Samastha’s directive against women appearing before non-mahram men exposes the enduring grip of patriarchal orthodoxy — and the political ambivalence that allows it to persist in a state celebrated for social reform and gender progress
In late August 2026, Keralam was jolted by a controversy that starkly exposed the chasm between constitutional guarantees and clerical conservatism.
On August 28, the AP faction of Samastha Kerala Jam'iyyathul Ulama, one of the state’s most influential traditionalist Sunni bodies, led by Kanthapuram AP Aboobacker Musliyar, issued an official directive to its network of local mahalls and madrasas. The circular warned against "exhibiting women" before non-mahram men during Milad-un-Nabi celebrations and religious gatherings, insisting that public festivals must conform strictly to conservative norms.
The description of autonomous citizens as objects on display provoked swift public outrage. Rather than softening the rhetoric, Kanthapuram escalated the confrontation two days later during a public gathering in Kochi.
Defending the directive, he asserted that the emergence of women onto public stages inevitably brings social ruin, claiming that scripture directs women to remain sequestered within the domestic sphere. Defiantly dismissing the mounting criticism, he declared that Samastha had preached this doctrine for a century and that no external force could compel them to change.
This episode is far more than a minor doctrinal squabble within a single religious body. It represents a direct clash between patriarchal orthodoxy and the civic dignity of women in a state celebrated for its high literacy and social development. For a national audience, understanding this confrontation requires unpacking the unique institutional history of Keralam’s Muslim community, the factional landscape that governs its mosques, and the political calculations that frequently shield regressive clerics from accountability.
The landscape of Keralam’s Muslim organisations
The socio-religious structure of Keralam’s Muslims diverges sharply from that of North India. While northern communities largely navigate institutional divides between schools of jurisprudence like Deobandi and Barelvi traditions, Keralam developed an organised, mahall-centric infrastructure that took institutional shape in the early twentieth century.
Within Keralam, Kanthapuram has functioned as a strategic, indirect partner to the Left Democratic Front (LDF), led by the Communist Party of India (Marxist). By offering electoral support against the Congress-IUML alliance, particularly in north Keralam, his faction secured state patronage, administrative representation, and tacit immunity from aggressive ideological critique.
The Malabar Rebellion of 1921 was the catalyst. In its aftermath, progressive thinkers recognised that educational backwardness, superstition, and clerical isolation had left the community vulnerable. In 1922, reformists formed the Kerala Muslim Aikya Sangham, dedicated to modern schooling, female literacy, and the eradication of social evils.
Two years later, in 1924, this movement established Kerala’s first modern Islamic scholarly council: the Kerala Jam'iyyathul Ulama (KJU). The Aikya Sangham, which later came to be known as the Mujahid movement (Kerala Nadvathul Mujahideen), challenged entrenched clerical dominance by advocating for the Malayalam translation of the Quran, encouraging women to pray in mosques, and dismantling feudal customs.
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Alarmed by this progressive tide, traditionalist scholars who defended customary practices, shrine visitations, intercession, and rigid patriarchal control broke away to establish Samastha Kerala Jam'iyyathul Ulama in 1926. While the reformists championed women's education and social integration, Samastha anchored itself in an orthodox consensus that viewed women's public presence as an existential threat to morality.
Over the subsequent decades, both camps fractured along ideological and organisational lines. The Mujahid movement split in 2002 into multiple rival factions over theological nuances and institutional power. More consequentially, Samastha itself split in 1989 into two bitterly opposed blocs: the EK faction, named after EK Aboobacker Musliyar, and the AP faction, led by Kanthapuram AP Aboobacker Musliyar.
Rivalry in faith, consensus in patriarchy
For nearly four decades, the EK and AP factions have engaged in continuous rivalry. They have contested the control of village mosques, launched competing madrasa education boards, run rival daily newspapers, and traded theological condemnations. The EK faction retained an institutional and emotional alliance with the Indian Union Muslim League (IUML), long positioning itself as the mainstream clerical establishment.
In contrast, Kanthapuram’s AP faction built a centralised institutional empire under the Markaz umbrella in Kozhikode, aggressively challenging both the IUML's political monopoly and the EK faction's organisational dominance.
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Yet, despite this history of acrimonious schisms, the recent controversy exposed a revealing reality: when it comes to the subjugation of women and the preservation of patriarchal privilege, sectarian enmities vanish.
