From Paris to Greenhills
From Paris to Greenhills
Updated 00:59am (Mla time) Oct 27, 2004
By Michael Tan
Inquirer News Service
Editor's Note: Published on page A15 of the October 27, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer.
TWO series of unfolding events in France and in the Philippines won't make it into front-page headlines but their outcomes can affect the lives of many people, for decades to come.
In France, effective Sept. 2, the government has banned the use of "overt" religious symbols in public schools, including Muslim headscarves for women (“hijab”), Jewish skullcaps and large Christian crosses.
In principle, the French ban is meant to uphold secularism, but it is clear that the move, goaded on by the far right National Front party, is mainly targeting Muslims, with the argument that the headscarves represent Islamic fundamentalism (read terrorism).
Here at home, we also have a small storm brewing in the Greenhills district in San Juan, Metro Manila. I am referring to the opposition by some Greenhills residents and shop owners to the proposal to put up a musallah or Muslim prayer room in their shopping center. A resident told ABS-CBN news that a prayer room would turn Greenhills "into a haven of squatters, robbers and, worse, terrorists," claiming this happened in Quiapo and Taguig after mosques were built there.
Secularism
There is one stark similarity between the ban in French schools and the opposition to a “musallah” in Greenhills: bigotry, mainly targeting the Muslims and invoking the threat of terrorism. But there are differences in the way the prejudice is disguised.
In France, the ban on "overt" religious symbols invokes the principle of secularism, which the French have insisted on since the French Revolution in the 18th century. The Roman Catholic Church had been identified with the oppression of the French aristocracy and so secularism was intended to end the domination of the Catholics over the state. There was, too, the influence of the French enlightenment philosophers Voltaire, Diderot and Montesquieu who saw religion as divisive and intolerant.
The French debates have relevance to Filipinos. We also subscribe to the separation of Church and State. Last year, University of the Philippines president Francisco Nemenzo issued a memo reminding the faculty that the university, as a state institution, needed to remain neutral when it came to religion. Specifically, he pointed out, classes and other official functions were not to start off with a prayer or invocation. The memo came as a result of a law student's complaint that one faculty member had been starting her classes with a Catholic prayer.
I wrote about that memo some months back, expressing my agreement and arguing that it's not just in state universities but in any institution used by the public (for example, hospitals) where we need to maintain secularism, not in opposition to religion but, precisely, as a way of respecting religious freedom and the diversity of faiths.
Having said all this, I would disagree with the French government ban, which is so clearly instigated by a lack of understanding of the so-called religious symbols. First, a headscarf isn't going to stoke the flames of Islamic extremism any more than a large cross on a necklace would fan Catholic fanaticism.
Second, the French ban fails to see that the so-called religious symbols actually transcend faith. The “hijab” isn't just an expression of Islam; in fact, some of those who oppose the “hijab” see it more as a symbol of the oppression of women. Yet, Muslim women themselves will explain that the veils have many meanings, including an expression of one's identity. One Muslim woman anthropologist has even described the “burqa,” which covers the entire body, as "portable seclusion," giving a sense of protection from intrusive eyes, including those of religious conservatives. Underneath the “burqa,” Muslim women have been known to use cosmetics and wear high heels!
It's not surprising the French are now caught in a quagmire because the ban on religious symbols has been interpreted by one school to extend to Sikh turbans. Last week, when one school banned three Sikh boys from using their turbans, the parents brought the case to court. Again, there is a lack of cultural competence here, the inability to see the turbans not just as an expression of the Sikh religion but of a Sikh ethnic identity.
Religious apartheid
The issue then is one of cultural liberty, which the United Nations defines as the ability to practice one's own religion, to speak one's language, to celebrate one's ethnic heritage, "without fear of ridicule or punishment or diminished opportunity."
"Diminished opportunity" are the keywords here. In the Greenhills controversy, some Christians argue that a Muslim prayer room is inappropriate because the area is largely Catholic. But we forget that there are some 400 Muslim traders in the Greenhills Shopping Center. Islam requires prayer five times a day and the Muslims in Greenhills have been doing this in an empty space at the side of a building, a stone's throw away from a large Catholic chapel. A musallah would allow Muslims equal opportunities with Catholics to practice their religion in a more decent, secured space.
This is why I've always argued that the University of the Philippines, despite its secular nature, must provide at least a “musallah” for its Muslim students, simply because we already have Catholic and Protestant churches within the campus.
Of course, the best solution to all this -- whether in Greenhills or on University of the Philippines campuses -- is to have ecumenical rooms or buildings where people of all faiths can worship and reflect. You see such rooms in the world's major airports, a testimony to the multicultural age we live in.
Muslim traders are now found in the country's major urban centers and I've always felt their businesses are a good thing, a chance for Muslims and Christians to interact. I've talked with both Christian and Muslim business people in Greenhills, Quiapo, Baguio and they generally agree they are able to co-exist peacefully.
The absence of a “musallah” in Greenhills will only reinforce the tendency of Muslims to retreat into ghettos, practicing their faith apart from Christians. We are in a sense creating religious apartheid (an Afrikaans/Dutch word that means apart-ness), imposing our own mental “hijab” on our Muslim brothers and sisters and keeping them mysterious, forbidding and threatening.
How do parents in France, and in the Philippines, explain to their children why there is this religious apartheid? At best, the next generation will shrug this off as ignorance. It could be worse though, as religious extremists capitalize on this apartheid to prove how religious minorities are persecuted. The next generation may yet reap a bitter harvest from our intolerance and bigotry.
