Laila Lalami’s The Moor’s Account through a Feminist Lens: Of Gender, Violence and Resistance
Awatef El Idrissi Boukhris
Paris Nanterre University
France
Abstract: This research paper
aims to analyse Laila Lalami’s The
Moor’s Account through the prism of feminist theories. Building on
Michael Kimmel, Juliet Mitchell, and Judith Butler’s theories, this study
explores how the novel questions gender roles, gender based-violence,
patriarchal power dynamics, and the marginalisation of women in colonial
contexts. It examines how gender is socially constructed, performed, and
weaponized through institutions such as slavery, colonialism, and war. By
giving room for female perspectives to emerge in the novel through the
protagonist’s narration and portraying women as active agents of resistance,
survival, resilience, and moral guidance, Lalami disrupts the hegemonic
colonial discourses along with the patriarchal ones. This analysis, then,
centers on the female figures mentioned in the novel, showing how The Moor’s Account reclaims these
silenced voices while exposing the gendered dimensions of oppression and
resistance. Therefore, by criticising hegemonic masculinity and portraying
alternative relationships based on empathy and equality, the rewriting of
history in The Moor’s Account proves
to be not just a means of postcolonial reconstruction but a powerful feminist
intervention in historical fiction.
Keywords: Historical fiction,
Subaltern voices, Postcolonial feminism, Female agency, Masculinity,
Gender-based violence
Introduction
Moroccan-American Laila Lalami is
one of those Arab-American emerging voices who speak on borders, migration, and
Arab and Muslim diasporic experiences. She was born in Rabat, Morocco. After a
bachelor’s degree in Morocco, she went to the UK for a Master’s degree, then
moved to Los Angeles to do a PhD in Linguistics. She is now a professor of
creative writing at the University of California, Riverside, a novelist, and an
essayist. Lalami’s books have won many awards and ended up on many bestseller
lists, among which is her Pulitzer finalist novel, The Moor’s Account (2014).
The Moor’s Account is the fictitious
memoirs of Mustafa al-Zamori, a genuine Moorish slave known as Estebanico, who
is considered the first black explorer of what is now the US Southwest, yet was
not given much credit in the official accounts because of his status. Along with
his master, Andrés Dorantes, Estebanico sets sail for the Americas on an
expedition to Florida under the command of Pánfilo de Narváez. However, as soon
as the men touched down, they went through a series of hardships ranging from
malnutrition, disease, and resistance from the natives. After a year, just four
members of the 600-man crew of the Narvaez expedition remained alive: Álvar
Núñez Cabeza de Vaca, the treasurer; Alonso del Castillo Maldonado, a nobleman;
Andrés Dorantes de Carranza, an explorer; and his enslaved Moor Estebanico de
Azamor. Upon his return to Spain in 1537, Cabeza de Vaca wrote an account of
the failed Narváez expedition and of his travels in the New World. In
1542, it was published under the name of La relacion y comentarios del gobernador
Aluar Nuñez Cabeca de Vaca. It is the first recorded account of North
America. Despite Estebanico’s effective contribution to the expedition and the
important role he played in his companions’ survival, Cabeza de Vacadevoted only one line
in his book to the man who shared with him eight years of exile: “The fourth
[survivor] is Estevanico, an Arab negro from Azamor.”
To restore the voice of
Estebanico de Azamor, Lalami gives him the name of Mustafa al-Zamori, who in
the novel was initially an Azemmur-based trader forced to sell himself into
slavery to keep his family from going hungry when the town was taken over by
the Portuguese and famine swept through the area. Mustafa, who was forcibly
baptised and converted to Catholicism, tries to juggle his identity in The New
World, a foreign place full of strangers and dangers at every turn (Bohamra).
In his narration, Mustafa not only describes Amerindians, tribes, traditions,
and rituals, but also the survival strategies that kept him and the other Castilians
alive, along with the brutality of both the colonizers and the colonized.
Feminist Rewriting of the Archive
The
Moor’s Account is a profound narrative that not only
interrogates colonialism and history but also gender and the social
construction of identity, which makes it a feminist novel par excellence. In her attempt to
rewrite the story of Estebanico, Lalami not only writes back to the empire by
bringing to the forefront silenced groups like slaves and native Americans, but
also to patriarchy and male dominance by devoting space to
female voices to be heard.As Martínez wittily
puts it: “Lalami’s revisionist passion leads her to invent characters to
feminize what has always been an overwhelmingly ‘manly’ tale of musky,
musket-bearing dudes.” So, to give a more detailed picture of history, she made
room for female characters thus allowing for new interpretations and meanings of
traditional, patriarchal writing. Additionally, Lalami challenges Cabeza de
Vaca’s male-dominated narrative by portraying women in a more differentiated
and realistic way than he has done in his account, where the feminine figure is
completely absent. In so doing, Lalami destroys the myth that women are
inferior to men, faceless beings who have no contribution to history, which
gives her novel a feminist dimension.
