SECRET

The variance in attitudes toward the hijab in the Eastern and Western worlds is merely one facet of the complex crystal of mutual misunderstanding between cultures that have evolved under entirely different circumstances. Notably, these differences stem primarily from climatic conditions. While it might seem overly simplistic and rudimentary to explain the intricate tapestry of human behavior with the help of something as vulgar as a thermometer, dismissing the weather factor would be entirely imprudent.

Interestingly enough, the Western world has also given rise to a unique form of hijab that likely never crossed the minds of even the most devout Muslim women. Imagine valenki (traditional Russian felt boots), mittens, a fur coat, an ushanka (Russian fur hat), and a scarf fastened in such a way that only the wearer’s eyes are exposed. It’s cold over here! Well, it’s hot there! Both a Siberian and a resident of Medina, when stepping outside their homes, were aware that death awaited beyond their doorstep. Existing in such inhospitable environments posed a challenge to the resilient; others were compelled to remain indoors or venture out in brief spurts while donning complex protective attire.

At least Siberians experienced moments of relief—like the arrival of spring with the swallows—when they could throw open windows and doors, shed their layers, and step outside almost entirely unclothed, absorbing the sun's rays with every inch of their skin. Ailments like rickets, scurvy, fragile bones, lost teeth, and non-healing ulcers could develop without this practice.

Inhabitants of the Sahara were unacquainted with the issue of insufficient sunlight. Instead, they contended with dehydration, sunstrokes, and skin cancer in abundance. Consequently, windows were designed to be as small as possible, serving solely for ventilation and minimal illumination. Dressing in multi-layered attire was a necessity, creating a microclimate that shielded them from the searing, deathly rays from above. This was particularly true for fair-skinned Saharan residents, given that their ancestors hailed from much less searing regions. Indeed, these two contrasting ways of life profoundly shaped distinct cultures. People then intertwined their spiritual, moral, and aesthetic foundations within those cultures. Why didn't the Egyptians, who lived in the same Sahara, adopt the practice of bundling themselves up? Egyptians had dark complexions. They resided exclusively along the shores or in the Nile Delta, where groves rustled and reeds grew twice the height of humans. Immense sycamore trees cast shadows across residential courtyards, and tree-lined alleys were planted along the streets in accordance with government mandates. For both Egyptian city dwellers and riverside settlers, most of their time was spent in the shade. Windows were almost unknown to Egyptians; their homes were lit through small apertures in the upper portions of rooms, with primary light streaming in through open doors into inner courtyards. Rooms were illuminated without direct sunlight. Many of these architectural principles were adopted by peoples around the Mediterranean, including the Greeks and Romans, who also dwelled in exceedingly hot climates during that era.

Encompassing clothing, including face-covering attire, is characteristic of desert inhabitants, including Semitic tribes. The Arabian Desert, the Gobi Desert, the Karakum Desert, and other significant Asian deserts established their own survival codes.

For inhabitants of these regions, a person and their dwelling represent meticulously safeguarded oases of order and beauty amid a tumultuous abyss. A refuge shielded from external malevolence, fortified by walls and reliable garments. Beyond these, lions roared, and scorpions crept, whereas, on the inside, we could find secured gardens, a concealed spring, fruits, and lilies—all carefully hidden away from the hostile outer world.

In the early 20th century, the renowned Japanese writer Jun'ichirō Tanizaki composed an essay titled "In Praise of Shadows." In it, he delved into the differing perspectives of an Asian (in his case, Japanese) and a European concerning shadows and darkness. He argued that the luminosity, showiness, brilliance, and sparkling cleanliness found in European homes, utensils, garments, and machines were counterproductive for Japanese culture, which thrives in a realm of subdued light. He emphasized how Japanese cuisine doesn't sit well on white porcelain and how Japanese theater struggles under electric lighting, even going so far as to suggest that a Japanese woman's identity shifts when an electric switch is turned on. "In ancient times, a woman existed solely upwards of the neckline of her dress and beyond her sleeves; the rest of her body remained enshrouded in darkness... Within the confines of a dimly lit room in a dark house, a woman's presence was represented only by her face, with the rest of her form concealed in darkness throughout both day and night... The practice of blackening teeth, a type of cosmetic adornment, seems to share a common purpose: to fill all voids with darkness, leaving only the face exposed. Even the mouth was darkened for this reason... For women accustomed to the shadows, a radiant face was enough; a visible body was unnecessary... We, Eastern people, cultivate beauty in the most ordinary places through the creation of 'shadow.'"

