As Central Asian governments tighten restrictions on the hijab in the name of upholding secularism, devout Muslim women find themselves forced to navigate an increasingly difficult choice between their faith and the law.
By Niginakhon Saida and Svetlana Dzardanova
“Although I began praying in sixth grade, it wasn’t until 2020 that I started wearing hijab,” Malika, a 20-year-old university student from Fergana who asked not to use her real name, told The Diplomat. “This led to unexpected pressure from my school community as everyone, including the teachers I was close with, began telling me to take my hijab off.”
“Once the school principal confronted me in front of everyone, harshly insisting that I stop wearing hijab and accused me of using it as a form of self-advertisement.”
To Malika’s relief, the nationwide COVID-19 lockdown mandated that everyone stay at home, allowing her to graduate in peace.
Central Asia’s war on hijab has persisted for years, and Malika’s story echoes the experiences shared by countless women who face similar struggles across the region. In our previous work for The Beet, we unpacked the political dynamics of the hijab ban in Central Asia, tracing its historical roots and policy implications. Now, we turn our attention to the real-world consequences on women’s lives, delving into the costs of state-imposed restrictions on religious expression.
As the region has aggressively promoted a secular, traditional dress code, Muslim women have become the unintended victims of new regulations. Control over their attire is enforced largely through educational institutions, where young women study and work.
“Banning or restricting hijab in the countries of the region falls within the overall framework of combating ‘wrong’ Islam as a central narrative in countering so-called religious extremism,” said Anastassiya Reshetnyak, Preventing and Countering Violent Extremism (P/CVE) consultant and a research fellow at Paperlab Research Center, in an interview with The Diplomat.
“In Kazakhstan, for example, women who wear the hijab are prevented from entering the civil service, and girls [wearing hijab] are prevented from attending school. Negative attitudes towards the wearing of the hijab are spread in society (including by civil servants), which leads to the alienation and disconnection of women and girls from the wider society and even at the community level.”
Astana’s decision to ban hijab for both students and teachers last year, in the name of preserving secular values, sparked intense debate. Despite Kazakhstan’s secular identity, around 70 percent of its population profess Islam. For girls from committed religious families, the alternative to conforming is often to remain uneducated.
The hijab ban “can contribute to the radicalization of both women and their communities,” Reshetnyak continued. “Restrictions on certain types of work can lead to ‘gray’ and ‘black’ employment – in fact, to even greater alienation from the state and society, and to closure from their community. The same applies to the prohibition of hijab in schools: girls are either transferred to homeschooling and lose contact with their peers and ‘secular’ teachers, or they drop out of school; alternatively, they go to countries where they can attend classes in hijab (e.g. Turkey).”
On July 26, the Council of Ulema of Tajikistan issued a fatwa, a legal ruling on a point of Islamic law, advising women against wearing “tight, black or see-through clothing.” Noting that the black color is not mandated by the Hanafi Islamic legal framework, the fatwa marked that “traditional national clothing of Tajik mothers and sisters, consisting of a scarf, dress, and trousers, fully meets the requirements” of the Islamic school of jurisprudence followed by majority of Muslims in the country.
Although the fatwa does not specify what is meant by “black clothing,” it is likely referring to black abayas, traditionally worn in Arab Muslim societies. These garments gained prominence in Central Asia only after the collapse of the Soviet Union, as people sought to reconnect with their Islamic heritage. The influx of religious literature, scholars, and missionaries from the Middle East, as well as the exposure of Central Asians to global Islamic practices through travel and social media platforms, contributed to the growing popularity of black abayas among women. However, Central Asian governments often view them as a foreign influence and a potential symbol of political or radical Islam.
Ironically, such restrictions on religious attire bolstered the recruitment tactics of extremist groups in Central Asia. The connection “was particularly evident in [Islamic State] recruitment, when secular authorities in the region were branded as kafirs (infidels), including for their stance on the appearance of believers. At various points, not only hijabs but also, for example, men’s beards were criticized and banned,” explained Resehtnyak.
For men, adhering to Islamic dress requirements is relatively straightforward, as their awrah (nakedness), the part of the body that must be covered, is generally limited to the area between the navel and the knees. In contrast, women’s hijab covers them from head to toe, typically allowing only the face, hands, and feet to remain visible. This disparity means men encounter fewer social or practical barriers in maintaining religious dress while navigating everyday life.
“Recruiters [for extremist groups] appealed to the fact that believers in these countries could not properly practice their religion and remain faithful Muslims under severe restrictions,” Resehtnyak said. “This argument persists in one form or another to this day – for example, it is used in Taliban propaganda to create a positive image of Afghanistan under their control.”