Feminism refers to the ideology
that advocates equality between men and women at all levels, whether social,
economic, or political. In Feminism Is for Everybody: Passionate Politics
(2000), bell hooks defines ‘feminism’ as “a movement to end sexism, sexist
exploitation, and oppression.” In fact, feminism
as a movement seeks to put an end to the idea that women are weak, passive, and dependent
individuals; that is why it advocates the dismantling of the patriarchal structures that perpetuate inequality as
well as the restrictive roles imposed by gender.
According
to renowned sociologist Michael Kimmel (2000), gender is “a fluid assemblage
of the meanings and behaviours that we construct from the values, images, and
prescriptions we find in the world around us” (87). So, it is not biologically
determined but socially constructed. Juliet
Mitchell further contends in her work, Woman’s Estate (1971) that gender is a “socially conditioned fantasy,” thus
emphasizing its constructed, rather than innate, nature. In The Moor’s
Account, Lalami exemplifies these feminist theories by portraying women who
resist, endure, and navigate the gendered expectations of their societies. By
exploring the experiences of Heniya, the protagonist’s mother; Ramatullai, his
fellow slave; Oyomasot, his Amerindian wife; and other unnamed indigenous
women, the novel becomes a reclamation of female agency as well as a feminist critique of gendered oppression.
Gender as Socialisation and Performance
Kimmel’s assertion that “we are not necessarily born
different; we become different through this process of socialization” (Kimmel
3) is evident in Mustafa’s early life in Morocco. From a young age, Mustafa
internalizes the masculine ideals of his culture.
When I turned seven, my father bought me a jellaba […],
and took me to meet the fqih of our mosque. My father wanted me to […]attend
the Qarawiyin, in the hope that I might take up the same profession as him.
(Lalami 33)
This quote illustrates well the socialisation Kimmel
refers to. As was the custom in Moorish culture, when Mustafa reached the age
of seven, hewas taken to the Quranic school to learn how to read and write, to
memorise the Qu’ran, and was expected to go to the Qarawiyin university like his
father. Had he been a girl, he would have been confined to the house and
domestic chores, but because he was a boy, he was expected to follow in his
father’s footsteps and become a notary. This expectation is not a product of
inherent gender identity but of social conditioning that equates masculinity
with economic power and social respectability.
Mustafa’s gendered performance is further complicated by
his enslavement. The symbolic emasculation he experiences as a slave subverts
his internalized notions of masculinity. His body, once a symbol of autonomy,
becomes a site of commodification. This transition destabilizes the gender
roles he was taught:
Still, as I swept the hut that had been requisitioned for
Senor Dorantes, as I picked corn for his meals or washed his clothes with the
last scrap of Castile soap I still had—women’s tasks, tasks my bondage had
reduced me to and from which I longed to be freed. (46)
The quote above portrays the humiliation he feels because
he performs tasks that his social conditioning has
taught him are unfit for men.When he was a free man, he enjoyed all the privileges of
his masculinity, but as bondage brings about a loss of status for Mustafa, he
is obliged to do tasks that he considers inferior. Here, Mustafa explicitly
associates domestic labour with femininity, highlighting how deeply gender
roles are ingrained in his consciousness due to the way he was brought up in
his family. This quote shows how gender is performed through daily labour and
how the loss of male privilege disrupts this performance.
A similar disruption
of gender roles occurs during Mustafa’s time with the Capoques tribe. At the
beginning, the tribe provided food to the castaways, but with time, the
Capoques’ chief decreed that the newcomers had to work for the meat his hunters
gave them. When Mustafa and his companions failed to hunt or fish successfully,
they were told to “[g]o and pick the roots with the women” (Lalami 175).This
directive implies that they have failed in performing traditionally masculine
roles, and are therefore relegated to tasks deemed feminine within that
cultural context. The gender gap in labour is once again reinforced, and the
internalized notions of masculinity for both Mustafa and his companions are
thus unsettled. Their inability to perform these expected roles, as men, forces
them to confront the fragility of gender identity when stripped of its social
supports.
