MUSLIM IDENTITY IN CONTEMPORARY INDIA

Since its very inception, the Constitution of India has shown a secular philosophy. Article 25 protects the individual’s freedom of religion and conscience, subject to morality, health, public order and other people’s fundamental rights. This is followed by Article 26, which protects the rights of religious denominations to manage their own affairs, subject to the aforementioned reasonable restrictions. Extending its hands into determining the relationship between state, religion and constitution, the Supreme Court in The Commissioner, Hindu Religious Endowment, Madras v. Sri Lakshmindra Thirtha Swamiar of Sri Shirur Mutt's case¹ formulated the essential religious practice test, observing that freedom of religion in the Constitution is not limited to religious beliefs only, but rather extends to religious practices and subjected to the restrictions laid down in the Constitution. The Court often oscillates between the regulation of essentiality determined through religious texts and manuscripts and intervenes as a social reformer and takes upon the responsibility to determine what is essential to a religion. The drawback of this is that the Court, instead of deciding what practice can be restrained under the Constitution, leaps onto what is religious and what is essential. This violates the subjectivity and self-determination of a religious community.

The recent communal violence in Nuh district and Gurgaon, Haryana, signifies a noteworthy change in its nature and impact on Indian politics. Rooted in identity competition within a polarised political landscape, this violence emerges from economic disparities in the Nuh region. The Muslim minority bears a disproportionate brunt, reflecting historical trends. A recent court remark labelling state actions demolitions in the Mewat area as "ethnic cleansing" underscores the ideological motive.

Last year, school girls in Karnataka who wore a headscarf with their uniform were largely denied entry into their classrooms. The administrative oppression rippled across Karnataka, making the state government ban all religious attire inside classrooms. Petitions filed in the High Court called this a gross violation of Articles 14, 19 and 25. The matter was not whether a headscarf is a part of the uniform, but whether girls should be allowed to wear so, fearing disruption of equality and uniformity within classrooms, something that did not come up until the then state elections. The Supreme Court held a split verdict regarding the issue. The Karnataka High Court had upheld the ban, asserting that it was necessary for unity, equality, and public order. Justice Gupta supported this view, arguing that uniforms were a unifying force, promoting equality and discipline. He believed that introducing religious symbols into a secular educational environment could undermine these principles. However, Justice Dhulia challenged this perspective, advocating for a more empathetic and inclusive approach. He believed that banning the hijab infringed upon individual rights if it caused no harm to others. He stressed that a girl's right to education shouldn't be compromised by her desire to wear a hijab, which could be an essential expression of her beliefs and a means to gain education within a conservative family. He passionately argued that allowing reasonable accommodation for religious practices was a sign of a mature society, emphasising diversity and understanding.

The clash of opinions between the judges reflected a broader societal debate about balancing religious freedom, individual rights, and the need for a uniform educational environment. Justice Dhulia emphasised the importance of nurturing a culture of tolerance and respect for diversity within educational institutions, while Justice Gupta highlighted the role of discipline and uniformity in maintaining a secular education system. This split decision showcased the complexity of the issue, leaving the final verdict uncertain.

The Holy Quran was revealed 1450 years ago, and so the divine source of law has been interpreted and perceived by the people in a way that protects their interests. God in the Holy Quran, right after ordering a hijab for men, in Chapter 24, verse 31 says that:-

“And tell the believing women that they must lower their gazes and guard their private parts, and must not expose their adornment, except that which appears thereof, and must wrap their bosoms with their shawls, and must not expose their adornment,...”

The arabic word for ‘shawls’ here is ِﺑُﺨُﻤِﺮِھﻦ - bi-khu-mur-ihi-na which is the plural of khimar which means ‘headscarf’. The command of God here is to extend the khimar down to the chests ,which as a whole mandates the external covering of hair, and chest in Islam upon women.

In Chapter 33 verse 59 where an obligation is posed on the wives and daughters of the prophet(pbuh):-

“O Prophet, tell your wives and your daughters and the women of the believers to bringdown over themselves [part] of their outer garments. That is more suitable that they will be known and not be abused. And ever is Allah Forgiving and Merciful.”

