The niqab and burqa are misogynistic garments. But is a ban really the answer?
Reform UK's question to Sir Keir Starmer about a burqa ban has reignited the debate on face coverings
Last week, Sarah Pochin, who recently won the Runcorn & Helsby by-election, asked the Prime Minister, Keir Starmer, if he would consider following the lead of several European countries in banning the burqa.
Cue a lot of outrage and the accusations of dog-whistle politics.
Now, I’ve no doubt that Pochin was being provocative when she asked the question. Is discussing the niqab or burqa such a huge concern?
Zia Yusuf certainly didn’t think so. The self-described “British Muslim patriot” said afterwards: "I do think it's dumb for a party to ask the PM if they would do something the party itself wouldn't do".
(Yusuf resigned as Reform chairman before re-joining the party less than 48 hours later.)
This isn’t even the first time that the subject has made the headlines.
Remember when Boris John, then Conservative MP for Uxbridge and South Ruislip, caused uproar by describing Muslim women who wear niqabs as “letterboxes”, and compared them to bank robbers?
Ironically, Johnson was actually arguing against a ban, as Denmark had done. But he went on to describe the niqab as “absolutely ridiculous”.
Prior to him Ken Clarke, then a Tory MP, once described it as a “kind of bag” and a “most peculiar costume”, while arguing it should be banned for Muslim giving evidence in court. I don’t recall him receiving much flak for his remarks at the time.
(Just a point on terminology here. While they are virtually similar, a burqa is a one-piece garment, mainly worn by Afghan women, that covers the whole body leaving just a mesh screen to see through. A niqab, which is what most people are thinking of when discussing the “burqa”, is a veil for the face that leaves the area around the eyes clear. However, as most people use the two terms interchangeably, so will I throughout the piece.)
My problem with the face veil is that it is not merely an item of clothing, but a symbol of subjugation, a walking cage for women. The idea behind it is that females are dangerously alluring creatures that they must be fully covered in the presence of adult males.
It is an offensive garment, and it should not be “racist” or “Islamophobic” to say so.
It’s also incredibly impractical. In a hotel where I stayed in Abu Dhabi earlier this month, I was eating breakfast in the restaurant when I noticed a woman wearing a niqab sitting opposite me. The veil was so high up that her eyes were barely a slit. I’m surprised she could even see much through it. The lady was struggling to eat her food, spooning each morsel under the flap of the veil. The men, meanwhile, were laughing and chatting carefree, having finished eating a long time ago.
You might be thinking, that’s probably her choice. But how can it be a free and fair decision when exclusively male scholars and imams teach girls from an early age that righteous women are modest and must be covered from head to toe?
And it’s not as if the niqab is even mandated in Islam. Plenty of Muslims dislike the niqab and see it as alien to their religion and culture.
When I went trekking in northern Pakistan in 2017, we saw a woman dressed in a black niqab, accompanied by a man. One of the porters, native to the region, looked at her and asked us: “What is this monstrosity? Why do they dress like that?”
Others argue that a ban would imprison women in their homes. There’s little evidence to support this, but at the same time, a full ban is a simplistic solution to a complex problem.
I would, however, support it being removed in situations where identity and security are an issue.
As for the argument that banning the veil is vital to integration, I’m not entirely convinced that would work either. Inaya Folarin Iman, founder of the Equiano Project, writes:
“[The bans] don’t aid integration, or strengthen people’s attachment to a nation’s way of life, let alone make people safer. And we know this from the experience of our European neighbours. France banned face coverings in public places in 2011, and parts of its Muslim population are arguably more alienated from the French mainstream than ever before – some violently so.”
Tory party leader Kemi Badenoch jumped on the bandwagon and insisted that employers should have the right to ban burqas in the workplace. I don’t know about you, but I can’t remember the last time I went to an office and met a woman wearing a niqab. In fact, I don’t think I’ve been to a doctor’s surgery or a shop, and was served by a woman wearing the niqab.
(Such women are unlikely to participate in wider life — which is quite sad if you think about it.)
Ah, you might counter, what about the Muslim countries that have banned it, are they being racist or Islamophobic?
In February, Kyrgyzstan became the latest country in central Asia to enforce a ban. Women who wear the veil in public can expect to be fined up to 20,000 som ($230 or £170).
Female Islamic clothing and men's beards have long been the focus of government campaigns in the region, where staunchly secular governments fear the rise of Islamic fundamentalism. Kyrgyz lawmakers have argued that the ban is needed for security reasons.
Other Central Asian countries, such as Tajikistan and Uzbekistan, have gone one step further and even banned the hijab, or headscarf, in schools, offices, and government buildings.
Police in such countries have been known to round up men with long beards, and then force them to shave off their facial hair.
Before you think this is limited to “strict Islamic” clothing, Tajikistan’s Education Ministry also banned Western-style miniskirts for students. Would those cheering a burqa ban support this too?
Do we really want to emulate such draconian countries? It might be the niqab or burqa today, but I doubt that’s where it will end.
Many of us have warned about the normalisation of ultra-conservative Islam, as demonstrated by the fact that we see Muslim primary school girls wearing hijabs. Therefore, it is absolutely vital that we challenge draconian modesty codes for women — religious or otherwise.
But we can’t do that if the debate is constantly shut down.