Forget fashion, this is freedom

The Muslim veil has become a hot political issue in France - but
Stella White cannot see what the fuss is about. A Catholic from Kent,
she explains the joys of the complete cover-up
To liberated Westerners, the hijab, or veil, is a stain on womankind.
It symbolises the crushing of the female spirit and isthe mark of
slavery, transforming a woman into a passive lump who is only allowed
out of thehouse to buy her husband's dinner.
When faced with this piece-of-cloth-on-legs, English women will
oftenmeet the eyes peeking out of the hijab with an expression of pity
and sadness. For them, the veil represents a living death. This might
also be the feeling of the French authorities, who have decided to ban
the hijab in schools, believing that no young girl should have to
carry the burden of repression on her tender head.
Yet for many, including myself, the veil is not an instrument of
coercion, but a means of liberation. Personally, I have never felt so
free as I do when I am wearing it.
Before you presume that I am regurgitating propaganda from a culture
that has brainwashed me, I should point out that I am a Catholic, not
a Muslim. I am not from themysterious East, but am a 32-year-old woman
from boring Kent. Nor am I a prude: my life has included spells as an
exotic dancer, kissogram and glamour model. Three of my best friends
are strippers. I have had relationships with Muslimmen, but none of
them ever demanded I wear the hijab; in fact, they found my behaviour
slightly embarrassing. There is nobody in my past that has coerced me
to wear a veil. I do so simply because I love it.
I relish the privacy; the barrier that the hijab creates between
myself and the harsh, frenetic world, especially in London. I find a
great peace behind the veil: I don't feel invaded by nosy passers-by;
the traffic, noise and crowds seem less overwhelming. I can retreat
into my ownsafe world even as I walk and, on a practical level, Ifeel
completely secure from unwanted advances.
The hijab is also a financial security system. Like most pedestrians
in London, I can't afford to give money to every homeless person I
see, but feel stressed and guilty when I walk past them. In my hijab,
my conscience can hide. I also feel fairly safe from muggers. Thieves
glance at me and probably think, "illegal immigrant; not worth the
effort", presuming that my big carrier bags contain only weird,
knobbly vegetables for my 16 children.
In my hijab, shopping is also cheaper. A small minority of Muslim
traders operate a two-tier pricing system with the "one of us" price
being considerably lower than the price for Westerners. If I want a
bargain, I make sure I am"hijabbed-up".
The most amazing effect of wearing the veil is thatyou automatically
seem to become a member of the Muslim community and are accorded all
of the privileges and dignityof a Muslim woman. When I walk into a
Muslim shop, a man will say to me, gently,"Salaam aleikum [peace be
upon you]. How can I help you, madam?" On the bus, Muslim men
fromAfrica, the Middle East or the Far East will move aside for me and
say,"After you, sister."
The offices, bars and clubs of London are full of English girls in
short skirts and strappy sandals, many of them looking for love. Women
who wear the hijab, often despised by the West, actually feel sorry
for these Western women who have to harm themselves with crippling
high heels, skin-choking make-up and obsessive dieting in order to
find a man.
My Iranian friend Mona isa successful businesswoman who goes out every
day looking impeccable, withpainted nails, stilettos, sharp suits and
perfect make-up. "It was just so much easier when I was in Iran," she
says. "You'd get up at nine, throw on your big black hooded dress and
jump in the car. Now, I have to spend two or three hours getting done
up every morning."
Too often, the hijab is dismissed as the preserveof Muslim
fundamentalists. But in the Christian tradition, St Paul ordered women
to cover their heads and, until the Sixties, no woman would be seen
inan English church without a hat and gloves.Many English women wore
hats out in the street or headscarves tiedunder their chin. Hindu and
Sikh women are still expected to cover their heads loosely for their
honour, or izzat, and Orthodox Jewish women have traditionally worn
wigs over their real hair to conceal it from men who are not their
husbands. Yet, among all these cultural groups, only Muslim women
seemto have been described as weak or oppressed on account of their
headgear.
Two of the most unlikely bedfellows are the woman who wears a hijab
and the militant feminist. When women inthe early Seventies
begancropping their hair short,and wearing dungarees and comfortable
shoes, they were rejecting the idea of suffering for fashion and were
refusing to take part in the desperate ritual to attract spoilt, fussy
males.Similarly, a woman in a hijab can retain her identity without
being a slave to finicky Western notions of beauty.
A particularly sad article appeared in a popular women's magazine last
week, entitled: "How to hate your body less." I showed it to my Arab
friend Malika, who shookher head and said: "In myculture, men are so
grateful when they marrya woman that they see her as a gorgeous
princess, whatever shapeor size she is."
Within the hijab, Muslim women know their power and their value. One
Muslim man told me:"My wife is like a beautiful diamond. Would you
leave a precious diamond to get scratched or stolen in thestreet? No,
you would wrap it in velvet. And that is how the hijab protects my
wife, who is more precious to me than any jewel."
Of course, if anybody tried to remove my veil or force me to wear it,
I would react violently. I am privileged to live in a country in which
I can wear whatever I want to.Not all women are so lucky. Personally,
I have found in the hijab a kind of guardian angel. My mother, on the
other hand, claims that I wear it because I can't be bothered to brush
my hair.