Tag: hijab

Why Do Hardliners Demand Full Covering? It’s Not Just About Religion.

“You must cover your body. Your face. Your hands. Your ankles. Your hair. Your voice.”
Some men talk about modesty like they’re folding cloth around a secret. But the more you ask, the more you realize: it’s not modesty they’re guarding. It’s control.

I’ve lived long enough to see the transformation of the hijab. It evolved from a quiet symbol of faith to a loud tool of politics.

In many conservative circles across the Muslim world—from Kabul to Riyadh to parts of Islamabad—modesty isn’t just recommended. It’s enforced. And not just modesty, but complete covering: niqab, gloves, loose robes, even forbidding women from speaking in public.

The question is: why?
Do these hardliners have religious texts to support this view? Or are they stretching scripture to fit their fears?

The Verses They Always Quote

Let’s begin with the Qur’an, the source they most often invoke.

The most commonly cited verses are:

Surah An-Nur (24:31):

“And tell the believing women to lower their gaze and guard their private parts and not to show their adornment except what is apparent thereof, and to draw their veils over their bosoms…”

Surah Al-Ahzab (33:59):

“O Prophet, tell your wives and your daughters and the women of the believers to draw their cloaks close around them. That will be better, so that they may be recognized and not harmed.”

Hardliners interpret these verses as divine proof that women must cover themselves from head to toe, including the face and hands. They claim that anything “adorned” includes the entire female body, and that “drawing the cloak” must mean full covering.

What the Hadiths Say—And Don’t Say Clearly

They also rely on Hadiths (Prophet Muhammad’s sayings), especially this one:

🗣 Narrated by Abu Dawood:

“Asma, daughter of Abu Bakr, entered upon the Messenger of Allah wearing thin clothes. He turned away and said, ‘O Asma! When a woman reaches the age of menstruation, it is not appropriate that anything should remain exposed except this and this,’ pointing to his face and hands.”

Ironically, while this Hadith is often used to enforce covering, many scholars point out that it actually permits showing the face and hands.

But for hardliners, the ambiguity becomes a canvas. And on it, they paint rules that lean toward excess rather than restraint.

Their Interpretation: Fear Disguised as Piety

Hardliners usually argue this:

  • A woman’s beauty is a temptation (fitna).
  • Men are weak and easily led astray.
  • Society is safer when women are invisible.
  • Therefore, to protect morality, women must erase their visibility.

To them, a woman who shows her face is inviting chaos. Even if she’s modest in behavior. Even if she’s intelligent, kind, capable. Her body becomes a battlefield. Her scarf becomes a flag.

But here’s what they won’t admit: this isn’t really about God. It’s about fear.

Fear of sexuality. Fear of losing cultural control. Fear of women becoming equal players in public life.

What They Miss Entirely

Not all scholars agree with this rigid interpretation. Many argue:

  • The Qur’an never mandates full-face covering.
  • The word “hijab” in the Qur’an doesn’t even refer to clothing—it refers to a curtain or barrier.
  • Modesty in Islam is as much about character as it is about clothing.
  • And crucially: the command is not just for women. Men are told to lower their gaze first (Surah An-Nur 24:30).

Even within the Islamic tradition, modesty is interpreted differently in Egypt than in Indonesia, in Morocco than in Pakistan.

The problem arises when one reading is weaponized to silence every other.

So, Why the Obsession?

Because the full covering of women becomes a symbol.
To hardliners, it says:

  • We are a righteous society.
  • We reject the West.
  • We are in control.

And tragically, women become the canvas on which these slogans are drawn.

If they really cared about Islamic values, they would teach humility before God, not pride in policing women.

A closing reflection:
When God told women to be modest, did He mean to erase them?

Or did He trust them enough to walk in public, speak, work, lead—and still carry faith in their hearts?

Hardliners answer that with chains. But I believe the Qur’an answers it with choice.

And maybe that’s what they fear most.

