Right Answer, Wrong Reason: Why “Muslim” Is Not A Halloween Costume

Just in time for Halloween, the Toronto Star‘s ethics columnist, Ken Gallinger (whose columns I enjoy), received a question from a parent:

We are a Christian family. Our daughter, 7, goes to a school where there are many Muslim kids. Some of their moms walk them to school in burqas. My daughter is fascinated by these mysterious “costumes” and says she wants to go out on Halloween as a “Muslim lady.” Do I let her?

Yes. This is a real burqa costume. Via costumestore.com.

Gallinger’s first remark (“Absolutely not”) and his concluding paragraph (which I’ll get to) aren’t bad.  Cultural appropriation via Halloween costumes seems to be a yearly thing, which we’ve touched on before on MMW,* and is never okay, so I’m glad that Gallinger was so forceful in his initial statement.

But the reasoning is off.  Gallinger begins by saying that, “In the first place, the Muslim community in Canada is conflicted, within itself, about the place of the burqa in religious life.”  This is an interesting point, and it’s definitely good to point out that the Muslim community isn’t monolithic, but it’s not exactly relevant here.

Wearing a burqa as a Halloween costume is wrong because of issues of cultural appropriation (which is problematic no matter how well-intentioned the young would-be burqa wearer), not because the Muslim community doesn’t have one unified stance on this.  Gallinger continues:

At one extreme are those, of both genders, who see wearing these garments as a matter of religious devotion, even obligation, for Muslim women. At the other, many see them as signs of the oppression of women, and therefore offensive in a progressive society like ours.

[Read more...]

Niqab by Numbers: Quantifying the Overreactions

I am so, so sick of talking about the niqab.  So I’m not really going to, despite the fact that the Canadian province of Quebec recently introduced a bill that, if made law, would force everyone to show their face when dealing with provincial government bodies.  If anyone else has intelligent insight on recent Quebec-related media coverage, please share.  I, for one, can’t think of anything new that I haven’t said a million times already.  You’d think the politicians would get as tired of this as we are…

The only thing I want to do here is highlight part of this article, which puts into context just how overblown the whole issue is:

One Muslim group argued Wednesday that Quebec’s political oxygen was being unnecessarily sucked up by debate over a microscopic number of cases.

The Muslim Council of Montreal says there may be only around 25 Muslims in Quebec who actually wear face-coverings.

Of the more than 118,000 visitors to the health board’s Montreal office in 2008-09 only 10 people — or less than 0.00009 per cent of cases — involved niqab-wearers who asked for special dispensation.

There were zero such cases among the 28,000 visitors to the Quebec City service centre over the same time period.

So, everyone who’s freaking out about how Quebecois culture as we know it is going to crumble if people are allowed to wear niqab can probably breathe easy.

I’d love to see similar numbers as they apply to other regions or countries dealing with similar debates (France, perhaps?).  And, I’d love to see these numbers appear more often.  The media can play a big role in fueling (or even creating) panic about Muslims (or whoever) taking over, and numbers like this help to give a little perspective about how miniscule the group is that is being discussed, and how disproportionate the outcry really is.

Reading Religion and Canadian Identity: Sheema Khan’s Of Hockey and Hijab

Khan's book. Image via Rabble.ca.

Khan's book. Image via Rabble.ca.

Of Hockey and Hijab: Reflections of a Canadian Muslim Woman, published last October, is a collection of monthly columns written by Sheema Khan and originally printed in Canada’s Globe and Mail newspaper, between 2002 and 2009.  Khan, who founded the Canadian Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR-CAN), was born in India and moved to Montreal when she was young.  The short essays that form her book cover a range of topics, interweaving personal experiences of interfaith interactions and spiritual journeys as a Canadian Muslim woman with reflections on national and international political issues.

Overall, the writing is eloquent and engaging, and the content is informative and thought-provoking.  The book is structured as a compilation of pieces, none of which are more than two pages long, organized according to five themes:

  • The Highjacking of Islam
  • Living in Fear: Canadian while Muslim
  • Islam in the World
  • The Canadian Way
  • The Rights of Women

I found this structure took some time to get used to, since the pieces don’t all flow neatly together, and especially because the dates of the original articles weren’t given, leaving me to guess at how current the issues were at the time of writing.  At the same time, the compilation of short pieces makes it easy to take in the information in small amounts, and to skip back and forth between articles.

