Banning The Symbols Of Political Islam: The Burqa

Margaret Wente wrote precisely the kind of column I would have liked to write, making to the same kind of arguments, and ultimately the same conclusion. We shouldn’t impose a ban on the burqa. It goes against my natural instinct, perhaps even against my cognitive rationalizing, but there it is. A year ago, or even farther back, I think there is no question that I would oppose the wearing of the burqa in Canada. But that doesn’t mean that I accept the fundamental problems associated with the symbol of political Islam.

The history of the burqa, also transliterated from Arabic as burkha, burka, or burqua [which is why you see so many variations on the spelling of other Arabic words in the media], is somewhat varied based upon which source you read. A completely enveloping outer garment, the covering is worn over normal clothing and removed inside the household. The burqa is a combination of the hijab, or head-scarf, with the niqab, or face-veil. The hijab, for instance, is frequently worn by many Muslims in Canada, and is a scarcely noticeable part of their attire, most probably because of the European, and particularly Eastern European tradition that also involves head-scarves. The face-veil portion of the burqa is called the purdah, a Persian word that rather appropriately means “curtain”.

Many westerners are puzzled as to why Muslim women would want to wear symbols of Islamic oppression in western society. There are, perhaps, arguments to be made based upon the religion itself. Those raised in Islamic societies believe in the hadith, a collection of edicts by the Prophet Muhammad, one of which is to teach men and women to dress modestly in public. While most Islamic societies have interpreted this as the reason for wearing the burqa, there is no specific mention of the garment in the Holy Qu’ran whatsoever.

For an explanation of the origins of the burqa in modern Islam, muslim writer Tarek Fatah explains:

There is no requirement in Islam for Muslim women to cover their face. Rather, the practice reflects a mode of male control over women. Its association with Islam originates in Saudi Arabia, which seeks to export the practice of veiling — along with other elements of its austere Wahhabist brand of Islam — to Muslim communities around the world.

[...]

Most of Canada’s growth in niqabi women can be traced to 2004, when a radical Pakistani female scholar by the name of Farhat Hashmi came to this country on a visitor’s visa. After arrival, she was twice denied a work permit. But that didn’t stop her from establishing a Muslim school in Mississauga, Ont. that prosletyzed Wahhabist norms — including the wearing of the niqab, leaving the workforce and embracing polygamy.

In Irshad Manji’s film “Faith without Fear”, there is a somewhat humourous scene when she is in Yemen, trying on burqa’s to see what it feels like to wear one. She asks for the most popular, most liberal style from the shopkeeper. The man nods and shows her a full array of garments, every single one a deep navy blue or a midnight black. There is something a little dehumanizing in not only the “modesty” inflicted upon women in the muslim world, but the lack of colour as well.

The fact is that Nicholas Sarkozy had quite a different reason for speaking about the burqa than might a Canadian. France is host to an estimated 5.5 million Muslims, although admittedly such numbers are difficult to confirm owing to the clandestine nature of North African refugees. Their presence in that country, therefore, is far more pronounced, and entrenched. In Canada few such neighbourhoods exists, and it is safe to say that many Canadians are far more likely to see your average “goth” girl in full black and white makeup, or a British-style “punk” rocker replete with 1983 mohawk, than they are to see a woman shopping in her burqa. Full disclosure here: I’ve never seen a woman in a burqa in Canada, and only quite recently saw a woman in a niqab walking out of the Vancouver convention centre.

But the truth is that we can’t ban the burqa. Not in a nation where we proclaim the fundamental value of our society is the freedom of the individual and the choice that comes with it. Just as we tolerate all other sorts of choices which we consider less than appealing, we have to accept the personal choices that comes with the freedom of a liberal society. The moment we start dictating what women can wear, or in this case can’t wear, we aren’t much different than the countries we criticize. I believe there is also a certain appeal, a natural rebellious instinct among many people, to do something simply because it is forbidden. It would be the ultimate irony to have women “rebel” by wearing a symbol of conformity because it is banned here.

As Margaret Wente says, we have to allow it. That doesn’t mean we have to like it.