Banned, Bullied, or Celebrated: The Politics of the Hijab

It wasn’t the scarf itself that frightened them. It was the meaning they projected onto it.

Somewhere in Paris, a teenage girl folds her hijab into her backpack before entering school. In Tehran, another girl throws hers into the fire, defiantly waving her hair in front of riot police. Meanwhile in Toronto, a fashion designer drapes shimmering silk over a mannequin, designing the next collection of luxury modest wear.

Three women. One cloth. A thousand politics.

Why is the hijab still so misunderstood, so over-regulated, and so emotionally charged? Maybe because it sits at the crossroads of religion, feminism, nationalism, and fear. And no one seems to agree on what it means.

Laws That Control, Societies That Judge

Let’s start with the obvious: the hijab is not just a piece of fabric. It is also a legal battleground.

  • France banned the hijab in public schools back in 2004. Then came bans in sports competitions, university spaces, and now even on abayas. The rationale? Laïcité—secularism. But many Muslim women say it feels less like neutrality and more like erasure.
  • In India, the hijab became a flashpoint in Karnataka in 2022, when girls were barred from classrooms for wearing it. The case climbed to the Supreme Court. Meanwhile, social media flared with images of Hindu women in bindis and Christian girls in crosses—none of whom were stopped.
  • In Iran, the problem is the opposite. The hijab is mandatory. Remove it and you risk arrest—or worse. After Mahsa Amini died in custody for allegedly wearing her hijab improperly, protests shook the country. Women burned scarves, cut their hair, and defied clerics who claimed to speak for God.

Isn’t it strange? In one place, the hijab is forced on women. In another, it’s stripped away. Both use the language of freedom. Neither truly listens to women.

Between the Headlines: Real Women, Real Stakes

It’s easy to get caught up in the political spectacle. But what does all this mean for the women caught in the middle?

A friend of mine, a medical student in Karachi, wears her hijab like armor. “I don’t do it for anyone else,” she told me. “I feel invisible without it. Exposed.”

Another friend in Berlin, who stopped covering years ago, said: “I used to feel I owed it to my family. I also felt I owed it to God. But then I started questioning everything. Now I’m figuring it out on my own.”

Then there are girls who wear it under pressure. From parents. From husbands. From communities. They smile in public, but their eyes speak quietly of fear. Others choose it and are punished because they chose it. Suspended from class. Denied jobs. Spat on in public transport.

You cannot legislate dignity. Nor can you chain it.

What the Hijab Debate Often Ignores

The media loves binaries: oppressed vs empowered, East vs West, modest vs modern.

But most women live in the gray.

They wear hijab for a mix of reasons—spiritual, cultural, political, aesthetic. Some wrap it tight. Some drape it loose. Some take it off. Some come back to it. And some… just don’t care to explain anymore.

What the world often misses is this: the hijab is not inherently oppressive or liberating. It’s the context that makes it so. A woman choosing it freely is powerful. A woman forced into it—or out of it—is violated.

Also, we forget the nuance of local histories. In Turkey, the headscarf was once banned in universities. In Egypt, it became a symbol of Islamic identity in the 70s. In Malaysia, it evolved into a corporate fashion statement.

Wherever it goes, the hijab absorbs the fears and hopes of a society.

So, What Now?

Maybe we need less noise and more listening. Less obsession with the scarf and more focus on the woman underneath.

What if we stopped asking whether the hijab is right or wrong? What if we asked instead:

  • Did she choose it?
  • Does she feel safe in it?
  • Is her voice being heard?

And what if we acknowledged that the same piece of fabric can mean a hundred different things—sometimes even to the same person?

A quiet thought to end on:
The world is busy shouting about what the hijab means. But the real revolution may be happening in whispers. In bathrooms. In taxis. In bedrooms. Where women look into mirrors and ask themselves—not anyone else—what they believe.

And sometimes, that’s the most radical thing of all.