Back in 2017 during a class -- held at a renowned public university -- where the teacher was discussing religious fundamentalism, at one point during the discussion the teacher asked the students if they knew how the Taliban treat their women counterparts. Pointing at a female student who was wearing a burkha, the teacher then proceeded to explain exactly how the Islamist group treats their women.
Surprisingly, the student who the teacher was subtly pointing at came from a remote area of Bangladesh. Living in a residency hall, she had to struggle against the harsh realities of life. She managed both household chores and her studies at the same time. Moreover, as the first-born of a lower-middle-class family, she had been bearing her own educational expenses from a very early age.
This student had nothing in common with the women who are treated as “sex commodities” by religious fundamentalists. On the other hand, from the established point of view of women's empowerment, she can also be considered an “empowered woman.” But the Islamic cover she usually wore created obstacles in applying this tag. This was perhaps the only reason she was considered a victim of religious oppression.
This example is not an exception. A large number of liberal intellectuals still consider the burkha as a symbol of religious oppression or backwardness. I have seen many liberals arguing that Bangladeshi women are lagging behind, which is indicated by their attires. Even many conservative families look for women who tend to cover themselves as potential daughters-in-law because they are thought to be subordinate enough to control.
But does upholding “purdah” (covering) really symbolize subordination?
Such conceptions most likely have their roots in mainstream Western feminism, which has a tendency to treat women as a monolith. For them, women from all over the world (regardless of their class, race, or social position) are the victim of an oppressive gender stratification system at the same rate. Though Western women are empowered enough to fight their oppressors, women from developing countries are not so privileged.
“Third world women” has become a category for women who are poor, subordinate, oppressed, and in need of “salvation” from their male counterparts. Obviously, the West would be the ultimate savior for them.
In her book Do Muslim Women Need Saving? (2013), Lila Abu-Lughod showed how Western societies constructed “Muslim women” (a predominant subcategory of Third World women) as the subordinated entity through some stereotypical notions, ignoring their individualities, diversities, and historical and political complexities.
Based on ethnographic research, Abu-Lughod challenged the conventional image of “the Muslim woman” by highlighting their struggles. By looking at the life story of one of the key informants, Jaynab, we can feel the absurdity of these stereotypes through her story that also challenges the mainstream notion of empowerment.
Despite being an uneducated and rural woman who upholds purdah, Jaynab had absolute authority over household management. Indeed, she couldn't come out of her bad marriage due to social constraints but she didn't let it ruin the meaning of her life. She had her own choices, struggles, and opinions which could distinguish her from many modern, educated women even. Still, the world categorizes women like Jaynab as “subjugated” just because of their religious identities and choice of clothing.
Abu-Lughod also dedicated an entire chapter in her book to indicate how the West politicizes the veil. According to her, the West justified its invasion of the Muslim world by portraying Muslim women as needing rescue from their own community; the veil was the dominant symbol of this oppression.
The same thing happened in Afghanistan. Lila Abu Lughod did not deny that the Taliban are a threat to the lives of women, but she opposed the notion that veiling fundamentally represented a lack of agency. Rather, she considered the veil as “mobile homes” that are associated with different meanings and statuses.
Surprisingly, a significant number of Bangladeshi people do believe in these Western-centric stereotypes. For this reason, concerns over women's attire are getting more priority than many other essential things. It is true that our women are often prey to religious exploitation and this should not be glorified in any way, but it is also true that many women choose the purdah willfully.
Their choices are also mediated by external factors other than religion (such as dusty environment or insecurity) and it is unlikely that their attires hamper their daily activities and decision-making. Most importantly, a large number of women use the veil to cover themselves. Thus, stereotyping them as being backwards can be considered an attempt to exclude them from the wider society, which ironically prevents us from being a more equal society.
Aditi Sharif is an Anthropologist, currently working as a Research Assistant at University of Liberal Arts Bangladesh.
