See, that’s where you’re wrong.
By Via Maryam Namazie, I came across this bizarre article by Nadiya Takolia
published in the guardian titled, “The hijab has liberated me from society’s expectations of women.”
O RLY?
Let’s cast a skeptical eye on the major claim of this article: “some wear [the hijab] explicitly as a feminist statement asserting an alternative mode of female empowerment.” The claim has two components: the hijab is a ‘feminist statement’ and the hijab is a method of ‘female empowerment.’ The supporting arguments are victim-blaming in its most distilled form, the argument that she is liberated from society’s expectations of women by planting herself firmly in the ‘good girl’ camp.
The best antidote for wishy-washy post modern writing is clear, explicit definitions of terms. Right from the start, the author tries to redefine feminism in a way that’s both dismissive of so pejorated “Western” feminists and sneakily supportive of her argument. I say redefine, but the closest she comes to a definition is : “feminism is far better known for burnt bras and slut-walks than headscarves.”
Feminism: The advocacy of women’s rights on the grounds of political, social, and economic equality to men.
Empower: Give (someone) the authority or power to do something.
Let’s use them in a sentence, shall we? Feminism empowered women to vote.
So, given that, how does wearing a scarf empower you to do anything that advances the political, social and economic equality of women? She doesn’t really say. Takolia starts off great, noting that “From perfume and clothes ads to children’s dolls and X Factor finals, you don’t need to go far to see that the woman/sex combination is everywhere.” Yes! Women are the sex class! That’s patriarchy.
Her problem lies in not truly groking feminism. She appears to believe, among other things, that feminists created the sex industry and that feminists imposed unrealistic beauty standards on women, writing that “our interpretation of liberal culture embraces, if not encourages, uncovering, I decided to reject what society expected me to do, and cover up.”
Huh? Honey, I assure you: there are plenty of subcultures in the US that encourage you to cover up. Ever hear of a purity ball? Abstinence-only? Modesty pledges and stumbling blocks?
That’s the thing about patriarchy: it tells you to do conflicting things, as women are encouraged to cover up (and then punished as prudes) and encouraged to disrobe (and then punished as sluts). That’s the point of patriarchy: women can’t win. Our lives are ground down in the gears of these dichotomies. Opting to be the Madonna in a nation of whores doesn’t make you a feminist.
The sad thing is she even acknowledges the problem, but says it’s other Muslim women – certainly not her! – that harbor “the simplistic assumptions … that a veiled woman is a holier woman.” Yet, when describing why she started wearing the hijab, she does the same thing:
I do not believe that the hair in itself is that important; this is not about protection from men’s lusts. It is me telling the world that my femininity is not available for public consumption. I am taking control of it, and I don’t want to be part of a system that reduces and demeans women. Behind this exterior I am a person – and it is this person for which I want to be known.
What the heck does she think that says about women who don’t wear the hijab? If wearing the hijab is making this statement, then not wearing the hijab is telling the world that my femininity IS available for public consumption, that I DO want to be part of a system that reduces and demeans women, that beneath this exterior I am NOT a person, and that I certainly do not want to be known as one.
She writes, “I firmly believe that a woman’s dress should not determine how others treat, judge or respect her,” yet she’s apparently cool with the patriarchal bargain she’s made, opting for a style of dress that distinguishes her from those bad girls over there. She says reading about the lives of women in the sex industry is one of the things that encouraged her to wear a hijab, but she hasn’t stopped to ask herself how wearing a hijab helps anyone but herself avoid the acid rain of patriarchy.
And the more women wear the hijab, the less powerful a ‘statement’ the hijab will be about the wearer. The more women habitually wear the hijab, the more taboo my choice to wear a bikini will become. Her choice affects how men feel entitled to treat me.
She may delude herself into thinking that the statement she’s making is somehow feminist, but really, it’s the same old patriarchal bargain: she’s made this personal sacrifice because she thinks the men will be nicer to her than they are to those sluts with their burning bras. She’s conceded the point that it’s her obvious femaleness that causes men to treat women badly, that women being seen as synonymous with sex is inevitable and irrevocable. She’s given in.
