Banning The Burqa Campaign
The monolithic construction of the “Third World Woman”, as proposed by Mohanty, is demonstrated in recent campaigns by right-wing nationalistic groups in Australia and around the world to ‘Ban the Burqa ’. This was a campaign proclaiming to protect and support and empower Islamic women. We argue that in Western discourse there indeed exists a disconnection between women as the subaltern ‘other’ women and their ‘real’ manifestation as the “material subjects of their collective histories” (Mohanty 1984, p. 334) because the ‘Ban the Burqa’ campaign lacks historical contextualisation and discursively paints all women who wear a full facial covering as oppressed without any consideration as to what the individual women themselves would prefer. Mohanty
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would describe this as a continuation of “discursive colonization” through hegemonic discourse because it is demonstrative of the singular narrative of a structural domination and suppression of women of Islamic faith. With an acknowledgement of the privilege afforded to me due to my gender, we can examine, through a gendered lens, the literature written by many women from the field that addresses arguments for and against enacting these campaigns. This will aid us in our evaluation that Mohanty’s likely position on the ‘ban the burqa’ campaign would be that it is another example of politicised maintenance of the status quo and does very little to empower women.
To begin we should consider the arguments by scholars in favour of the burqa ban. Phyllis Chesler, an American feminist and psychologist professor argues (with many qualitative examples from affected women) that the burqa in particular (but also other religious veils) can be instruments of the denial of identity and agency for some women (2010, ‘Free Choice or Forced Choice’, para. 2). She also highlights the significant health risks both psychological and physical such as anxiety related to claustrophobia or vitamin D deficiency (2010, ‘the Grounds for a Burqa Ban, paras. 4-9). Ayaan Hirsi Ali (2010), a renowned Islamic apostate and feminist writer, also shares the view that the burqa can be objectifying describing it as “restrictive” and that she “can’t condemn the veil enough”. However, Hirsi Ali also stresses that the merit of this argument is undermined in the way right-wing groups approach the issue with a blanket ban. Hirsi Ali instead suggests that the larger debate surrounding the clash of cultures between Western secular liberalism and radical Muslim fundamentalism is being overshadowed by meaningless debates about burqas. This point exemplifies Mohanty’s central argument in the context of the ‘ban the burqa’ campaign. We see that the orchestrators and supporters of the campaign, such as Liberal senator Cory Bernadi or Independent senator Jacqui Lambi, suffer a disconnection with the ‘subaltern’ or ‘other’ women they claim to be representing. That is, they have not adequately consulted with or encouraged the participation of the women who wear these religious garments. And thus by the exclusion of those voices, these politicians have them themselves denied agency and identity to the individual women who choose to wear the veils. Therefore, in terms of the goal of helping women with this campaign we see an abject failure. The power dynamic of such a ban merely a shifts power from outdated patriarchal religious scriptures to the western politicians who are imposing their will without ever actually empowering the women in question.
Much of the feminist scholarship surrounding Mohanty’s central theory of how Western rhetoric continues to subjugate its periphery through a disconnection of the discourse with the historical context of its subjects favourably supports her view. We see an example of such scholarship in Hesford & Kozol’s outline of how the ‘politics of pity’ for seemingly ‘oppressed’ women can be used to justify state military intervention (Hesford & Kozol 2005, p. 26). From this we can draw an unfavourable parallel to how the campaigners for ‘ban the burqa’ also utilise pity to achieve their own political ends. In both situations the concept of the mythical ‘third world woman’ is drawn upon. This stereotype is naught but a series of inaccurate generalisations designed for that purpose of evoking pity. Thus, because it is simply ludicrous to suggest that one can generalise the vast complexities of historical and situational context into a single narrative we can demonstrate how this is just another example of “discursive colonization”. Likewise, Hua & Nigorizawa reveal how western conceptions of human rights arbitrarily victimise sex-workers in the sex-trafficking trade (Hua & Nigorizawa 2010, p. 401). Again parallels can be drawn to the same small-pictured understanding of how little the West knows the ‘real lives’ of women who choose to wear religious wear. Another example is seen with Ho (2007, p. 290) who reiterates and tracks a broader history of colonial government in Australia with its well-intended but oppressive policies such as the forced fostering of Aboriginal children. Like the ‘ban the burqa’ campaign this demonstrates a mainstream political deafness to the voices of the people are affected by such policies. And again this substantiates Mohanty’s core argument.
