French Dress Codes: Discrimination Unveiled?

On 11 April, France became the first European state to impose a public dress code that will outlaw the wearing of a form of dress that some Muslims consider to be pious obligation.  This, as noted in a piece published by the AP, will result in an inconsistent social milieu whereby women may bare their breasts in Cannes but not cover their faces on the Champs Elysees.  Once again, questions  concerning individual liberty are being brought to the fore.

To be clear, the ban makes no specific mention of “women”, let alone “Islam” or religion-specific garb.  In this respect, Claude Gueant, France’s Interior Minister, was not wholly inaccurate in his assertion that the legislation protects ‘the principle of equality between man and woman’.  However, Gueant’s claim that the ban similarly entrenches secularism – a cornerstone of French society since the formal separation of church and state in the early-twentieth century – is misleading.  Conventionally conceived, secularism in democratic society connotes freedom from religious impositions and interference of the state; in essence, freedom of religion.  However, actively purging society of religious freedoms (the open wearing of all religious icons and garments has been banned in French schools since 2004) is more akin to laicism, with the state actively seeking to promote a society divorced from religion.  With France’s notorious struggle to integrate Muslim immigrants, coupled with a recent Europe-wide trend amongst political leaders to accuse multiculturalism of being the root cause of social disunity through the creation of parallel communities, an underlying intention of the legislation becomes apparent.  Improving integration requires that common societal values be introduced and adhered to.  By necessity, such values must be free from religious diktat.  Constituting Europe’s largest minority Muslim population, France’s five million Muslims were therefore an easy target.  Thus, while the legislation does not make reference to Islamic veilings, it is clear that Muslim women choosing to cover their faces were the implicit focus of the ban.  Supporters of the embargo point to the ban in educational establishments as evidence that Muslims are not being singled out.  However, this is fallacious: while it is true that the 2004 suspension applied to all equally, the 2011 moratorium will have a disproportionate impact on Muslims.  Moreover, the latest legislation does not stop at the school gates. 

In the opinion of the French government (as well as many elsewhere across Europe where similar bans have been proposed, such as Belgium and the Netherlands), veils which mask a person’s identity are inherently injurious to liberty, eroding the standards required for life in a shared society.   Equally, the government has argued, such attire is incompatible with French notions of equality by virtue of the assumed inferiority such garments portray.  However, to argue in such a manner is erroneous.  Modern conceptions of liberty, as propagated by such thinkers as John Stuart Mill, abide by the simple principle that power may only be ‘rightfully exercised’ over an individual in civilised society, against his will, to ‘prevent harm to others’.  With examples of such clothing being employed to disguise criminal activity being few and far between, the harm that veils may cause to others is bordering nonexistent.  Conversely, with the difficulties associated with proving coercion into veiling, a ban may seem justified to prevent harm to those wearing a covering.  However, David Allen Green points out that banning such items in public could have the adverse effect of stranding women at home, thereby failing to prevent harm in this respect.  For example, Mariam, 32, who wears the niqab by ‘personal choice’ and for ‘religious conviction’, will be forced to publicly expose her face for the first time in five years, declaring: ‘I have decided to obey the law but to leave home as little as possible’.  While it is undoubtedly reprehensible to force a veil upon someone, in an incongruity overlooked by the government, it is equally deplorable to compel an individual to remove a veil.

Interestingly, while being criticised by Muslims abroad as impinging religious freedom, the law has provoked only a limited backlash in France.  Many Muslim leaders have said they support neither the veil nor the ban, opining that interpretations of the Quran necessitating veiling are misguided in the first instance.  It is in this vein that Hassan Chalghoumi, an imam in the suburb of Drancy, northeast of Paris, supports the new law: ‘These women are under the impression that wearing the veil is a religious obligation. … We have an obligation to protect them, to educate them’.  However, once more, in terms of liberty, such coercion is improper; while debate concerning whether the tenets of Islam require veiling perpetuates among scholars and adherents alike, individuals must be free to decide for themselves both how they wish to interpret religious requirements and, accordingly, whether or not to wear a veil.

The punishment for breaking the law is liability to a fine of up to €150 (£133) and a citizenship course (a fine of up to €60,000, as well as two years imprisonment, may be levied for forcing others to wear a veil).  This highlights a fundamental paradox; while the ban allegedly aims to remove suppression and enhance freedom, it will be enforced through curtailing precisely those characteristics, followed by a lesson in state subservience.  While the fine associated with the offence is relatively minor, it bears great symbolic significance.  Thus, Rachid Nekkaz, a French Muslim property dealer, is creating a fund to pay women’s fines, encouraging ‘all free women who so wish to wear the veil in the street and engage in civil disobedience’.  

At least two women were detained on 11 April, though police state that this was a result of joining an unauthorised protest outside Paris’ Notre Dame cathedral rather than for wearing a veil.  ‘Today was not about arresting people because of wearing the veil.  It was for not having respected the requirement to declare a demonstration’ said police spokesman Alexis Marsan.  It was unclear whether charges for wearing veilings would also be brought.  Similarly, in Avignon, Kenza Drider boarded a train wearing a niqab, as she had long declared she would.  The police refrained from challenging her, with Drider insisting that hers was ‘not an act of provocation. … I’m only carrying out my citizens’ rights’.  This lack of protest may be read as indicating overriding support for the ban.  Equally, it may indicate an acceptance of state authority, with those who would logically be most inclined to protest wishing to maintain their religious convictions and remaining indoors.  However the move is interpreted, France has set a dangerous precedent; with some opinion polls suggesting Sarkozy lags behind Marine Le Pen, the ensuing rightward shift could result in further infringements of civil liberties.  As Thomas Jefferson famously proclaimed: ‘A society that will trade a little liberty for a little order will lose both, and deserve neither’.