The Persian Princess
Most people's first question is, "Do you have to wear a veil in Iran?" Almost apologeticly, I have to answer yes.
The veil has always been used as a symbol, often oversimplified, often stereotypical, always polemical. It has long been the most effective tool for propagating the image of female repression in Muslim societies. But the veil has to be understood, firstly, in order to be criticized.
Veiling is a long-standing tradition in Iran, first challenged in 1936 when Reza Shah Pahlavi banned it. This step was much more brutal that today's imposed veil - forcing people to take clothes off is a much greater invasion of privacy than forcing them to put clothes on - from which today's laws may have stemmed.
In Iran today, dress codes force men to cover their arms and legs, and women to cover their bodies and hair. For religious women, this is a spiritual edict, hence their veil, chador, is an all-encompassing black garment which covers all, on rare occasions the face. For others, such as myself, this is simply the law of the land, so I wear a long coat, manteau, and a headscarf, rou-sari (literally, "on the head").
In theory, the central role of the veil is to delineate boundaries between the private and the public. It regulates gender relations to some extent but relates to laws of privacy, mutual respect and honour rather than femininity.
In practice however, the veil is something you have to wear, and so it can feel like an unnecessary confinement, but given the choice, I wouldn't be caught - as I indeed would be - walking down the street in Tehran today without it.
Sat here in a café, I wonder why I didn't choose the comfort of my own home, where I needn't cover up in the name of decency. Perhaps it is because of my love of cafes, but it may be because the veil is a sort of liberation: increasingly perceived as such by progressive feminists, through the realization that wearing a veil gives access to areas where previously, women weren't admitted. Indeed, women work-providing some of Iran's most competitive doctors, lawyers, teachers, and poets. Yes, women can drive. Yes, women can go to university. No, they aren't necessarily housewives and mothers.
That which arose from women's revolts from the early 20th century onwards attempted to subjugate them, giving some truth to the archetpal images of repressed women in black. Yet, these images do not constitute the epitome of Persian womanhood. Many veils aren't black. There is a large amount of colours, matching headscarf with bag, indeed a veil fashion.
Anonymity is a useful trait. Blending into the crowd is safe. Blotting out identities through imposing a formal dress code may be an official aim, but anonymity is a choice. Swaning around in a bright red roupoush, your Princess is definitely not alone in wanting to be an individual and to make her mark.
17th Oct 2002