Faceless in the Crowd

The family is evidently on some sort of excursion. The little boy skips happily ahead of his parents while his sister clings shyly to her mother's side, wide-eyed and curious as I pass by her on the pavement. The boy almost careers straight into me and is quickly reprimanded by his stern-faced father who grabs his arm and shuffles him along. The scene is almost timeless: four family members on an afternoon stroll that could be in any city on the planet, at any point in history. Except for one very obvious difference. The woman - presumably the mother of the two children - is covered from head to toe in black fabric that leaves nothing but her eyes visible to the outside world. She is faceless and shapeless, a black mark on the city landscape. This in itself is not necessarily surprising, in many parts of the world women choose to hide their modesty in garments that protect them not only from the burning rays of the sun but also from the unwanted stares of strangers. Indeed, I myself have spent a considerable amount of time in these countries and made a concerted effort to speak with and understand the women that choose to dress in this fashion, and I am no longer made uncomfortable by the sight of a black figure walking down the street whether it be in Syria, Jordan, Morocco or Turkey. But this is Marylebone, in central London.

The vision of this shadowy women, seemingly transplanted from the bustling souqs and bazaars of the Arab world into the cold, grey streets of Britain's capital city has made me realise that the current controversy surrounding the issue of the burqa is not a debate that is being played out in some far-flung corner of this earth that will have no impact on our daily lives, it is a very real, very pressing issue that is polarising people the world over and turning them against each other in the fight for truth and justice. And it is a fight that is being played out in our own backyard.

Personally, I am highly respectful of the choices other people make in the way they comport themselves - whether that be the way they dress, eat, work, play or any other of the multitude of things that characterise a human being. I recognise that many women feel it is their religious duty to cover their faces in public, and no matter what the arguments are, for or against the explicit requirements of Islam or the textual exegeses of the Qur'an, the very fact that some women believe they have no choice but to wear the burqa or the niqab out of religious observance makes it true. To press the point further, I don't believe any government or institution has the right to dictate what a person can, or cannot wear, and that the new laws recently passed in France and Belgium set a dangerous precedent in the quest for individual sovereignty and self-determination. Spurious claims about purported "security risks" seem to do nothing but mask an ugly and dangerous undercurrent of Islamophobia that is threatening the mainstream liberal and secular values the Western world holds so dear.

But no matter how much I rationalise it to myself, I can't escape the feeling of unease and foreboding as the robed figure sweeps past me on a London street. 

The question we must ask ourselves is not why is the burqa being attacked by the West, but why is it being attacked now? After all, the burqa has been around since long before the Prophet Mohammed received his revelations in the Arabian desert ; women of all religions and of all sects have been covering their faces in the name of humility for centuries without anyone deeming it inappropriate or offensive in any way. Why, suddenly, is it no longer acceptable for a devout Muslim (or someone of any other religious denomination) to conceal her modesty in the way she feels appropriate and in the way she feels her faith requires? The answer to that question is as simple as it is worrying. Because the burqa is no longer a mere garment - it has become a symbol loaded with all the connotations and menace of an unexploded bomb. In some Muslim countries, perhaps, cultural and societal norms still dictate a certain level of personal modesty for women that would be considered overly stringent in other parts of the world. But in the West, where centuries of political and social thought have led to a culture of liberal and secular values (however right or wrong these may be - in no way do I intend to make the imperialistic claim that the West is morally superior to any other culture in any respect), those women who choose to wear garments that partially or wholly conceal their identity in public are directly violating the principles of the society in which they live. To wear the burqa or the niqab in a Western country is to deliberately reject the founding principles of Western society, and turns what was once a mere piece of fabric into a political, rather than a religious, symbol.

That is not to say that I believe every woman who chooses to wear the burqa or the niqab in the West does so as a deliberate provocation or political statement - she may indeed sincerely believe that the way she dresses is entirely dictated by her religious faith. But it would be short-sighted at best to suggest that she is not aware of the issues surrounding radical Islam in the West, or that in some way her choice to continue dressing the way she does makes her more likely to come down on the side of the Muslim community if ever she were forced to choose. The burqa itself is just the physical manifestation of a deeper rift that has driven through Western society; one that threatens to destroy the very foundations on which we have built our lives. 

The bottom line in the whole ridiculous controversy is that although banning the burqa would be "un-British" (in the words of immigration minister Damian Green) by undermining the British notions of tolerance and individual liberty, the very act of wearing a burqa is itself deeply un-British. To cut oneself off from others and define oneself predominantly according to one's faith is a custom that cannot, and should not be tolerated here - not because it prevents the person in question from participating fully in British society (itself a questionable argument) but because it creates barriers between people and between communities and leaves us with a fragmented and disillusioned society.

On the other hand, we should also be respectful of all individuals and communities and not let our own unease muddy the waters of political and social discourse. I think an important point to note here is that it is not just in the West that the burqa is seen as a symbol of radical Islam: many Muslim countries also frown on the wearing of such garments and some governments (notably those of Syria, Tunisia, Egypt and Turkey) have already prepared the ground for an outright ban by disallowing women to cover their faces in schools and universities. (Indeed, I even wrote an article outlining this point for the Sunday Express: http://www.express.co.uk/posts/view/203189/Burkha-ban-racist-Why-do-Islamic-states-do-so-then-).
So if the argument in favour of the burqa depends on the premise that the West is merely attacking it out of an inadvertent racism or Islamophobia, then it doesn't have a leg to stand on. The fact is that the burqa is being attacked from both sides - East and West - as an out-dated and backward-looking cultural practice that objectifies women and facilitates their mistreatment by men.

But to follow in the footsteps of either France or Belgium is certainly not the answer, and would do nothing but play into the hands of Islamic extremists - not to mention the fact that it would go against the liberal principles of our society. It seems then, that there is no easy option. Either we continue to tolerate the burqa in the streets of Britain and unwillingly provide a breeding-ground for a politicised and radical form of Islam; or we betray our own values and dictate what the individual can or cannot wear, setting a dangerous precedent for the future. What is needed here is for those on both sides of the issue to let go of their prejudices and come to an agreement that will foster a sense of mutual respect and acceptance from all communities. We cannot have a society in which people are driven apart by their differences and cannot accommodate one another. Divided, we shall fall. We need to take off our blinkers and come together, united, to repair the rifts that have fragmented our society. Because the alternative doesn't even bear thinking about.