A Speck in Their Eye, A Log in Our Own

A bit of a rant:

I am absolutely sick of people tutting and ahhhhhhhing when watching the news or even in the streets, at Islamic women who wear hijab, especially in this country.

First of all this issue is complex. I am sick of this oppressed Islamic women bullshit. It is a gross oversimplification to simply assume that they are wearing these clothes against their “true” will (presumably the will that they are too scared to speak because their violent narrow minded husband will beat them for it). Oh, we think, they must look around at us westerners with such jealously, with our freedom to wear ‘whatever we want'. Not quite. These kind of smug “concerned” attitudes are just as racist as any other stereotypical line of thinking. The truth is that Muslim women often wear these clothes as a personal choice, and for many different reasons: to show solidarity with other Muslims, because they feel it is a personal and meaningful religious obligation, because it gives them an increased sense of security and freedom, because they feel it is the modest polite thing to wear or, god forbid, because they like the style of dress and countless other reasons.

Yes, some women are pressured, sometimes even forced to wear Hijab. When Hijab isn’t a free choice I do have a problem with it, I believe that everybody has a right to choose what they wear in the morning, and if a woman is threatened and feels restricted because of hijab then it is surely wrong. But, before we get on our western high horse that whinnies pity, why not take a look at our own children? I see girls around town aged 12 and 13 struggling to walk in a straight line and without pain on their faces because of the pressure our culture puts on its women to get used to a life of walking in heels, even at such an early age. Although it is often argued that these ‘heels’ are there to empower us to make us feel taller and stronger, in reality often have the effect of making us weaker, more vulnerable, less free – have you ever tried running in them, or walking a long distance? If worn over a long period of time, high heels cause structural damage to a woman’s skelto muscular system, and can often cause great problems with walking in later life. Yet, the cultural pressure to wear these shoes is enormous. Going shoe shopping, the ratio of heeled to flat shoes in many shops is probably about 20:1, girls who don’t conform are often called dowdy or unfashionable, and the advertising budget for shops that stock nearly only these styles of footwear must run into the billions, often only targeting teenage girls. Sure, we don’t say, ‘wear heels or we’ll cut your feet off’ but the fashion monster we have created for our girls and women to slavishly follow is often as strong in its dictatorship as any Shiite regime. All I’m trying to say is, before you feel pity for the woman all in black, look at yourself, or at your own girlfriend, wife or daughter and think: are we really that free?

Secondly

If I have to hear the phrase ‘When in Rome….’, accompanied by a meaningful eye roll aimed in the general direction of Muslims in this country who continue to speak in their mother tongue, socialise with each other and wear traditional dress I will scream! This phrase usually comes straight from the mouths of people who have an air-conditioned house in the heart of the expat community in Spain. There, they speak not a word of Spanish, eat fried breakfasts in English themed bars, walk around their small Spanish villages half naked scaring the locals half to death with their blistering lobster skin. If they don’t actually own a property themselves like this then they would certainly aspire to, or don’t object to English people behaving like this. There is such hypocrisy in our culture. Rich English people moan about the 'immigration problem' or 'Pakis taking over' whilst simultaneously swarming across the continent wrecking local economies and communities by buying up countless properties and behaving with a blatant disregard for local values, all in the name of a good tan and unlimited sangria.

The immigrants who come to Britain on the other hand are (usually) working hard at all the shit jobs we feel are beneath us. They are cleaning our hospitals, emptying our bins, sweeping our streets, even caring for our parents in old people’s homes. They are generally living in all the lovely substandard housing this country has to offer and are keeping our economy alive. Can we really say that our own countries migration patterns are having such a good effect on the local economies? True, we don’t always live in la la liberal land where Mr and Mrs Khan arrive in the street and invite the Smiths down the road over for a chicken bhuna where they bond over Manchester united and the state of youth today. Yes, there are integration problems. But this story has two sides and lets take a look at ourselves for a change, have we as the “Smiths’” made much of an effort with our new neighbours? Have we strove to educate ourselves about their heritage, languages, customs and their genuine beliefs? Have we gone around with a cake and an offer to help them settle into the neighbourhood? And really, as hosts and natives, isn’t this traditionally, sort of like, our duty? After all, aren’t we the ones who after our six month cruise around the world said: “I loved that little village in the mountains, the locals were so welcoming, so friendly. They would have done anything for us.’ Yes, we are happy to take and value other culture’s hospitality, but when it comes to welcoming people here, we are generally renowned for being lazy, antisocial and rude.

In a nutshell: I am sick of the hypocrisy in this country. I’m not saying the Islamic community doesn’t face issues and we don’t have the right to comment, but it is so easy to see the problems in other cultures without even stopping to criticise our own. Maybe, just maybe, we should shoot the pitiful high horse, renounce this fake moral high ground and concentrate on getting our own shit sorted before we point the finger.