For those who don’t understand what it’s like to be othered, “representation” (once a universally agreed-upon beacon of hope) is often now regarded as nothing more than an overused buzzword. But when Anne Hathaway casually dropped an “ inshallah” (correctly used, for what it’s worth) in the middle of an interview with People about her upcoming “The Devil Wears Prada 2”, the Muslim and Arab American group chats lit up.
When asked about embracing aging, Hathaway spoke about taking inventory of past decisions, taking everything with a grain of salt, and just that she hopes “to live a long, healthy life” and then adds “Inshallah, I hope so.”
“Inshallah,” in Arabic (Also spelled “insh’Allah”), translates to “if God wills.” It’s a phrase found in the Quran and on the lips of many Muslim parents, both earnestly (perhaps about the hopeful success of their children) and sarcastically (like whenever I’d ask my parents if I could go hang out with friends before my homework was done).
But the phrase has been creeping into the vocabularies of non-Arabic speakers around the world — I’d imagine with a little help from Drake and former President Joe Biden, the latter of whom used the phrase to question when the public would see Donald Trump’s tax returns.
So why the commotion over Hathaway’s casual use of the word now in an interview?
The timing is crucial here. Just one week ago, Sabrina Carpenter went viral for insulting the Zaghrouta — a high-pitched ululation often used by Arabs during celebrations — from a fan during her Coachella set. There was plenty of debate surrounding the moment, including an argument that it wasn’t the singer’s fault for not recognizing the trilling sound.
Still, the thing she did, which was to insult and reject something just because it’s different, was nauseatingly familiar to any immigrant or child of immigrants. Carpenter’s “this is weird” felt not only xenophobic but triggering to many of us.
And while it’s perfectly acceptable to be confused by an unfamiliar cultural ritual, Carpenter is a financially privileged and well-traveled artist. Girl, act like you’ve been somewhere.
So this week, when “inshallah” naturally rolled off the tongue of someone as famous and influential as Anne Hathaway during a press run of one of the most highly anticipated sequels of our generation, it felt like a small win. Our languages aren’t weird. They’re woven into the fabric of this country and its culture.
I want to make one thing clear, though. Neither our emotional upheaval over a rejected Zaghrouta nor our glee over Hathaway’s “inshallah” is about craving white validation. It’s more about our right to belong as immigrant communities who contribute to this country, as well as our joy in sharing the beautiful parts of our heritage with our community — without being called “weird” for doing so.
Just one week ago, Muslim Egyptian-American actor Ramy Youssef taught Elmo to say “habibi” (an Arabic word meaning “my love” or “my friend”) on an episode of Sesame Street. NYC Mayor Zohran Mamdani ran his entire platform — one that has been called one of the most famous political campaigns in history — being proud of his faith. British Pakistani actor Riz Ahmed recently released Bait, a show that (alongside themes of mental health and community) poses the thought of a “brown James Bond” — and garnered an almost unheard-of 95% on Rotten Tomatoes.
Representation is necessary. And despite anti-Muslim and anti-Arab rhetoric that often trickles down from the highest office in the nation or the biggest stages in pop culture, we are paving a way for ourselves every day.
It just feels nice to be represented in mainstream media in an accepting, inclusive light. I hope that we get to see much more, insha’Allah.
