Growing up I had to avoid physical activity and I couldn’t play sports. I had eczema and any exertion caused a painful flare-up.
But at university I decided to try to break this cycle and signed up for various sports courses. Starting with badminton and archery, I gradually found myself connecting more and more closely to my body, learning to listen to it and take care of it. Finally, I got up the courage to consider a contact sport. I wanted to train in English boxing, but when I tried to sign up, the coach rejected me. The reason: my turban.
I never made it to the ring, but I was still involved in a fight: a fight for my rights as a woman and as a Muslim, to be fully recognized as human and to be free from discrimination.
I wear the turban for reasons that should concern no one but me. The turban and other types of headgear such as the “scarf” or the “hijab” are always part of my sports clothing and are fully in line with hygiene and safety regulations.
I thought that maybe taking up another sport would solve the problem, but that wasn’t the case. I joined a volleyball club and applied to participate in amateur competitions. But immediately after filling out the forms, the coach took me aside and informed me that the referee had told her that I could train but that I could not join the team or participate in the matches due to the statute of the French Volleyball Federation ( FFVB).
The justification I was given was false. The FFVB’s decision to ban the use of “religious symbols”, including the headscarf, only came into force in September this year, after I applied to participate in amateur competitions.
“Laicité,” or “secularism,” which is theoretically incorporated into the French constitution to protect everyone’s religious freedom, has often been used as a pretext to block Muslim women’s access to public spaces in France. For several years, French authorities have enacted laws and policies to regulate the clothing of Muslim women and girls. Sports federations followed suit, imposing hijab bans in several sports, including football, basketball and volleyball, at both professional and amateur levels.
Motivated by gender bias, racism, and Islamophobia, such norms effectively control Muslim women’s choices and bodies. In schools, beaches, swimming pools and other public spaces we are not allowed to dress in a way we feel comfortable.
I know from personal experience how devastating the consequences of these exclusionary and discriminatory bans can be. They can cause a feeling of profound humiliation and trauma and lead women and girls to abandon sport or other activities they love, to be subjected to harmful discriminatory treatment and to experience devastating impacts on their mental and physical health.
Due to the hijab ban I was forced to take a break from volleyball. I felt profoundly rejected, treated like a being without a soul, without a heart, without rights. For me, sport is an intimate physical activity and is closely linked to my physical and mental well-being. I miss him every day.
In the summer, the hypocrisy of France’s hijab ban attracted global attention during the Paris Olympics. The fact that French female athletes who wear headscarves were not allowed to compete at the Olympic Games has exposed the racist gender discrimination that underpins access to sport in France. It has brought such unjust rules under greater public scrutiny.
An Amnesty International report published before the Olympic Games made clear that, under international law, “secularism” is not a legitimate reason for imposing restrictions on the rights to freedom of expression and freedom of religion or belief.
The French bans on religious sports headdresses contradict the clothing rules of international sports bodies such as FIFA (the International Federation of Association Football), FIBA (the International Basketball Federation) and FIVB (the International Volleyball Federation ). In its research, Amnesty International examined regulations in 38 European countries and found that France is the only one to have imposed bans on religious headgear.
In October, UN experts condemned these bans as “disproportionate and discriminatory” and called for them to be revoked. In a statement delivered to the UN Human Rights Council, the UN special rapporteur on cultural rights said the bans violate the rights of Muslim women and girls in France “to freely express their identity, religion or belief in private and in public, and participate in cultural life”. United Nations experts have made an unequivocal appeal to France to “take all measures at its disposal to protect it [Muslim women and girls]safeguard their rights and promote equality and mutual respect for cultural diversity”.
Despite such calls and growing national and international protest, two bills aimed at banning the hijab in all sports were presented to the French Parliament last year.
I, along with many others, will oppose these outrageous proposals and continue our fight to overturn existing bans.
I remain confident. I firmly believe that we can unite to defend our rights. Organizations such as Amnesty International, the Collective against Islamophobia in Europe and Lallab, the feminist and anti-racist association of which I am a member, should be listened to and supported in tackling this gendered Islamophobia.
I also want to thank collectives working on inclusivity in sport such as Hijabeuses, Sport Pour Toutes and Basket Pour Toutes and sincerely thank them for their courage and courage. This is not a political or religious fight, but a fight focused on our human right to participate in sport. While we are affected by the violence and oppression we suffer, together we create spaces of struggle, care and solidarity to combat this blatant discrimination.
The author’s last name has not been published due to concerns about her privacy and safety.
The opinions expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial position of Oltre La Linea.
