Behind the veil

When religious Jewish and Muslim women cover themselves, are they succumbing to chauvinistic tradition or rather making a liberating decision?

Efrat Shapira-Rosenberg |Published: 06.24.07 , 16:14

She was walking in front of me in a crowded Jaffa street, covered in black from head to toe: Shoes, socks, pants, a long dress on top, gloves (!) and of course – a veil, which revealed only a pair of black eyes.

It was steaming hot outside – over 30 degrees Celsius and terribly humid, and I immediately felt sorry for the poor woman. How hot she must be, I thought, how sweaty, how miserable it was to go through the scalding Mediterranean summer like this. And then feminist thoughts began running through my head – "How can women be oppressed this way? What a humiliation! Why doesn't she rebel against this? What a pity she's unaware of all the things she is missing out on in the world," etc. I practically couldn't take my eyes off of her.

While I was busy with my progressive thoughts, I noticed that the girl walking beside me was staring at me, and I was mortified when I recognized the look in her eyes. She was looking at me in the same way I was looking at the woman in front of me. Over 30 degrees Celsius and terribly humid, she was wearing shorts and a tank top, while I was wearing a head scarf, two shirts worn one on top of the other in order to cover my arms, a long (and hot) jeans skirt, etc.

"How hot she must be," she was probably thinking, "How sweaty she must be, how miserable it is to go through the Mediterranean summer like this…" and this is before feminist thoughts began running through her head - "How can women be oppressed this way? What a humiliation! Why doesn't she rebel against this? What a pity she's unaware of all the things she is missing out on in the world." She practically could not take her eyes off of me.

Who are you to judge?

Naturally I became annoyed. I could see the mixed pity and contempt in her eyes, and I wanted to "let her have it" – who are you to judge me? How do you know what kind of feminist thoughts run through my head under my scarf? And anyway, who are you to do my calculations for me? Only because you're wearing shorts and a tank top, this means you are more "liberated" than me? What do you know about my sector's worldviews, or the debates that take place in my society over these issues? And maybe I'm all for it? Maybe this fits in nicely with my feminist worldview? Perhaps the scarf and long sleeves represent my true freedom?

Of course this entire discussion took place inside my head. But very slowly I began hearing the Arab woman's voice backing me up in this debate. Suddenly we were on the same side. While this was not the first time I saw her, or others like her, on the street, this was the first time I heard her voice - her contemplation between the commitment and love for tradition, and the desire to look and feel good about herself. I could see her in my mind's eye standing in front of the mirror in her room, imagining how she could look and feel if things were different.

And I could also identify with her eventual decision to continue respecting the boundaries of tradition despite everything.

True, her condition (at least in my opinion), is more extreme than mine, and I'm in many ways grateful that I wasn't born where she was. But today I don’t judge her anymore. I was surprised to find out that I feel more solidarity, empathy and camaraderie with her, than with the critical girl in the shorts and tank top, who is apparently having a much easier time going through this scorching Mediterranean summer.