When the debate on the hijab raged in France a little while ago, I found myself firmly defending the right of girls to wear the hijab to school. But now I find the shoe is on the other foot. I find myself sympathetic to Jack Straw, the former British foreign secretary, and others who have followed him in expressing a growing unease at dealing with women wearing a full-face veil.
There is a world of difference between the hijab and the niqab. The hijab is a form of dress based on modesty. It leaves a woman relatively free to interact with others, to drive a car, to chop vegetables, to operate machinery, to see a computer screen or to stand in front of a classroom and teach.
The second is a veil in the true sense of the word. It hides and separates. It also physically impedes a woman from fully interacting with others, chopping vegetables, operating machinery or doing any number of every— day tasks which require the full use of the five senses.
Both can be considered religious customs. My personal view is that neither is a religious dictate, but this is irrelevant to this debate. If a woman believes that wearing the hijab or covering herself up in a niqab is her religious duty then I must accept and respect that belief. I cannot ask her to take off her hijab or her face covering at the door of the school or the hospital as if it were merely a fashion item. However as a patient or as a parent, I have the right to expect the highest level of care. Hence I believe that it is entirely correct that Kirklees Council suspended the teacher Aishah Azmi because she was not prepared to teach without a face cover. Their duty is toward their pupils. Teaching is based on complex interaction between student and teacher. This interaction requires the student to make eye contact, to see the lips move as they speak, to register facial expressions and to build a relationship of sorts — all of which is severely impeded if the teacher’s face is covered, even if there are peep holes for the eyes.
Mrs. Azmi was suspended not because she is Muslim but because she is unable to perform her job to the standard that parents have a right to expect for their children. If she believes that it is her religious duty to wear the full-face veil — as she does — then clearly she cannot be asked to remove it, but neither can she expect to teach in a mixed-gender environment. I have no doubt that Aishah Azmi is a dedicated and capable teacher but she should be teaching at a single-gender school where she can be free to teach without a face cover. Clearly she knows this since she did not wear a face covering to her job interview at the school.
There are a host of jobs that Muslims cannot undertake. Some, like wine tasting, are out of bounds for men and women. Others, like being a lifeguard, are out of bounds for veiled women. It is in the nature of the job. It is ludicrous to cry racial discrimination because the job we wish to do is incompatible with our religious customs.
All of this has stirred up the debate on integration in Britain. Jack Straw who started this particular snowball rolling revealed that he asked women who visited him at his constituency to remove their face veils. He did this in a highly respectful manner: It was a request, not a condition; there was always someone else present in the room and most importantly it was not done with any malicious intent. I can understand his unease at speaking to someone behind a veil. I can also understand his contention that you cannot build trust and understanding if you cannot see the facial expression of your interlocutor. I agree with him fully though I worry about its implications. It is hard enough for a citizen to visit their MP without also having to contend with lifting their veils. But since it is merely a request, where is the harm? They are free to say they prefer to stay veiled.
The problem of course is that this debate has become highly politicized and comes at a time when the Muslim community in Britain feels increasingly targeted. But the debate is one that needs to take place.
And then I read the news and I notice that in Tunisia, a Muslim country, there is a law banning women from wearing the heap in public places. It is not a new law, and Tunisia is not the only Muslim country to have such a law — Turkey for instance has similar rules banning women from covering up in public institutions — but this law is being applied with renewed vigor and Tunisian politicians have been stressing the incompatibility of the hijab with modernity. Morocco has also recently moved to discourage women from wearing head covers. It is a similar discourse, one which questions the reasoning behind the wearing of head scarves and face covers and which aims to separate the religious from the political. Are women veiling out of genuine religious belief or is it more of a political statement?
I find myself increasingly torn. It is unacceptable to me that a girl should be denied entry to a university or a school because she wears the hijab just as I find it unacceptable that a girl should be denied access because she is not wearing the hijab. It should be a matter of personal choice where girls are free to choose how they dress. So long as the way they dress does not interfere with their capacity to learn, it should not concern the educational authorities. At the same time, I share the concern about the politicization of female dress. I do feel increasingly alarmed by the trend toward full veiling.
In my view covering the face takes veiling a step beyond dress. For me, a woman who covers her face as well as her body is choosing to separate herself from the people around her. She is withholding her identity, hiding her emotional reactions and her personality. She is choosing to remain a stranger. It is no surprise that she generates mistrust.