The Council of Ulema’s fatwa was published a month after Dushanbe had passed a law banning the “import, sale, promotion, and use of clothing alien to the national culture,” essentially outlawing hijab. This ban is just another step taken by Dushanbe to control women’s attire. Back in 2007, Tajikistan’s Ministry of Education issued a directive banning both the hijab and miniskirts for school and university students. A decade later, in 2018, the Ministry of Culture extended this approach by promoting long skirts not only for university students but for all women. Their “Recommendations for Wearing Clothes in Tajikistan” advised against miniskirts, translucent dresses, deep necklines, crop tops, black clothing, and black scarves, indirectly targeting black Islamic full-coverage attire.
At the time, local experts criticized the guidelines as another attempt by the authorities to suppress the wearing of hijabs and satr, a traditional headscarf.
In the heated debate over the hijab, both supporters and opponents often overlook a crucial point – each individual woman’s right to choose what she wears – leaving women’s voices sidelined in the very issue that most affects them.
Uzbekistan lifted its de facto ban on hijab for students in 2021, but with a condition: the head covering should either be a ro’mol, a national headscarf tied behind the neck, or a do’ppi, a national cap. “Taking into account the appeals of many parents and our national values, as an exception for our girls, it is allowed to wear a national headscarf (wrapped on the back of the head) and a do’ppi in school in white and light colors” said Uzbekistan’s Minister of Public Education Sherzod Shermatov.
“I am currently married and a senior student at a university in Tashkent,” Malika recounted. “To qualify for graduation, I have to undergo an internship at a public school. A friend of mine and I were about to sign a contract with one school when the principal told us it is only possible if we take off our hijab or tie it behind. After that, we went to six more schools and received the same answer.”
Tashkent also abolished the administrative liability for wearing “prayer clothes” in public places in 2021 when revising the law “On Freedom of Conscience and Religious Organizations.” The ban was lifted due to the absence of a clear legal definition of “prayer clothes.” Although Article 184.1 of the Administrative Code, which imposed penalties for wearing such attire except for religious officials, was rendered ineffective immediately, it took another two years for the provision to be formally removed.
However, covering one’s face in public places to the extent that it hinders identification is still banned (Article 184.4). Exceptions are made for wearing helmets, medical masks, and similar gear deemed necessary. Non-compliance with this provision results in a fine ranging from $250 to $400.
The law on measures to provide students of state general secondary education institutions with a modern school uniform from August 15, 2018 sets a certain norm for outfits, obligating that students “must walk inside the building of the educational institution without headgear.” This is explained by the “secular character of the general secondary education,” so wearing “elements that reflect belonging to different religions and denominations, as well as different subcultures (hijab, kipa, kashaya, cross etc.)” are not allowed.
“In the beginning of this school year, girls with hijabs were gathered and forced to remove their [hijab],” Said, whose sister is a senior student at general secondary school No. 32 of Namangan district, Namangan, told The Diplomat. Fearing for his sister’s safety, he asked The Diplomat not to disclose their identities. “The principal told them that they can not study at this school otherwise and they should transfer. Now she wears her scarf tied on the back of her head.”
Religious leaders of Central Asia do their best to appease the secular government while also commanding ordinary Muslims to follow Shariah, or Islamic law. Traditional Central Asian attire for women – headscarves, long dresses, and trousers adorned with vibrant colors and patterns – can meet Shariah requirements. However, governments mandating a specific clothing style as part of a broader effort to enforce a national identity strips pious women of their right to choose and undermines their bodily autonomy.
“Restricting freedoms is one of the worst tactics in the long-term prevention of violent extremism,” insisted Reshetnyak. “The logic of proponents of the hijab ban is to homogenize society by removing the manifestation and representation of ‘alien’ cultural traits related to the practice of Islam. However, it has long been proven that there is no direct correlation between religious knowledge and joining violent extremist organizations.”
“At the same time, one of the key characteristics of violent manifestations in Central Asia is a strong focus on the state and its institutions (especially the security forces). A common characteristic of those who join violent extremist organizations is a sense of injustice and lack of inclusion in public processes,” Reshetnyak continued. In order to address that root cause, “it is necessary, on the contrary, to create conditions that ensure the inclusion of all groups in public institutions. It is necessary to increase the representation of vulnerable groups, to speak openly about problems, to create a pluralistic society. In authoritarian states, especially when security forces are responsible for preventing and countering violent extremism, such methods are not central.”
“It is a pity that hijabi girls in the education system are treated as if they are terrorists,” said Malika expressing her frustration. “If I did not have to, I would not even go to the doorsteps of a school. We once dreamed of working at public schools, but now we just hate it. Working in a place where freedom and justice is not present is like humiliating yourself and your knowledge!”
Svetlana Dzardanova is a human rights and corruption researcher at Freedom for Eurasia and an associate at the Central Asia Institute for Strategic Studies (CAISS). Her current research interests center around gender and gender-related policy design and implementation.
Niginakhon Saida is a scholar whose research interests focus on gender, Islam, and politics in Central Asia.
Original published in The Diplomat
