Cairo, Egypt - FORGET about widespread poverty, dilapidated schools, chronic unemployment or public anger over police brutality. What brings Egyptian officials to their feet, what makes them shouting mad, what inspires the call for public hearings and a minister’s resignation?
Lately the answer has been: criticism of the hijab, the Islamic style of dressing in which a woman covers her head and neck beneath a scarf, and drapes her body in loose-fitting clothing to hide her figure.
When one of Egypt’s longest serving ministers called the hijab “regressive” recently, 130 members of Parliament called for his resignation.
Behind that challenge lies a long competition for the loyalties of Egyptians between the Muslim Brotherhood, which is technically banned but feels it benefits every time a woman puts on a veil, and the country’s authoritarian leaders, who fear the power of religious symbolism and have tried to co-opt it with less and less success.
Today the debate is less over whether women should adopt Islamic dress — as many as 90 percent of women cover at least their head — but over how veiled or modest they should be. It is a debate that cuts to issues tugging at the fabric of Egyptian society: What does it mean to be a good Muslim? What does it mean to be Egyptian? How can the governing party hold back the rising popularity of the Islamists?
Trying to draw the line somewhere, several members of the establishment are opposing Islamists’ calls on women to cover themselves and, more recently, their faces entirely.
But there is also a paradox: While the increasing prevalence of the hijab is a sign that the Islamists are winning, the compromised way in which the hijab has been taken suggests that the victory is fragile.
Though the religious resurgence in Egypt is redefining its culture, politics and even national identity, the current hijab fashion often stops at the neck. Many young Egyptian women have adopted the head covering as fashion, more perhaps than as religion, and as part of the national uniform.
“Of course this is not a proper veil,” said Shereen Magdy, 22, as she walked through the upscale City Stars Mall here with a group of friends. “This is, ‘Go with the flow.’ I can get veiled and I can still look good.”
Religious officials say that in purely religious terms, such attitudes render the head scarf meaningless. “This is like fashion and it is far from religion,” said Sheik Hussein Khedr, deputy first minister of the Ministry of Religious Affairs.
Still, as any political operative knows, symbols — or style — can drive substance, and that frightens the establishment.
The prevalence of the hijab is another sign that the Islamists are succeeding in pushing Egypt, always a religious country, more toward their camp, politically, culturally and spiritually, said Gamal Ghitany, editor of Al Akhbar, one of Egypt’s largest newspapers. Indeed the masses have been sold on the notion that the hijab is a requirement of Islam. And it remains a potent religious symbol that ultimately leads to deeper Islamic identification by those wearing it, whatever their reason.
The two forces competing for Egyptians’ hearts and minds — the ruling National Democratic Party and the Muslim Brotherhood — know this. While the Brotherhood has stronger popular appeal, those in power have over the decades sought to build legitimacy by taking on the role of guardians of the faith, alongside their governing role.
In modern Egypt, analysts said, this began with President Anwar el-Sadat, who changed the constitution so that Egyptian law hewed more closely to the Koran — even while he used security forces to try to crush the Brotherhood.
But the historical outcome of this strategy has been to promote religious values — and that, some analysts say, has only helped enlarge the Brotherhood’s constituency.
The case of Egypt’s culture minister, Farouk Hosni, speaks to the point. Breaking with the usual government line of backing the veil, he said in a newspaper interview that the hijab is “a step backward for Egyptian women,” and that “women with their beautiful hair are like flowers and should not be covered up.”
When dozens of young actors died in a fire during a theater program run by Mr. Hosni’s ministry, he was not condemned. But his hijab comments drew a sharp rebuke from members of his own party.
Magdy Mohanna, a columnist for Al Masry Al Youm, a daily newspaper, said those attacks on Mr. Hosni seemed to be an effort “to try to pull the rug from under the feet of the Brotherhood” as if to say, “You’re not the only ones who defend our religion.”
Liberal critics of the regime say that the focus on the veil should be seen in the context of broad public dissatisfaction with the corrupt, autocratic system of government here. If the authoritarian leaders allowed a freer political environment, these critics argue, people might not be as quick to rush to the Muslim Brotherhood in the first place.
In any case, it seems that the authorities have grown concerned about the direction the veil debate is heading. They have now drawn the line at the niqab — the all-black billowing gown and face covering common in Saudi Arabia. A small but growing minority of Egyptian women are taking the niqab. Since it wasn’t that many years ago that only a small number of women wore the head scarf, the latest trend is being watched carefully.
The Egyptian authorities have begun to see this dress as a security threat, because it hides the face, and because it is perceived as a political statement, a rejection of the state in favor of a strict Islamic system.
Other Egyptians see it as divisive as well.
“I reject the niqab,” said Soad Saleh, a professor of religion who caused a stir recently when she announced her negative view of the niqab on state television.
At the City Stars Mall on a Thursday night, the start of the weekend, both forces were evident. It was clear the young women who wore head scarves and tight clothing were displaying as much fashion as faith. But it was also clear that they believed that in the end, faith would come to dominate.
“Changing the look of the veil attracted people to it,” said Mirna Ahmed, 35, who wore an orange head scarf, orange makeup and blue jeans rolled up to show her boots. “I am sure I will observe it better in the future, at least I hope so.”