Updated 00:59am (Mla time) Oct 27, 2004
By Michael Tan
Inquirer News Service
Editor's Note: Published on page A15 of the October 27, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer.
TWO series of unfolding events in France and in the Philippines won't make it into front-page headlines but their outcomes can affect the lives of many people, for decades to come.
In France, effective Sept. 2, the government has banned the use of "overt" religious symbols in public schools, including Muslim headscarves for women (“hijab”), Jewish skullcaps and large Christian crosses.
In principle, the French ban is meant to uphold secularism, but it is clear that the move, goaded on by the far right National Front party, is mainly targeting Muslims, with the argument that the headscarves represent Islamic fundamentalism (read terrorism).
Here at home, we also have a small storm brewing in the Greenhills district in San Juan, Metro Manila. I am referring to the opposition by some Greenhills residents and shop owners to the proposal to put up a musallah or Muslim prayer room in their shopping center. A resident told ABS-CBN news that a prayer room would turn Greenhills "into a haven of squatters, robbers and, worse, terrorists," claiming this happened in Quiapo and Taguig after mosques were built there.
Secularism
There is one stark similarity between the ban in French schools and the opposition to a “musallah” in Greenhills: bigotry, mainly targeting the Muslims and invoking the threat of terrorism. But there are differences in the way the prejudice is disguised.
In France, the ban on "overt" religious symbols invokes the principle of secularism, which the French have insisted on since the French Revolution in the 18th century. The Roman Catholic Church had been identified with the oppression of the French aristocracy and so secularism was intended to end the domination of the Catholics over the state. There was, too, the influence of the French enlightenment philosophers Voltaire, Diderot and Montesquieu who saw religion as divisive and intolerant.
The French debates have relevance to Filipinos. We also subscribe to the separation of Church and State. Last year, University of the Philippines president Francisco Nemenzo issued a memo reminding the faculty that the university, as a state institution, needed to remain neutral when it came to religion. Specifically, he pointed out, classes and other official functions were not to start off with a prayer or invocation. The memo came as a result of a law student's complaint that one faculty member had been starting her classes with a Catholic prayer.
I wrote about that memo some months back, expressing my agreement and arguing that it's not just in state universities but in any institution used by the public (for example, hospitals) where we need to maintain secularism, not in opposition to religion but, precisely, as a way of respecting religious freedom and the diversity of faiths.
Having said all this, I would disagree with the French government ban, which is so clearly instigated by a lack of understanding of the so-called religious symbols. First, a headscarf isn't going to stoke the flames of Islamic extremism any more than a large cross on a necklace would fan Catholic fanaticism.
Second, the French ban fails to see that the so-called religious symbols actually transcend faith. The “hijab” isn't just an expression of Islam; in fact, some of those who oppose the “hijab” see it more as a symbol of the oppression of women. Yet, Muslim women themselves will explain that the veils have many meanings, including an expression of one's identity. One Muslim woman anthropologist has even described the “burqa,” which covers the entire body, as "portable seclusion," giving a sense of protection from intrusive eyes, including those of religious conservatives. Underneath the “burqa,” Muslim women have been known to use cosmetics and wear high heels!
It's not surprising the French are now caught in a quagmire because the ban on religious symbols has been interpreted by one school to extend to Sikh turbans. Last week, when one school banned three Sikh boys from using their turbans, the parents brought the case to court. Again, there is a lack of cultural competence here, the inability to see the turbans not just as an expression of the Sikh religion but of a Sikh ethnic identity.
Religious apartheid
The issue then is one of cultural liberty, which the United Nations defines as the ability to practice one's own religion, to speak one's language, to celebrate one's ethnic heritage, "without fear of ridicule or punishment or diminished opportunity."
"Diminished opportunity" are the keywords here. In the Greenhills controversy, some Christians argue that a Muslim prayer room is inappropriate because the area is largely Catholic. But we forget that there are some 400 Muslim traders in the Greenhills Shopping Center. Islam requires prayer five times a day and the Muslims in Greenhills have been doing this in an empty space at the side of a building, a stone's throw away from a large Catholic chapel. A musallah would allow Muslims equal opportunities with Catholics to practice their religion in a more decent, secured space.
This is why I've always argued that the University of the Philippines, despite its secular nature, must provide at least a “musallah” for its Muslim students, simply because we already have Catholic and Protestant churches within the campus.
Of course, the best solution to all this -- whether in Greenhills or on University of the Philippines campuses -- is to have ecumenical rooms or buildings where people of all faiths can worship and reflect. You see such rooms in the world's major airports, a testimony to the multicultural age we live in.
Muslim traders are now found in the country's major urban centers and I've always felt their businesses are a good thing, a chance for Muslims and Christians to interact. I've talked with both Christian and Muslim business people in Greenhills, Quiapo, Baguio and they generally agree they are able to co-exist peacefully.
The absence of a “musallah” in Greenhills will only reinforce the tendency of Muslims to retreat into ghettos, practicing their faith apart from Christians. We are in a sense creating religious apartheid (an Afrikaans/Dutch word that means apart-ness), imposing our own mental “hijab” on our Muslim brothers and sisters and keeping them mysterious, forbidding and threatening.
How do parents in France, and in the Philippines, explain to their children why there is this religious apartheid? At best, the next generation will shrug this off as ignorance. It could be worse though, as religious extremists capitalize on this apartheid to prove how religious minorities are persecuted. The next generation may yet reap a bitter harvest from our intolerance and bigotry.


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