When we consider the rationale behind the ‘ban the burqa’ campaign, which is that the veil is forced upon women and that the wearing of identity concealing clothing constrains women’s agency, we can discover a substantial flaw in its logic. That is, if the ban were ever to become law, then the enforcement of that law would dictate what women wear can will actually be disempowering not liberating. This is a significant point and to reinforce it, it is useful to demonstrate it in a different context. There are many such things in Western culture that could be argued objectify women. So, for example, if we were to ban makeup on the basis that women wore it for men’s pleasure it would not be hard to imagine that there would be an immediate and consequential backlash. In this example, it is virtually undeniable that the opportunity would be afforded to the Western scholar to have her voice heard on the matter. However, due to the reasons behind Mohanty’s central argument that Western scholarship dominates the discourse on global feminism it would be hard to argue that the same reverence is being afforded to scholars outside the Western sphere on the topic of burqa bans. This epitomises the fundamental error at the core of the ‘ban the burqa’ campaign and highlights its counterproductive nature. Asifa Quaraishi, an assistant professor of Law, argues that we should instead steer the conversation away from Sharia Law and hence consider the women affected by it on a case-by-case basis as this will maximise promotion of true women’s rights (Quraishi 2010, p. 248). This view affirms Mohanty in her reasoning that historical context is the crucial element to debating what women need. This view is also supported by Schubert, who in her critical analysis of the Western perception of universal human rights cites Mohanty directly to advance the point that a “holistic consideration” or bottom-up approach provides more effect in protecting women than combating any “generalised view of religion” ( Schubert 2009, p. 33).
In the interest of balance, it is only fair to also examine the historical and cultural context of the campaign itself.
John Hirst’s article ‘Should we ban the burka?’ (2014) in The Australian newspaper provides us with some of the arguments for banning the burqa. It also contextualises society’s perceptions as it is a relatively representative position of many Australians both liberal and conservative. It is important to note though that The Australian newspaper’s editors are often critiqued by third-party scholars for an alleged bias as the newspaper often reflects the views of its owner, Rupert Murdoch a very wealthy Australian-born, American citizen with strong conservative ties. Observing this potential bias we can dissect Hirst’s arguments in favour of a burqa ban. Foremost in his argument is that wearing full body clothing is consistent with an attitude of “I can see you but you cannot see me”. He argues that this shows “contempt” for Australian values as it “discourages normal human interaction” on the basis that facial signals cannot be read (‘Should we ban the burqa?’, 2010, para. 3). This point seems fair in an open society such as Australia’s, however, this does not qualify as a reason for enforcing what women can or can’t wear. It may be a noble end but it is in no way a noble means. As outlined in earlier paragraphs the enforcement of such a ban denies the women it affects the agency to affect their own changes. The apparent neglect in addressing this point in the article is indicative of the accuracy of Mohanty’s argument that Western hegemonic discourse subjugates its
periphery.
In order to best evaluate Mohanty we need to better understand what divides feminists on this issue of a ‘burqa ban’. Spohn does this for us by separating the two conflicting feminist accounts on the issue of the burqa ban whilst also assuming human rights as a “normative basis for argumentation” (Spohn 2013, p. 145). She indicates that most of the pro-ban position highlight the principle of dignity of person as well as the principle of gender equality. They argue “it is the right of every human being to self-determination and freedom from domination” (Spohn 2013, p. 148). Conversely anti-ban feminists argue such a ban bears “obvious threats to human rights: not only to freedom of speech and of religious beliefs but also to women’s right to access public spaces”. What is important to note, however, is the language some of these pro-ban feminists use. Consider Elisabeth Badinter, French philosopher and essayist, who whilst acknowledging that “it should be a woman’s free choice to wear the burqa”, continues onto use the language of Mohanty’s ‘third world woman’ when she says it is important to protect the others, that is, “the ones who are subjugated, the gagged ones who have no right to speak” (Spohn 2013, p. 149). This is crucial, because whilst no doubt that Badinter is a sincere and ardent feminist, she falls into the familiar trappings of Mohanty’s Western scholar by assuming the victimacy of veil wearers. That is not to say that there are not women who are victims of forced adherence of an outdated patriarchal cultural system, but making generalisations about such women, Mohanty would argue does significantly more harm than good. This is supported by the feelings of shame and ostracisation many women report feeling when confronted by the societies of Western countries. By banning the burqa we are tacitly suggesting to both to the practitioners and to the rest of society that these women’s faith and culture are wrong. And this just reinvigorates the vicious cycle that perpetuates inaccurate myths like the ‘Third World Woman’.
