What colour is your Hijab?
Fathali M. Moghaddam, author of 'The Psychology of Revolution' (2024), on ‘being political’ in America, the UK and Iran.
24 April 2024
I have lived almost all of my life in America, the UK, and Iran, and I continue to marvel at how even the most subtle and seemingly trivial choices indicate that one is 'being political' in these three countries.
For example, in America, you are being political when you say you like Clint Eastwood more than George Clooney. In the UK, even a hint that you prefer an article in The Guardian to one in The Telegraph will pigeonhole you politically. In Iran, you are being political just by wearing – or walking alongside a woman who wears – a Hijab of a particular colour.
One might imagine that the colour of the Hijab is inconsequential, but it actually makes a very loud political statement. Think of a continuum, from 'fundamentalist Muslim' at one end to 'supporter of democracy' at the other end. Now, imagine a second, parallel continuum with a 'black Hijab' at one end and a 'brightly coloured Hijab' at the other end.
Using the colour continuum, when you see a couple walking in the street toward you from even a mile away, you can identify their politics as soon as you can make out the colour of the Hijab worn by the woman. A black Hijab means the couple probably believe that society should be governed by a Muslim cleric who must be the ultimate decider on all matters (velayat-e faghih).
Currently, Ali Khamenei fills this dictator role. Brightly coloured Hijab means that the couple probably support free and fair elections and a democratically elected government. A 'trivial' sign which indicates being political in the most serious ways.
In Trump-era America, there is now no escape from being political – not even while gardening.
I sometimes try to lose myself by hacking at bushes and trees, and meandering around behind a plodding lawn mower. My gardening philosophy is that as long as it is green and does not strangle people and pets passing by, it is perfect. Recently, my leaf blower broke and I bought a new one, without giving much attention to the technology of what I was buying.
A neighbour watched me blowing leaves and wryly commented, 'So, you've gone over to the dark side'. I must have looked puzzled, because he followed up with, 'Electric leaf blower… you've joined those radicals.'
I remembered that several years earlier there had been heated exchanges between rival sides: traditionalists zealously guarded their old gardening equipment in the face of fierce attacks from 'greens' who want to ban all equipment powered by fossil fuels. Some traditionalists mumbled about a communist plot. I wondered if in the eyes of some of my neighbours, my electric leaf blower makes me a communist.
During my 18 years of living in England, I concluded that the best coverage of arts, culture, and education is found in The Guardian newspaper, but the most in-depth coverage of wars and sports is published in The Telegraph. A new acquaintance who observed my newspaper reading habits remarked, 'I can't work out which side you're on. Are you with us or them?'
I learned that from her perspective, reading a report of an ongoing military campaign or a cricket game is being political. Is she correct, I wonder? Perhaps cricket test matches are reported in The Telegraph with a particular political slant, and in reading them I am being political?
These subtleties reflect how culture is intricately intertwined with being political. And the many ways in which 'being political' are different in America, the UK, and Iran, should not lead us to overlook deeper similarities across the three countries. On the surface, these countries have produced very different kinds of leaders.
Ayatollah Trump, Supreme Leader Sunak, and President Khamenei certainly look and sound very different. But in a more profound way, they share a key similarity: they all belong to the golden club for multi-billionaires.
Beneath the turban, behind the skin colour, underneath the mop of hair, these extraordinarily rich leaders and their luxurious families are identical to one another, but worlds apart from the rest of us. I wonder if, when we point to this important cross-cultural similarity, the three leaders will object in unison that now we are being too political?
Fathali M. Moghaddam is a Professor of Psychology at Georgetown University, and Editor, Cambridge University Press, Progressive Psychology Books Series. His recent books include Mutual Radicalization: The Psychology of How Groups and Nations Drive Each Other to Extremes (2018), How Psychologists Failed (2022) and The Psychology of Revolution (March, 2024). Website: fathalimoghaddam.com