I was at Sam's last week, yes, Sam's Club - Walmart's cousin, and I saw a woman dressed in a full burka. Basically, she looked like this. My mouth dropped open, and I literally stopped walking. I looked again. She was with a man, presumably her husband, and she had a little girl by the hand, who was about four. The little girl was wearing a lightweight short sundress and a pair of sandals. Then, I felt this incredible rush of anger.
I walked away really shaken and trying to figure out why I felt such anger which felt intolerant and prejudiced. It took me a few minutes to get my feelings under control, but the sense of 'this isn't right' just wouldn't go away. I wished I'd gone up and talked to her, but as Drake put it, "Thank God your better judgement prevailed." What I felt was based on my Western perception that this garb symbolizes the oppression of women. Then I had to step back and ask, does it?
First, wearing a 'burka' is NOT a requirement in the Qur'an (Koran). Yes, this holy book does prescribe modesty for women, but apparently, the full covering stems from custom in the time of Mohamed rather than scripture. So, let's say you're a 21st century Muslim woman and you choose to wear the burka. Are you oppressed because you choose modesty in the strict Eastern interpretation? There are some women around the world who wear the burka as a symbol of their direct rejection of Western culture. Others say they wear it because they don't like being judged by their bodies.
It still seems like oppression because I'm not convinced that women in an Islamic society are exercising free choice. Are we not all brainwashed to a greater or lesser extent by our culture? The strict Islam culture believes in the subjugation of women and enforces this view by teaching women they must conform or they will bring shame on themselves and their families and ultimately damn themselves to hell. Guilt and shame are powerful emotions which can cause anyone buckets of anguish and doubt.
Clothing customs are very much a matter of culture. Throughout history, men always seems to be obsessed with how much (or how little) women wear. Islamic men do not have a corner on this. In our own country's experience, clothing was very much an instrument of control. A woman can not run, or even move very fast in 50 pounds of clothing in nine layers which was commonly accepted dress throughout most of the 19th century.
Corsets have been a standard undergarment since the 1600's. The Victorians refined it into an instrument of torture by prescribing the lacing be so tight as to obstruct breathing and cause actual physical deformity. A woman appearing in public without a corset was tantamount as a declaration of prostitution. In most places in America in the 1800's there were laws prohibiting women from wearing trousers in public. You could certainly expect to be arrested, and your husband/father would be chastised for allowing their wife/daughter to appear in pubic dressed indecently. Sound familiar?
My point is that women have been conditioned throughout history to accept cultural clothing strictures, and it is very, very recently, and only in a relatively small percentage of the world that a woman ACTUALLY has free choice. in the matter of her own clothing. There is also no 'choice' involved if a woman is considered fair game for rape or being beaten or both if she doesn't choose to wear the burka. Since the woman in Sam's doesn't run that risk from the general public, you have to accept she is choosing the burka. This is America. She can wear what she wants even if I think it's nuts.
Some Western countries are banning the burka. They cite the faux choice argument (pressured by men, religious custom, etc.), as well as something I think is much more important. Burkas cover bruises. One rationale for burka ban is that women can be more easily abused, when only their eyes and hands are visible. There are some studies that seem to indicate women who live in societies that insist on the burka have higher rates of abuse than societies that are more clothing flexible.
When I finally sorted myself out about why this woman at Sam's Club disturbed me so, I realized that it wasn't her that bothered me - it was the little girl whose hand she was holding. That little girl was dressed in typical little American girl attire. What is going to happen to her when she's thirteen? How in good conscience can her mother wear clothing that screams oppression and subjugation over a vast part of the world? Why would she set this example? All said and done - that's what really, really made me so angry. We've struggled and struggled as women to have cultural and economic equality in this country. I don't want any little girl who lives in America to be sent the message by her own mother that inferior and unequal and subjugated to men is in ANY way OK.
4 comments:
Perhaps, in my opinion, your best blog so far! Glad you did not try to speak to her for you might have caused her trouble from the man with her. I doubt she would have spoken with you anyway. I don't think they are "allowed" to.
I found your comments on dressing interesting. When I entered the work place in the 50s, the "code" was no trousers for women. You had to dress in skirts, suits, or "modest" dresses in muted colors; and of course, you had to wear stockings. We've come a long way baby here in the USA; however, some folks took freedom of dress to extremes. I feel for the oppressed women in any country that does not allow women basic rights. I admire the young Malala who put her life in jeopardy to speak up for education. I mourn those women who have died from beatings, stoning, and so-called "honor" killings by their own families. I too, am angered by a society that condones marriages of little girls to old men, all in the name of religion. I share your feelings, Jan. Thanks for speaking out.
What I don't understand is why women from this country are converting to that way of life. We, American women, have fought for equality and our freedom, yet now that is becoming the fastest growing religion in the world. These are the women I would like to hear from. Have they become brain washed? It really scares me to think one day life will go back to women having no rights.
