hijab

The freedom of non-expression

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By Osama Diab

Advocates of banning the face veil want to take away the only choice some women have – the choice to conform.

28 July 2010

She used to love to sing, dance and swim. She used to daydream of summertime when there was no school and when she could spend the entire day at the beach swimming and building a castle out of sand. She used to do this every year until she was 11 when her mother told her she couldn't wear a swimsuit anymore. When she requested an explanation, her mother simply told her that she was "a big girl now". Puzzled by her mother's words, she thought there was something wrong with her or with her body.

However, they still went to the beach, but the women would sit there mostly covered while the men (her father and younger brother) would enjoy their time in the water. Through this experience, she learned that boys and girls are different. She grew to understand that her actions are not just going to affect her but her entire family.

A few years later when she grew breasts, her mother stopped allowing her to buy certain clothes because they were "too tight" or "too transparent". "You have the entire shop to choose from and you choose this," her mother would chastise her. Her brother would come from the men's section with a pile of clothes which the mother wouldn't even glance at.

The girl was very attractive as a teenager and drew the uninvited attention of men and boys. Since this was new to her, she thought there must be something wrong with the way she dressed or acted. When her family found out about one of the harassment incidents, instead of showing sympathy, they were angry at her.

She eventually chose to wear the hijab and act very seriously, believing that this would keep men away from her. She also knew that she could be a great source of pride for her family if she behaved like a "good girl", or a source of shame if she didn't. So the other reason why she decided to cover her hair was the positive feedback she was expecting from them. She didn't want to be perceived as immoral, useless and a source of disgrace.

After she told her mother, her mother called her friends and siblings and proudly boasted to them about "what a great daughter she has"  who chose "voluntarily" to wear the hijab at just 16.

After high school, she wanted to study acting, but knew that wasn't realistic. Her mother told her, "Out of all the schools in the world, you choose acting. What's wrong with engineering, business, or even languages." She "chose" to study English instead.

At college, she fell in love for the first time in her life. The man had a Muslim name, but was from a Bahai'i family. She was too afraid to tell her mother about it, but when she had the courage to do so, her mother screamed, "Out of all the men in the world, you choose a Bahai'i. I really wish you would die. You need to stop seeing this guy immediately."

The next guy was Muslim and fitted most of her family's criteria. Her family blessed the marriage. One day before her wedding, her mother gave her advice on how to act in bed: "Men get very suspicious really easily. Act like you know nothing and have no experience. Men like innocent girls."

She considered telling her husband about her sexual needs and what she would like to experience, but she was too afraid of his reaction or what he might think of her. She decided to live with no sort of sexual communication and even tried to get these ideas out of her head because these things are just not right.

Despite these disappointments, she didn't quite notice that she had little influence over the course of her life, and that it was all predetermined and designed by both her parents and society. She never really dwelt on how social rules and taboos were such a powerful force that she had little option but to abide by them.

She heard on the news that Syria had decided to ban the niqab in schools and that a general ban was being discussed in some European countries. She found that this was s unfair and believed that it should be the woman's choice whether or not to cover her face. The government should simply have no say in it. Even though she agrees that it has nothing to do with Islam, she is still very angry that some people would ban somethingthat enabled women to exhibit their modesty.

Her mind became more accepting of the idea that the West is at war with Islam. She became more appreciative of her values and how she was brought up, and refused to question either.

As a sign of that appreciation and conviction, she decided that when she turns 40, she would don the niqab. She informed her husband and parents and they praised her decision and told her that it would make her a great role model for her daughters.  On her 40th birthday, she celebrates by covering her face, firm in the belief that it was all her own choice.

Published here with the author's consent. ©Osama Diab. All rights reserved.

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Closing the ‘hijab murder’ file

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By Khaled Diab

The life sentence imposed on Marwa al-Sherbini's killer shows that European Islamophobia exists but is not institutionalised.

16 November 2009

While justice can never resurrect the fallen, it can lay them to rest in dignity and help their loved ones better come to terms with their loss.

In the case of Marwa al-Sherbini, the 31-year-old Egyptian pharmacist who was brutally murdered in a German courtroom this summer, the life sentence handed down by a Dresden court to her racist murderer should help ease tensions surrounding the case, which seems to have been hijacked for political point scoring.

