By Aparna Pande
This article appeared in Chowk on October 16, 2006
The question of what women wear on their heads has once again become an issue in the media. Does a small piece of black cloth really warrant this much of discussion, especially by those know nothing about its history but claim the right to decide its future?
The principle involved is not just freedom but also toleration. The freedom to wear what we want (within the limits of decency) and correspondingly the toleration of the views, beliefs and cultures of our fellow humans.
The champions of the ‘anti-hijab’ movement claim that women are being forced to wear this ‘black piece of cloth’ and the only way out is to ensure that it is banned. For support they look to the banning of the headscarf by Kemal Ataturk in Turkey and by the Shah of Iran. The Dutch parliament recently banned wearing of the burkhas in public places and three Flemish towns even instituted this ban.
The former British Foreign Minister Jack Straw recently said that “there is an issue here” when asked for his opinions on the hijab. The Daily Express carried out a survey of its readers asking them for their views on banning the veil; over 97% thought banning the veil would help racial harmony.
My grandmother and most of my aunts covered their head but they were among the most liberated women I have met in my life. And, yes, I am a Hindu, not a Muslim. Many Hindu women cover their heads, though we don’t have the hijab.
My grandmother was a poetess and a social worker. At a young age, in a tradition-bound India, she traveled in the villages on two-wheelers with no one but a fellow male co-worker. There were not many female social workers in the 19450s-60s in India who would travel into the rural mountainous heartland; but my grandmother was one of them.
A petite woman and frail woman she had more stamina than most men. Fluent in English she was very fond of Hollywood movies; often going to watch Greta Garbo and Betty Midler alone in the local cinema hall. Yet, she covered her head and rarely ever left it bare.
I once asked her why she covered her head and with childlike innocence even told her that it represented a ‘repression’ of women and women’s rights. Smilingly she said, “it does not matter what is on top of the head, what matters is what lies beneath.”
She was right and in her own way she was doing her bit; for a day when women, even with covered heads, would be educated, emancipated and able to choose their own destiny.
The 2006 Nobel Peace Prize has been given to Muhammad Yunus and the Grameen Bank; a bank which lends money to women and not men. Many women in South Asia, both Hindus and Muslims, cover their heads.
Uncovering their heads was not a demand that the Grameen bank made before giving them loans. They still cover their heads and are still housewives; But the confidence which the financial independence has given them is something which a campaign solely focused on ‘unveiling’ could never have accomplished.
The issue is not whether or not one should wear a veil or cover one’s head. I think it is something which needs to be left to both the individual person as well as society. Veiling or covering of one’s head is both a social and a cultural issue.
Some women cover their heads as they believe that this is what is demanded of them by society and others do it because they feel more confident or ‘protected from another man’s glare’ if they cover their heads. The belief is also that the hijab or burkha are a sort of ‘protection’ from the evil eye of society or of other men.
Veils were worn by women in Europe during the Victorian era and earlier decades. As women became educated and financially more independent the need to protect oneself from a man’s glare or the ‘confidence’ which wearing the veil gave started losing its utility. Economic and educational independence was the reason.
Society did not institute a banning of veils, rather over a period of time society changed and the veil vanished. Similar is the case of the hijab and the burkha. Education, emancipation and free will are needed not forced bans.
What is often forgotten is that banning or forcing someone to do something, which they believe is part of their culture or religion, often has adverse impacts. The ban on headscarves in Turkey did not force all Turkish women to stop wearing it; it only prevented those who wore a headscarf from participating in public life.
In this fast-paced world of colliding cultures we must never lose sight of our main aim. If the goal is to emancipate women and help them become independent then education and schemes like the Grameen Bank deserve our focus.
If, however, we are more concerned more with what ’lies on top of the head’ and not ’what lies beneath’ then banning headscarves and burkhas is the right policy.