A BBC article reads - 'The niqab, says leading feminist philosopher Elizabeth Badinter "is totally contrary to the three principles of the French Republic". Those principles - liberty, equality, fraternity - can be seen written or carved on the front of every French town hall. By hiding your face, Mrs Badinter explains as she sips a small black coffee in her elegant apartment in Paris, you breach the principle of equality". She who hides her face is in a position superior to mine," she says. "She sees me but she refuses to reciprocate."'
There was an article in the Times recently that expressed a similar grievance. The author, Alice Thomson, complains about how while watching her offspring playing in Hyde Park with that of a veiled woman, she felt uncomfortable because she couldn't see the other woman's face. This, if the sentiment expressed in the article was anything to go by, caused much tumult in the world of the former. In the absence of non verbal facial cues, she found herself grappling in vacuum in order to understand how the other was responding to her. Was she friend or foe? Was she smiling under the veil or scowling? The title of the article - You are cutting me off as well as you- made me want assume the role of the veiled lady and say, "Okay. So what if I am?"
Both Badinter and Thomson allude to an alleged social inequality and disequilirbrium that emerges when one party is veiled and the other is not. I find this line of argument bizarre. Even if one forgets momentarily that while espousing principles of equality and whatnot, these women are suggesting that others change the way they dress because it causes the subjects some social discomfort, the point they are making seems petty to say the least.
If Badinter has a problem with the lack of reciprocity in the whole she-can-see-me-but-I-can't-see-her predicament, the issue is clearly her own. What startles me if the fact that she is regarded as a champion for women's rights. Feminism involves, among other things, empowerment of women so that they develop a sense of personal agency. Her first solution to this made-up problem however seems to involve changing the other rather than self, thereby turning the locus of control outward. What is her real problem? Is it that she can't see the other? Or that the other can see her? If it's is the latter, rather than asking others to disrobe, she should put in place structures that make her only as visible as she wants to be. If it is the former, then it is not worth wasting time over.
This scenario is a bit like wishing chlorophyll wasn't green. You can either moan about it, move on, or try to change it from green to purple. The last option is not really an option due to its impossibility, which in turn is due to the fact that it is not within your realm of control. Similarly, how someone else dresses is not something you can control. The only option available is to ban women from covering their faces, but mind you, it is definitely not one that can be exercised while hiding behind the equality banner.
The BBC reporter points out the contrast in Badinter's verbal commitment to equality while sitting in her elegant flat sipping tea. The suggestion that equality will be restored if the veiled women drop their veils, so that everyone would be equally visible, reeks of an unquestioned sense of superiority. Her argument assumes that to see and be seen is something desirable, and the social norm that one ought to aspire towards. Would it not be equally equal, if everyone wore a veil? The question of relative superiority or power would not arise, everyone would be equally (in)visible, and this alleged advantage of the veiled that is the cause of much distress would be obliterated. Thomson also moans along similar lines when she calls the burqa "a passive- aggressive statement, a rejection of the community. The person wearing it is signalling that either she or her family wants her to remain apart from society"
So now we're going to have a problem with people exercising their right to remain apart from whoever the hell they want?
The other pertinent question to consider, and one that is an exercise more appropriate for Thomson, is this- What is it that makes the reaction of a stranger mean so much? I personally couldn't care less if I couldn't read the expression of a stranger in a park. The fact that Thomson does speaks volumes about her. Reading her article, especially the title, I wonder if she would be satisfied with uncovered faces that displayed unsociable expressions.
She writes, "From her eyes I couldn’t tell whether she was frowning in disgust at my bare legs or smiling as our children squealed." Firstly, the fact that Thomson's first thought was the possibility of her bare legs being disgusting leads me wonder if she is projecting her own moral anxiety about exposed skin onto someone else. Secondly, even if the burka-ed woman had been visibly disgusted at Thomson's bare legs, something tells me Thomson wouldn't have been content just knowing that.
So what, dear Alice, is your real problem?
The 'cutting off' can't just be a matter of not-knowing what the other is thinking/feeling, since we can't say we are socially connected to someone who openly communicates an unfriendly attitude towards us. The accusation in the title- "You are cutting me off"- seems more like a disguised plea- "I want you to like me"
