I hate the burqua – that long, flowing, shapeless garment that is the symbol of women’s oppression in muslim countries.  Yes, I know, there are apologists who say its a choice, it allows a woman to protect her natural beauties which are meant for her husband alone, blah blah blah.  Sorry, I don’t buy it.  It is meant to subjugate and relegate women to a second class citizenry that we then say we ‘chose’.  If the choice is don’t leave the house, or leave fully covered, a woman will ‘choose’ the covering.  Any woman who tells others that she chooses a burqua because she is a modern, independent muslim woman is lying to herself.  Especially in the United States,where wearing a burqua makes you stand out like the proverbial sore thumb – you aren’t walking the streets blending in to society, you are making everyone around you aware of your difference.  They do exactly what you don’t intend them to do when you wear it – they look at you.

But let me ask this, who chooses to walk through life as a non-entity, non-existent?  Who puts on an outfit to make sure no one ever notices her unless she is ashamed or afraid of being a ‘her’.

My mother wore the burqua for most of her teenage years.  She hates it too.  It suffocates her, you can only see pieces of the outside world – like a horse with blinders on you can only see straight ahead.  It makes you trip and gets caught between your knees.  It’s horribly hot and has no ventilation, save the mask in the front.  When she went to Afghanistan two years ago, it was the burqua she despised the most, more than the bombed out buildings or the ravaged shell of her hometown.  It wasn’t what had changed, but what had stayed the same – the continued oppression of women was in full force, the same as it was when she left 36 years ago.

The burqua is the hallmark of all that is wrong with Islamic states, too much emphasis on a woman’s booty and not enough on infrastructure and education.

France has proposed a ban on the burqua.  Turkey, recently lifted a ban against the hijab. In the United States, there is fequently talk about banning the burqua, and while I don’t like it from a civil liberties perspective, the feminist in me would be thrilled.

Years ago, a woman in Orlando brought suit against the state because they wouldn’t let her keep her burqua on for her driver’s license picture.  The picture would have been of a ghost, like on scooby-doo – a person covered in a sheet.  How could you possibly identify her like that?  Newsflash to said woman in Orlando, in Saudi Arabia where women are required to wear the burqua they do not drive because, well, its hard to fucking see with that thing on.  A bit of a safety hazard, you know?

In the U.S., a woman was told she had to remove her niqab while testifying in small claims court or risk having her case dismissed.  In Toronto, a judge required a woman who was the alleged victim of a rape to remove her full face covering as well.  I don’t mean to be insensitive, but if its my client charged with this crime, I’d like to know if the woman is snickering or rolling her eyes while she sends my client to prison for a couple many years. Isn’t that one way of knowing if a person is being truthful, eye contact, body language? 

This post could end up in a “if you don’t like it here, go somewhere else” type of thing.  And, really, when I walk around in the DC heat in the middle of summer and see a man in shorts and a t-shirt with a wife in a black burqua, I want to punch him in the face.  She walks next to him, pushing the stroller with a baby girl in it, and I want to punch the wife in the face too for perpetuating it, for allowing it to happen.  If she tells me its a choice, I’ll want to know, will you let your daughter make a different choice?  Or, will I see her in the mall a couple of years from now at Build-a-Bear, her hair properly covered, a long dress with long sleeves and leggings covering her little legs in the middle of July?

There is an Iranian poet, Mirzadeh Eshqi, who wrote a poem called “Women in Shrouds”

Why the fuss? Men are God’s servants and women are too.
What have women done wrong, to feel shame before men?
What are these unbecoming, uncouth cloaks and veils?
They are winding sheets, meant for the dead, not the living.
I say “Death to the men who bury women alive
in the name of religion!” That is enough to say here.

If two or three poets add their voices to mine,
The people will soon start humming this song
Their hums will uncover the women’s fair faces,
The women will proudly throw off their vile masks
The people will then have some joy in their lives.
But otherwise, what will become of Iran?
With the women in shrouds, half the nation is dead.

The burqua irks me.  I want to wake women up from the notion that these things are legitimate choices.  A legitimate choice is staying home to raise your children.  A legitimate choice is even homeschooling.  A legitimate choice is traveling without your kids because you are the CEO of your own little company.  Hiding in plain sight is not a choice, its a hindrance to our progress as human beings, and as women.