TO give readers in Pakistan a flavour of life in multicultural Britain today, I can do no better than quote from Henry Porter’s column in the Observer of October 8: “I drink coffee in a cafe which is run by an Israeli and his Eritrean wife. I buy newspapers from Sri Lankans, deposit my cheques with a Nigerian in Lloyds TSB, buy fruits and vegetables from Greek Cypriots, eat at a Lebanese restaurant run by Shias, have my hair cut by a Turk and use the chemist run by three young Muslims, whose origin I do not know.”

But over the last few years, a shadow has fallen over this colourful mix of races and religions. Particularly since 9/11, an increasingly edgy, them-versus-us attitude has clouded relations between Muslims and virtually every other community in Britain. The recent furore over Jack Straw’s controversial suggestion that Muslim women should consider revealing their faces is a case in point. In a knee-jerk reaction, many Muslim groups and liberals have condemned the ex-foreign secretary. But his words, as well as the context in which they were written, need to be discussed and debated rationally and unemotionally.

As they react angrily to the criticism of their faith they see implicit in Jack Straw’s suggestion, Muslims forget that Islam does not have a monopoly on the veil. Indeed, nowhere does the Holy Quran state that women have to cover their faces, as well as their bodies from head to toe. It calls for modest attire, no more and no less. The fact is that different societies have adapted their dress to Islam over the years in keeping with their culture. Thus, rural Pushtun women wear all-enveloping shalwar kameezes and burqas in keeping with their tribal traditions, while urban Indonesian women dress in long, ankle- length skirts. Neither group are better or worse Muslims by dressing within their respective cultural norms.

Despite the universally modest dress code adopted by Muslim women around the world, Muslim men feel it is their God-given right to dictate to their women what they should and should not wear. In Kashmir as well as Bangladesh, Islamic fundamentalists have threatened to throw acid at women who do not cover their faces.

There have been cases where these threats were carried out. In Iraq, a once-secular society is now prescribing the most extreme form of burqa and naqab. And women are being killed for working in the professions they were trained for.

So while the veil pre-dates Islam by centuries, most societies have come to see it as a symbol of oppression. Nevertheless, western brides are veiled as they approach the altar at their wedding. Girls speak of “taking the veil” as they answer the call to join an order of nuns. But these faint echoes are the remaining vestiges of a once-prevalent dress code. Today, commenting on somebody’s attire, other than in the fashion sense, would be considered highly offensive. That being so, why should Jack Straw take it upon himself to request Muslim women visiting him at his constituency office to remove their veils?

The truth is that talking to somebody whose features are covered is a bit disconcerting. Often, body language and facial expressions reveal far more than words. We unconsciously read non-verbal communications while carrying on a conversation. But apart from a one-to-one dialogue, the veil symbolically separates one community from another. This is the veil many British commentators have focussed on in their analysis of Straw’s words. As Fatima Martin Al-Fulk of Woking writes in a letter to the Guardian:

“I am a Muslim woman wearing the headscarf, but nevertheless find myself agreeing with Jack Straw. The veil makes a separation, even between Muslim women... The veil also excludes women from many professions: who would want to be treated by a doctor or a nurse or be taught by a woman whose face was hidden? We have to adapt our cultural traditions if they no longer make sense.”

But is the all-enveloping, face covering dress worn by some Muslim women really part of our cultural tradition? As a child in Karachi in the early fifties, I remember my mother (who normally wore a sari) cycling off to attend civil defence meetings in a shalwar-kameez. In Lahore, my girl cousins would go to Kinnaird College on bikes in the early sixties. Fateh, my fisherman friend, remembers his mother and aunts going to sea to help their husbands. I certainly don’t recall seeing so many women wearing head-to-toe burqas while I was growing up in Karachi. And to this day, women living and working on farms cannot afford to have their movements or their vision restricted by all-encompassing robes. So clearly, to talk of this current trend as being part of Muslim tradition is misleading.

It is certain that by wearing the all-concealing burqa, Muslim women are not adhering to any Islamic injunction, but are making a statement about their identity. I may not agree with this decision, but I do respect it.

However, this choice should be independently arrived at, not imposed by fathers, husbands or brothers. Logically then, young girls should not be made to dress differently from others at school: besides limiting their normal extra-curricular activities, the burqa also sets them apart from other schoolchildren.

If, as thinking young adults, girls decide to dress differently, that is their prerogative. To end this column, here are the sentiments of Jane Saker, writing to the Daily Telegraph from Weston-super-Mare in Somerset:

“Well done, Mr Straw. As a woman, I find the sight of veiled and burqa-clad women deeply offensive, bringing as it does the implication that women are an inferior species. In this country, women had a long and bitter fight to gain equality, and the influx of women who are considered inferior by their communities is very divisive and frankly offensive.

“If people wish to live in my country, fine — we have a long tradition of welcoming the stranger and the oppressed. But if they insist on conducting themselves in a manner deeply resented by many people, it is better they reside in a country where they would feel more comfortable.”

This is a view being expressed more and more often in Britain, and it is one I would not argue against.