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The Danger of “Othering”

In the novel Home Fire by Kamila Shamsie and literature reviews of works by Nawal El

Saadawi, Western hegemony and how it views the peoples and cultures of Eastern countries as

“other”—separate, different, and lesser than the West—is abundantly clear. Kamila Shamsie and

El Saadawi both challenge stereotypes in their writing, aiming to show just how deep the idea of

“othering” runs in countries that claim to be progressive and inclusive. Home Fire, published in

2017 and set mostly in Britain, is told from five different points of view. Isma, Aneeka, and

Parvais are Pakistani-British citizens who are under constant surveillance by the government and

subjected to clearly Islamophobic questioning. Karamat Lone is a Muslim politician with a

Pakistani background who does not acknowledge that background. He has assimilated to British

culture and encourages his fellow Muslims to become more British, claiming that they miss out

on what the “multiethnic, multireligious, multitudinous” United Kingdom offers because they

“insist on [their] difference from everyone else” (Shamsie 90). Eamonn Lone, Karamat’s son, is

often caught in the middle. He knows little about his Pakistani roots. Like Shamsie, El Saadawi’s

writings reflect her opinion on how much of the West views Islam and Muslims as either

dangerous or exotic and how that leads to problems. Literary works like those of Kamila

Shamsie and Nawal El Saadawi seek to show why the concept of “the other” is problematic and

should not be overlooked.

The concept of “othering” is a postcolonial idea that illustrates the Western perspective

on other peoples and cultures. Othering can be explained by Edward Said’s theory of orientalism.

In his book Orientalism, he writes that it “can be discussed and analyzed as the corporate

institution for dealing with the Orient—dealing with it by making statements about it,

authorizing views of it, describing it, by teaching it, settling it, ruling over it: in short,
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Orientalism as a Western style for dominating, restructuring, and having authority over the

Orient” (11). In Shehla Burney’s book Pedagogy of the Other: Edward Said, Postcolonial

Theory, and Strategies for Critique (Counterpoints), she notes that the East and the West have

been categorized as two separate entities throughout history. Burney writes that Orientalism aims

to reveal the “underlying structures of power, knowledge, hegemony, culture, and imperialism

that have been historically embedded in…colonial discourse—a discourse that presents the

Orient as Other” (23). These dynamics of power have created a deeply ingrained concept in

which people in the West are viewed as “normal” and “ordinary” while those in the East are

viewed as “dangerous” or “exotic.”

Amal Amireh’s evaluation of The Hidden Face of Eve by Nawal El Saadawi shows how

the West exoticizes and sexualizes women while believing that they are also oppressed and

inferior to those in the West. In her article “Framing El Saadawi: Arab Feminism in a

Transnational World,” Amireh argues that “El Saadawi and her feminist works are consumed by

a Western audience in a context saturated by stereotypes of Arab culture” (215). Because of this

Western audience and context, El Saadawi’s writings have been reduced to “first-world

narratives about Arab women’s oppression” (Amireh 215). Some common stereotypical ideas of

the East include sensuality, splendor, depravity, and exoticness. Women are represented as

“weak, as feminized, as exotic, mysterious, sensual and sexual, as something to be desired and to

be possessed” (Burney 34). El Saadawi’s book Al-Wajh al-ari lil-mar’a al-arabiyyah or The

Hidden Face of Eve: Women in the Arab World in English, is a prime example of the

Westernization of Arab women and how they are viewed as the exotic and oppressed “other.”

El Saadawi writes about clitoridectomy in The Hidden Face of Eve along with other

topics such as education, health, and employment, but since clitoridectomy was a main interest
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of Western feminists, that’s what they chose to focus on (Amireh 220). El Saadawi argues that

the practice is seen as barbaric and a sign of oppression in African and Arab countries, and that

“Western feminists’ concentration on female circumcision diverts attention from ‘real issues of

social and economic change’” (Amireh 221). El Saadawi also writes from the viewpoint of a

majority and not just her as a single person taking a stand. However, Western media often

portrays her as a lone victim speaking out against these issues. Another important factor that

affected the release of her book is the fact that it coincided with the Iranian Revolution, which

renewed the West’s fear of Islam. It should be no surprise, then, that critics would look for things

in The Hidden Face of Eve that spoke of oppression, support of Islam, or feminism. From the

Western perspective, these subjects could be reorganized to conform to a Western, first-world

narrative and reaffirm Western stereotypes of Arab culture. El Saadawi’s goal is to reject “the

Western paradigm, inspired by hostility to Islam, that sees religion as the primary reason for the

inferior status of Arab women” and to “defend Islam against Western misrepresentations”

(Amireh 223-4). Unfortunately, the English edition of The Hidden Face of Eve reveals just how

much of the context behind her writing is changed in the translation to fit the Western

sexualization of Arab women and the idea that Arab women are oppressed.