Another episode
through which Lalami vividly demonstrates that gender is not a stable or
inherent identity, but a series of roles learned, assigned, and enforced across
cultures, is portrayed through Mustafa’s description of Oyomasot:
She did not care that her father
and mother disapproved of her wandering off alone. It was true that she did all
her tasks uncomplainingly, whether it was collecting mountains of firewood or
washing smelly animal skins, but I cannot say that she did them zealously or
expertly. Once her chores were completed, however, she would go set up traps
for wild fowl, or she would play a popular game of sticks, but she would often
be rebuked, since these were not proper pastimes for a girl. (228)
The passage above
exemplifies Judith Butler’s concept of gender performativity. The fact that
Oyomasot completes her chores ‘uncomplainingly’ and without zeal means that she
performs these tasks just because she is obliged, but not because she finds
satisfaction in doing them; that is why, once she finishes, she engages in
‘masculine’ activities such as ‘trapping wild fowl’ or ‘playing with sticks.’ This
signals her resistance to the gender roles imposed upon her while exposing the
performative nature of gender and the possibility of disrupting its script
through deviation. Oyomasot’s behaviour shows how gender is not an innate trait
but a learned and regulated set of behaviours. According to Butler, “gender is
in no way a stable identity or locus of agency from which various acts proceed;
rather, it is an identity tenuously constituted in time—an identity instituted
through a stylized repetition of acts” (Butler 519). The fact that her parents
disapproved of her wandering off alone and that she was often rebuked for doing
activities not deemed feminine shows how gender roles and norms are maintained
by society through discipline and surveillance.
Gendered Violence and the Commodification of Women
Lalami’s narrative does not shy away from exposing the
brutal realities of gender-based violence, particularly in the colonial
context. In his narration of
the day his father got enmeshed in a fight with two Portuguese soldiers, which
would later cost him his left arm, Mustafa explains that the cause of his
father’s fight with the two Portuguese soldiers was that they were humiliating
and brutalizing a woman:
The city of Azemmur had been
under vassalage to Manuel the Fortunate for a few years already and none of the
travelers, burdened by Portuguese taxes, could abide the sight of these two men
of arms. Still less could they bear to see that the prisoner was one of their
own, a young woman whose veils had been removed and whose hands were bound by
chains. Red, blistered strokes ran down her face and arms. (27-28)
Mustafa’s depiction
of the unveiled woman shows the highest degree of humiliation, and is
equivalent to taking off her clothes. It is a blatant transgression of Moorish
mores, which forbid men who have no blood relation with a woman to see parts of
her body other than her face and hands. The Portuguese soldiers’ removal of the
woman’s veil equals rape. But what happened in Azemmur, Mustafa witnessed it in
the New World. The Castilian soldiers systematically raped indigenous
women, a tactic that reinforced their dominance and dehumanised both the women
and their communities.
Some soldiers were dragging women
out of the earth mound. The women clawed at the men’s faces and pulled their
beards, but the men easily restrained them. One of the Castilians lifted a girl
off the ground and, singling her over his shoulder like a sack of wheat, he ran
to his lodge. (93)
This scene of the
rape of Apalachian women at the hands of Castilian soldiers portrays the
brutality and violence the helpless women were subjected to. They were treated
like the goods the Castilian soldiers stole from the Indian huts when they
first landed on La Florida. Here, Lalami explicitly connects colonial conquest to the
commodification of women’s bodies, positioning sexual violence as a weapon of
empire. Juliet Mitchell’s concept of gender as a “socially conditioned fantasy”
finds resonance in this depiction. The conquistadors’ actions reveal their
belief in a fantasy where women, particularly indigenous ones, exist solely for
male pleasure and reproduction. Juliet Mitchell, in Psychoanalysis
and Feminism (1974) also depicts that, “the exchange of women in marriage
as a mode of relationship in primitive societies actually renders women as
objects to unite society. In Mitchell’s words, women’s identities are
determined by their “cultural utilization as exchange objects” (qtd. in Nayar
89). This cultural utilisation objectifies women. This reduction of women to objects of male control
exemplifies how gender socialization within patriarchal and colonial systems
produces toxic masculinities that perpetuate violence.
However, the commodification of women is not confined to
the New World. In Seville, Mustafa also depicts
the degrading manner in which the auctioneer dealt with women slaves during the
public sale.
He called out for the first of
the four women in our group. Without warning, he lifted her dress up. He held
her breast in his palm and said she was young and healthy and could bear many
children. In her shame, she could only stare at the ground as the boys in the
crowd jeered and the girls muffled their giggles. (111)
This scene shows the
inhumane, shameful, and extremely abusive treatment of women slaves. One can
imagine how the poor women used to feel when they were exposed in public as
cheap merchandise. By describing how, during the public market auction, the
female slaves’ dresses are lifted up and how their private parts are treated in
a dehumanising way, he sheds light on one of the darkest periods in the history
of human beings: “At that moment, I gave many thanks to God that I was not born
a woman and did not have to suffer her humiliation” (69).
In “The Story of
Ramatullai” (139), Mustafa describes how one night he “heard the clattering of
the copper pots” (141) in the kitchen, and thinking that it was a thief, he
hurried to see Ramatullai (his fellow slave at Bernardo’s house) to find out
that it was their master who was sexually abusing her: “The long legs of
Ramatullai were thrashing in the darkness, under the weight of Bernardo
Rodriguez” (141). So, in addition to their physical exploitation and
psychological suffering, sexual abuse was something common and expected: “Every
slave knew this could happen, but no slave believed it would, until it did”
(141). Via Ramattulai’s story, Mustafa also sheds light on the cruel separation
of female slaves from their children: “Was there a greater pain in the world, I
wondered, than having your babies taken away from you?” (119) Lalami’s portrayal challenges the Eurocentric moral
superiority often claimed in colonial histories, revealing the universal and
systemic nature of gender oppression.
Female Agency and Feminist Resistance
As mentioned before, although the
story is set in a predominantly male-dominated society, and the perspectives of
male characters, both colonizers and the colonized, dominate the narrative,
less prominent female perspectives are also present, particularly through
Mustafa’s memories of his family and encounters with Indigenous women. The
perspective of Mustafa’s Mother, Heniya, is critical for understanding the
cultural and familial foundations that shape Mustafa throughout his journey.
Heniya represents the cultural and religious roots of Mustafa’s upbringing that
deeply influence his identity, values, and worldview. Heniya’s perspective is
steeped in Islamic faith, which she instilled in Mustafa from a young age, and
her influence is evident in his strong connection to his Moorish and Islamic
identity, which he maintains despite the dislocation and hardships he faces as
a slave. This religious upbringing provides him with a moral and ethical
framework that guides his actions and decisions throughout his journey.
Instances where Mustafa engages in cultural or religious practices are
numerous, such as reciting verses from the Qur’an, praying in the Muslim way,
and his worries about being buried according to Muslim rituals even while in
captivity, underscore the lasting impact of Heniya’s upbringing and the
importance of maintaining cultural identity. Her teachings and the stories she tells
about their homeland comprise a bulwark that connects him to his traditions and
keeps him tethered to his sense of self. The character of Heniya conveys
essential values such as integrity and dignity, which become a basis of
Mustafa’s character and influence how he navigates the challenges of his life,
as her life reflects both the empowerment and the sacrifices women often make.
For example, when her husband got injured by one of the Portuguese soldiers,
she bravely “pressed her palms on the wound and called for a candle from her
basket so she could take a better look” (29).
She later managed to give birth to Mustafa by herself: “[M]y mother’s
pain had grown intense that she settled herself on her knees and began to push”
(30), and when his father asked her if she needed anything, she responded that
she needed to be home, which shows how self-reliant she was. Her role as a
mother and caretaker is crucial thanks to her ability to adapt to circumstances
and maintain the household, ensuring the well-being of her family despite life
difficulties and challenges, which shows her strength and resilience, two
qualities Mustafa has inherited and that have endowed him with the ability to
endure hardships and to survive under oppressive conditions. Heniya’s perspective
also offers insights into the gender roles and expectations within 16th
century Moorish society. At that time, girls could not choose their husbands
and could not make decisions: “When she turned fifteen, he [his grandfather]
had agreed to let her marry a wealthy merchant” (25). But when she got widowed,
he then gave her to “an old and wise tailor” (25) of his choice, who also died,
before marrying her to Mustafa’s father. Her ability to empower Mustafa
suggests that the strength and influence of women often operate within and
beyond the visible power structures.
Mustafa’s fellow slave Ramatullai
emerges to center stage thanks to Mustafa, who tells her story, which enriches
the narrative. Ramatullai shares a cultural and geographical background with Mustafa
and immediately connects with him. Her perspective as an African slave in
Seville emphasizes the ordinary experiences of displacement, loss, and survival
that African slaves went through in Europe. Ramatullai’s story shows how racial
and gender oppression are intertwined in the lives of women slaves. Through
Ramatullai’s eyes, the reader gets a deep insight into the harsh realities of
slavery because it portrays how slaves are physically and emotionally abused,
stressing the dehumanising conditions imposed on them by their owners.
