The Woman’s Hijab: The Moving Minaret
When your footsteps echo through airport halls, when your journey lands you in distant cities across the world, and then your eyes fall upon a hijab-wearing woman walking calmly and with dignity, you feel as though the call of “Allahu Akbar” has been proclaimed—yet without a minaret.
It is as if, through her hijab, she dons herself with a flag announcing the presence of Islam in that place.
While a Muslim man may blend in behind an elegant suit or a modern shirt, the Muslim woman, through her hijab, remains an unmistakable banner—an enduring symbol that does not fade.
She is the clearest visual sign of Islam’s presence in the public sphere. For this reason, the Western campaign against the hijab was never merely a cultural clash with a traditional garment; at its core, it was a confrontation with the public testimony of this distinct religion’s existence.
They understood—politically and culturally, with great awareness—that a woman’s hijab is not simply a piece of cloth. It is a moving religious symbol, a living, daily declaration of Islam at a time when religion is meant to be confined to the private corners of the heart and prevented from expressing itself in public life.
Within the architecture of Western civilization, everything is subject to dissolution, disintegration and dismantling: the family, religion, language, and identity. Yet the hijab—this open, daily symbol—cuts through this dismantling context.
The hijab-wearing woman, as she walks among people, disrupts the illusion of victory held by Islam’s opponents.
In her simple appearance lies a reclamation of Islam’s right to exist, and in her dignified presence there is a silent reminder of the path of Heaven amid the congestion of the earthly world.
Thus, it is no surprise that media colludes, laws are mobilized, and campaigns are launched to smear and uproot this symbol from awareness and behavior.
The opponents of religion, having failed to strike at the essence of the message of Islam, turned instead to tearing down its visible signs.
They cannot tolerate a landmark that declares clearly: Islam is here. When they failed to silence revelation, they sought to muffle the echo of its symbols.
So, dear sister, you are not merely wearing a garment. You are carrying the banner of the message in an age of dilution.
You point to passersby that Islam is still alive in this world. Through your steadfastness, the project that sought to turn Islam into a museum relic rather than a living presence is defeated.
