Article by James Heywood:
The paradox of the burqa
The burqa, a body and head covering garment worn by some Islamic women, sometimes provokes controversy, despite being an expression of modesty, writes James Heywood.
Last year in Istanbul, my eight-year-old student answered the door and saw three people draped entirely in dark sheets. He turned his head and promptly announced to his mother, “Cahiller var”. The ‘ignorant, backwards ones’ were on the doorstep, quietly giggling among themselves. In fact my student was much mistaken, since the enshrouded Muslim teenagers were simply roaming the neighbourhood as ghosts on a Halloween trick-or-treat adventure.
The ignorance was clearly the young boy’s. He had sighted a different face of his own religion; his words an innocent admission of preconceived bigotry. Regardless, he didn’t consider these people Muslims like him.
The debate around female Islamic dress dates back to Mohammed’s time. Historically, women from any number of Muslim cultures covered up for modesty. During the colonial period, the tradition was reversed. 1930s’ Turkey outlawed the burqa, and for many decades Ataturk’s reforms virtually erased religious dress from the social and political landscape. As piety and practice return across Anatolia, comparable to a rise in religiosity around the globe, the Turkish elite remains surer than ever – even a modest scarf is anti-Ataturk, anti-Turkish, anti-modernisation. A singularly harsh judgement.
for a secular government that respects the rights of the individual, fear and ignorance have no place in the legislature
Is it just that any nation would pass laws expressly prohibiting the burqa, the distinctive Islamic garment that hides the wearer’s face? Following a 2004 law that banned the wearing of conspicuous articles of religious affiliation in the school ground, the debate has resurfaced in France. A number of ministers recently called on Sarkozy’s Government to examine the “burqa’s place in French society”, reigniting the discussion on Islam and the secular tradition.
The Qur’an suggests modest clothing; believers should adopt outer garments when in public, and women should cover their bosom and adornments. With a range of interpretations as to how these requirements should be practiced, the Qur’an neither prescribes covering the face nor imposes punishment on women who choose not to. Today in the West most Islamic headscarves attract scant attention, yet covering the face is singled out as being anti-everything. And among Muslim communities there is no consensus on the burqa’s status. Salafists, followers of a minor Islamic movement that harks back to Mohammed’s early descendants and defined as deeply conservative by some and radical by others, adopt the practice wholeheartedly. A strict and narrow view of the rich Islamic tradition, Salafism exceeds the Qur’anic requirement that female Muslims dress modestly.
For the majority of Islamic scholars, females should avoid clothing that draws undue attention in the presence of the opposite sex. The burqa is thus seen by some Muslims as ‘overkill’, a purely sectarian display. French Internet forums are currently full of sympathy for women, who according to commentators wear an ‘inflicted’ garment. The burqa marginalises the wearer, but as one female questioned, “who would today confuse the burqa with Islam?” It appears the all-encompassing covering is but the radical imposition of a conservative group.
Religious symbol or sectarian obligation, the burqa has recently become incompatible with French nationality. Last year, a 32-year-old Moroccan woman married to a Frenchman and with three children born in France was denied citizenship since, “she had adopted, in the name of a radical practice of her religion, comportment in society inconsistent with the essential values of the French community, notably with the principal of equality between the sexes”.
So to the question of freedom. Though the examples of Saudi Arabia, Yemen, and Iran are well publicised, these are not comparable cultures to those in the West and it achieves little to suggest that the values of such nations are shared by those who adopt the burqa in the West. As expressed by Silma Ihram, a pioneer of Muslim education and campaigner for racial tolerance, “Muslim women may choose to cover themselves to be free from the shackles of sexualisation so dominant in Western nations.” Donning the burqa or other Islamic headwear in Western culture “is an act of liberation from society’s relentless demand to be Vogue magazine beautiful and sexually available.” Modesty is a human value, not solely the concern of the religious. All people should possess the right to express that modesty individually.
Mehmet Özalp from the Affinity Intercultural Association explains female Islamic headwear in the Australian context: “Here, women are not forced to cover themselves. It is a personal choice to cover up, which may stem from a desire to be pious, or belief that it is an Islamic compulsion. Ultimately, it is not a decision taken lightly.” The burqa-as-imposition argument appears flawed, as Muslim women in Australia benefit from real freedom. “An Australian Muslim female is at liberty to choose a headcover, in most cases a scarf, rarely, the burqa. Such a choice is made after hearing both sides of the debate among family and the community.” A free decision made after open discussion cannot be condemned as ignorant.
Should the French Government enact a law prohibiting the burqa it will knowingly contravene a basic freedom of its citizens. For a secular government that respects the rights of the individual, fear and ignorance have no place in the legislature. As Silma Ihram states, “Religion is not going to disappear. Open dialogue and mutual respect are required. We have to find common ground and use this as the beginning point in any debate”.
To return to the young Moroccan woman who was refused French citizenship: “If I see a child upset by my dress, I lift my veil and tell him I’m a mother just like any other.” Her words are an innocent admission of understanding and respect.
This article was first published in Living Ethics, the newsletter of St James Ethics Centre, issue 77, 2009