By Thomas Fuller International Herald Tribune
Visitors to Malaysia are often surprised to learn that the custom of wearing headscarves — almost universally adhered to by Muslim women in the country today — barely existed 30 years ago.
It is considered a paradox, rightly or wrongly, that as Malaysia modernized and built skyscrapers, women covered their heads in increasing numbers.
In a world where a country`s modernity is sometimes judged by the prevalence of blue jeans and T-shirts, the headscarf has remained, at least in Western eyes, in the realm of the traditional.
Yet today, in every corner of this relatively affluent and modern country, Muslim women wear the bright and lively outfits that are a Malaysian trademark. Businesswomen wear scarves to work and so do their secretaries.
The headscarf itself is usually just a simple square piece of cloth clasped at the neck with a brooch or crossed over the shoulders like a shawl. Humble as that may sound, the scarf carries strong social messages. It is at once a barometer of Islamic awareness, a political lightning rod and a fashion accessory.
"Women want to cover up," says Eric Tho, a Malaysian designer of batik clothing and scarves, "but they want to do it fashionably."
For some, this is ironic: the headscarf, meant to be a symbol of modesty, is also designed to catch your eye. Unlike the plain varieties worn in the Middle East, headscarves in Malaysia are often as colorful as the outfits they complement.
When Malaysians talk about the pre-headscarf days, they often refer to one of the country`s best-known film icons, Saloma. An actress from the glory days of Malay cinema in the 1950s, Saloma represented a generation of women searching for a Malaysian identity in the decade after independence in 1947.
Her outfits were a silky mix of Western and traditional Malay — her kebaya, or long jacket, always snug enough to show her shapely figure. She wore her hair in a bob or, when it was longer, pinned up.
More common among Malays on the streets of Kuala Lumpur today is the baju kurung, a long and loose dress, whose only Western equivalent might be the nightshirt.
The transition to this more conservative dress came in the late 1970s, a shift closely linked to the sweeping social changes that took place in Malaysia at the time.
As the economy grew and the country modernized, cities mushroomed and Malays from rural villages moved to the sprouting urban centers. The result was perhaps a sense of rootlessness — and a need for Malays to assert their cultural and religious identity.
Khoo Kay Kim, a Malaysian historian and an expert on Malay culture, reckons higher levels of education that accompanied urban living created a newfound awareness of Islamic culture and that this became a decisive factor in women choosing to cover their heads.
"With education, people tended to become more conservative," Mr. Khoo said. "Through education they learned a great deal about the past, about their traditions and civilization. And there was a tendency to try and revive that."
Ironically, headscarves were never really a strong part of Malay traditions. But through Islam, Malays looked toward other Muslim countries for ideas and inspiration. Many were influenced by the 1979 revolution in Iran, especially students who were sent by the government to universities in Arab countries.
The sartorial change of the 1970s had broader social consequences than just covering one`s head. In some ways it served to segregate — at least in terms of appearance — Malaysia`s multiethnic population. Malays, who make up more than half of the population, were now easily distinguishable from their Chinese and Indian countrywomen.
At the same time, Malay culture became more conservative. Drinking and gambling became official taboos — but often continued in private. Laws prohibiting "close proximity" between unmarried women and men began to be enforced. The lively nightlife that Saloma and her fellow actors and actresses enjoyed in the 1950s slowly disappeared, or went underground.
But it would be wrong to say that headscarves did not exist in Malaysia before the 1970s. Various types have existed for generations, bearing, however, little resemblance to the scarves of today and often used during formal ceremonies.
SHARIFAH Kirana, a Malaysian fashion designer who caters to the country`s elite, uses scarves worn by her grandmother for inspiration in her designs. Made of ultra-light materials such as Swiss voile, they contrast with today`s scarves, which are often designed to hide the hair completely.
"My grandmother didn`t wear it for religious reasons," Sharifah says. "It was more for protection from the sun." Today`s scarves range from a loose shawl called a selendang, favored by the prime minister`s wife, to the minitelekung, a longer scarf that clasps below the chin and covers the chest, worn mostly by more conservative Muslims and available almost exclusively in plain and dark colors.
Many conservative-leaning women also wear an anak tudung underneath their scarves, an elastic accessory that helps keep their hair in place.
And some regard the headscarf simply as fashion.
"My customers use them as an accessory to match their outfit," says Rizalman Ibrahim, a designer who several years ago made the scarf that the Sultan of Brunei`s daughter wore to her wedding. "If they`re wearing an outfit full of different colors, they want a plain tudung to go with it," he added, using the Malay word for headscarf.
Tho, the batik designer, adds: "It`s not just a plain cloth over your head any more. Customers take pains to match their tudung. It`s a fashion accessory." Like any other accessory, headscarf fashions come and go.
Yani Bakhtiar, an Indonesian-born designer who runs a popular shop in Kuala Lumpur, reckons headscarf fashions change on average every three years.
These days light, patterned scarves from Turkey sell well. Next year`s fashion, she believes, will be plain-colored, embroidered scarves.
When asked, women cite a variety of reasons for wearing headscarves. Mrs. Yani speaks of protection from the sun and the pollution of the city. "I can return home, take off my scarf, and feel very fresh and clean," she says. "My husband likes that." Men play a large role in a woman`s decision to wear a scarf. "If your husband says you must wear it, than you must," says Zakiah Alwi, who owns a boutique in central Kuala Lumpur that sells scarves.
THOMAS FULLER is a correspondent for the International Herald Tribune based in Kuala Lumpur.
Source: http://www.iht.com