And that may be a lot of things, but it’s not empowering to implicitly tell everyone you meet that you can’t be seen as a person unless you hide the fact that you’re a woman. And it sure isn’t feminist.
well put! reminds me of how, growing up, i was regularly told how “radical” and “countercultural” abstinence, modesty, and other aspects of the Evangelical Christianity i was born into supposedly were. yeah, not so much, and even if they were, that doesn’t make them good ideas.
I tried to come up with a comment to expand upon this, but basically everything I wanted to say you’d already said. It’s such a massive patriachal trap that Takolia believes that the female form is inextricably linked with sex and that the only way we can break that link is to look less like women, rather than bringing about the normalisation of the female form.
Yessenia, you are completely out of line here.
You are speaking in such a condescending tone about someone else’s personal opinions about their feminism. Yes, some of their arguments may have problematic assumptions when viewed through your personal feminist lens, but everyone comes to label themselves as feminist for different reasons. Everyone is at a different stage in their comprehension of feminist ideas. There is no gold-standard feminist opinion.
It is important for everyone to be able to articulate their feminism and have it taken as a legitimate opinion. You could possibly highlight where you and the author differ in opinion, as opposed to speaking from a position of authority on a subject that you have little authority on (at least I have never seen you articulate before this post why you don’t wear a hijab). A public discourse on this (and similar) issue(s) is essential as opposed to whatever this is.
I think we need a little comprehension of how pluralistic feminism is and how alienating HULKSMASHING someone’s opinions can be for the Queereka audience.
Nah, you have it backwards. What’s condescending is to try to shut down my criticism because because she’s “at a different stage in [her] comprehension of feminist ideas.” Maybe she is, but I’m certainly not going to assume that the problem is she hasn’t had enough time to progress through as many stages of feminist comprehension as I have. Because that would assume she is somehow beneath me, and needs the kid-glove treatment. I don’t assume that; why do you?
It is important for everyone to be able to articulate their feminism and have it taken as a legitimate opinion
That’s what I’m doing, my friend.
The rest of your second paragraph appears to be a bizarre denial of the existence of my post. What do you think this is, if not a public discourse on the issue? What do you think I’m doing, if not highlighting where the author and I differ? Why would a post detailing why I don’t wear a hijab (spoiler alert: I’m an atheist!) make me an authority on the subject?
Also, I am not saying that you aren’t an authority on feminism / islam etc. etc. I’m saying that the authors context is quite unique and you haven’t outlined a similar context within which you might have authority. Also even if your context is similar, we should never talk down at someone else’s opinion because we can never know everything that has informed them.
Yes feminists can say transphobic, islamaphobic and even sexist things… I’m simply saying that when we argue with these opinions we have to approach it in a way that a variety of different opinions and contexts can engage with.
Also even if your context is similar, we should never talk down at someone else’s opinion because we can never know everything that has informed them.
Well, I guess you’ll be deleting your last post then.
The great thing about skepticism is that it keeps the burden of proof on the claimant. I don’t need to Vulcan mind-meld with someone else to say their argument doesn’t hold water. And hers doesn’t hold water for the reasons I outlined.
Perhaps never was the wrong word. Let me have another shot.
Also even if your context is similar, when criticising someone’s opinion, we should be careful not to speak from a position of authority that cannot be challenged because we can not be sure of everything that has informed them. This kind of discourse is not alienating. This kind of discourse (in my opinion) can be engaged with by a greater diversity of opinions.
The airing of an opinion (that if only on the surface) is not open to criticism doesn’t seem like a very productive and open discourse to me.
Yes, I may think that my approach is more constructive to discourse than yours, but I definitely feel that I have been using a different (and hopefully less condescending) tone.
It’s strange that you didn’t get the memo that my opinions couldn’t be challenged or criticized because they came from a position of authority – especially since a second ago, the problem was that I wasn’t speaking from a position of authority!
To be honest, you’re looking more and more like a garden-variety tone-troll.