When public criticism mounted against Kanthapuram’s decree, leaders from the rival EK faction, such as Jifry Muthu Koya Thangal, stepped forward not to condemn their long-time adversary, but to defend his theological position. This sudden solidarity demonstrated that Keralam’s traditionalist clerical leadership, fragmented though it may be in pursuit of institutional power, maintains an unbroken front against gender justice. The debate over whether women may speak from a public podium or participate in community festivals stripped away factional posturing, revealing an identical, foundational discomfort with female autonomy across the traditionalist spectrum.
Opportunist politics of traditionalist leadership
Kanthapuram’s sustained survival at the apex of public life stems in large part from his calculated political manoeuvring. While styling himself as an uncompromising custodian of classical orthodoxy at home, he has mastered the art of transactional secular and national politics.
Within Keralam, Kanthapuram has functioned as a strategic, indirect partner to the Left Democratic Front (LDF), led by the Communist Party of India (Marxist). By offering electoral support against the Congress-IUML alliance, particularly in north Keralam, his faction secured state patronage, administrative representation, and tacit immunity from aggressive ideological critique.
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Concurrently, at the national level, Kanthapuram has cultivated a working relationship with the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) and Prime Minister Narendra Modi. Presenting himself as the leader of India’s peace-loving Sufi tradition, he has participated in state-endorsed international Sufi conferences in New Delhi, projecting the image of a moderate cleric who counters Wahhabi radicalism.
This duality reveals a profound opportunism. In New Delhi, he presents himself as a modern, progressive Sufi elder statesman to curry favour with the central government. In Thiruvananthapuram, he deals with the parliamentary Left to undercut his regional rivals. But in the mahalls of Malappuram, Kozhikode, and Kannur, his apparatus circulates edicts that reduce women to visual liabilities and seeks to banish them from civil life.
Political ambivalence and fractured reactions
The fallout from the August 2026 decree produced divergent political responses across Keralam's party spectrum, illustrating how vote-bank calculations complicate progressive commitments.
The Indian Union Muslim League, ever cautious of alienating conservative voters, adopted a stance of evasive neutrality. Senior figures like Panakkad Sadiq Ali Shihab Thangal characterised the controversy merely as an expression of fatherly concern for women’s safety in crowded environments
The parliamentary Left found itself caught between ideological principles and electoral pragmatism. Senior women leaders from the CPI(M), including PK Sreemathi and KK Shailaja, alongside the All India Democratic Women's Association (AIDWA), condemned the circular as feudal, regressive, and dehumanising. They insisted that Keralam's hard-won renaissance legacy leaves no room for treating women as private property. However, this principled pushback was blunted by conservative voices within the Left ecosystem. Figures such as former ministers KT Jaleel and TK Hamza, along with leaders of the allied Indian National League (INL), offered rationalisations, arguing that Kanthapuram was addressing his own community of believers and that his theological words had been taken out of context.
The Indian Union Muslim League, ever cautious of alienating conservative voters, adopted a stance of evasive neutrality. Senior figures like Panakkad Sadiq Ali Shihab Thangal characterised the controversy merely as an expression of fatherly concern for women’s safety in crowded environments, avoiding any explicit critique of the clerical decree. Other senior party voices remained conspicuously silent, wary of entering into a turf war between the two Samasthas.
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In contrast, the state's Salafi organisations took an unequivocal position. Leaders of the KNM (Mujahid) groups rejected Kanthapuram’s claims as an un-Islamic relic of pre-Islamic Arab feudalism. They highlighted historical precedents: Khadija, the Prophet’s first wife, was an independent merchant who managed trade caravans, and Aisha was an authoritative jurist, teacher, and political figure who commanded forces during critical junctures. By citing foundational Islamic history, the reformists underscored that Kanthapuram’s misogyny was not a reflection of original scriptural mandates, but the product of clerical gatekeeping.
The most forceful political intervention came from Chief Minister VD Satheesan, who articulated a firm standard for constitutional governance, "Attempts to impose nineteenth-century dogmas onto the twenty-first century cannot be entertained under any circumstances. When we look at iconic historical figures like Khadija, Aisha, and Queen Bilqis, it becomes evident that suppressing women has nothing to do with genuine Islamic principles. Our government and civil society stand firmly against any policy that attempts to push women back from the mainstream."
Although representatives of the AP faction sought meetings with the executive to soften the administration's stance, the government’s refusal to legitimise the decree signalled an important line of resistance.
(The Federal seeks to present views and opinions from all sides of the spectrum. The information, ideas or opinions in the articles are of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of The Federal)