The Middle East takes a contrasting approach — it revels in vibrant, exuberant opulence but veils it behind sturdy, weathered walls, intricate mesh-covered windows, and dark veils. Yet, an Arab and a Japanese can relate, while a European might feel like an outsider at this celebration of concealed beauty. Europeans showcase their most exquisite possessions; they hold no secrets. They invite observers to admire them and their cherished belongings. Everything is presented externally, on display; silk on the exterior, silk within. Homes boast bas-reliefs and caryatids, impressive entrances, and English estates that have been open to the public for centuries, encouraging visitors to explore the drawing rooms of ladies and the libraries of gentlemen.

Summoning the wife of a renowned artist and having her portrayed as a nude Aphrodite, then exhibiting this artwork in the country's main museum? Absolutely! Art transcends hypocrisy, and beauty cannot remain hidden; it must inspire the admiration of countless eyes and become immortal, forever captured in stone or canvas.

Asia lacked an indigenous tradition of realistic painting; it was introduced by Western empires. Even today, Asia expresses incredulity at such barbarism bordering on madness. For them, this is akin to throwing pearls at swine. Such actions would degrade, trample, and debunk what is most cherished in life and the world. Why not just dissect a woman in half and display her true essence in an anatomical theater?

However, can this division be solely attributed to the climate? There must have been a deeper factor that fundamentally separated these two major cultural lithospheric plates. Could it be that the earlier emergence of authoritarian civilizations in the East led to subjects oppressed by sultans, shahs, and emirs, hiding their prosperity from the envious stares of potential informants and the insatiable ruling elite? Yet, were the feudal lords of fragmented Europe and their endless wars a more secure context for displaying wealth and happiness?

The fear of the envious gaze was indeed stronger in the East than in Europe. However, this fear was more mystically rooted. To this day, in places like Turkey or Egypt and virtually anywhere within the fragments of the Ottoman Empire, protective amulets against the evil eye remain among the most popular of souvenirs. Who hasn't returned with a blue glass eye on a string or a "Hand of Fatima" adorned with an eye from the resorts of Antalya or Hurghada?

It's worth noting that in ancient times, the "Hand of Fatima" was known as the "Hand of Ishtar." Yes, this amulet, an eye in the palm, has ancient Assyrian-Babylonian origins. In that region, there was a deep conviction that any human illness stemmed solely from the evil eye and a curse through which malevolent spirits entered a healthy body. "Babylonian medicine was closely intertwined with magic and sorcery. Diseases were regarded as the influence of demons that had entered the human body, and the primary task of a physician was to expel them from the patient using various incantations and spells," remarks Professor A.A. Oparin of the Kharkiv Medical Academy of Postgraduate Education.

The ancient fear of the evil eye, which can be triggered even by the involuntary envy of a passerby, is undoubtedly also one of the reasons why truly valuable things were believed to be hidden from such chance observers. For instance, meeting the gaze of a common nobleman face-to-face, not just a lord, could result in losing one's head. In the East, interacting with the powerful often involved prostrating oneself face-down on the ground—not to demean the petitioner but to ensure the safety of the superior based on rank.

A garden that would wither when exposed to the sands and winds of the desert, domestic happiness that would crumble under envious eyes and pilfering hands—both mirror the fate of a beauty who would be shamed and marred by the greedy gazes of strangers.

The Western feminist, genuinely concerned for her oppressed and veiled counterparts in the East, is as unwittingly myopic in her ethnographic perspective as her veiled counterparts. The latter observe an unprotected and defenseless woman amidst a crowd, an unloved woman walking with exposed legs, her every move lewdly scrutinized. Flipping the cornerstones of worldviews to view situations from different angles is no easy task.

A Western woman should understand that in Eastern countries, being uncovered or nude was the destiny of unfortunate slaves. Sometimes, the law even restricted free women from wearing concealing clothing, and access to a secure harem's seclusion was often limited to noble women of distinguished lineage. Nonetheless, most are unlikely to even be aware of this, let alone truly grasp it. Western women may see the tranquility and freedom of a harem as constricting. The fundamental truths about the placement of valuables in chests, roses sheltered by stone walls in gardens, and pearls nestled in coarse shells elude.

To a woman with Western values, the concept of freedom entails pursuing her own desires without being under anyone’s guardianship. Well, and as far as fearing harm from any external evil forces, that’s what therapists are for.

Certainly, the forthcoming global world will eventually create an entirely new blend of cultures akin to cooking a new mixed porridge from diverse grains. However, at present, we are merely observing the initial stirrings of this immense culinary mixture, and so far, with very limited success.

1. Jun'ichirō Tanizaki's "In Praise of Shadows." Azbuka-Klassika, 2006.

2. A.A. Oparin. "Medicine of Ancient Babylon." 2017.