I completely agree that there are lots of ways to be a feminist–I’m sure Yessenia does as well. What I would ask is that if you disagree with the content of Yessenia’s post, you address those points. Tone policing is not really an acceptable form of discourse around here (or any feminist spaces, really).
For me (and bell hooks, who I’ve been reading lately and has made me think about things slightly differently), feminism is a movement to end sexism, sexist exploitation and oppression. It is also the ability to make choices without coercion, that also don’t hurt anyone else. I feel like Nadiya is merely talking about a decision she has come to, based on her experiences of the world she lives in and yes, the background she comes from.
It is terribly unfortunate that she (and we) live in a world where women are judged more based on how they look, and I think we all agree there. If she feels more comfortable with covering her body and hair with a loose garment, because she feels like it doesn’t allow her to be judged based on her appearance, I think that is a choice she is entitled to make. I even think it’s ok for her to feel liberated because of that. I feel more liberated/empowered by the way I choose to dress, my androgyny makes me feel comfortable because I don’t conform to a particular gender and I don’t like people making any judgements on my perceived gender. Yes, implicit in there is the assumption that people do make those judgements. But I also wouldn’t have anything against genderqueer folk that choose to dress super femme. And I don’t think her post is saying anything against women that don’t wear the hijab, nor is she encouraging all women to.
She states “I firmly believe that a woman’s dress should not determine how others treat, judge or respect her.I do not believe that the hair in itself is that important; this is not about protection from men’s lusts. It is me telling the world that my femininity is not available for public consumption.”
I also don’t really agree with your point about how her choice to wear a hijab would affect how men feel entitled to treat you. How men/people feel entitled to treat women is a product of the patriarchy objectifying women, and only education can change that. I don’t think men who currently respect women, no matter what they’re wearing are suddenly going to change their opinions once more women choose to wear hijabs. It’s a bit unfair to men I feel.
Yes, there are women out there that are forced to wear the hijab. Yes, it is used as a system of oppression in many parts of the world. And I wonder if she would even disagree. But I don’t think that means she has to answer for all those events and not make her own choices in the context she’s living in either. Am happy to discuss further!
I’m intrigued by your parallel between the hijab and expressions of gender. My gut reaction is that these are not the same kinds of thing, and my reasoning is that if the hijab was just another item of clothing, Takolia wouldn’t be wearing it to send a message (which is true even if we set aside the disagreement about what message is being sent). That’s why I disregarded her statement that women should not be judged on how they dress. The rest of the post is, “But here’s how I hope people will judge me based on how I dress.”
She may sincerely believe that, too, but there’s a huge contradiction between “how a woman dresses shouldn’t determine how people treat, judge and respect her” and “by choosing this style of dress, I’m announcing that I will tolerate behaviors X, Y and Z.” I just do not see how those are reconcilable. I’d appreciate if you elaborated on where the line is, if there is one.
Surely there comes a point where an article of clothing becomes so politicized that it can’t be treated like just another style of dress. The headscarf used to be in that category, but because of Islamism, I can’t easily wear a scarf around my head with it’s cold unless I’m comfortable sending the message that I agree with Mohammad that women are 90% genitals (men are only about 40%, according to the relevant hadith). That bugs me.
Of course she’s entitled to dress how she wants. I don’t think I said anything to the contrary. The problem I have is the idea that a woman can be liberated from society’s expectations of women – the claim she made in the title – merely by changing how we dress. No, we can’t. We can move around to different categories of woman, but as long as there’s a patriarchy, we’ll be stuck in the sex class. That’s what I was trying to say: there’s no opting out.
If she finds people treat her more how she’d like to be treated by wearing a headscarf, then she should wear a headscarf; I should wear a binder and cut my hair short; a transwoman should paint her nails and wear nice dresses. But the idea that it’s so easy to get away from patriarchy, which is a big implication of what she’s saying, is what I’m criticizing.
That’s also related to what I said about how men feel entitled to treat me – what she’s saying only works because there aren’t many people in this context doing that. If we all started wearing hijabs to avoid exploitation, then all the purported benefit of wearing the hijab would evaporate. Because the patriarchy would still be there, ready to just move the line dividing the madonnas and the whores. That’s what I meant, not that she’d bear personal responsibility for another person’s bad behavior.
