Cheryl Marie Cordeiro

Photo from Photobucket.

Growing up in a multi-racial, multi-religious and as such, multi-ethnic dress codes nation as Singapore, I never thought twice about each ethnic group’s choice of dress, they being normalized as part of the larger socio-cultural fabric of Singapore from when I was very young. The hijab worn by Muslim women in Singapore is most common, where I understood from fellow female classmates who were Muslim, that it was a matter of personal choice what to wear and when to begin wearing their hijabs.

The niqab and the burqa however would draw slightly more attention in Singapore even today, because of its fuller head to toe covering. But being pragmatists, Singaporeans are most likely to ponder its practicality in choice of clothes worn under the sometimes punishing tropical heat and humidity, wondering how the wearer would fare under those layers of dress when those in t-shirts, shorts and sandals have problems keeping talcum fresh?

The debate around the niqab and the burqa in Europe, most notably because of France’s consideration on banning the burqa, comes from an array of perspectives other than practicality of dress, from how the dress does not conform to the European cultural identity (a point of view that is highly debatable considering the mobility of people these days), to religious freedom without steering towards radicalism and perhaps the most common theme, the head to toe covering as a means of the oppression of women:

“It will not be welcome on French soil,” he said.” We cannot accept, in our country, women imprisoned behind a mesh, cut off from society, deprived of all identity. That is not the French republic’s idea of women’s dignity.” ~ French President Nicholas Sarkozy, in an article by Emma Jane Kirby BBC News, 22 January 2010.

From the Swedish Prime Minister, Fredrik Reinfeldt and leader of the Swedish Social Democratic Party, Mona Sahlin:

“Det är ett uttryck för kvinnoförtryck, [it is a sign of opression of women] sade Reinfeldt i en debatt med Socialdemokraternas ledare Mona Sahlin i Sveriges Radio.”

“Mona Sahlin vill inte ha något förbud av den typen i Sverige, men anser också hon att heltäckande slöja är uttryck för kvinnoförtryck.” [Mona Sahlin does not want a ban of this type in Sweden, but it is her opinion too that a fully covering veil is sign of female opression] ~ Dagens Nyheter published on 27 January 2010.

The same opinion is put forth by Norska Arbeiderpartiets spokesperson on immigration, Lise Christoffersen, i Aftenposten.

As a linguist I can’t help noticing that three of the most important political leaders in Scandinavia are not arguing against female oppression, but against the symbol for it.

From Daily Telegraph writer James Delingpole is also of the point of view of Sarkozy, noting,

‘The freedom’ [Obama] is granting US Muslim women to wear the veil is in fact the most surefire way of guaranteeing their continued subservience. ~ also in Finding Dulcinea

And while the humanitarian intentions are positive on the surface so long as no deeper political motives are uncovered, the perspective of the veil as oppression is not difficult to understand from those who do not wear it in their culture. And as social constructionism (Berger and Luckmann, 1966) would have it, it would be down right difficult for us who do not have the burqa in our culture to view it any other way than as oppressive, our point of view being coloured by our ‘reality’. Even I would feel more comfortable in a qipao and kebaya than a full covering of the burqa, simply because the former ethnic dresses are part of my cultural heritage whilst the latter isn’t. Any fuller coverings than what I think is already a modest long sleeved, ankle brushing kebaya would make me feel restricted in movement and worse, contribute to a feeling of complete loss of my social identity where I become faceless and voiceless.

But for those whose socio-cultural and religious heritage means bearing the niqab and the burqa, how powerless and subservient are the women behind the veil really?
Continue reading “Feminine power behind the veil: who’s voices are we hearing?” →