Burkini ban: Muslim Women Speak [translation]
[original article in French] by Margaux Mazellier [original title: Interdiction du burkini: paroles de musulmanes]
Published on 19–08–2016 on rfi.fr; edited on 24–08–2016 at 15:33
original article: http://www.rfi.fr/hebdo/20160819-france-interdiction-burkini-ils-nous-empechent-vivre-comme-tout-le-monde
[[[[**Translator’s note: Please note that this is an unauthorised translation by me, Nine Yamamoto-Masson (a professional translator, academic and activist), done on my own initiative, in order to give more reach to the words of Muslim women in France speaking on this issue. This is a text by someone else [see above], not me. I do not mean to infringe on copyright or intellectual property and will take this down should the author / the women quoted / rfi.fr object to this translation.]
The controversy around the burkini, this women’s swimsuit that offers almost entire body coverage, keeps on growing. Some Muslim women say they are tired of this debate and angry about what they see as yet another unnecessary controversy and stigmatisation of their community.
After Cannes, several cities in France have followed suit and issued a decree banning wearing the burkini on their beaches, arguing that, in the current climate, this garment is an overly “ostentatious” expression of religious affiliation and was “bound to create risk disturbing public order “ (“de nature à créer des risques de troubles à l’ordre public”, Cannes municipal decree of July 28th, 2016).
This controversy was quickly seized by the political class, and notably, by the government. On Monday, August 15th, Laurence Rossignol, the Minister of Family, Childhood and Women’s Rights, said on Europe 1 [**French radio channel] that the burkini, which she considers to be “the beach version of the burqa” serves a “deeply archaic view of the place of women in society “, and, in keeping with the same logic, serves to “shut away and hide women in order to better control them.” On Wednesday, August 17th, it was the turn of Prime Minister Manuel Valls to invite himself to the debate: “I do not accept this archaic vision. It is linked to the idea that, by nature, women are immodest, impure, that they thus should be completely covered up.”
Muslim women’s anger
Muslim women, French and non-French, have turned to social media to express their anger at the controversy they consider “unnecessary” and “stigmatising”.
Asma Fares, a young beauty vlogger who wears the hijab and has over 170 000 subscribers has used her youtube channel to share “a big rant” (“pousser un gros coup de gueule.”) “Don’t touch my burkini” (“Touche pas à mon burkini”) she demands, protesting the cancellation by local authorities of a “burkini day” organised by the non-profit SMILE13 that was to be held in early September in the aquatics centre Speed Water, located in Bouches-du-Rhône in Southern France, which was privatised for the occasion. The burkini day was, she said, “an opportunity for women who wear the hijab to swim and bathe as they wish.”
The controversy, launched by elected representatives from the right and extreme right, got the better of the burkini day, the cancellation of which was decided by the mayor of the municipality in question, Pennes-Mirabeau near Marseille. The director of the water park and the mayor justified the ban in a statement, saying they did not want “to be the setting for a disturbance of the public order” — a reasoning that leaves Asma Fares speechless: “What is the relationship between terrorism and a day of hijabi women having fun at a water park with their children? You don’t go to the water park to pray, to discuss the Koran or issue fatwas. You just go to have fun. “ On August 3rd, an online petition was launched calling to keep the “burkini day.” As of Thursday August 18th, it already had over 3800 signatures.
A simple provocation?
On August 16th, Jean Christophe Ploquin, editor of La Croix [French Catholic daily print and web publication], wrote of the burkini that “joins the ranks of clothing accessories that are worn like militant discourse, a language of resistance, of self-affirmation”. Could wearing the burkini be considered an act of provocation by the Muslim community? A simple affirmation of identity?
This is certainly what some Muslim women think, like Nadia from Nîmes [city in the south of France], who wears the all-body swimsuit, when asked by the regional daily Midi Libre: “The burkini is religious, it bothers me — you can’t practice Islam in France as you would in a so-called Muslim country.” 24-year-old Amira’s opinion however is completely different: she thinks that the controversy is unwarranted. For this young human resources officer who does not wear the hijab and wears “regular” swimming garments, banning burkini factually equates forbidding hijabi veiled women to bathe publicly: “This is the only appropriate outfit for them. A non-hijabi wearing a bikini, a hijabi person wearing a burkini, it’s not a problem at all if everyone is willing to remain open-minded!”.
Loubna, a 24-year-old French-born Tunisian, agrees. This student of oriental languages who now lives in Paris has been wearing the hijab for thirteen years, but says that she is against the burqa and niqab. When she is “back home” the young woman wears the Burkini, but here [in France], she says, it’s “more complicated”. Still, she recently asked a relative to send her one from Tunisia.
Despite the controversy, Loubna sticks to her decision and says that the provocation does not come from her, but from the French authorities that deprive her of her liberties. “I do not see why I shouldn’t wear a burkini in France. It doesn’t hurt anyone and it allows me to go to the beach. By forbidding us to wear it, they are preventing us from living like everyone else.”
Esma, a 32-year-old French woman who used to wear the Muslim swimsuit when she was living in Tunisia, prefers not to wear it in France, “I deprive myself of swimming with my children to protect them. I do not want my daughters to have to witness scenes of racism against me.” Many times the young mother, who is a former project manager and has a B.A. in law, has had to endure Islamophobic remarks in the presence of her three young children: “I was told ‘what happened on November 13th is because of you” or “We’re not in the wilderness here” [translator’s note: “bougnoulie” slang term historically used to designate Algeria with very condescending and racist connotations, first developed by French soldiers in algeria in the 1940s]. My children should not have to hear these things.” Racism has been exacerbated by the recent wave of attacks, according to Faryal, a 28-year-old psychology student who has been wearing the veil for eight years: “There is more distrust vis-à-vis the Muslim community now. [As a Muslim,] you have to justify yourself even more than usual.”
A garment that’s far from Islamic criteria
“The burkini is also a fashion accessory,” Faryal points out. This garment, whose name is a contraction of the words “burqa” and “bikini”, was designed in 2004 by Aheda Zanetti, an Australian designer of Lebanese descent, who wanted to create a sportswear for Muslim women appropriate for religious modesty — a concept more marketing-oriented than driven by religion, and a misleading term, since unlike the burqa, the women’s garment that that covers the entire body and face of the woman and has become symbolic of radical Islamism, the burkini leaves face, hands and feet uncovered.
This makes it a garment that can hardly be accused of being a Salafist symbol: “The most religious men do not want women to wear burkinis. It’s too tight and above all it makes life easier for Muslim women because it allows them to swim and have fun,” Loubna says, irritated. This, this garment hardly meets the requirements of 20th century jihadists.
Like most of her friends, Faryal does not wear the burkini. “It’s too tight for my taste. And it does not seem very convenient to swim in! “. When she goes to the seaside, she prefers to stay on the beach or bathe fully clothed. However, the young student is outraged by the controversy and supports, in the name of French secularism, her friends who have made the opposite choice: “What they call ‘burkini’ is just a variation of the everyday hijab, but for the beach! I don’t understand what the problem is.” For Loubna, the solution is simple: “We need to respect each other. On the beach there are people who are completely naked, while I prefer to be covered. I don’t bother anybody, nobody bothers me. That’s freedom, isn’t it?”
All three are upset to once more have to witness Muslim women being placed at the heart of a controversy that Faryal judges “unnecessary”: “Politicians talk about this in order to overshadow other more important issues that will come up at the end of the school summer break”. Esma too believes that the political class picked the wrong fight. “Today, in France, despite all the economic and social problems, they put more effort into bullying minority citizens that to satisfy all citizens.”
