WHAT DO LEICESTER'S MUSLIM WOMEN THINK OF THE FACE VEIL, OR NIQAB?

This article appears in today's Leicester Mercury:

What do Leicester's Muslim women think of the face veil, or niqab?

Black for Monday. Black for Tuesday. Black for Wednesday. And so it goes on. A clothes rail filled with almost identical, same colour, shapeless, top-to-toe outfits, writes Adam Wakelin.

You might not think it would take Noorjahan Khonat long to pluck one from a hanger, but it nearly always does.

The daily whims and tiny agonies of what to wear don't stop at the wardrobe door of a devout Muslim.

Noorjahan has her favourites, the ones that make her feel good.

Only someone who didn't understand would think they all looked the same. That's part of the problem.

It can still give her a jolt, just how much fury those baggy black clothes and head scarves can provoke.

"I've had boys come up to me in town and try to tear them off," she says "They call me ninja and laugh, like it's funny.

"I try to talk to the younger ones, but some of the bigger boys can make you really frightened."

Noorjahan wears a face veil, a niqab.

For some, that makes the 42-year-old from Highfields the ultimate faceless victim.

Not just to those boys, but to the French government and a growing clamour of critics over here who would like to follow France's lead by banning the burka and the niqab from public places.

It is a curious coalition; an unlikely alliance of well-meaning liberals and none-too-clever closet racists.

As of last week, in the words of French president Nicolas Sarkozy, the veil was "not welcome" in a country which values sexual equality.

If he gets his way, niqab and burka wearers will be refused access to things such as schools, hospitals and buses.

The liberal justification for this is that the veil is more than just an item of clothing.

It is a symbol of male repression; a backward garment that has no place in modern society, something from the dark ages that reduces women to the status of a formless, faceless non-person.

That might be true for some, but not of Noorjahan, she insists.

She says she wears the veil because she wants to wear the veil, not because someone has forced her to. Funny, thoughtful, and tirelessly talkative, she doesn't give the impression of a downtrodden little woman.

"I wear it because it gives me independence," says Noorjahan.

"No-one can judge me on my looks or my figure.

"I feel more free. I don't get stared at with dirty eyes. If people like me, they like me for who I am inside, as a person. That, to me, is liberating.

"And besides, I like the colour black!" she giggles. "So that's a bonus.

"Sometimes people make fun of you or pull at your clothes. That doesn't make you feel good, but I try to make them understand."

Noorjahan adopted the veil after she got married and had started having children. It has been 18 years now.

Her husband didn't force her into it, she says. It was her decision, something she feels has brought her closer to God.

"It's hard to explain in English", says Noorjahan, fumbling for the right words, "but it makes me feel like a better person. I don't swear or give bad advice or think bad thoughts. It's like sitting on a prince's throne. You have to behave properly.

"Nothing feels more comfortable than wearing my clothes and my veil.

"If I don't wear the veil, I feel naked. It doesn't feel good at all. I feel frightened. I don't feel as though God is protecting me."

It is a strange thing for something so apparently anti-fashion, but the anonymous black silhouette of the burka and niqab has become a status symbol.

A sports star pulls on a pair of expensively-endorsed Nikes, a Tory politician dons an electric blue suit, and the Muslim woman who has to be seen as holier than thou draws a veil over her face.

So says Parvin Ali, a Muslim chaplain, member of the Prime Minister's National Muslim Women's Advisory Group, and board member for business support and enterprise for the East Midlands Development Agency.

The veil has become dangerous and divisive, believes Parvin.

"People see those who wear the niqab as the ultimate practitioners of their faith," she says.

"Creeping elitism is coming in. There is a differentiation. People who don't wear the veil are seen as not such good Muslims, or as strong in their faith. It is almost like there is a hierarchy, and that is very damaging."

Parvin, who lives in Leicester, does not wear a veil or a head scarf. She prays five times a day and she faithfully follows the scriptures of the Qur'an.

Nowhere in that holy book, stresses Parvin, does it state that Muslim women must cover their heads. Many of the most eminent Islamic scholars now decry the veil, she claims.

Preserving one's "modesty", something that is mentioned, should be left up to the individual, based on their personal convictions and faith.

"The veil should be a matter of personal choice," she says. "I have concerns that it's not, particularly in Leicester. Young people are being pushed down a certain road without being given the full information. They feel compelled to wear it by their family, sections of their community or their mosque.

"A lot of women feel isolated, not just from non-Muslim communities but Muslims as well. It is polarising communities."

The rise and rise of the veil is making Leicester more like Dewsbury and Blackburn, she argues, northern towns which have fractured along religious and racial lines.

"I had someone ring me up from Birmingham," says Parvin. "She told me her husband wanted her to move to Leicester because more people were wearing the niqab here.

"What an awful reason to move to Leicester," she sighs. "I said, 'Please don't move to Leicester wearing the niqab. We've got quite enough already'!"

Parvin is not in favour of the state trying to ban burkas or niqabs, but she does believe there is a time and a place for them – doctors, nurses, teachers and others in the public sector should not be allowed to do their jobs behind a veil.

"Nurses should not be allowed to wear a veil," she says. "It is wrong to bend over to that extent to accommodate a minority of individuals.

"A lot of patients don't feel that comfortable interacting with people they can't see.

"If people feel that strongly about wearing a veil they should be in another profession, or do it in a private capacity.

"People may have lots of piercings. That's fine on a personal level. You don't condemn them, but there's a host of reasons why they shouldn't be allowed in a hospital. That's the way I feel about the niqab."