(no subject)
Apr. 14th, 2010 12:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
John R. Bowen's Why the French Don't Like Headscarves was another recommendation from
schiarire. In 2004, a law passed in France that made it illegal to wear "conspicuous religious symbols" in public schools, which to me at the time (and to many not-me people, I would think . . .) seemed sort of crazy for a number of reasons, considering that it means kids can be expelled for wearing, among other things: yarmulkes, large crosses, Sikh turbans, and, of course, the Islamic headscarf or 'la voile'. The book basically undertakes to explain the origins of the law and the attitude towards headscarves and how the law came to be passed.
The law seems no less crazy to me now, really, but I think I at least theoretically understand the underpinnings of it better? The part that seems most obviously crazy is the fact that the main justification for the law was to make sure young women were not being forced by The Islamic Patriarchy to wear headscarves - obviously crazy because many of the girls involved in Dramatic Headscarf Cases were not in fact from super-religious families (two of them, the Levy girls, had a Jewish atheist for a father), and had clearly decided to start wearing the scarves as symbols of their own identity and independence. I mean, the subtext there, which Bowen lays out, is obviously that the idea of young French people finding strength in Islamic identity is frightening to many more mainstream French people, with racism and Islamophobia very much tied into that. Not to mention the fact that many North African feminists from Islamic countries were coming to France and actively speaking out against the voile - and their experiences are obviously very important to listen to, and not to discount - but at the same time, no one was actually listening to the girls in question or taking their viewpoint into account, and that can't ever be a good thing in a debate like this even without the basic problem that, hey, it just got a lot easier to kick immigrant girls from Islamic neighborhoods out of school, awesome.
But at least I can see and understand the reasoning and cause and effect there, even though I don't like a lot of it. The other point, that was much harder for me to grasp on an emotional/intuitive level, is this concept that seeing someone else's religious symbol can be considered an intrusion into 'public space' and a threat to freedom of religion. Bowen points out that people described seeing women walking around in headscarves as an offense to them, an offense to the idea of France as a secular country, and on an intuitive level that sort of boggles me, becaus what someone chooses to wear or feels necessary to wear for religious beliefs is about their choices, not about the observer! To me that seems self-evident. But the history of France regarding religion, and the attitude towards religion there, is very different than it is here, and Bowen does a very good job of explaining that and making that difference clear.
I'm sorry, guys, I feel like this is a very rambly and not super-coherent review. Anyway, the book made me think a lot about my own assumptions about what freedom of religion means, and . . . I still don't think my assumptions are wrong, but thinking about them isn't a bad thing regardless.
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
The law seems no less crazy to me now, really, but I think I at least theoretically understand the underpinnings of it better? The part that seems most obviously crazy is the fact that the main justification for the law was to make sure young women were not being forced by The Islamic Patriarchy to wear headscarves - obviously crazy because many of the girls involved in Dramatic Headscarf Cases were not in fact from super-religious families (two of them, the Levy girls, had a Jewish atheist for a father), and had clearly decided to start wearing the scarves as symbols of their own identity and independence. I mean, the subtext there, which Bowen lays out, is obviously that the idea of young French people finding strength in Islamic identity is frightening to many more mainstream French people, with racism and Islamophobia very much tied into that. Not to mention the fact that many North African feminists from Islamic countries were coming to France and actively speaking out against the voile - and their experiences are obviously very important to listen to, and not to discount - but at the same time, no one was actually listening to the girls in question or taking their viewpoint into account, and that can't ever be a good thing in a debate like this even without the basic problem that, hey, it just got a lot easier to kick immigrant girls from Islamic neighborhoods out of school, awesome.
But at least I can see and understand the reasoning and cause and effect there, even though I don't like a lot of it. The other point, that was much harder for me to grasp on an emotional/intuitive level, is this concept that seeing someone else's religious symbol can be considered an intrusion into 'public space' and a threat to freedom of religion. Bowen points out that people described seeing women walking around in headscarves as an offense to them, an offense to the idea of France as a secular country, and on an intuitive level that sort of boggles me, becaus what someone chooses to wear or feels necessary to wear for religious beliefs is about their choices, not about the observer! To me that seems self-evident. But the history of France regarding religion, and the attitude towards religion there, is very different than it is here, and Bowen does a very good job of explaining that and making that difference clear.
