We are two American Muslim women who strongly identify with our faith. We are two Georgetown University seniors who remain active and involved with the Muslim Students Association. One of us wears a headscarf, known in Arabic as a hijab. The other does not. The right to wear the headscarf — without censure, condemnation or patronizing pity — is a right we both defend. In that same regard, the decision not to wear the headscarf is a right that all women should possess.
The headscarf debate has gained international publicity as of late due to a decision by the secular Turkish government to uplift the ban from government buildings and public universities on women who chose to cover their hair. The ban was meant to assert Turkey’s secular, European identity and effectively remove visible expressions of Islamic piety from the public sphere. The ultimately prevailing argument held that European values and Islam are not opposed to each other and that preserving women’s rights to cover their hair is an affirmation of freedom and democracy.
The example of Turkey is not unique. The notion of the sexually exotic but tragically repressed Muslim woman has resided within the Western consciousness since the West first interacted with the Muslim world. In a 2007 article which appeared in Islamica Magazine, Mohja Kahf, a professor at the University of Arkansas, links this hackneyed character to the “era of Romantic literature, and the Byronic plot of a white man saving a harem girl [that] continued to thrive in the heyday of European colonialism, feeding a white Christian supremacist hero complex.”
In modern times, the veil has become an emotionally charged symbol of the struggle between tradition and modernity, between Islam and the West. It has arguably served as a partial political justification for certain policies spearheaded by the United States to “liberate Muslim women” in Afghanistan or Iraq. We, as American Muslim women, simply by living our dual identity, demand a reevaluation of this externally imposed dichotomy. As Americans, it is not our place to speak on behalf of the women of other nations. What we can do is share our experiences and insights into what hijab means to us in the United States.
Muslim women are not a monolithic entity. One might think that this sentence is stating the obvious, yet we often encounter peers and professors alike who fail to understand that the abstract concepts they encounter in academia do not take the same invariable form when actualized in the lives of real people. It is only to be expected, then, that the reasons and motivations behind wearing the headscarf, and the form it takes, are not uniform. Many assume that a covered woman is a repressed woman, forced by some male authority figure to dress a certain way. In reality, it is this profoundly prejudiced projection of ignorance onto our beliefs that is constraining, insulting, and, in a twisted, hypocritical gesture of concern, it serves only to undermine our autonomy and intelligence. (MORE)
Hafsa Kanjwal is a senior in the School of Foreign Service and Khadijeh Zarafshar is a senior in the College. Both served on the board of the GU Muslim Students Association.