In conclusion, it is evident from much of the scholarship around directly related to this issue, that Mohanty has a clear substantiative argument when it comes to how Western hegemonic discourse utilises the concept of the ‘subaltern’ or ‘other’ woman to subjugate the peripheral discourse through ‘discursive colonization’. As demonstrated, we see how the ‘ban the burqa’ campaign reveals the potency of Mohanty’s argument and how this issue permeates extensively throughout the Western world. It is testament to the strength of her argument that support for such campaigns are easily critiqued by the framework of her theory. Hence it is fundamental that if we are ever to have a truly equitable society than we must empower those who have little voice and afford them the agency to make the changes they see necessary in order to improve their world and their standing otherwise we are merely maintaining the politicised status quo.
would describe this as a continuation of “discursive colonization” through hegemonic discourse because it is demonstrative of the singular narrative of a structural domination and suppression of women of Islamic faith. With an acknowledgement of the privilege afforded to me due to my gender, we can examine, through a gendered lens, the literature written by many women from the field that addresses arguments for and against enacting these campaigns. This will aid us in our evaluation that Mohanty’s likely position on the ‘ban the burqa’ campaign would be that it is another example of politicised maintenance of the status quo and does very little to empower women.
To begin we should consider the arguments by scholars in favour of the burqa ban. Phyllis Chesler, an American feminist and psychologist professor argues (with many qualitative examples from affected women) that the burqa in particular (but also other religious veils) can be instruments of the denial of identity and agency for some women (2010, ‘Free Choice or Forced Choice’, para. 2). She also highlights the significant health risks both psychological and physical such as anxiety related to claustrophobia or vitamin D deficiency (2010, ‘the Grounds for a Burqa Ban, paras. 4-9). Ayaan Hirsi Ali (2010), a renowned Islamic apostate and feminist writer, also shares the view that the burqa can be objectifying describing it as “restrictive” and that she “can’t condemn the veil enough”. However, Hirsi Ali also stresses that the merit of this argument is undermined in the way right-wing groups approach the issue with a blanket ban. Hirsi Ali instead suggests that the larger debate surrounding the clash of cultures between Western secular liberalism and radical Muslim fundamentalism is being overshadowed by meaningless debates about burqas. This point exemplifies Mohanty’s central argument in the context of the ‘ban the burqa’ campaign. We see that the orchestrators and supporters of the campaign, such as Liberal senator Cory Bernadi or Independent senator Jacqui Lambi, suffer a disconnection with the ‘subaltern’ or ‘other’ women they claim to be representing. That is, they have not adequately consulted with or encouraged the participation of the women who wear these religious garments. And thus by the exclusion of those voices, these politicians have them themselves denied agency and identity to the individual women who choose to wear the veils. Therefore, in terms of the goal of helping women with this campaign we see an abject failure. The power dynamic of such a ban merely a shifts power from outdated patriarchal religious scriptures to the western politicians who are imposing their will without ever actually empowering the women in question.
Much of the feminist scholarship surrounding Mohanty’s central theory of how Western rhetoric continues to subjugate its periphery through a disconnection of the discourse with the historical context of its subjects favourably supports her view. We see an example of such scholarship in Hesford & Kozol’s outline of how the ‘politics of pity’ for seemingly ‘oppressed’ women can be used to justify state military intervention (Hesford & Kozol 2005, p. 26). From this we can draw an unfavourable parallel to how the campaigners for ‘ban the burqa’ also utilise pity to achieve their own political ends. In both situations the concept of the mythical ‘third world woman’ is drawn upon. This stereotype is naught but a series of inaccurate generalisations designed for that purpose of evoking pity. Thus, because it is simply ludicrous to suggest that one can generalise the vast complexities of historical and situational context into a single narrative we can demonstrate how this is just another example of “discursive colonization”. Likewise, Hua & Nigorizawa reveal how western conceptions of human rights arbitrarily victimise sex-workers in the sex-trafficking trade (Hua & Nigorizawa 2010, p. 401). Again parallels can be drawn to the same small-pictured understanding of how little the West knows the ‘real lives’ of women who choose to wear religious wear. Another example is seen with Ho (2007, p. 290) who reiterates and tracks a broader history of colonial government in Australia with its well-intended but oppressive policies such as the forced fostering of Aboriginal children. Like the ‘ban the burqa’ campaign this demonstrates a mainstream political deafness to the voices of the people are affected by such policies. And again this substantiates Mohanty’s core argument.
When we consider the rationale behind the ‘ban the burqa’ campaign, which is that the veil is forced upon women and that the wearing of identity concealing clothing constrains women’s agency, we can discover a substantial flaw in its logic. That is, if the ban were ever to become law, then the enforcement of that law would dictate what women wear can will actually be disempowering not liberating. This is a significant point and to reinforce it, it is useful to demonstrate it in a different context. There are many such things in Western culture that could be argued objectify women. So, for example, if we were to ban makeup on the basis that women wore it for men’s pleasure it would not be hard to imagine that there would be an immediate and consequential backlash. In this example, it is virtually undeniable that the opportunity would be afforded to the Western scholar to have her voice heard on the matter. However, due to the reasons behind Mohanty’s central argument that Western scholarship dominates the discourse on global feminism it would be hard to argue that the same reverence is being afforded to scholars outside the Western sphere on the topic of burqa bans. This epitomises the fundamental error at the core of the ‘ban the burqa’ campaign and highlights its counterproductive nature. Asifa Quaraishi, an assistant professor of Law, argues that we should instead steer the conversation away from Sharia Law and hence consider the women affected by it on a case-by-case basis as this will maximise promotion of true women’s rights (Quraishi 2010, p. 248). This view affirms Mohanty in her reasoning that historical context is the crucial element to debating what women need. This view is also supported by Schubert, who in her critical analysis of the Western perception of universal human rights cites Mohanty directly to advance the point that a “holistic consideration” or bottom-up approach provides more effect in protecting women than combating any “generalised view of religion” ( Schubert 2009, p. 33).
In the interest of balance, it is only fair to also examine the historical and cultural context of the campaign itself.
John Hirst’s article ‘Should we ban the burka?’ (2014) in The Australian newspaper provides us with some of the arguments for banning the burqa. It also contextualises society’s perceptions as it is a relatively representative position of many Australians both liberal and conservative. It is important to note though that The Australian newspaper’s editors are often critiqued by third-party scholars for an alleged bias as the newspaper often reflects the views of its owner, Rupert Murdoch a very wealthy Australian-born, American citizen with strong conservative ties. Observing this potential bias we can dissect Hirst’s arguments in favour of a burqa ban. Foremost in his argument is that wearing full body clothing is consistent with an attitude of “I can see you but you cannot see me”. He argues that this shows “contempt” for Australian values as it “discourages normal human interaction” on the basis that facial signals cannot be read (‘Should we ban the burqa?’, 2010, para. 3). This point seems fair in an open society such as Australia’s, however, this does not qualify as a reason for enforcing what women can or can’t wear. It may be a noble end but it is in no way a noble means. As outlined in earlier paragraphs the enforcement of such a ban denies the women it affects the agency to affect their own changes. The apparent neglect in addressing this point in the article is indicative of the accuracy of Mohanty’s argument that Western hegemonic discourse subjugates its
periphery.
In order to best evaluate Mohanty we need to better understand what divides feminists on this issue of a ‘burqa ban’. Spohn does this for us by separating the two conflicting feminist accounts on the issue of the burqa ban whilst also assuming human rights as a “normative basis for argumentation” (Spohn 2013, p. 145). She indicates that most of the pro-ban position highlight the principle of dignity of person as well as the principle of gender equality. They argue “it is the right of every human being to self-determination and freedom from domination” (Spohn 2013, p. 148). Conversely anti-ban feminists argue such a ban bears “obvious threats to human rights: not only to freedom of speech and of religious beliefs but also to women’s right to access public spaces”. What is important to note, however, is the language some of these pro-ban feminists use. Consider Elisabeth Badinter, French philosopher and essayist, who whilst acknowledging that “it should be a woman’s free choice to wear the burqa”, continues onto use the language of Mohanty’s ‘third world woman’ when she says it is important to protect the others, that is, “the ones who are subjugated, the gagged ones who have no right to speak” (Spohn 2013, p. 149). This is crucial, because whilst no doubt that Badinter is a sincere and ardent feminist, she falls into the familiar trappings of Mohanty’s Western scholar by assuming the victimacy of veil wearers. That is not to say that there are not women who are victims of forced adherence of an outdated patriarchal cultural system, but making generalisations about such women, Mohanty would argue does significantly more harm than good. This is supported by the feelings of shame and ostracisation many women report feeling when confronted by the societies of Western countries. By banning the burqa we are tacitly suggesting to both to the practitioners and to the rest of society that these women’s faith and culture are wrong. And this just reinvigorates the vicious cycle that perpetuates inaccurate myths like the ‘Third World Woman’.
In conclusion, it is evident from much of the scholarship around directly related to this issue, that Mohanty has a clear substantiative argument when it comes to how Western hegemonic discourse utilises the concept of the ‘subaltern’ or ‘other’ woman to subjugate the peripheral discourse through ‘discursive colonization’. As demonstrated, we see how the ‘ban the burqa’ campaign reveals the potency of Mohanty’s argument and how this issue permeates extensively throughout the Western world. It is testament to the strength of her argument that support for such campaigns are easily critiqued by the framework of her theory. Hence it is fundamental that if we are ever to have a truly equitable society than we must empower those who have little voice and afford them the agency to make the changes they see necessary in order to improve their world and their standing otherwise we are merely maintaining the politicised status quo.