In a surprising yet increasingly common move among Muslim-majority nations, Kazakhstan has officially banned face-covering garments in public. The law, signed by President Kassym-Jomart Tokayev, prohibits clothing that “interferes with facial recognition,” with exceptions for medical, weather-related, or cultural and sporting circumstances.
While the legislation avoids direct reference to Islamic attire such as the niqab or burqa, its intent is widely understood: a symbolic rejection of foreign religious garments in favor of national dress. This trend is not isolated. Across Central Asia, countries like Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan, and Uzbekistan have taken similar steps — raising questions about the tension between religious expression, national identity, and state secularism.
Faith or Culture? The Face-Covering Debate
The Islamic tradition of modest dress, including the hijab (headscarf) and niqab (face veil), has long been a subject of interpretation and debate within Muslim societies. While the hijab is widely accepted as religiously recommended, the niqab and burqa — garments that obscure the entire face — are seen by many scholars as cultural rather than religious obligations.
This distinction is important, especially in post-Soviet, Muslim-majority nations like Kazakhstan, where Islamic practices have resurged after decades of communist repression. However, governments are now drawing lines between what they consider authentic religious practice and foreign-influenced extremism, often associating face-covering garments with radical ideologies imported from abroad.
President Tokayev’s position reflects this sentiment. “It’s much better to wear clothes in the national style,” he said, urging citizens to embrace Kazakhstan’s traditional attire rather than “face-concealing black robes,” which he implied were incompatible with the country’s cultural roots.
Kazakhstan’s Path Toward Secularism
Kazakhstan has long maintained a secular identity despite being over 70% Muslim. In 2017, the state banned hijabs in public schools, and in 2023, the restriction was extended to teachers. These moves were met with backlash, particularly from conservative and rural communities.
In one notable 2023 incident, over 150 schoolgirls in the Atyrau region boycotted classes in protest of the hijab ban. While the government claimed the issue was resolved through dialogue, the ambivalence surrounding religious dress in public institutions remained.
Tokayev defended the secular stance, stating: “School is, first and foremost, an educational institution where children come to gain knowledge. Religious beliefs… are a private matter.”
This statement reinforces the state’s position: public spaces are to remain ideologically neutral, and religious expression, especially in visible forms like face veils, is seen as a challenge to that principle.
A Regional Trend
Kazakhstan is not alone. In recent years:
· Tajikistan has restricted hijabs and long beards, calling them foreign imports.
· Uzbekistan has banned face coverings in government buildings.
· Kyrgyzstan has considered similar bans, with leaders arguing that garments like the niqab contradict Kyrgyz traditions.
Authorities often cite security concerns, such as facial recognition and counterterrorism, as reasons for these restrictions. But beneath the surface lies a deeper goal: preserving secularism and reinforcing national identity in the face of growing religious conservatism.
A Veil Over Freedom?
The wave of face-covering bans in Muslim-majority countries like Kazakhstan may appear paradoxical — how can predominantly Islamic societies restrict Islamic dress?
The answer lies in the complex interplay between faith, culture, politics, and identity. For leaders like Tokayev, banning face veils is not about rejecting Islam but reasserting a version of it that aligns with national values and modern statehood.
Yet, these moves carry risks. Restricting religious expression can alienate segments of society, fuel underground movements, and stir tensions between traditionalism and state policy.
As more Muslim countries pursue similar paths, the question lingers: Are these bans a step toward unity and modernity — or a silencing of pluralism under the guise of nationalism?
(With agency inputs)