I'm sorry, guys, I feel like this is a very rambly and not super-coherent review. Anyway, the book made me think a lot about my own assumptions about what freedom of religion means, and . . . I still don't think my assumptions are wrong, but thinking about them isn't a bad thing regardless.
no subject
Date: 2010-04-14 05:30 pm (UTC)I'd point out, though, that as much as the French like to say the word "secular" and "public space" it's just not true that religion is completely absent from the public sphere. Nativity displays that would be unconstitutional in the United States are common practice in France; training for Catholic clergy is provided by public institutions (and there's been a lot of friction between the French government and the Muslim institutions in France that there hasn't been success in arranging a similar program for imams). One thing I've found pretty consistently is that when the word "secular" is used, they really mean "Christian," because Christianity already has cultural and identity connections to French national identity, whereas Islam especially (there are other minorities - Antisemitism has been the target of a lot of anti-racist legislation in France because that's how racism has been characterized in France, not that it's necessarily been all that successful; and one of my favorite lines in the book was "We have Sikhs?" - Islam is still the most numerous and tends to be the most strongly associated with poverty and crime) is not connected with that identity.
The hardest thing for me to get my head around in the French model, then, wasn't so much the idea that there was a "public space," because frankly, I do think what they really mean is a "French space" - and anything that isn't considered "French" yet isn't permitted. The public school system is a central and highly important part of that space, much more so than we can imagine in the United States. But what was hard for me to remember was that, in France, it's not about separation of Church and State. The Church has to stay out of the State - but the State has a responsibility to regulate the Church. And in the U.S., that would obviously seem to impede on religious freedom. It really did take a lot of thought and going back to the religious conflicts of the past in France for me to get my head around that.
... and now that I've blabbed over your journal, uh. I LOVE THAT BOOK. Yeah.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2010-04-14 09:16 pm (UTC)I can kind of see why this upsets people. I've sometimes felt uncomfortable driving around my hometown around Christmas time and seeing giant nativity scenes on church lawns -- not public property, of course, but so large as to feel a little in-your-face. (Though that's also a product of growing up in said town, where people were occasionally offensive about religious matters, so I probably read it that way more than I should.) I could see how it would be possible to go from there to "the really large religious symbols other people wear offend me," though I personally don't see it that way.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2010-04-14 10:18 pm (UTC)I believe it's true that "secular" in France implicitly means "nonpracticing Catholic." I also believe there's a sincere attachment to the idea of a totally neutral public space in which all citizens are indistinguishable according to a contract they entered into with the state by living in its territory. The latter is historically motivated by the former, which is one reason that is so invisible -- in its omnipresence -- to many people involved in this debate. Unfortunately that's a form of privilege. So as long as "secular" is not detached from its "nonpracticing Catholic" context, it will favor Catholics (practicing or not), and other Christians by extension, while disadvantaging other groups. And that is balls.
I think debates about universal public space are worthwhile, especially as that idea is a cornerstone in French political/national culture/identity, but there's no meaning in them at all if "universal" only really means "universal ... for some."
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2010-04-15 02:07 am (UTC)Having grown up in the Bible Belt, I am adamant in my position to have a separation of church and state, but I am also adamant about people having freedom of religion. Those two positions can sometimes conflict, but on the whole, if it's on your person or on your property, go for it.
Working at my former Head Start, which is federally funded and has some pretty strict guidelines to ensure inclusiveness, we didn't celebrate holidays. Except Valentine's Day, but it was called Friendship Day. This worked very well, since we had Muslim and Hindu families. The use of pork in meals was not an issue; it was eliminated as easily as you eliminate peanut butter from centers where kids have severe allergies. It doesn't take a lot to be inclusive or respectful.
Okay, this was rambly, too. Please forgive! It's a very interesting topic, and I am glad you chose this book to talk about.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From: