I am totally against the idea that a Muslim woman should not have

The words of King Hussein of Jordan—“I am totally against the idea that a Muslim woman should not have the same opportunities as a Muslim man to learn, to open up, to work, help shape the future. To close Islam down to a sexist approach is totally intolerable and ridiculous. It’s not Islam.”—resound like the voice of justice echoing through the ages. His declaration is not merely a defense of women’s rights, but a restoration of truth long buried beneath misunderstanding. It is the cry of a ruler who saw that ignorance, not faith, enslaves the human spirit. To speak thus is to defend not only women, but the sacred heart of Islam itself—its call to equality, mercy, and enlightenment.

In the manner of the ancients, let us say that truth is often obscured by the dust of time, and men, in their pride, mistake their customs for divine command. King Hussein’s words pierce that dust like sunlight. He reminds us that the true Islamic spirit is not a chain but a lamp—one that was meant to illuminate both man and woman alike. When the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) first called his followers to faith, he did not exclude women from knowledge or from leadership. His first believer was a woman, Khadijah, a merchant of wisdom and wealth, who stood beside him in courage and faith. His words elevated daughters from shame to honor, commanded education for both sexes, and entrusted women with dignity equal before God. How then can one close such a door and call it religion?

King Hussein, inheritor of both throne and responsibility, saw his duty as that of a shepherd of progress. In his reign, he sought not to rewrite faith but to reawaken it—to remind his people that education, equality, and compassion are not foreign ideas, but the very roots of Islamic civilization. From the golden age of Baghdad to the courts of Andalusia, Muslim women once taught, wrote, healed, and governed. Scholars such as Fatima al-Fihri, founder of the world’s oldest university, and Aisha bint Abu Bakr, whose scholarship preserved the words of the Prophet, stood as living proofs that Islam has never feared a learned woman. It is not the faith that silences women, but the fear of men who misunderstand it.

Consider the ancient city of Cordoba, where the light of knowledge once burned brightly under Islamic rule. There, women walked among philosophers, poets, and physicians. They taught in mosques, led discussions, and penned verses that outlived the empires of men. Yet centuries later, when ignorance crept in and arrogance disguised itself as piety, those lights dimmed. King Hussein’s words were spoken as a rekindling of that lost fire. In declaring that “it’s not Islam” to deny opportunity to women, he sought to remind the world that oppression wears many masks—but truth, when spoken with courage, strips them all away.

There is power in this declaration beyond its political reach. It is a moral challenge to every age: that religion must never be used as a prison for the human soul. To claim divine authority for injustice is to wound the very essence of faith. King Hussein’s message burns with righteous indignation because he knew that faith without justice becomes hypocrisy, and worship without equality becomes idolatry of power. True Islam, like all divine truth, is expansive—it calls humankind not downward into chains, but upward into dignity.

O children of the future, take heed of this teaching: do not mistake culture for commandment, nor silence for piety. The measure of faith is not in how tightly one guards tradition, but in how boldly one lives by compassion. To give women the same right to learn and work is not a concession—it is obedience to the Creator’s command to seek knowledge and serve humanity. The wise must ensure that every daughter stands with the same horizon before her as every son. For a society that denies half its people their light condemns itself to eternal twilight.

And so, let this be the lesson carved into the heart of every generation: faith and equality are not enemies, but twins born of truth. To honor God is to honor His creation, male and female alike. Work for justice where others preach division. Educate where others forbid it. Lift up where others push down. Be, as King Hussein was, defenders of faith not by dogma, but by dignity. For in the end, the true believer is not the one who guards power, but the one who guards the flame of mercy—and ensures that its light shines on every soul, without distinction or end.