The rich and the covered
I’m all for a decent burial, but only after I die. So while tempted to don the hijab in defiant reaction to prejudice against it in Australia while I lived there, several factors prevented me, but mainly the heat. A close second was the difficulty of explaining my antipathy to the hijab to my two small children even though I wore it. The third was the inconvenience of managing the children, a job and a home while battling extra garments, and the fourth the conviction that one’s personal appearance should be dictated by personal views in the light of certain beliefs, not social pressure. I could align myself as definitely if more sensibly in other, better ways.
Therefore I remained as before, practically and decently but less expensively dressed.
It is a moot point whether hijabs/niqabs/abayas are prescribed by Islam.
Everyone knows that the Quran enjoins modesty on all believing men and all believing women. In the case of women, it expects them not to display their beauty in public, and to draw their outer garments over themselves when out of doors. There are various interpretations of what constitutes a woman’s beauty, her outer garments, etc. It is not the remit of this column to cover any of this.
A reason for not adopting the hijab in Australia was the heat. This remains an argument against this headdress anywhere and at anytime, also prompting the question whether the All Merciful enjoined this headdress in fanless times. It is not unusual, says the BBC, for temperatures from May to September ‘over much of the Arabian Peninsula, with the exception of the mountains, to rise above 48°C/120°F.’
Clothing most suitable for such temperatures is pale, lose cotton that covers against the burning sun, yet allows free circulation of air. This cannot include two layers of tight head covering, nor a veil over the face, and nor can it mean a coat, however light, over an inner dress, however thin, not to mention a third layer of the foundation garments worn by women. Layering, as those who have lived in cooler climates know, is the best way to keep warm, not cool.
It would take just one week for men (the main interpreters of religion) forced to wear such clothes to say “pshaw” and hotly defend this argument. It is a measure of women’s suppression that they dressed this way for years.
The working women of Pakistan, the cleaning ladies and those who work in the fields, wear shalwars that end short of the ankle, and light dupattas that shield the head and neck from the sun. Most, moreover, discard the dupatta when they work and hitch the shalwar up further to facilitate movement. You will almost never see one of these practical women in a hijab, or abaya as the outer coat is called. They can’t afford them, they can’t work in them.
Teachers wearing the niqab cannot make essential eye contact, and remembering Lal Masjid and Abdul Aziz tantalisingly clad in a burqa, it is also a security issue.
I lay myself open to recrimination by saying that the hijab, niqab and abaya are mainly accessories of the rich, the tradition bound, and those dictated to, although many women wear them with the genuine intention of fulfilling the terms of their belief, as I do not. I respect their strength and vehemently defend their right to their convictions thereby thumbing my nose at the French. Still, the majority of those clad this way live in air conditioned homes with UPS and generators, two drawing rooms for segregation, servants, and money enough to buy the extra fabric.
Modesty is an attitude which applies as much to men as it does to women – bottom pinchers of Bohri Bazaar take heed.
I, as a Muslim, defend the right of any Muslim to interpret this beautiful religion of Islam any which peaceful way he chooses, hopefully with intelligence. I also defend the right of any person to try to convince another of the validity of his arguments and interpretation. I reject and hopefully most Muslims reject with me the supposed right of anyone to harm anyone else on the basis of these views. Such violence is what is destroying this country.
I would dearly love Islam to be the foundation of any edifice we build. However, like all beautiful things, Islam can be twisted, sometimes into an ugly shape, just like the one we see today. I’ve said this before, but unless we learn to build rather than break in its name, we must lay Islam to one side on the public front, and start the long trudge along the hard road of human error with every successive generation.
