FSB Author Article
That Veil Thing
By Sumbul Ali-Karamali
Author of The Muslim Next Door
Recently, Roqaya Al-Gassra from Bahrain competed in the Beijing
Olympics wearing a head scarf and a full-length suit. I was surprised
that her running gear did not occasion more comment. But if wearing a
modest track suit allows her to compete in a sport that she wouldn't
otherwise feel comfortable competing in, I think that's wonderful. I've
already seen posts from several Muslim women cheering her on for
solidarity's sake, and I empathize. But I'm left feeling vaguely
troubled, because in all the discussions about Muslim head-scarves, I
frequently see a gaping black hole.
And that is the question of whether head-covering is required in the
first place. Although Muslims rightly celebrate al-Gassra's
demonstration that adherence to religious dress is not an obstacle to
Olympic dreams, they assume that al-Gassra's head-covering is an
Islamic requirement. How wonderful, they say, that Islamic dress did
not prevent al-Gassra from being a world-class runner!
But what's Islamic dress? And is a head-covering required? Both Muslims
and non-Muslims in recent years assume that it's a clear edict. Add to
that Iran's and Saudi Arabia's state-enforced requirement of the
head-covering, and the issue transforms from a personal question of
faith to a politically charged one.
When I grew up in Southern California, the "mosque" I attended was
simply a group of families gathering in someone's garage to teach their
kids some rudimentary aspects of religion. Gradually, as more families
joined, we rented a community center. Eventually, we bought our own
building, complete with parking lot. The women who came to our mosque
were nearly all immigrants of various nationalities. But very few
covered their hair. Those who didn't would have told you that Islam
didn't require it and that head-covering was a personal choice.
I myself do not cover my hair, except -- as all Muslim women do -- when
I pray. However, even custom is not as absolute as we are taught to
think; some scholars cite evidence showing that in very early Islam,
women even prayed with their heads uncovered.
Recently, when I enrolled my kids in classes at the local mosque, I was
told that my daughter and I both had to cover our hair (indeed, that
only our faces and hands and feet could show) just so she could attend
the classes. When I objected that head-covering was not unanimously
required in Islam, and certainly not required for 8-year-old girls, I
was unequivocally told that yes it was, it was perfectly clearly
required: neither I nor my daughter could come to Sunday School without
covering my hair. We didn't last very long at that mosque.
What has happened in the intervening years?
Starting in the late 1970s, Saudi-style Islam -- called Wahabi or
Salafi -- began to purposefully influence Muslims world-wide by funding
mosques with Wahabi imams and granting stipends to those who promoted
their brand of Islam. Wahabism, founded in the 18th century, has always
been considered extreme in its theology, and was rejected by mainstream
Islamic scholars throughout the years. It has never qualified as one of
the Islamic schools of thought that mutually recognize one another as
valid.
The Saudis, though comprising less than 2 percent of the world's
Muslims, have disproportionately influenced Muslim practice (as well as
the non-Muslim perception of Islam) for several reasons: they have more
wealth than any other Muslim nation; they control the Muslim holy
cities of Mecca and Medina; and they have Western allies. The Saudi
type of Islam -- though it portrays itself as the true form of Islam --
is very much intermingled with conservative, patriarchal Arab culture.
The religious authorities in Saudi Arabia interpret Islam in such a way
that women are not allowed to drive, vote, show their hair, or be alone
with men unrelated to them. But this philosophy is out of step with 90
percent of the Muslim world.
Muhammad, the Prophet of Islam, never forced women to cover their hair.
Muhammad routinely included women in political and societal
discussions. He appointed at least one woman as the imam of her
mixed-gender household. Even in early Islam, a woman could be a qadi,
or judge. Women could be muftis, or qualified religious scholars. For
the seventh century, this was feminist, progressive thinking.
Last year, a radio program featured an American convert to Islam, one
who wore the niqab, or face-veil. (I had never seen one of these until
I was twenty-eight and had moved to London, where many Arab women
vacationed.) She insisted that the niqab was "recommended" and I must
admit that I felt -- despite my advocacy of diverse viewpoints --
really irritated. Face-veils, even in early Islam, were "recommended"
by a very small minority of men.
The Qur'an simply requires modesty for both men and women, and does so
in language nearly identical for men as for women. The Qur'an also
urges women to "draw their garments more closely upon themselves." But
even the early Islamic scholars did not agree on what constituted
modesty consistent with these verses. All agreed that the legs above
the knees must be covered, as well as the chest. Most, but not all,
asserted that only faces, hands, and feet should show. Very, very few
considered that faces should be covered. Therefore, as long as the
chest and legs above the knees are covered, there's room for personal,
valid interpretation of Islamic modesty.
However it's interpreted, nearly all scholars agreed that the purpose
of modesty was to prevent harm to women, who didn't have much power in
those days and whose head-coverings or veils were meant to convey a
protected status.
Moreover, in the 7th century, Islam spread across the Arabian peninsula
and into the Persian and Byzantine empires, where many women covered
their hair or wore veils as a sign of high social status (the women
working in the fields couldn't afford to be so encumbered). As the
Arabs ruled more cultures, they often absorbed the customs and
practices of those cultures. Islamic scholars were developing Islamic
doctrine concurrently with the spread of Islam, and could not have
helped but be influenced by cultural norms.
But that’s okay! The early Islamic discussion on appropriate
clothing took into account the established social practices and
cultural norms. Significantly, this aspect seems to be missing from
today's discussions on the hijab.
A woman should be able to dress how she wants. Of course there are
limits in the U.S., too, not just religious ones but cultural ones; for
instance, we don’t allow people to appear nude in public, and we
require that -- for the public safety -- driver's licenses should show
faces. But banning a headscarf is just as much a violation of personal
liberty as requiring one. In Turkey and France, where women have not
been allowed to wear headscarves in public institutions, scores of
women have tragically been denied the opportunity to attend school or
get jobs.
It's wonderful that Roqaya al-Ghassra participated in the Olympic games
dressed as she was, because the hijab is a choice, and it's not about
"religious dress" or oppression. It's a decision about modesty, the
same as wearing long sleeves instead of short or a high neckline
instead of a plunging one. Her choice is not the same as mine -- but it
doesn't have to be under Islam.
©2008 Sumbul Ali-Karamali
Author Bio
Sumbul Ali-Karamali grew up in
California frequently answering difficult questions about Islam and its
practices posed by friends, colleagues, and neighbors. ("What do you
mean you can't go to the prom because of your religion?") She holds a
B.A. from Stanford University and a J.D from the University of
California at Davis and earned a graduate degree in Islamic law from
the University of London's School of Oriental and African Studies. She
has served as a teaching assistant in Islamic Law at SOAS and a
research associate at the Centre of Islamic and Middle Eastern Law in
London. Her book, The Muslim Next Door, is available from White Cloud Press.
www.muslimnextdoor.com