First, let me be clear. This was an ugly and disgusting crime and caused the untimely death of an intelligent mother whose loss has undoubtedly left a huge hole in the lives of her husband and her three-year-old son. Her murderer, Alexander (or Axel) Wiens, a 28-year-old German of Russian origin, was certainly a racist and Islamophobe of the first order whose blind, irrational hatred of Muslims is frighteningly common in far-right circles.

But it was the extent and fury of the reaction in Egypt that astounded me. Although it is understandable that public sympathy for al-Sherbini – whose story is set to be turned into a film – and a certain amount of anger would pour out, I was shocked by the fact that she became popularly known as "the martyr of terrorism" and her case was used by some to claim that European Muslims were a "persecuted" minority and Europe was irredeemably Islamophobic.

Rising anti-German sentiment in Egypt even led to calls for sanctions against Germany. For example, the Egyptian Pharmacists' Association, of which al-Sherbini was a member, unfairly called for a boycott of German drugs.

While this over-reaction probably has some roots in the very real discrimination some Muslims face in Europe and the popular anger at US-led western intervention in places like Iraq, and the heavy human toll this has inflicted, Egyptians should not have allowed the actions of a tiny minority to lead them to make unfair generalisations.

As fellow Cif commentator Nesrine Malik said at the time: "Muslims (me included) constantly protest that the actions of a few extremists should not be allowed to denigrate Islam and its adherents as a whole – but this is exactly what they are doing themselves in connection with Europeans and the actions of Axel W."

At the time of the murder, I was struck by the ironic parallel between the one-sided self-righteous indignation being expressed by some conservative Egyptian Muslims and the almost identical brand of righteous anger targeted at Muslims by the European far right.

For example, many Egyptians pointed to western prejudice against the hijab and how it was prohibited in government institutions by some European states, such as France, as examples of this alleged persecution. "But what about Muslim prejudice against bare heads?" I asked in an article at the time. "In the interest of fairness, why aren't more Muslims openly outraged by attempts to force women to wear the headscarf against their will, as in Saudi Arabia?"

In Egypt, few protests are raised when the mutaween, the Saudi morality police, routinely arrest and beat Saudi women who are out alone or not wearing a headscarf. In an extreme manifestation of their puritanical attitude, they even caused, in 2002, the death of 15 schoolgirls who were not allowed to flee a burning building because they were not dressed in decent Islamic fashion.

In addition, while European Muslims can and do face discrimination, this Egyptian criticism overlooks the fact that Muslims often have more freedom of conscience in Europe than they do in Egypt, and that non-Muslims can also be the victims of enormous prejudice in Egypt.

Copts have to deal with a lot of unofficial and even some institutionalised discrimination in Egypt, as I highlighted in a recent article.

On hearing that the German courts had given the murderer the stiffest possible sentence – life, without eligibility for early release – my first reaction was that this should help restore shaken confidence, though there have been some complaints that the sentence was too lenient.

Some of the people interviewed on al-Jazeera last night and posting on newspaper message boards today expressed the view that Wiens should have been tried in Egypt and sentenced to death. They are obviously unaware of European laws banning the extradition of suspects to countries where they may face capital punishment.

But the verdict has generally gone down well. For instance, Egypt's ambassador to Germany welcomed the court's ruling, while the independent al-Dostour newspaper called it a "victory for justice". This should demonstrate to the doubters that, though there may be racist and Islamophobic Germans and Europeans, discrimination against Muslims is not universal nor is it generally institutionalised.

This column appeared in The Guardian Unlimited’s Comment is Free section on 12 November 2009. Read the related discussion.

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The fine art of repression

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By Khaled Diab

Egyptian Culture Minister Farouk Hosny's bid to be the chief of the UN's cultural wing has aroused suspicion among liberals and conservatives alike.

15 September 2009

Home to arguably the most famous world heritage sites and as the Arab world's cultural centre of gravity, Egypt should be a ripe recruiting ground for UNESCO's next chief. But Egyptian culture minister Farouk Hosny's bid to take over the reins of the UN's cultural and educational arm has stirred up controversy both within and outside Egypt.

