The Professional Muslim Singles Evening, at which like-minded Muslims planned to meet up this week with a view to marriage, was to be the first event of its kind in Ireland, asks Róisín Ingle
When 13 of the women pulled out just a few days before the event, organiser Kamran Beg was forced to cancel, disappointing the other 35 men and women who had signed up. This country's 20,000-strong Muslim community isn't quite ready for speed dating, it seems.
"The women complained of intimidation from certain senior members of their community who sought to undermine the event, and put pressure on them not to attend," says Beg, a Manchester-based management consultant who has run similar events across the UK and US. "Some of the women said they would be penalised and frowned upon if they went. I am very saddened."
Only two of the women were prepared to go public with their reasons for pulling out and only then in a statement e-mailed to Beg. One woman, a 29-year-old doctor, claimed that senior spiritual leaders in the community had told her parents that the event was "the work of the devil". Her parents were told that such events encouraged unacceptable behaviour and warned that if they let their daughter attend the event they would have to find another place to worship. They were also told that if they were so desperate to find a mate for their daughter they could "just ship her back to Pakistan and the rest will be attended to. We need to control our girls more and make sure they remain in acceptable bounds".
Another woman, a 28-year-old teacher, alleged a similar experience with local community representatives. "They have put out a lot of bad news regarding the event," she says. "They are not exactly helping me in my life partner search, and one of the community elders said to my father: 'If you really want your daughter to marry and can't find anyone here, marry her to someone in India.'"
Beg was stunned by the reaction because, according to him, the events are run as close to cultural guidelines as possible. No alcohol is served and participants are strictly vetted. "The only difference is that the supervisors or chaperones are not members of their families," he says.
While customs vary depending on the country of origin, Muslims traditionally adhere to strict guidelines when it comes to finding a mate. In some cases, the process is entirely parent-led with a mother or father finding a suitable partner and chaperoning any subsequent dates.
But some parents take a less hands-on approach says Nadia (23) from Libya, who has been living in Dublin for 10 years and met her husband through a friend. They got married two years ago. "Having sexual relations before marriage is strictly forbidden according to the religion," she says, when asked why she got married so young. "I wasn't going to wait till I was 30."
She says that even if she was still looking for a husband, she wouldn't like the idea of a singles night. "I think it would be a bit embarrassing," she says. She understands, however, why some women would choose that path and describes critics as "small-minded gossips. That kind of opposition is not religious, it's cultural," she says.
Serena (26) left her home in London as a teenager to avoid an arranged marriage and other cultural expectations of her Indian Muslim parents. Now living in Dublin with her Irish husband, she has no ties with the religion and agrees with Nadia that it's the strict cultural, rather than religious, guidelines that are the problem.
"It seems to me the people who made those comments have no trust or respect for women. This is not the fault of the religion but of the culture in whatever country they come from," she says. "The sad thing is that it enforces a negative stereotype of the Muslim culture when the truth is there are many positive aspects of Islam."
Imam Khalid Sallabi, a spiritual leader in Galway, says in principle he has no problem with Muslim singles evenings as long as they are organised by people of integrity, while Imam Yahya al-Hussein in Dublin describes them as "undignified".
Summayah Kenna, PR officer for the Islamic Centre in Clonskeagh, Dublin is an Irish Muslim who converted to the religion 25 years ago, two years before meeting and marrying her husband, a Libyan engineer.
"The centre does not endorse these events but we know Kamran and wish him well," she says. To gain the support of the centre, the function would need to be run more strictly, she explains. "A parent or other family member would need to be present as a chaperone. We would also like to see it opened up to a wider group of people, not just professionals."
Beg, who is trying to organise another dating night for Dublin in December, points out that Muslims based in Ireland regularly travel to his events in the UK, which have so far led to 13 engagements and six marriages.
"I would not feel morally right about holding an event where participants fear a backlash from the community, so I am hoping there will be a transparent and educated debate about this subject within the Muslim community," he adds.
Some names have been changed