I feel like all clothing is performative (I’ve been meaning to write a post on this separately for a long time now, not explicitly related to religion though), and all choices that we make are influenced in some way by the society we live in, clothing isn’t any different.
It’s unfortunate that you can’t wear a scarf without associating it with a facet of a certain kind of Islamic/political/cultural belief (it’s not just Muslims who cover their heads for religious reasons though), and I think scarves have been a part of women’s fashion for a very long time, before and after they were associated with a woman’s modesty. Would you think anyone wearing a scarf believes those things about women? We could talk about the politicisation of fashion for an entire post, which I hope to do even more so now. I doubt everyone sporting a keffiyeh these days wears it as a statement of Palestinian solidarity; I Love Chelsea haircuts, skinny jeans and Doc Martens but I am not a neo-Nazi, I could just be into Ska or punk, or just like how it looks, but because it is associated with a fashion subculture that appeals to me and my politics. My choices are just as influenced as someone wishing to wear the hijab.
I’m not exactly sure what you mean when you say ‘by choosing this style of dress, I’m announcing that I will tolerate behaviors X, Y and Z.’ Do you mean to say that’s what she thinks of women that don’t wear the hijab? That they’re announcing that they’re willing to tolerate unwarranted behaviour? Please correct me if I’m wrong in my assumption. If it’s the case though, I don’t think I can read that into her piece at all. She is making an individual choice based on how she has perceived women to be treated by society by choosing to not participate in fashion/body policing. A person choosing to not wear make-up can be seen as them opting out of being judged based on how they look, and I would support them in their idea of feeling like it’s a step toward opting out of patriarchy, in a small way. In the same way I would support someone choosing to wear make-up for themselves, or even if they think it makes them more attractive, because I support women making their own choices, as long as they’re not hurtful. That’s what feminism is to me. I agree with you that her choice does not allow her to solve the entire problem of patriarchy, and I would disagree with her saying that donning a hijab made all men’s perceptions of women better. But if she’s saying it’s allowed her to navigate the world in a way that makes her feel a little more comfortable, I’m ok with that. I would say that it is feminist to make a choice that makes you feel good.
Sure, clothing in general is performative, but I think we can differentiate between clothing that is performative of gender, and clothing that is performative of membership in some other class (say, membership in a biker gang).
True, it’s possible that not everyone would read a headscarf as a hijab (although I think hijabs are tied in consistent ways at are identifiable as hijabs). But then, doesn’t Takolia’s argument fall apart? If she’s no longer sending the message that her femininity isn’t for sale, then what’s the point?
I’m not saying our choices are not influenced by anything. The very fact that they ARE means that not all choices are going to be feminist choices. To me, that’s obvious; if feminism is to have any meaning, it has to exclude some of the things women do. Otherwise, it’s just a synonym for “whatever women do.” That’s why I posted the definition, actually;.
She is making an individual choice, but the idea that it liberates her from fashion/body policing, when the dress is actually a major form of fashion/body policing (literally, in some countries), doesn’t make any sense to me.
She doesn’t get to opt out of the system, because no one opted in to it in the first place.
Now, this isn’t to say I don’t support her right to make these choices and defend it with specious reasoning. I think the suggestion that I’m somehow against her right to make a silly choice borders on a straw man.
I’m not sure it’s so easy (or possible) to separate these things. Aren’t the clothing choices of a biker gang still gender performative? These things aren’t mutually exclusive.
They’re not mutually exclusive but that doesn’t mean they’re perfectly overlapping either. Is a burlap sack necessarily gender performative?
So I had a thought earlier: we’re asking the wrong question. We’re getting distracted with the fundamentally unanswerable question of “is this garment feminist?” or “is her reasoning feminist?” Who wants to be the feminist police?
Instead, I want to apply the same skepticism we reserve for the guy who says he came to Christianity after finding all the holes in the evidence for evolution. The question I have now is: If the grand feminist sentiments expressed in the article were really what inspired her to start covering up, why choose the hijab? There’s a million other ways you can shield your femininity from public consumption that don’t have the patriarchal baggage that the hijab does.
