An interesting discussion going on at The Sharpener about Jack Straw’s objections to Muslim women wearing veils. Sunny opens the piece by saying exactly what I thought when I heard about the controversy,
Imagine if a Muslim MP declared that he had asked his female visitors to cover-up if they were ‘inappropriately’ dressed.
One of the comments can, I think, be readily dismissed:
Tell you what. Imagine moving to abroad to a Muslim country and claiming the right for you and your descendants to wander half-dressed through the streets. And be drunk as well if you feel like it. I think that’s the kind of thing which is frowned on as culturally insensitive and not really a good idea as it offends local sensibilities. The difference being ?
An obvious difference is that such behaviour would be illegal in those countries. Wearing a burqua isn’t illegal here, where we tolerate all manner of sartorial eccentricities. My sensibilities are frequently offended by many of the half-naked drunks one sees on the streets every summer; the blokes’ appearance, in particular, would often be greatly improved by burquas, but I’m not going to insist on it.
Rachel, though, writes more thoughtfully about how she feels uncomfortable with women wearing a niqab, as the things are apparently called, and expresses pretty much what Jack Straw seemed to be saying;
I’m not comfortable with a niqab because I am not comfortable with why someone would want to make such an extreme political statement that they must know acts as a barrier and unsettles people.
While I normally hesitate to disagree with Rachel, I think here I must do. With respect, I don’t the woman wearing a niqab necessarily thinks she is making an extreme political statement; she may so be doing — and, if she is, well, she can make whatever extreme political statements she wants, surely, so long as she doesn’t break the law — but I’d hazard a guess that she’s just as likely dressing the way she feels comfortable with because she’s used to it.
It seems a distinctly odd way of dressing to me, too, but what of it? She’s not dressing for my benefit. It might well be argued that wearing a sari or a shalwar kamiz in some ways acts as a barrier — my first wife, a Ugandan Asian, certainly found she got a very different reaction she was wearing her Indian clothes rather than her European ones, since people immediately saw her as ‘an Indian woman’ and tended to bring to the situation all manner of preconceptions. Being bloody-minded, of course, she reacted to this by wearing Indian clothes more and more, partly on the argument that it did no harm for people to realise that someone who looked like a very traditional Indian woman wasn’t necessarily quite what they were expecting.
Rachel goes on to say,
It seems incredibly political to make such a statement, and yes, you can do that ,but what is the point if it takes over everything that you are and gets in the way of meaningful interaction with your fellow humans?
Well, doesn’t it rather depend on with which of your fellow humans you want meaningfully to interact on a particular occasion? My interaction with most of my fellow humans much of the time is limited to trying not walk into each other on the street, or paying them in a shop or whatever. Those with whom I have a more meaningful interaction are those whose attention doesn’t stop at what I’m wearing.
I know what Rachel means, of course; I used to live in the next flat to an Iranian couple and she wore a full niqab (burqua? You could just see her eyes, anyway). I felt a bit odd passing the time of day with her, but she seemed perfectly happy with it, so who was I to object? My wife got quite chummy with her, and according to her, the Iranian lady reckoned she just felt more comfortable thus clad when she was outside the house. She knew what effect it had, and that bothered her a bit, but she’d have felt very odd not wearing her full gear.
That’s the reason I’m not sure that the analogy with European women — considerate and well-mannered ones, anyway — covering up when they visit some other countries works too well; the difference it that it doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable or odd particularly (or so I’d have thought). Rachel writes,
I wouldn’t walk round in a Muslim country drunk, or bare-shouldered, in a mini skirt, because it would upset and unsettle and offend people
but presumably she doesn’t particularly mind wearing sleeves or trousers/a long skirt anyway (it might be hot, I suppose). I’d certainly feel a bit odd wearing a dhoti out of deference to local sensibilities if people insisted on such a thing in India. I’d accommodate them if they made a big issue of it, but I’d think it rather odd that they insisted on my so doing.
As to Jack Straw feeling uncomfortable with the mode of dress of some of his constituents, I can’t help but think that if that really is a problem for the poor man, he and they have an obvious solution come the next election. If he finds it difficult to talk to them under such circumstances, well, tough; it’s them who’re asking him to do something, and if they put obstacles in his way, then it’s their fault if they don’t get the results they want. If it becomes too much of a problem, then they’ll presumably find a new MP. I’m sure Craig Murray wouldn’t have had these difficulties.
Technorati tag: UK, Religion, civil liberties, Islam, Jack Straw