On the everlasting gobstopper that is the hijab issue, I have just three questions: What are we arguing? For whom? And why?

The choice to don a hijab is deeply personal. It’s an individual’s choice. For a country that boasts racial diversity and harmony, caveating that choice is hypocritical – except maybe under a few circumstances.

The public and the state’s tussle with this issue is cyclical at best. Every few years, someone or something happens to remind us of the dust swept under our carpets. The first time it surfaced, at least to the best of my memory, was in 2002 when four Muslim children were suspended from school because they were in hijab. Then again in 2013 when a polytechnic lecturer asked in a forum why nurses weren’t allowed to wear the hijab.

DEBATE IN THE PARLIAMENT
A few months ago when Member of Parliament (MP) Faisal Manap raised the issue of hijab in the parliament, it revived in Singapore the decade-long debate.

During a discussion on women’s aspiration, he asked for the okaying of hijab on Muslim front-line officers. Front-line roles refer to those requiring daily contact with other Singaporeans. The ban is enforced on public servants, though it is not consistent. For example, my primary school English teacher wore a hijab, but a nurse can’t. As for private companies, enforcement is left to their discretion.

Minister Masagos Zulkifli from across the aisle chastised MP Faisal for sowing discord. Later that day, Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong joined the chorus. He said championing divisive issues publicly, to pressure the government and win communal votes, will only stir up emotions and damage Singapore’s multi-racial harmony. That has always been the government’s go-to response when the issue of hijab pops up. Overuse has reduced the words “balance” and “social harmony” to nothing more than a party hack for glazing over this sticky subject. As a journalist, I’m used to stock answers from the government. Though not surprising, it doesn’t get any less frustrating.

What furrowed my brows was Minister Masagos’ misdirection after that: “There are other ways to raise these sensitive issues, such as engaging people quietly behind the scenes.” What happened here wasn’t just a perfunctory dismissal. It was a deliberate act to distract from MP Faisal’s point: can Muslim front-line officers be in hijab? But Minister Masagos’ reply moved the needle with the dexterity of Houdini.

So, okay. Let’s be distracted for a bit and talk about that. Minister Masagos supports closed-doors discussion but MP Faisal advocates an open conversation between the state and the public. The problem with closed-doors discussion is that you’re shutting out voices of the ones most invested in this debate: Muslim women.

Two years ago, a petition surfaced in Singapore on change.org. It asked for allowing the hijab in our workforce, specifically in uniformed and front-line occupations. Thousands of Muslim women signed it. But it was ultimately dismissed by the government, saying the petition flirted with the strategy of “astro-turfing,” a campaign disguised as unsolicited comments from the public. The person who initiated the campaign has not identified him or herself so there’s no way to validate the response.

But in the same vein, we should have a discussion with the community. Then we can begin to answer MP Faisal’s real question: are we as a society ready for Muslim front-line officers to don the hijab?

PRIVATE VS PUBLIC POLICIES
For uniformed professions, my views are fuzzy. Though I believe the state should not deny a Muslim woman her dream of becoming a nurse or a police officer because of the hijab, arguments have been made for safety or hygiene.

In 2016, a consultant anaesthetist in London’s National Health Service (NHS) was suspended for insisting a Muslim surgeon remove her hijab. He was reinstated after investigation showed he was simply enforcing the hospital’s strict codes to minimise infection.

Can extra yards of cloth increase chances of cross contamination or hinder police investigation? I’ve asked friends both in the hospital and the police force. The answer’s inconclusive, hence the fuzzy views.

My vision is 20/20, however, when it comes to protecting job seekers in private spheres. I believe in equal chances.

Private companies should not have the power to discriminate based on outfit unless there’s just cause. Going against “company policy” or “company image” is not just cause. Hyperbole notwithstanding, insisting on wearing a swimsuit to work is just cause.

We’re a multicultural nation. Just look at the posters along our pristine Singapore streets. Any image or policy of a private company operating on our soil should reflect that. As long as the hijab does not infringe on safety or hygiene, the ban should not hold water.

In 2016, I stumbled on a Facebook post by 24-year-old Sharifah Begum. It was the post that encouraged me to research deeper into the contentious issue of hijab in Singapore.

According to Sharifah, she had trouble landing jobs because interviewers had problems with her hijab.

“The usual reason [I get] would be that it’s against company policies,” she told me. I contacted her after reading her post. Again, that’s a standard boilerplate reply from private companies.

In February of that year, Sharifah interviewed at a private preschool. She was applying for the assistant administrator role, a position that would invariably put her on the front-line. According to Sharifah, the interview was going well until she was asked if she could wear a bandana instead of a hijab.

“I asked what the reason was, and [the interviewer] said they have had many incidents where parents (were) afraid to hand over kids to staff wearing hijab. She said kids get frightened themselves, too,” said Sharifah.

Despite the insensitivity, I found the reply to be a breath of fresh air. It wasn’t suffocated by political correctness. It was real. And real is what we need to begin correcting the misinformation about what the hijab means and what it represents.

Why were parents from the preschool afraid to hand over their kids? My guess is their inadvertent association of hijab with Islamic extremism, born from the rise in global terror activities. Any other reasons make little sense.

BREAKING DOWN WALLS
I was born and raised in Singapore. I grew up learning not just about my own culture, but the culture of my Malay friends, neighbours, and colleagues. While I may not fully understand what the hijab represents, I’ve never been afraid of it. It’s as much a part of their culture as it is a part of mine. I can’t speak for every Singaporean Chinese, but I hope my words represent a majority.

That’s another issue altogether. But I believe lifting or amending the ban on the hijab will send a much kinder message to the concerned but misinformed public.

I understand that this issue, like all controversial ones, is difficult to handle. It deals in abstract currencies like freedom, choice, and identity. Those words have built and brought down empires much bigger than our island.

If the government continues to skirt the issue, we would never truly move forward. Though, I am proud to say that in a race of racial progress, Singapore is lightyears ahead of our friends in the west. A rising global concern we see in the media is how the hijab represents oppression, submission, and a threat to women’s rights. Here, it represents freedom.

But to continue progressing, we have to stop avoiding and start talking with the public on both sides of the fence, and not behind closed doors. Contrary to what the state might think, it wouldn’t be our final hour.

It could very well be our finest. ⬛

Derek Cai is a journalist by trade, and works on general assignments and international news in Singapore. He has a special interest in human rights and international relations coverage, and enjoys political debates with a side of fries.