One afternoon last week I saw something on the subway I’d never seen before, a woman in a burqa, a full body robe, and a niqab, a face veil that leaves only the eyes uncovered. Her robes were a heavy black cotton but her veil was a silver-grey chiffon, so that you could see the shape of her nose and her long, dark hair underneath. It was a young woman, I think, maybe a college student. She paired her robes with sensible leather boots and a knee-length parka, and carried a canvas tote bag full of books. After taking a seat she pulled a galley out of her bag and began to read.
Of course the whole purpose of the burqa is to dampen a woman’s physical allure, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off this woman. I wanted to know who she was, where she was going, and what she was reading. Nicolas Szarkosy, famously and controversially, made it illegal for women to wear the burqa in France earlier this year, saying that it concealed their identities and threatened national security. The move was interpreted as both colonialist and feminist. One positive thing about the ban, I think, is that it encourages women from immigrant communities to participate in civic culture. There was nothing suspicious, or even conspicuous, about the woman I saw on the subway. Surrounded by high school students and construction workers on their way home, she attracted little attention from anyone besides me. But even the most cursory online search for burqa pulls up images of women in garments that resemble Klansmen’s robes, and that leave them faceless and voiceless. Maybe it’s a decision best left to each woman.
