevi. Those women with a lower education do visit the cemevi but hesitate to take up administrative duties. Being involved in such duties is mainly about power within, in terms of building up confidence in women: If there are more women in the administration, of course it is better, because women are productive. I think women are also superior mentally, they can get more things done but now in our community, Alevi women … there is this reality, they do not get an education. They do not develop themselves, there are few university graduates. In addition, there are pressures that come from the family, and unfortunately women lack self-confidence. Therefore, they do not come to these kinds of places. They do not take on any administrative tasks. (Interview 8) Let me tell you something, men want women to be involved but women should make an effort, take a step. They should say ‘I am here too’. They should be active … You must work, give your heart to the lodge. You must deserve the food you eat here. It is not just coming here and going. You must work. (Interview 11)
Few others were critical of the organisational structures and the overall influence of patriarchy on women. Nimet has witnessed the foundation of several hometown associations and cemevi founded by Alevis. She is in her 50s and has a primary school education, yet is an autodidact who constantly reads. Her father was involved in a Sufi path and she was very much influenced by her parents, both of whom were ‘wise people’, as she describes them. She was mainly critical of women’s situation in organisations: My father had a clear position due to the education he got from the religious order, from urban Islam. There was no hypocrisy, my father already thought like this and he spoke like this. Even if he did not directly say it, he believed women do not have to be active everywhere, he gave this to us with his manners. There was no hypocrisy. What I actually object to is this: ‘we are Alevi, we are democratic, we treat women equally’ but they don’t practice it. (…) Women’s position in Alevism is just like it is in the rest of society. This is not about this order or that sect, it is connected to the Middle Eastern mentality of Turkish society. Here I am bothered by the fact that Alevis are hypocrites. (Interview 10) First of all, Alevis should go back to their essence, they should learn more about women in Alevism (…). The fact that we pray in the same place does not necessarily mean we are equal. We have a social rank called ‘analık’, we have ana. Previously dede and ana used to sit side by side during the cem, they would sit together regardless of who led the ceremony. Now there is no ana. (Interview 27) Poetically we have such nice discourse, but the practice is different. If these things are discussed, if there was a survey that showed that Sunni men commit more violence, it would still not mean that Alevi women are not beaten. We should talk about these things, express that it is wrong. Even if it is 1%, it should be ended. (Interview 27) N: First of all, women should be taught about the awareness of being a woman, they should become aware of that. The society should too. I mean affirmative action … I am not against it. A: So like quotas in parties? In workplaces? N: I am definitely against quota. Previously I volunteered in a party, I was against quota there too. These kinds of limitations do not suit Republican women. Women should struggle and get it. A: You said affirmative action, therefore I asked what kind of affirmative action? N: Well, for instance, if our women are working somewhere and they are wives at home. This should be considered, and their labour has to be valued double. This is what I mean. I do not mean feminism or the kind of affirmative action that they promote. (Interview 5) Housewives, they usually socialise with their extended families and neighbours, they stay closed. They cannot open up to the world. Since I believe that these places should open them the most, we should serve towards opening up all women who come here. We are already in the kitchen; housewives are already in the kitchen. I think that our responsibility here should not be the kitchen. (Interview 6) Women should leave the kitchens; they should not enter the kitchens. They should be more in the administrations, socialise, participate in panels and seminars, spare more time for reading. They should cut ribbons in official ceremonies. They should stay away from the ribbons in their daughters’ hair and approach official ceremonies’ ribbons. (Interview 31)
Conclusion
In this article, I analysed how the gender equality discourse is used by women in Alevi organisations. I aimed to go beyond the essentialising argument of gender equality in Alevism and grasp how women use this discourse and how gender relations operate in Alevi organisations. Progressive and modernist ideals and formal equality constitute the general framework in which gender relations operate; however, Alevi women manifest their opinions about gender equality in multiple ways. Identities are shaped socially, and they are not constructed once and for all; Alevis use several elements including the modernist discourse, Alevism’s own cultural repertoire, and the experienced or mediated images of Sunnis in expressing their identity as Alevi woman.
Research participants differentiated between the notion of gender equality in Alevism and gender relations in everyday practices. Most women made a conscious effort to differentiate between Alevi teaching and everyday practices, and even the most critical research participants agree that Alevism incorporates gender equality. The lack of strict spatial segregation has been discussed as evidence of gender equality and compatibility with modernity. The Sunni majority’s prejudices have caused Alevis to develop self-imposed moral codes which involve being modest whilst embracing a modern lifestyle. Alevi women suffer from this prejudice twice: they are accused of immorality whilst self-imposed morality limits their everyday lives.
Although institutional power is important with regard to gender equality, it is not the only form of power. Gender equality in the organisations is not limited to the official status that people fill; women’s contributions to the organisations and sharing their opinions with their administrations are also empowering for them. Women’s branches aim to enhance women’s self-development and socialisation by supporting their participation in public life, yet they may reproduce existing gender asymmetries by promoting events that are associated with existing gender roles. Hence, it is crucial to transform not only institutional representation but also the culture within these institutions to achieve gender equality at all levels.
Women in Alevi organisations build their identities and shape their opinions on gender in a plurality; therefore it would be limiting to imagine them only as Alevi and women. The plurality of their experiences should be taken into account to better grasp why and how they use the equality discourse. Their socio-economic status, age, location, level of education, and interaction with other institutions all contribute to this plurality. Therefore, the research findings confirm the idea that social identities should not be flattened but rather understood within the given social context and its complexity (Karakaya-Stump, 2018; Raudvere, 1998; Shankland, 2010).
Alevi women acknowledge that there is a gap between discourse and practice within their community, yet the ‘there is gender equality in Alevism’ argument is empowering for them. Studies on social group dynamics show that both on a global level and within national policies, gender equality is being used to create and maintain social boundaries, enforcing a hierarchy between the global North and global South (Bygnes, 2012); and between host society and immigrant groups (Duemmler et al., 2010; Onasch`, 2017) at the expense of the latter. In the Alevis’ case, the use of such discourse helps them draw social boundaries with Sunni women whom they perceive as being oppressed by men, and it gives legitimacy to their claims of rights and liberties. It is more important to ask why they embrace this argument rather than if they are really more liberated or not, as it gives them a legitimate claim to demand further participation.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