In the English edition of The Hidden Face of Eve, chapters of the book are both added

and taken out. The English edition omits sections where El Saadawi critiques capitalism in favor

of socialism. It also omits passages where El Saadawi writes about how much progress Arab

women have made and how Arab women are ahead of American and European women in their

fight for equality. El Saadawi asserts that “it is important that Arab women should not feel

inferior to Western women, or think that the Arabic tradition and culture are more oppressive of

women than Western culture,” but the English edition does not include that part (Amireh 224-5).
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A bigger issue is the chapters that the English edition added. There are suggestively titled

chapters, including a chapter titled “The Grandfather with Bad Manners.” There’s also a chapter

titled “Circumcision of Girls” but El Saadawi only mentions circumcision in the opening of the

original book. Additionally, the whole first half of the English edition is titled “The Mutilated

Half,” which is not in the original edition (Amireh 225). In the original edition, El Saadawi

writes first about the history of Arab women and then writes about sexuality, but in the English

edition, this is reversed. Amireh states that the reorganization of El Saadawi’s work emphasizes

sexuality when the main focus should be on its historical context, and that this is “an

arrangement more suitable for a Western audience less interested in history than in satisfying an

insatiable appetite for an exotic and oppressed ‘other’” (226). Viewing Arab women as “other” is

to discredit their achievements and progression. Believing them to be oppressed or to sexualize

them is to disrespect their religion, culture, and tradition. It is important to remember that

historical context is a very important factor that often gets overlooked.

The exotic or oppressed “other” is not the only type of othering evident in Western

society. Sometimes the “other” is viewed as dangerous, such as in Kamila Shamsie’s novel Home

Fire. In her article “Transforming the Ich-Du to the Ich-Es: The Migrant as ‘Terrorist’ in Kabir

Khan’s New York and Kamila Shamsie’s Home Fire,” Minu Susan Koshy states that Shamsie’s

novel engages “with an issue that has always haunted and continues to haunt the Western

imaginary even today—the ‘danger’ posed by the ‘Asian Other,’ especially a Muslim subject

from the ‘exotic, yet dangerous’ East” (98-9). Parvaiz, Aneeka, and Isma are all scrutinized by

the British government at varying levels—the government is cautious of them, treating them as

possible threats. Isma misses a flight because she’s interrogated in an airport by officers who

make racist and offensive comments and assumptions about who she is. Aneeka and Parvaiz are
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stopped and searched on the streets for no reason other than the fact that they are Muslim and are

perceived as a potential threat to the stability and safety of Britain. When Parvaiz joins ISIS, the

government treats him as a terrorist, and some of the backlash falls on Aneeka and Isma, his two

sisters. The three of them are treated like they don’t belong in Britain, even though that is their

country and their home. They identify as British citizens, but the state illustrates a deep mistrust

of their loyalty. Parvaiz, Isma, and Aneeka “are not ‘confronted’ as persons, but rather

experienced as ‘objects’ of terror” (Koshy 100). This Islamophobia and treating them as a

“dangerous other” only intensifies when Parvaiz joins ISIS.

Parvaiz is dramatically turned into the “dangerous other” by the state despite the fact that

he realizes he does not want to be there any longer and wants to come home. He joined in the

first place because he does not like the way the state treats him or his fellow Muslims. Moreover,

he finds a good listener in Farooq, the man who recruits him, who also tells him about his father

(a jihadi who died en route to Guantanamo Bay). Parvaiz feels like he does not belong anywhere

and is being denied a homeland by the state due to their treatment of him as a threat. Eventually,

he does try to return to Britain but is hindered at every turn. He ends up dying in a drive-by

shooting outside the British consulate in Istanbul. Karamat Lone, the Home Secretary, refuses to

let Parvaiz’s body back into Britain much to the anguish of Aneeka, Parvaiz’s twin. Lone says,

“We will not let those who turn against the soil of Britain in their lifetime sully that very soil in

death” (Shamsie 193). The media portrays Parvaiz as a terrorist who was going to attack the

British consulate, which only adds to the othering of Muslims and turns them into villains.

