One of the controversies that has been raging in
Kerala for quite some time now is about a girl student’s decision to wear the
hijab to school. The school run by Christian nuns did not appreciate the girl’s
choice of religious identity over the school uniform and punished her by making
her stand outside the classroom. The matter was taken up immediately by a
fundamentalist Muslim organisation (SDPI) which created the usual sound and
fury on the campus as well as outside.
Kerala is a liberal state in which
Hindus (55%), Muslims (27%), and Christians (18%) have been living in fair though
superficial harmony even after Modi’s BJP with its cantankerous exclusivism
assumed power in Delhi. Maybe, Modi created much insecurity feeling among the
Muslims in Kerala too resulting in some reactionary moves like the hijab
mentioned above.
The school could have handled it
diplomatically given the general nature of Muslims which is not quite amenable
to sense and sensibility. From the time I shifted from Delhi to Kerala, I
taught in a school which had a few Muslim students. Some of the girls wore the
hijab, a few just made a show of it by putting it around the neck like an
adornment, and one or two went to the extent of removing it totally once they
reached the school. The school chose to ignore the issue. I think that was the
wisest decision. That piece of cloth didn’t really make any remarkable
difference to the school uniform.
Once I asked a girl why she wore that
headgear and the answer was: “tradition”. I was reminded of a song in the movie
The Fiddler on the Roof. The life of the Jews in
the movie is as precarious as that of the man who stands on top of a sloping
roof and plays his fiddle, a powerful metaphor in the movie. “How do we keep
our balance?” The protagonist asks. And he says that he can answer that
question in one word: tradition.
Tradition imposed a lot of
restrictions on Muslim women, mostly because of the masculine fear of women.
Caliph Ali (c 600-661) said that “Almighty Allah created sexual desire in ten
parts; then he gave nine parts to women and one to men.” The Prophet and a lot
of other men thought that women’s sexual desire was “untameable, dangerous and
thus requiring repression through strict codes of conduct” (Tariq Ali, The
Clash of Fundamentalisms).
Tariq Ali points out that the origin
of this fear of women lay in the pre-Islamic Arab society where women played a
central role in commerce, tribal politics and sex. Islam put an end to that
feminine dominance with a lot of codes of conduct including the hijab, niqab, and
chador.
As Muslim writer and sociologist
Fatema Mernissi said, that veil from the Arab world “which was intended to
protect them from violence in the street, would accompany them for centuries,
whatever the security situation of the city.” The hijab and other similar dress
items are vestiges of a ceaseless “civil war” in Mernissi’s view: war within
Islam between the masculine and the feminine. The veil is a symbol of the
repressed femininity.
I could only pity my Muslim girl
students. I couldn’t tell them that the piece of cloth they carried as an
appendage to the school uniform was a symbol of their subordination to a
repressive patriarchal system. Their men would have rushed to school to chop my
head off.
Yes, I had been warned from the time
I landed in Kerala to be wary of Muslims, particularly because I had the habit
of questioning certain traditions irreverently and vociferously, especially in
my writings. When I chose to buy a particular house in 2015, the year I shifted
to Kerala from Delhi, my relatives objected vehemently because the house stood
in a Muslim neighbourhood. “Dangerous,” I was told in no uncertain terms. I bowed
to their counsel.
My Muslim students weren’t any
different from the other students, however. Their menfolk outside were
remarkably different, I learnt gradually.
The girl in the Kochi school
mentioned at the start of this post was forced to wear the hijab to school by
certain fundamentalist men who wished to mark the Muslim identity on the
Christian campus. It was a political act. Nothing to do with religion. It was
much more than the “civil war” of Mernissi too. It was one of the many attempts
made by the Muslims to assert their dominance in the state. It is easy to do
that on a Christian campus. Imagine them trying to do something like that in
North India!
The Quran never asks the women to
wear any such headgear. It asks women to dress modestly and cover “their
adornments.” The word “adornments” has been interpreted variously by later
male exegetists. The design of that female dress code depends on the libido of
the male exegetist, in simple words.
Many Muslim writers like Leila Ahmed
and Fatima Mernissi think that the hijab and such other dress items are a
symbol of male control of the female. They argue that the veil is patriarchal
and not religious: an attempt to confine women’s influence by controlling their
visibility. The veil is a male tool to domesticate the feminine vitality.
At any rate, I don’t wish to meddle
with any religion’s traditions and dress codes. My view is that each individual
should be left to their personal choices when it comes to things like dress.
Simple.
A short story of mine
inspired by one of my Muslim girl students: Shahina lets her hair down
I recent watch a you tube video about veiling mainly woman, although a few men was part of it.
ReplyDeletehttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lLViPIKpIns
Men impose those veils on women in the name of religion and modesty. Actually it's about delimiting women's rights.
DeleteA good old controversy that keeps rearing its head in various forms at different times at various places. To me, uniform is uniform, which is something like a 'dress code'. Period.
ReplyDeleteThat's the ideal. But pragmatism overrides ideals sometimes. As I said in the post, some people lack sense and sensibility required for ideals to be implemented.
DeleteAfter my solitary, yet conspicuous presence at the Anti-CAA stir in 2020, in Vizag Municipal grounds, was my presence at the Pro-Hijab stance at the same grounds. Many looked at me askance and my stance vus-a-vis the Hijab. I was with the Muslim girlswho wished to wear them. Whatever e the persuasion behind - Quran, Ali, Nabi, Patriarchy or Misogyny.. Whatever. It is their Fundamental Right... That's it. Period. Like the French Revolution Trigger Voltaire told the young and upstart author, " My dear young guy, I do not agree with a wee bit of what you have written. But defend, I shall, if need be with my blood, you freedom to say, what you wish to say. "
ReplyDeleteRather surprised that you were a part of pro-hijab movement. Of course, I understand your stand on individual liberty and respect it too. My understanding is that many girls wear the hijab out of compulsion. So where's the individual liberty?
DeleteRights Discourse is a changing and shifting landscape. When you were young, when you went to watch, Randidangazhi and Bharta or 'Pha'rya, as it is uttered in certain pockets of mid-Travacore, you had the Flag and the National Anthem played. But nobody bithered whether you stood up or not. But everybody stood, being patriotic. Now those who do not stand up are considered Bangladeshis and would be exiled to Pakistan. It is the surge of hypernationalism. NotSyrian to do with patriotism. So, Hijab can be a symbol of Identity assertion, of Rights. Wearing Hijab is discursivr practice, like Syrian Christian girls are adorning Or mad to wear the Traditional Syrian attire. Traditionalist sm Or Revivaliam.
ReplyDeleteHari Om
ReplyDeleteI agree with much here... though Maliekal-ji's pro-hijab stance is also understandable. Whilst I am concerned at the suppression of the feminine for male power and ego, I also know many Muslim women who are proud of their traditions and willingly wear hijab. Sadly, this is again something that has become, as you note, about politics and nothing else... YAM xx