There are 57 Muslim countries with distinct cultures that are erased and replaced with hijab. The hijab is not “cultural clothing.” Women in Islamic countries are forced to shroud their bodies and their personalities in the name of religion. It has nothing to do with culture. This idea that “all Muslims share a culture” is a lie told by those who want to replace diversity, free thought, and free expression in the Muslim world with a monolithic oppressive Islam. This is an excerpt from my book @Unveiledxx - get your copy on Amazon or listen to the audiobook on Audible.⁠
Cathy Larkman, Police lead and coordinator for Women's Rights Network Wales, joins Duncan Barkes to discuss the issue of male violence against women and girls, from the experience of Queen Camilla over half a century ago, to the devastating case of Sarah Everard and more recently, Gisèle Pelicot.
The author, an anonymous Afghan legal scholar, argues that the same courage US women showed in combat in Iraq and Afghanistan now defines Afghan women resisting Taliban rule... There are moments in everyone’s life when it feels as though everything has come to an end—overwhelmed by pressure, stress, and problems. As a woman living in Afghanistan under the systematic violence of the Taliban, I have experienced this deeply. I remember the day my younger sister walked toward school with her books, only to find the gates locked and a Taliban guard turning her away. Her tear-filled eyes are an image I will never forget. The Taliban’s rule has erased women from public life and devastated our personal and family lives. Since the Taliban chose to maintain their dominance by stripping women of every basic human right, barring us from education and enlightenment, I have tried my best to support the girls and women in my network across the country. I have also worked to raise awareness about the suffering of women and girls under this regime, speaking and writing despite the risks. It is obvious that my efforts place both me and my family in danger. At times, surrounded by so many problems, I ask myself: is it worth it? Is it worth putting myself at risk to support other women in this moment? These doubts have made me feel uncertain, as though I had forgotten the commitment I made when I chose to become a lawyer: to bring justice to my society. Perhaps that is why meeting Dr. Athena Ives was so meaningful.
Week in, week out, he and his comrades gather in cities across the UK, chanting their support for Palestine and demanding the destruction of Israel. On occasion, he’ll turn his attention elsewhere and stand outside a feminist conference, screaming abuse at attendees who refuse to buy into the fantasy that trans women are actually women. Whether devoting himself to making Jews feel unsafe or spending miserable afternoons threatening women who reject the presence of men in changing rooms and rape crisis centres, the contemporary British radical goes equipped with two essentials. The first is a terrifying certainty. The second is a face-mask. I’ve never had much time for these cosplayers, these weekend insurgents with their incoherent views and their violent rhetoric but, over recent days, my contempt for them has only deepened. Since December 28, people across Iran have been on their streets, demanding the end of the Islamic regime that has terrorised them for decades. With international media denied access to the country, citizens have, through shaky live streams on their smartphones, showed the world what real revolutionary courage looks like. How small the masked undergraduate waving a Hamas flag on a British street looks when compared with those Iranian women who – under threat of the most horrific punishment – have thrown off the hijabs they are compelled to wear. While British ideologues align themselves, from the safety of the West, with the Islamists of Hamas and Hezbollah, people across Iran are saying “no more” to the theocrats who, for years, have supported those terror groups. And they are doing it with humbling bravery.