The book’s title refers not only (as I first assumed) to eye-roll-inducing cliches symbolizing Canada and Islam, but also to Khan’s own experience as a hijab-wearing woman who once spent many years playing intramural hockey at university.  The intersection of hockey and hijab (and the ensuing skeptical reactions from people who hear about it) has actually played out rather concretely in Khan’s life, making the title much more meaningful.

As for the second half of the title, “Reflections of a Canadian Muslim Woman,” it was nice to see that such reflections are not confined simply to Muslim women’s issues; while gender is brought up–as it should be–throughout the book, the other topics covered in the book demonstrate that, as a Canadian Muslim woman, Khan also has important reflections to share on many other issues.  Some of my favorite pieces included “The Abuse of Islamic Language,” in which Khan discusses the problems with the misuse of words like “jihad” by both Western media and Osama bin Laden; “Double Standards,” which looks at the unequal application of hate speech laws that are more likely to bar Muslim leaders from entering Canada than they are to affect Christian leaders with similar ideas; “Funny,” a call to Muslims to follow the example of the Prophet (peace be upon him) when responding to cartoons that depict him in an offensive way; and “The Soul in Science,” a description of Islamic examples of how science and religion can benefit one another.  She celebrates her religion as well as her country, while criticising the racism, sexism, and other forms of oppression found in both.

One of the elements of the book that most stuck out to me was Khan’s unapologetic expression of her commitment to Islam, and her argument that, if Canadian society takes seriously its commitment to diversity, it has to accept and respect Muslims (and, presumably, other people of faith) not only as cultural or ethnic communities, but also as communities with a certain spiritual outlook.  One especially interesting passage illustrated the challenge that this idea poses to some understandings of feminism, in response to the Quebec Council on the Status of Women’s call to ban public servants from wearing religious symbols (particularly the hijab and niqab):

Feminism is supposed to empower women to make their own choices.  Instead, the council has framed the road to freedom on its own terms: the secular way, or the highway.

This is nothing but fear.  In the 1960s, men feared strong women.  Today, it seems strong women are feared by women.  Assertive Muslim women do pose a challenge to feminism.  First, there is the embrace of religion, rather than its rejection, that makes many in the feminist establishment queasy. [...]

The fear of Islam is revealed in calls to keep religion a private affair, locked away in our homes.  In the past, we tried to hide what we feared and felt ashamed of – for example, physical disability, homosexuality, mental illness.  Many were ostracized and suffered discrimination.  We realized how wrong it was to deny individuals full participation in society simply because they were different.  Now, there are those whose identity is defined primarily by their relationship to God.  Dare we deny them full rights? (pp. 143-144)

Later, Khan describes the negative reactions of many of her friends to her decision to become more religious, declaring her “brainwashed,” even though “before I ‘got religion,’ my friends thought my mind was perfectly fine” (p. 155).  She highlights some of the fault lines that exist between expressions of openness to all ideas and actual difficulties accepting certain ideas, particularly ones informed by religion.  Although this theme isn’t the focus of the book by any means, I thought it was one that she illustrated particularly well, in ways that many writings on racism and Islamophobia don’t always address.

Of course, I don’t agree with every single thing that Khan says, and that’s okay, but the one major criticism I have of this book is that I felt that Khan lets Canada and Canadian culture off the hook much too easily.  Although she talks about many different instances of racism that Canadian Muslims are currently facing, and even briefly addresses historical discrimination and oppression against other communities, she continues to point to Canada as a model society for diversity and dialogue, with the examples of oppression that she describes as serious but anomalous injustices in a society that is fundamentally just and accepting of all people.

It’s not that she doesn’t have some valuable examples to share of times when multiculturalism has worked, and has fostered friendships that might be impossible in some other places.  However, I would argue that racism, exclusions, and marginalization are all much more deeply rooted within Canadian societies and institutions, both historically and currently, than Khan suggests, and I think that her book could have greatly benefited from a more systemic anti-racist analysis of Canadian multiculturalism.

Although much of its focus is on the Canadian context, there is enough about general issues related to Islam or to global politics that would likely be of interest to  a much broader audience beyond Canada’s borders.  All in all, this was an interesting read, and definitely a worthwhile book, one that would be accessible and informative for both Muslims and non-Muslims.