The word used here for an outer garment is Jilbab that is much wider than the khimar (or headscarf). It is used to wear over the khimar and other garments a woman wears underneath. The word ‘hijab’ is derived from the word ‘hajaba’ which literally means to conceal or hide or cover. Both the words - khimar and jilbab means hijab as the purpose of both is to cover.

The argument of oppression arises from Muslim women being forced to observe hijab. Some families religiously inculcate patriarchy and dominance on women to minuscule them into puppets of modesty. A piece of cloth may not contribute towards placing a woman in a hierarchy of piety, but the choice she makes of an external covering, be it for the mere reason of following the command of God or to practice freedom in a sense that provides her the sheer power to choose what others see of her - either way, that right to choice must be protected.

Muslim women bear the brunt of being identifiable and discriminated against when wearing ajilbab or khimar. However, this discrimination must not just be recognised on the basis of religion but rather on the grounds of gender and ethnicity too. Because the headscarf is commonly regarded as symbolising Islam's oppression of women, it is deemed incompatible with the preservation of women's rights. Societal norms and legal frameworks shape the diverse landscape of moral values. Yet, the decision to openly express one's Muslim identity becomes a complex choice, entangled with hardships and unwarranted labels. This unfolds in societies that pride themselves on embracing diversity and cultures.

Intersectional discrimination unveils a complex web of disadvantages gripping those carrying multiple protected identities. Consider Muslim women adorned with the headscarf – they epitomise a cohort entangled in this intricate bias. Their predicament doesn't merely revolve around religious assertion; it's entwined with the confluence of gender and ethnicity. The twist? As these women embrace the headscarf, they grapple not only with religious marginalisation but also the intensified gender disparities catalysed by their ethnic heritage. Yet, the heart of the issue remains veiled. The fusion of gender prejudice and headscarf-centric bias shrouds itself, often operating under the radar. The dance of intersectionality unfurls these concealed layers of bias, an enigmatic interplay between identity, culture, and societal perspectives.

Muslims in contemporary India have to, time and again, show their nationality by negating their own identity. The frequent incidences of mob lynching, political scapegoating of Muslims, and mainstream media endorsement of anti-Muslim sentiment have heightened public concerns about 'secular need' and ‘religious menace,' forcing Muslims to choose between the two characterisations. The government and its followers are steering India towards disgracing Muslim secularism in educational institutions and/or being forced to abandon hijab for integration. With the adoption of Muslim women's narratives, the meaning of hijab shifted from subjugation to menace. Muslim protests against discrimination and atrocities against Muslims has undoubtedly riled the ‘saviours’. On the one hand, their outrage in an attempt to ‘rescue’ Muslim women from ‘Islamic tyranny’ and serve as our ‘mouthpiece’ reflects their sensitivity to the majoritarian Hindutva cultural ideology that they must impose on Muslims. Palpable discrimination against Muslim women, which includes denying their very right to education, is considered legitimate and unarbitrary. For decades, Muslim women have been perceived as individuals incapable of developing their own consciousness and politics. They are viewed as powerless and oppressed.

They are repeatedly forced to choose between assimilation and elimination. Anything that proclaims 'Muslimness’ is deemed excessive, damaging, and incompatible with Indian national identity.

When an ordinary Muslim seeks justice, his last resort often becomes the judiciary. Yet, the Supreme Court's intervention remains questionable. Whether it's responding to calls for genocide, addressing communal conflicts, protecting girls harassed for wearing hijabs or ensuring equal access to education, the court's stance remains unclear. What is evident is the court's lack of acknowledgement regarding the profound challenges faced by the world's second-largest religious community in the largest democracy.

When the state places a priority on compelling Muslim students to shed their identity under the guise of uniformity and equality, even at the cost of their education, a palpable sense of exclusion takes root. In such a scenario, democratic principles seem to wane. The duty falls upon the Court to shield citizen’s fundamental rights from overbearing state actions. Among these cherished rights, the freedom of thought, conscience, and religion stand as paramount. A prohibition on the personal choice to don a particular piece of attire directly encroaches upon these invaluable liberties. Evidently, the government's intentions seem geared towards homogenisation, potentially disregarding diversity, all in the name of political expediency. Religious protections need to become a reality for every single Muslim regardless of whether the belief he or she professes is popular. To allow otherwise will destroy religious freedom for all faiths, not just the Indian Muslim minority.

Footnotes: -

1. 1954 AIR 282