Recently, Ireland‘s Independent said that Turkey was in crisis because of a wife‘s headscarf _ Hayrunisa Gul, 42, wife of Foreign Minister Abdullah Gul, who had been named the ruling party‘s presidential candidate and was almost certain to win the post until he announced his withdrawal from the presidential race. Separately, a university student was denied access to study (her case failed in the International Court of Justice: she must get rid of the headdress to attend classes). A while back, a parliamentary member was denied citizenship. My question is: why are they so intimidated by this piece of cloth in our heads? All this time we make good friends and accept people wearing a cross in their chest, a tiny cap or turban in their head, and we never even mind half-naked classmates. Why does it matter to them that we cover our hair?
The issue of a piece of cloth on a Muslim woman‘s head that creates political debates in Europe right now makes me wonder about the true meaning of secularism. If you are secular, you don‘t care about what people do or don‘t wear. What happens now is that those who call themselves secular are fussing about a piece of cloth on our heads that harms no-one. It reminds me of my own unpleasant experience of rejection after my transformation as a Muslim woman.
There is always one most puzzling question for me, which I have been asked several times: "Why are you wearing headdress?" I‘ve heard it in Indonesia, from classmates at the University of Westminster, and from my hosts in the US. I usually hesitate, try to understand where the questioner is coming from and I end up answering with a long-winded explanation.
Anna from Argentina asked: "Would you mind telling me what does that (the headdress) mean to you? Why are you wearing it?" Mia was there among us, an Indonesian Muslim woman baring her beautiful hair. Even without her presence, it would have been difficult enough for me to answer. If I said "Our religion requires it", it would have judged a huge number of Muslim women who do not wear headdress as "less religious". I personally do not think this way.
I started wearing this headdress (in Indonesia people call it jilbab) in 2000. Raised in a secular family, I was surrounded by Muslim women with casual, modest clothes. During my school years, no one among us wore headdress. The policy of the Indonesian education system allowing girls to wear different styles of school uniforms (among others: with headdresses and long skirts) has been implemented only recently.
Why wear headdress? Traditionally, I had never encountered this kind of fashion in my youth. So, it must not be tradition. Religion? Yes, there is a verse in the Quran saying: "You should cover your chest fully." Some people interpret this as "wearing long headdress that falls to below your chest". My preferred interpretation is that if my blouse or dress already covers my chest, I may wear a pretty headdress only to cover my hair. And if it was religion, what should I say of my mother-in-law and sisters-in-laws, religious and devoted members of Nahdatul Ulama the biggest Islamic organisation in Indonesia yet not wearing headdress except on certain occasions when they don the kerudung (a headcloth which still shows some of the hair)? Dare I consider them less religious?
Perhaps I wear it for comfort? I do not think so. Only in cold London and North Dakota did I feel the comfort of wearing headdress, which made me feel warmer. In Indonesia, I used to complain because of the heat (especially after teaching in a non-air-conditioned classroom packed with students for several hours on a hot day, or on public transportation). My husband, seeing me coming home with sweat pouring over my face and neck, sometimes said: "If you are suffering, you don‘t have to wear that." But I kept wearing it.
For fashion, you might say? I definitely do not think wearing headdress is fashionable. And yet, Muslim women have never looked so stylish. In Indonesia, UK, or the US, I saw them on the streets, on underground trains and stations, at campus, at the malls. There was a huge number of women wearing western clothes (including pants and jeans), fitted jackets or coats, and matching scarves as headdress. It was nice to look at. Modest, and yet, stylish.
Nancy from Hong Kong also asked me the same question, but it was Myra from Yugoslavia who struck me with her acrimonious tone. She said she had just had a conversation with Shawn from Israel about why Muslim women wear scarves. "Why not also with the veil or burqa? If you wear headdress and pants and jeans, what‘s the point, then?" she asked.
She reminded me of a male friend in Indonesia who commented on the way I wore my headdress the first day I wore it. I did not have a collection of headdresses, I was not skillful in knotting and tying. "What kind of headdress is that? You look like a nun!" he commented, impolitely. It hurt me, but I kept silent. Now, thinking about it, I wish I had asked him back: "Why should I wear a long, big-size veil like an Afghan, even if you think that it is better fashion than a ‘nun style‘? Even my religious mother in-law is happy enough to see me this way."
It became a significant issue for me. In my opinion, people cannot judge that the burqa (the Afghan style which covers everything from head to toes) is better than the face-veil, or the face-veil (you still can see the beautiful eyes) is better than jilbab (you can see the face), and jilbab is better than the Indonesian/Malaysian/Bruneian kerudung (you can see some hair), and so on. What is the limit and who says? Some people might answer, "The limit is the Quran". But everybody who wears burqa, jilbab, veil, kerudung, also reads and believes in the Quran.
So, in answering Myra, Nancy, Anna and Shawn I said, "I just like to wear it. So, please don‘t see what I wear, see me."
The writer is a senior journalist in Indonesia and will be joining the Brunei Times editorial team soon.
Source: The Brunei Times (21 Mei 2007)
