Nike’s Pro Hijab isn’t just a gimmick
By introducing the Pro Hijab, Nike legitimises the wearing of the hijab by Muslim women in sport
WHEN sports manufacturer Nike launched its Nike Pro Hijab, earlier this year, it made obvious business sense.
What Nike – perhaps inadvertently – has done, is to legitimise the hijab across two very different narratives.
One is in response to hostile liberal democracies that are adamant in modernising Muslim women by stripping them of their hijab.
The other is in response to some interpretations of Islam, which consider the traditional dress and role of Muslim women as irreconcilable with the modern arena of sport.
Nike has countered the position of liberal democracies because, implicit in its action is that if Muslim women are supported in wearing the hijab while participating in sport, then what can be so wrong about it being worn in other contexts?
By introducing the Pro Hijab, Nike is legitimising the wearing of the hijab by Muslim women in sport, and it’s also legitimising the wearing of the hijab in a public space.
The preoccupation of liberal democracies to curtail and regulate the dress code of Muslim women, such as banning the hijab in public spaces, has added to the vulnerability of Muslim women. What liberal democracies demand of them is to de-veil so that they become publicly acceptable.
In these countries, the hijab is designated as a symbol and image of oppression and backwardness. Sports sociologist Jennifer Hargreaves writes in her book Heroines of sport: The politics of difference and identity (2000), the veil is a symbol of cultural difference.
For non-muslims, it conveys the idea that Western women are liberated and Muslim women, by comparison, are oppressed. The veil represents the “otherness” of Islam and is condemned in the West as a constricting mode of dress, a form of social control and a religious sanctioning of women’s invisibility and subordinate socio-political status.
Secondly, what Nike has done is to counter the Muslim patriarchal view that justifies the relegation of Muslim women to the private space. It does this on the basis that women’s participation in the public domain necessarily compromises their modesty and values. In recognising Muslim women’s participation in sport, the Pro Hijab has symbolically placed the role of the Muslim female body in the public sphere.
But sport transcends the boundaries of geographical and political spaces. It has both the means – and the end – of bringing together different ways of thinking, being and competing. Sport also cuts across culture, religion and language like no other industry.
High-end designer names such as Oscar de la Renta, Dolce & Gabbana, Versace and DKNY already tap into a formerly untraversed market of Muslim money, epitomised by the wealth found in the Gulf region. In this sense, Nike’s latest clothing attire has been dismissed as nothing else but opportunistic.
Nike’s Pro Hijab has been welcomed by some – mostly Muslim women. But it’s also been criticised harshly for endorsing the oppression of women. Criticism on social media have promoted tweets of dissent with the hashtag #Boycottnike.
But lost in this discontent are three significant facts and factors.
Firstly, the participation of Muslim women in sport is not new. Secondly, Muslim women who participate in sport and who wish to maintain an Islamic dress code – as in wearing the hijab – have already done so. Thirdly, the impression that Nike is the first to promote a hijab, specifically geared at athletes, is misplaced.
The first person to design and market an “athletic hijab” was Dutch designer, Cindy van den Bremen, who did so in 1999. Today, smaller companies, like Van den Bremen’s Capsters, Canadian-based Resporton, as well as a range of Muslim-owned companies, have been selling sports hijabs all over the world. In fact, a design by Resporton was one of the reasons the International Taekwondo Federation allowed Muslim women to compete in recognised tournaments.
Both Capster and Resporton submitted prototypes that formally overturned the football umbrella body, Federation Internationale de Football Association’s (Fifa) hijab ban in 2014.
These companies carved out a space for Muslim women when their participation was challenged. Nike’s introduction of the Pro Hijab, therefore, is not a groundbreaking endeavour – regardless of what its campaign might imply.
But what Nike has achieved in promoting its Pro Hijab is the mainstreaming of what is generally considered an oppressive and marginalised garment by a globally recognised brand.
In the context of intensifying levels of Islamophobia increasingly directed at Muslim women, it’s inconceivable that Nike would not have expected the inevitable political and social backlash.
Indeed, the ensuing controversy might very well be the best marketing for the latest Nike product.
Davids is an associate professor of the philosophy of education at Stellenbosch University.