• Women’s right to make their own decisions amidst policing of clothing in the home, community, and by the State

By Nabeela Iqbal I was eleven years old when I attained age and wanted to hide it from my entire class. I went to a Christian girls’ school, but had a close-knit group of Muslim friends, and at the time, growing up came with the next step of covering my hair and wearing longer and more covered clothing. While my friends were excited about this next change in life, I was uneasy about wearing the hijab. I was also too scared to face my friends in class, so I asked my mother to write a letter of excuse for the week-long absence that came with becoming a “big girl” and sent it privately to my class teacher so that it would be a secret between me and her. Unfortunately, the messenger of this letter (also a classmate of mine) read it, and the entire class got to know. After a week I showed up in class, without a head scarf. I think some of the comments I received at the time from friends who were also children, and teacher in charge of religion still haunt me a little. I was the “girl who will burn in hell” and was a shame to my parents, a bad Muslim who was bringing dishonour to my entire community; a Muslim, but only in name.   The freedom to choose   I only recently told my close Muslim sisters from activist groups about this experience. We laughed a little, and also spoke about how in different aspects of our lives, whether to wear a hijab or not, it is always our decision, to which society seems to be unfeeling. It made me think about how I have never felt safe sharing this with anyone else because there is sometimes no space for empathy, if it is interpreted as a sin. Meaning that the reply would be, “you want us to feel sorry for you, but you are doing something wrong”.  Also, bullying in the name of religion is not looked at as bullying – it’s called advice. I resonate with the fact that our ability to practise our faith well is limited by the extent of our empathy. My sisters and I also spoke about our choices. If it is our choice, then what other choices were given to us? Were we allowed to make a fully informed decision? Forcing anyone to cover or reveal their bodies takes away their agency, the ability to decide and behave for themselves, and that itself becomes an affront to God. I told them about a message I always get from men when it comes to this topic: A picture of a lollipop that is covered with a wrapper that keeps the flies away, while another lollipop is uncovered and infested with maggots. So in this instance, we are candy. Just that we are things that need to be protected (from who or what, I wonder), and that our role is to adjust to this expectation.   Policing by the State   What happens when this level of policing is carried out by State actors? Mahsa Amini was murdered by Iran’s morality police (Gasht-e-Ershad) while she was detained for “improper” observance of the compulsory hijab laws in Iran. Her passing has called for nationwide protests in Iran, particularly a symbolic protest of mourning where women cut their hair.  Nika Shakarami was only 16 years old when her family located her body at a mortuary 10 days after she went missing. She was last seen burning her headscarf in protest. Her mother claims that she was murdered at the hands of the security forces. Sarina Esmailzadeh, another 16-year-old, died after being severely beaten on the head with batons by security forces. On 16 October, Iranian sportswoman Elnaz Rakebi competed in the climbing competition at the Asian Championships held in South Korea. She had claimed that her hijab had accidentally fallen off during her climb. While Iran has stated that she will be flying back to Tehran, her friends are distressed because they cannot contact her, and are concerned she will be imprisoned upon her return. The act of burning the hijab has been criticised by some Muslims as an act against the religion, largely by women from the West, where their choice is already weaponised against them. However, the hijab in Iran is a symbol that has been used by the State to control and abuse women. Is it really our place to tell them how they can protest this?   Hypocrisy   Solidarity also comes with hypocrisy. French, Indian, and Israeli celebrities are cutting their hair on social media in support of the women in Iran, while the Muslim women in their home countries are under regressive State policies for just being Muslim women.  In 2021, France banned girls under the age of 18 from wearing the hijab in public and in 2022, India’s Karnataka state ruled that the hijab is “not essential” to Islam and upheld the order that had banned headscarves in classrooms. India is no stranger to the heavy influence of the BJP, which is extremely Islamophobic, where Muslims are currently discriminated against and face communal violence. Young 22-year-old activist Afreen Fatima’s house was bulldozed in Uttar Pradesh under suspicion of being responsible for anti-Government protests. There is no need to look too far to notice similar trends of controlling women’s attire and decisions. In the aftermath of the Easter Sunday Attacks in 2019, Muslim women took up the brunt of racial profiling. Although the garments were not mentioned, the niqab and burka were banned in the name of protecting national security.  In 2021, the Sri Lankan Cabinet passed a ban on full-face veils during the time of the pandemic, even when the Ministry of Health had mandated facemasks in public spaces. The women were not consulted in these decisions. In 2019, the All-Ceylon Jamiyyathul Ulama (ACJU) gave the greenlight to the Government for women to remove the face veil. So now it’s on the Muslim women themselves to worry about their safety, choice, and ability to access public spaces that they used to easily frequent. In 2022, a schoolteacher at Sri Shanmuga Hindu Ladies College, Trincomalee was threatened and assaulted for wearing an abaya when she had arrived to resume her duties. The Human Rights Commission had recommended to the school to allow the complainant to wear her dress of choice, which is the abaya, and be allowed to continue her work. She was allegedly strangled at the scene, and teachers of the school had encouraged students to protest against the abaya. On a different note, there is a banner hung at Fathima Girls’ Vidyalayam in Oddamavadi with a statement to the female teachers and students in the school. The banner mentions that the black abaya, burka, and jilbab are the correct attire, and such attire in any other colours are wrong. It also carries a misinterpreted quote by the Prophet (peace be on his name) claiming that “women who wear perfume are prostitutes”. Cheek by jowl, these two worlds exist. I think about the constant anxiety and lack of control women are faced with everyday just because someone else prefers making their decisions. Not only deciding, but also monitoring and controlling them. Will women someday feel free to exist and decide for themselves and not be condemned for it? Will states stop feeling insecure every time a woman decides to pick her own outfit? As long as there is injustice, there will always be resistance. So while we are in solidarity with the women in Iran and around the world, what about us needs individual reflection to break down internalised biases to stop the age-old tradition of policing women’s decisions in the home, community and country? (The writer is an activist in peacebuilding. In 2020, she was recognised by Amnesty International as a young human rights defender in the face of the pandemic. She founded and leads Sisterhood Initiative, which creates platforms for Muslim women to share experiences, discussions and build communities with each other) The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author, and do not necessarily reflect those of this publication.