I read an interesting article regarding women in Iran this past weekend.
http://online.wsj.com/news/articles/SB10001424052702304448204579184231027914454?KEYWORDS=IRAN+KAMALI
In Iran, Among the Beauty-Obsessed Women
Novelist Marjan Kamali goes back to visit family in Iran, and discovers a country that is obsessed with beauty and makeup
By Marjan Kamali
Nov. 15, 2013 12:06 p.m. ET
WHEN MY GRANDMOTHER turned 90 a couple of years ago, I decided to take my husband and children to visit her in Iran. I spent many a night awake before our trip, worrying about our safety, about how my husband would feel returning to Iran for the first time since leaving at the height of the 1979 revolution. Could my 11-year-old daughter and 8-year-old son abide by the Islamic Republic's rules? Would I be able to show them the country I used to love?
It didn't occur to me to fret about my face.
We landed in Tehran at night, entering the country without incident. As we waited for our luggage in baggage claim, we looked up to see a trio of beautiful young women smiling and waving at us from the other side of the exit. They wore colorful tunics over blue jeans. Their head scarves looked like wisps of silk that had accidentally landed on their heads. Even their sneakers were chic. Who were these people?
"Marjan Joon!" they mouthed through the glass partition. I realized then that these were my cousins, who had grown into adults since the last time I saw them. After exchanging hugs and kisses and exclamations, we loaded up their car and set off into the city.
Different regimes can change many things about a place. But the fragrant trees lining Tehran's boulevards, and the terrible traffic, even at midnight, seemed the same under Mahmoud Ahmadinejad as under the Shah. The smell of kebabs wafting from the food trucks, the shouts of men pushing a car stuck on the side of the road (with a bride and groom inside, of course) all felt familiar.
Still, I was hyper-aware of the "modesty" laws that were instated after the Islamic revolution. Among other things, they mandate that women cover their hair and bodies in public. So the next morning, before stepping out for a walk with my family in one of the city's more upscale neighborhoods, I donned an oversize raincoat and wrapped my head in an enormous pashmina, making sure to hide every strand of hair.
The first thing we noticed as we strolled to a fancy shopping mall were the couples. Young women in bright tunics and scarves that slipped back to show their hair walked with guys in jeans and tight T-shirts. The women's eyes were accentuated with eyeliner and shadow. Their lips shone with color, their hair was sprayed to stand out boldly in front, a la Elvis. Their nails were red and green and hot pink.
"I didn't know they were allowed boyfriends here," my daughter said. "I didn't think they could do lipstick."
We walked past blue-tiled buildings, shops lined with cheese puffs and detergent, couples in cafes drinking cappuccinos. Lumbering along in my Lawrence of Arabia get-up, I received puzzled looks.
Later that evening, over a feast of jeweled rice and walnut and pomegranate stew at my aunt's home, we caught up on family and politics. Suddenly my aunt said: "I can take you if you want."
"Take me where?" I asked.
"To our best beauty salon."
"I didn't come here for a beauty salon."
"As you wish," she sniffed. "But what is this look that's no look that you have?"
“ 'In the West, where you are free, are people so vain?' he said. 'Of course not!' ”
At another relative's house, it was the housekeeper who pulled me aside. "Madam," she whispered. "Those eyebrows. Please. You're a mother of two. You need to be tweezed."
My naked face stood out among a sea of lipsticked and glamorous Tehranis glowing under their hijabs. The surprise bordering on concern at my un-made-up ways was everywhere. "Why don't you wear more makeup?" asked women whose cheeks were caked with foundation. "What do you have against lipstick?"
In Tehran, it turned out, the standards for fashion and appearance were extremely high. Women dieted and went to Pilates and yoga. Though by law they had to cover up outside their homes, many women rebelled, especially the young. They let their head scarves slip as far back as they could and wore tunics that, while not revealing any skin, were vivid and tight. And they obsessed about their faces, moisturizing and plucking and exfoliating.
"It's the only physical part of me I can show," my young cousin said as she made up her face. "Why wouldn't I color my lips? And, usually, you get away with it."
I took a taxi to visit my grandmother; along the way, the driver reflected on the government's ills.
"Ahmadinejad keeps taking away more freedom," he said. "But it all backfires. Do you see how our young girls are obsessed with their looks? In the West, where you are free, tell me, are people so vain? Of course not! I mean, look at your bland face. It's admirable!"
My reunion with my grandmother was tearful and sweet. Decades ago, when westernization was encouraged, she was one of Iran's first career women. Photos of her in chic business skirts and shiny high heels, her hair perfectly coifed, were burned into my memory. Now widowed and living in a nursing home, she wore a plain dress and babushka scarf. We chatted and reminisced. Finally, I thought, I could be free of beauty judgment.
Then my grandmother leaned in and told me that I could really use some lipstick.
—Ms. Kamali's debut novel, "Together Tea," was published in May. She teaches writing at Boston University.
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