Faced with failing popularity at home, Hosny engaged in offensive grandstanding and opportunistic populism last year when he made the shocking claim, for a man supposedly of culture, that if it were in his power, he would burn all Israeli books in Egypt, provoking the ire of Israel and of Jews around the world, although Israel withdrew its opposition to his candidature.

At home, Egyptians are divided over his candidacy. Many are outraged by the prospect that one of President Hosni Mubarak's most trusted minions and his longest-serving minister – not to mention the first lady's favourite – might actually become the face of global culture, education and science.

But Hosny is only Egypt's culture minister. Surely, he can't be held responsible for the regime's excesses, some may protest. But even if he is not directly implicated in the government's abuses, he does employ his talents as an abstract artist to obscure and mask the ugly face of the regime with some desperately needed prestige. In fact, media reports suggest that Mubarak regards the whole UNESCO issue as a matter of pride for his government.

More murkily, Hosny does his part to limit press freedom and freedom of expression both for political and personal reasons – one Egyptian blogger even described him as a "diva" for blacklisting artists who refused to accept awards from the ministry.

"Farouk Hosny and the first lady are the examples I despise the most," my brother Osama fumed in no uncertain terms. "People whose jobs are to improve the image of an oppressive regime by bringing operas by Verdi to Luxor and the Pyramids and [who] pretend to promote books and reading, while reading and knowledge, in reality, are the things the regime fears the most."

"I wish he wins," one Egyptian joked on Facebook, "to make the world know how much we suffer in Egypt."

But it's not just progressives and liberals who oppose Hosny, reactionary elements do, too, but for other reasons. The culture minister has provoked the ire of Islamists and conservatives in a way that endears him somewhat to me.

At one level, this is part and parcel of his portfolio: culture and art are seen by the most conservative elements as being decadent and corrupting. In addition, Hosny's oft-progressive cultural views have unleashed numerous public storms against him over the years.

One example dates back to 2006, when the urbane minister described the increasing prevalence of the hijab – a trend that has placed increasing social pressure on bare-headed women to conform – as a "step back for Egyptian women". Not content to dare to suggest that women should let their hair down, he riled conservatives further by sensibly suggesting that if women are obliged to wear hijab, then so should men.

His ministry's choice of books to publish as part of an initiative to bring affordable literature to the masses has also provoked the fury of conservatives. For example, in 2000, the ministry reprinted A Banquet for Seaweed – a novel about exiled and disillusioned Iraqi communists in Algeria – by the acclaimed Syrian author Haidar Haidar. As a sign of the changing times the novel, which had been applauded by critics on its original publication in the early 1980s, was rounded on by al-Azhar clerics and Islamists who accused Haidar of heresy and offending Islam with certain passages in the book. Shamefully, Hosny and his ministry buckled and withdrew the novel.

Hosny is the only unmarried cabinet minister and is euphemistically referred to as a 'bachelor'. This has, for the most part, sparked light-hearted rumours about his sexuality. However, the country's self-appointed morality police have taken it upon themselves to launch a smear campaign against him.

One Islamist lawyer who has made a career as some kind of 'God's advocate' went so far as to demand that the minister be stripped of his ministerial immunity so that he can be prosecuted for his hijab remarks and for allegedly breaching the standards of common decency and morality associated with his job.

How, you may ask? By attending a gay pride parade in Rome when he was Egypt's cultural attache in Italy. In a manifestation of the Arabic proverb "He who digs a pit for his brother falls in it himself", the lawyer also offensively demanded that government's cultural tsar undergo the kind of intrusive medical examination that the regime has used in its recent crackdowns against homosexuals.

But beyond the political and personal, does Hosny have what it takes to run UNESCO? Despite his questionable track record on freedom of expression, Hosny has over two decades of experience and has scored some major successes, including a string of new museums, arts centres, state-funded theatres, the Cairo history rehabilitation project, and the establishment of a cultural development fund.

However, the fact remains that he represents a regime that invests pitifully little in education, science and culture – the mandates of Unesco – and limits the freedoms of its citizens. But then again, if we're ever to have an Arab Unesco chief, are there any better candidates out there?

This column appeared in The Guardian Unlimited’s Comment is Free section on 11 September 2009. Read the related discussion.

