Calls by politicians to ban the niqab or burqa have become commonplace. Muslim women who cover themselves using face veils, though relatively small in number, have managed to become front-page news in many jurisdictions and have regularly captured the global imagination. French President Nicolas Sarkozy stated in front of parliamentarians that the burqa is not welcome in France. Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper said that the niqab was “anti-women” and that it was “offensive that someone would hide their identity” ; “[it's] not the way we do things here.” The Australian Prime Minister stated that he found the burqa “a fairly confronting form of attire and frankly I wish it weren ‘ t worn.” In the United States, Germany and Canada, Muslim women have asked courts to recognize their right to wear the niqab in a variety of contexts. The niqab has been criminalized nationally in eight countries (France, Belgium, Bulgaria, Austria, Denmark, the Netherlands, Chad and the Congo), with partial or regional bans in Canada, Italy, Switzerland, Germany, Spain, Egypt, Syria, China, Cameroon, Niger and Algeria.

This chapter builds on work already written about Muslim women who wear some sort of face veil and the ongoing agitation that has been expressed about them. I have argued elsewhere that the depth of discomfort evoked by these women and their outward markers of religiosity have resulted in a wide range of mostly specious rationalizations as to why these items of clothing must be banned. Logic appears not to be a measure used when managing issues involving women who cover their faces. Rather, one sees a predisposition, often unstated, toward linking such modest clothing to radical and violent interpretations of Islam. Where such explanation is implausible, a strident dislike of the niqab manifested as an affront to national values is articulated as though that is explanation enough for the curtailment of rights. No further justification is required.