Even fellow Muslims who have assimilated into British culture turn against Parvaiz, with

one person telling reporters, “My daughter was tricked into going [to ISIS] by the lies and

propaganda of men such as Parvaiz Pasha. My only disagreement with the Home Secretary’s
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decision is that it deprives me of the chance to spit on the terrorist’s grave” (Shamsie 205). To

further the Islamophobia even more, the Home Office is going to add a clause to the Immigration

Bill that will make it possible “to strip any British passport holders of their citizenship in cases

where they have acted against the vital interests of the UK” (Shamsie 205). So if the government

even thinks that someone could pose a threat, they have the power to take away that person’s

citizenship. Karamat Lone adds, “Citizenship is a privilege, not a right or birthright” (Shamsie

206). The vilification of Parvaiz continues as people reveal their prejudice and bias and reporters

churn out article after article. One of Parvaiz’s former classmates says in an article that Parvaiz

obviously “thought jihad was something to boast about when he was still just a little kid”

(Shamsie 210). That same article concludes with the statement, “It’s a cause of profound concern

that the children of jihadis, many of them British-born, are not closely watched by the state. How

many more Parvaiz Pashas will it take for things to change?” (Shamsie 211).

It is the state, however, that has failed Parvaiz. The government kept him under constant

surveillance, and “rather than ensuring that the child of the ‘terrorist’ is provided adequate

psychological care and education, the state attempts to suppress him, which ultimately results in

rebellion against the state” (Koshy 103). Claire Chambers writes in her article “Sound and Fury:

Kamila Shamsie’s Home Fire” that it is important to “listen to—while simultaneously refusing to

condone—jihadists” (202). Chambers acknowledges that while terrorism does exist and action

needs to be taken, the stereotype of Muslim men being violent and obsessed with death is

incorrect. Shamsie makes it clear in Home Fire that “racism and the ‘Islamophobia industry’

contribute significantly to such characters’ actions” (Chambers 208). The “othering” that Parvaiz

experiences is what leads him to join ISIS, because it was there that he initially felt like he was

welcomed, he was wanted, he belonged there, whereas in Britain he was seen as an outsider. The
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idea of the “dangerous other” is exemplified further when Karamat Lone refuses to allow

Parvaiz’s body back into Britain, which Parvaiz considers home right before his death. Home

Fire clearly emphasizes the issue of Islamophobia in Western society and the devastating effects

it can have on that group of people.

Both Home Fire by Kamila Shamsie and literature by El Saadawi show how harmful the

Western stereotypes of the exotic, oppressed, and dangerous “other” can be. In The Hidden Face

of Eve, the use of the “exotic and oppressed other” takes away from the accomplishments and

historical background of Arab women that El Saadawi was trying to emphasize. Instead, the

West focuses on Arab women’s sexuality and oppression. In Home Fire, Parvaiz’s treatment as a

“dangerous other” by the British government drove Parvaiz to join ISIS in the hopes of finding

somewhere he belonged, which ultimately led to his death. As society continues to progress, it is

imperative that world governments do not fall into the trap of “othering” those who do not

conform to their rules and standards, and to treat people from all backgrounds with respect.
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Works Cited

Amireh, Amal. “Framing Nawal El Saadawi: Arab Feminism in a Transnational World.” Signs:

Journal of Women in Culture & Society, vol. 26, no. 1, Sept. 2000, p.

215-249. EBSCOhost, https://doi.org/10.1086/495572.

Burney, Shehla. “Chapter One: Orientalism: The Making of the Other.” Counterpoints, vol. 417,

2012, pp. 23–39, http://www.jstor.org/stable/42981698.

Chambers, Claire. “Sound and Fury: Kamila Shamsie’s Home Fire.” Massachusetts Review, vol.

59, no. 2, Summer 2018, pp. 202–19. EBSCOhost,

https://doi.org/10.1353/mar.2018.0029.

Koshy, Minu Susan. “Transforming the Ich-Du to the Ich-Es: The Migrant as ‘Terrorist’ in Kabir

Khan’s New York and Kamila Shamsie’s Home Fire.” Text Matters, vol. 11, no. 11, Nov.

2021, pp. 97–105. EBSCOhost, https://doi.org/10.18778/2083-2931.11.07.

Said, Edward W. “Introduction to Orientalism.” Orientalism. London, Routledge & Kegan Paul

Ltd., 1978.

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Shamsie, Kamila. Home Fire. New York, Riverhead Books, 2017.