The world is penned and painted by our personal beliefs. Because organized religion is an institution that is defined by its concern for the preservation of beliefs, it should be uniquely capable of capturing and confining our worlds. In fact, one of the most unusual components of religion is the extent to which it can shape the everyday actions of devotees. Although we are loathe to admit that our own actions are heavily influenced by our own religious perspective, we are quite apt at pointing out those rituals peculiar to other belief systems.

A poignant example of this is the Muslim headscarf, which is probably the most visible manifestation of mainstream religious devotion in the modern world. Although it evokes a variety of reactions from non-Muslims, one of the most common is curiosity. Why do Muslim women wear it? Why not Muslim men? Is it required for being a Muslim or is it just a tradition specific to certain Islamic cultures?

The answers to these questions are certainly not universal. Not only do non-Muslims have completely different views on this tradition, Muslims themselves provide many different justifications for this practice. In my experience, these explanations have fallen along certain lines of reasoning that have very different consequences for how I personally interpret the tradition.

The theological explanation revolves around the interpretation of scripture, either in the Quran itself or through Hadith (a collection of descriptions of the life and practices of Muhammad). The justifications for each kind of covering come from a number of different sources, as do the justifications for abandoning covers all together. The relevant passage refers to the command to maintain hijab, which translates literally to “cover” but more accurately refers to modesty. This is the origin of the Western use of the word hijab to describe all forms of female head coverings.

To this explanation I cannot say much. As with most justifications from scripture, it is possible to make an ancient text say many different things. Although this reasoning will be brandished in debates, it does not seem to be the justification most Muslims refer to.

A more common explanation is the hijab as an act of devotion. In secularized countries like Turkey and France it has become a function of social justice to don the headscarf and say boldly, “I am Muslim.” To me, this is beautiful. I find the expression of religious devotion in the face of oppressive, anti-religious societies to be one of the most courageous vocations a person can aspire to.

However, a third explanation exists that finds its basis both in popular psychology as well as scripture. Women are to cover their heads so that they do not tempt men to thoughts of fornication. At first blush this seems innocuous and practical: Men have a hard time concentrating around women. True. What this means for me, however, is the subjection of women. Why does the burden lie with the women? Shouldn’t men be responsible for male urges? Some argue that men have other burdens, like respecting women and providing for them. However, in many cases the choice is never given. It is a function of God’s creation that men have urges, and women must restrict them. And interpretation is not up to you.

I find the idea that Muslim women hold this viewpoint very ugly. Like many oppressive teachings, its nature is hidden behind common sense and social norms. The contrast between this justification and the hijab as a badge of honor is night and day. Although the lack of choice is revealing as to the nature of the head scarf, what makes this practice something admirable or something despicable is the intention of the wearer. If a Muslim woman believes that it is her responsibility to prevent a man’s sexual urges, then I believe her community has failed her.