Really: what a happy coincidence it so often is when a woman chooses a choice that aligns so well with what the patriarchs of her religion want!
There’s a reason I don’t wear a cross to show I believe Jesus stayed dead. It’s the same reason pro-lifers don’t put coathangers on their sign to show you how much fun you’ll have hanging up your baby’s clothes.
If those were her reasons, instead of her post-hoc rationalizations to stifle the cognitive dissonance between her feminist lobe and her Muslim lobe, why didn’t she put even a little thought into coming up with a symbol that didn’t have such strong, overwhelmingly more prevalent, completely contradictory connotations?
“So I had a thought earlier: we’re asking the wrong question. We’re getting distracted with the fundamentally unanswerable question of “is this garment feminist?” or “is her reasoning feminist?” Who wants to be the feminist police?” This is what I thought was happening in your OP, and why I decided to respond in the first place. I’m happy to move on from this now.
I’ve found references to wearing burlap sacks in relation to women’s clothing quite common, from both negative (‘what she’s wearing looks like a burlap sack’) to the positive (‘I feel like wearing something sack-like today – something I and some of my friends have uttered many times in opposition to having to reveal our forms), so I do think burlap sacks can be a political choice, and (anti-)performative in a way 🙂
I guess ultimately, we disagree. For example, your other point about the coincidence of choosing the hijab being something patriarchs want, one could say the same thing about someone choosing to wear a bikini. All our choices are influenced by society, of which patriarchy is a part. A lot of what we wear can be argued to have patriarchal baggage. Corsets. High heels. Scented feminine hygiene pads. But what if someone likes having something floral-scented next to their vagina? It seems like since her choice can be related to something religious (and I have no doubt that her choices are influenced by her background) you find her idea of it being feminist false. She never said she came to Islam because of feminism, she says she came to the hijab because of feminism. It seems to me like you’d rather her have chosen another way to cover up her body, if that is the way she has chosen to respond to patriarchy, than one which can be associated with a religion, because that has bad connotations. I just feel like any choices we make will always have connotations.
“So I had a thought earlier: we’re asking the wrong question. We’re getting distracted with the fundamentally unanswerable question of “is this garment feminist?” or “is her reasoning feminist?” Who wants to be the feminist police?” This is what I thought was happening in your OP, and why I decided to respond in the first place. I’m happy to move on from this now.
I’ve found references to wearing burlap sacks in relation to women’s clothing quite common, from both negative (‘what she’s wearing looks like a burlap sack’) to the positive (‘I feel like wearing something sack-like today – something I and some of my friends have uttered many times in opposition to having to reveal our forms), so I do think burlap sacks can be a political choice, and (anti-)performative in a way 🙂
I guess ultimately, we disagree. For example, your other point about the coincidence of choosing the hijab being something patriarchs want, one could say the same thing about someone choosing to wear a bikini. All our choices are influenced by society, of which patriarchy is a part. A lot of what we wear can be argued to have patriarchal baggage. Corsets. High heels. Scented feminine hygiene pads. But what if someone likes having something floral-scented next to their vagina? It seems like since her choice can be related to something religious (and I have no doubt that her choices are influenced by her background) you find her idea of it being feminist false. She never said she came to Islam because of feminism, she says she came to the hijab because of feminism. It seems to me like you’d rather her have chosen another way to cover up her body, if that is the way she has chosen to respond to patriarchy, than one which can be associated with a religion, because that has bad connotations. I just feel like any choices we make will always have connotations.
So where do we disagree? My argument is (in addition to the fact that I just think it’s way more likely she came to the hijab through Islam than through feminism because of my arguments in my last post) that the hijab doesn’t liberate her from society’s expectations of women. That’s her claim, and it’s false. Pointing out that the bikini is also patriarchally influenced isn’t a counter argument; it’s another example. The bikini doesn’t liberate you from patriarchal expectations of women, right? 😉
I think it could also be an issue of imprecise wording on the author’s part. Does she mean English society? If so, then wearing the hijab certainly could liberate her from the expectations of how women should act in English society.