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Covering heads and veiling poverty

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Gihan Abou Zeid

In Egypt, Hijabless women are becoming a shrinking and marginalised minority who have to keep their bare heads down.

3 September 2009

Arabic version

After dressing hurriedly, I asked my daughter if my clothes were appropriate for a public occasion in a poor Cairo neighbourhood. Smiling patiently, she told me: “You look great. Now you have to leave immediately.”

As I pushed open the door of the lift on my way out of the building, I ran into my teenage neighbour who is a year, or even a few months, younger than my daughter. “Hello, Ramadan Karim,” I said to him, smiling.

He did not answer, and mumbled to himself as if he’d seen something sinful: “A’ouz billah (I seek refuge in God).” Among the 30 or so women who live in our building, only two do not cover their heads or veil their faces, my daughter and I.

Women who bare their heads have become a minority in Egypt as a wave calling on women to cover up has swept through the country. Egypt’s streets are now teeming with colourful headdresses but the black ones are casting a longer shadow.

A superficial reading of the hijab phenomenon would reveal a rise in religiosity. A deeper analysis would uncover a wide range of economic, political and social dimensions which differ from one class to the next.

The hijab has lifted a burden off the shoulders of the poorest families, where it is used not only to cover the head but also to conceal, or at least disguise, poverty. The traditional dress, the galabiya or jilbab, is available in the market for reasonable prices. In addition, thanks to its bagginess and diplomacy in dealing with the female form, the dress can be shared by the women of the family and complemented with inexpensive scarves in a broad range of colours.

The headscarf also saves on hair care, not only in terms of money but also in terms of the time spared by women who barely have the luxury to sleep between the multiple jobs and functions they must perform.

In poorer areas, the hijab also affords its wearer a certain measure of respect as a “pious woman”. This is appreciated by the local men and reassures the women. By dressing in this way, a woman is sending out a concise and elegant message that she is adhering to the commandments of her faith.

But the prevalence of the headdress in all the poorer areas and in most middle class households raises the question of whether the hijab still carries the same religious significance.

In one of Cairo’s major hotels, I met Iman, a bright young woman who served drinks there. In accordance with the norms of the tourism sector, she was wearing a short skirt and tight clothes. But as the clock struck midnight, she underwent a major transformation. Before me stood the same woman but with her hair covered and her body concealed in a far more modest dress.

Iman informed me that she was on her way home. She told me that she didn’t want to lead a two-faced existence and that she was not happy with her false appearance at work or in the neighbourhood where she lives.

But Iman, who grew up in one of Cairo’s working class districts, knows very well that she could lose a lot if she rebelled against the local mores and refused to cover her head. In order to protect herself and her family, she wears the hijab.

Meanwhile, at the hotel, she needs to safeguard her livelihood, and so removes her headscarf. And between baring and hiding their hair, women’s identities are taken away from them, until they lose them with time, and become unable to answer the simple question: why do you cover your hair?

The hijab no longer carries the same religious significance it previously possessed. In fact, it now resembles a kind of new national dress, invented against a religious backdrop. Different rival groups compete in investing in it. Some Islamic groups see in its increasing acceptance a silent vote of confidence in their social success. Domestic fashion houses see in the spread of the hijab an appreciation of their talent for designing an endless assortment of headdresses. For their part, Egyptian families are proud of their conservative daughters.

Therefore, this unofficial national dress which expresses “conformity” carries no religious significance. Today, the pious have to go a step further to stand out in not standing out by donning a baggy black over-garment which completely conceals both the hair and the body. This attire is an extreme expression of conformity with the commandments of religion.

Women who have reached this stage do not recognise the piety of their sisters who merely cover their hair and find those who go around bare-headed so alarming that they pray for their salvation.

In this dress hierarchy, the weakest are the women who bare their hair because of their shrinking ranks. Moreover, their resistance to the hijab prompts others to exert peer pressure on them, reinforcing their sense of isolation. In fact, the status of women who do not cover up has grown to resemble the ostracisation experienced by minorities.

So my silence in the face of a teenager's disapproval can be seen as the kind of prudence exercised by small minorities throughout the ages. I’m just keeping my bare head down!

Translated from the Arabic by Khaled Diab. © Gihan Abou Zeid. All rights reserved.

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