Veiled Sentiments

When she begins her ethnographic research with the Awlad ‘Ali, Lila Abu-Lughod is 26 years old, excited to learn about Bedouin women but still fairly new to the field of ethnography. She describes herself as “suited” to the insular, far-away Bedouin world because her “temperament” and “interests” thrive in “a small group whose members [she] could come to know intimately” (22). Abu-Lughod, who is only partly Arab/Muslim, struggles to integrate herself as an unmarried American woman above marriageable age. However, her listening ear and unconventional, “nondirective approach” earn the trust of many in the village (21).

Abu-Lughod’s writing is scholarly, but her style is also narrative. As she integrates the stories that she hears, embedding them in the social settings that render them additionally complex, she shows that she values narrative, folkloric style. In these settings, Abu-Lughod tends to be more of a listener. Often, the poems that she records require translation from languages and dialects with which she is not familiar.

Even as Abu-Lughod takes up the mantle of an “insider,” she still possesses limited access to the realities of individual experience to which she is so profoundly compelled. As she witnesses individuals take on different discursive registers, she must confront the biases that render this dialectic situation so different and incomprehensible. These biases both hinder her complete understanding of those around her and help her to write a clear narrative for her original Western audience. (The text has since been translated into Arabic, and some literate Bedouins have been able to read it.)

In her Afterword, Abu-Lughod, writing 30 years after the original text’s publication, confronts some of these insider/outsider tensions that defined her earlier experiences living with the Awlad ‘Ali. Although she sustains her ties with those with whom she lives, she returns to the United States after two years to pursue an academic career. As times change, she wants to create a culture of deeper understanding while avoiding the burden of doing so on her own. Abu-Lughod can both criticize herself—recognizing that she is an “outsider” who tries to become a “native”—and recognize the importance of her work. Her original ambivalence about the nature and success of ethnography continues across decades, taking different, increasingly complex positions, but still rendering her storytelling honest and humble.