Wearing the hijab could be experienced by her as a liberating choice because in her mind it exempts her from the male gaze that is typical of English society (which, to her, is showing more skin, not less). Now, if she were living in, say, the United Arab Emirates, wearing the hijab would be dressing within that society’s expectations of women, and I would fail to see how taking it on there could be a form of liberation (though, of course, I’m open to that possibility).
Also, to give my two cents on this question (which I think is a great question), I think the answer may be that the hijab is culturally comfortable for her. She is familiar with it; it’s a part of her environment already. Perhaps the hijab doesn’t have the same kind of “patriarchal baggage” for her as it does for others. Or, she could be trying to reclaim it in much the same way that queer people reclaim words. I’m not entirely sure because she didn’t really get into those kinds of specifics, but those are some thoughts I had when re-reading the article.
I’m not sure I see where you’re getting that it’s culturally comfortable for her. It says she stumbled upon the hijab as a twenty-something undergrad.
I did get a whiff of queerness and gender dysphoria when she was talking about other ways she’d attempted to hide her appearance under the weight of gendered expectations. Specifically here:
From this passage: “Extended family showered me with graces of “mashallah”, perhaps under the impression that I was now more devout.” This indicates to me that she comes from a Muslim family, which means that head coverings were probably something she was familiar with.
at this point i think you two primarily disagree about how central the claim that wearing the hijab liberates her from body policing / patriarchy is to her overall argument.
also, because i can’t directly reply to Yessenia’s point just above: i don’t personally feel comfortable making any judgments about her gender identity, but i do oberve that she wouldn’t be the first female-assigned gender dysphoric person who 1) overcompensated/tried to deflect criticism by wearing clothing associated with femininity, or 2) masked her discomfort with baggy clothes. the hijab conveniently covers both 1) and 2). hence, while i don’t know that it applies to the author in particular, i am sure there are some people who’ve turned to the hijab for just this reason.
Yep, I agree with both of Will’s points, and I think theelectricturtle is on the right track. From the article itself, I don’t see her saying she is now liberated from society’s expectations (only the title says this, and I’m pretty sure the title was most likely not written by her, rather by an editor/sub-editor of The Guardian), this is her way of responding to her society’s expectations of women, in the same way wearing a bikini in the UAE would be. Could we say Slutwalks aren’t feminist because of the way people dress for them can be linked to sexist depictions of women? No, because it’s an act of rebellion. Women choosing to respond to patriarchy in a way that aligns with how they perceive their oppression.
That’s not what I’m saying though. I didn’t say it wasn’t feminist because it’s linked to sexist depictions of women in other contexts. I’m saying the reasoning isn’t feminist; and that it’s in defense of something that’s not merely linked to sexist depictions of women, but that is an overt symbol of female subjugation in the religion that the author espouses. The scarf doesn’t merely resemble the hijab. It is one.
The argument, the title notwithstanding, is that the headscarf is rebellion against the one way society demands women be. The problem with the reasoning is that it ignores that there’s no way for a woman to win at patriarchy. The deck is stacked against us.
Feminism is about unstacking the deck, not in finding the best way to persuade the dealer to give you a straight flush.
And I think it’s worth mentioning that in the article she actually does cite slutwalks as an example of the bad kind of feminism that associates women with their sexual charms and has some vaguely-referenced relationship with ‘the sex industry.
yeah, i seriously wish the author had once attempted to spell out exactly what she thought feminism entailed, rather than making vague associations and incriminations. i didn’t read the article as directly attributing the sex industry and societal beauty standards to feminism, as you seem to. but she does seem deeply ambivalent about it- cracking hackneyed stereotypes of feminists as bra-burners, etc, while happily appropriating their language. i suspect if she tried to be clearer, though, that the argument would totally fall apart.
This is something i completely agree with both you and Yessenia about: She should have been very explicit in how she defines feminism. The ambiguity is quite annoying and does her no favors.