Ramatullai’s story focuses on the difficult conditions of female slaves who are
separated from their children, subject to sexual exploitation, and gender-based
violence. Yet, even though they are brutally subordinated, they are very strong
and resilient. For example, to strike back at Bernando Rodriguez for his
physical abuses of her, Ramatullai resorted to “tainting his food and drink”
(141). Despite her dire circumstances, Ramatullai embodies hope and defiance by
emphasizing the indomitable human spirit, the refusal to be completely subdued
by oppression. Her ability to survive and maintain her sense of self under such
harsh conditions is a testament to her inner strength. Ramatullai supports
Mustafa emotionally and psychologically while he is in Seville. Her presence
and her understanding of their situation bring about a sense of fraternity and
solidarity between them. Ramatullai’s strength and resilience inspire Mustafa,
and her experiences contribute to shaping his actions and attitudes as he
navigates his journey. Thus, Ramatullai’s narrative highlights the subtle forms
of resistance that women slaves employed, whether through maintaining cultural
practices, forging supportive relationships, or finding small ways to assert
their humanity and agency.
Oyomasot, Mustafa’s Amerindian
Wife, is depicted as a brave, self-reliant woman who knows how to defend
herself. The novel portrays how she rejects Mustafa’s help with the rope
(226-27). She is also rebellious as she refuses to be silenced when her mother
blames her for leaving her brother’s furs hanging on their rags under the rain:
“Why did he not bring them in from the rain?” (229). She is also portrayed as a
capable woman, self-confident, and non-conformist.
She stopped sharpening
the spearhead she had been hunched over when I came into the hut. She was a
good spear woman who could hit a target from as far away as ten qasab with
unerring aim, but the tribe’s traditions precluded her from taking part in a
hunt. What was more, she was not supposed to make or carry a weapon. (235)
This passage is a good example of female agency and
resistance. Despite being able to hit a target with precision from a long
distance, her talents are unrecognized and unrewarded because of her gender, as
her tribe does not allow women to hunt or to make or carry a weapon. However,
Oyomasot does not openly rebel, but resists these gender norms by continuing to
do these supposedly men’s tasks, which reflects her agency. Oyomasot embodies
Judith Butler’s notion of gender performativity: by engaging in acts deemed
inappropriate for her gender, she reconfigures what it means to be a woman
within her cultural context. Oyomasot is also a woman of character who refuses
to be disregarded or overlooked, particularly when it comes to decisions that
affect her life. For example, she gets irritated that Mustafa has never asked
for her opinion about traveling back to Europe through New Spain: “You did not
ask what I wanted,” (253) she told him. She is the one who persuades Mustafa to
rebel against his master as she cautions him not to trust Dorantes and exhorts
him to break free from slavery: “What you want is not something that can be
asked for, it can only be taken” (296). Additionally, her ability to navigate
and adapt to the changing realities imposed by the Spanish illustrates her
strength and her deep desire to support her husband despite cultural
dislocation. For example, in Tenochtitlán, she had to adopt the Castilians’
style of dress: “Oyomasot tried on the Spanish dress that had been left for her
inside the walnut chest” (277), and did her best to bear the girdles of her
dress which she hurried to unfasten (281). Her interactions with Mustafa reveal
commonalities in their struggles, hopes, and resilience, challenging the
dehumanising narratives of colonisation.
I do not know why I
fell in love with Oyomasot. […] Perhaps because I saw in her someone who, like
me, chafed under the rules that were imposed upon her. Perhaps it was because,
though she lived at home, she did not seem fully at home—an outsider of a sort,
another interloper. (229)
What makes Oyomasot an ‘interloper’ is that she is
like Mustafa; she, too, resists the role assigned to her by her social
environment particularly that tied to gender. Oyomasot, though “at home,”
remains symbolically estranged because she “chafed under the rules that were
imposed upon her,” much like her husband. Therefore, this failure to exhibit
the identity expected of her illustrates the artificiality of those roles. For
this reason, her estrangement becomes a site of potential resistance, revealing
how gendered identities can be troubled or undermined by those who do not fully
perform them.
Conclusion
Lalami’s novel highlights how
women’s voices have been doubly erased by official archives and by gender
constraints. So by devoting space to women’s perspectives in her novel Lalami
brings to the center the women who were relegated to the margin, thus offering
invaluable insights into the cultural, social, and personal dimensions of the
story. In Mustafa’s narrative, women occupy an important place, as he portrays
them as strong, resilient women despite their subaltern status. By reclaiming marginalized histories and voices, Lalami
responds to Spivak’s question as she makes her “subaltern” women speak and
assert their agency, thereby positioning The Moor’s Account as both a
postcolonial and feminist novel. Therefore, we can say that The Moor’s
Account not only challenges colonial discourse but also the masculine
mentality that upholds it.
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