Why do so many religions have rules about
hair? This question came from one of our fans on
Instagram, Jodie_Dodie, and it got me thinking about the deep roots of this complex question. Religious rules about hair are widespread. Some groups dictate how followers must wear
their hair -- like Orthodox Judaism and Sikhism. Others incorporate hair-cutting rituals into
coming of age ceremonies, like the Mongolian hair cutting ceremonies for toddlers. But today we’re going to turn our attention
to one aspect of this question: religious rules about hair covering. INTRO Even though today there’s intense media
coverage on the head covering worn by Muslim women, there’s actually a wide range of
religions that have their own rules related to headgear that aren’t focused on one gender. Consider these six objects:
The kippah and the sheitel. The hijab and the taqiyah. The habit and the dastaar. They’re all head coverings worn by different
religious groups, namely those who follow Judaism, Christianity, Islam, and Sikhism. So today we’re going to walk through not
only these individual objects but the underpinnings of how they’ve been implemented in these
religions throughout history. By unpacking the histories of these objects
and others like them, we can start to see what the connections and differences are in
the hair-coovring practices of each faith, and we can explore some of the origin stories
surrounding these customs. But we can also see that these practices have
often varied over time. Because religious rules about hair are often
linked back to specific sacred texts or events. And the way those texts are interpreted has
often changed, as cultural contexts have changed along side them. So, even though these customs are thousands
of years old, they haven’t remained static. And that’s because the hair coverings themselves
are meant to signify certain religious attitudes and ideals. The sacred texts of these four faiths all
refer to ideals like modesty, equality, or changes in status or age, which the practice
of covering your hair or head are supposed to manifest. And as the followers and leaders of faiths
have changed throughout history, the implementation and practice of wearing religious head coverings
have evolved right alongside them. As a result, at different points in time,
many of these rules have gained or lost popularity, often due to shifts in the socio-political
climate surrounding the practitioners of each faith. Which is why interpretation plays a key role
in these narratives. To take it back to our original 4 examples,
let’s start with Judaism, which has a wide range of hair covering customs. For example, it’s common for married Orthodox
Jewish women to wear some form of hair covering, whether it’s a scarf, a hat, or a wig called
a sheitel. Some of the origin of this lies in a description
of the Sotah ritual that’s described in the book of Numbers in the Hebrew Bible. The ritual was meant to test the fidelity
of a wife accused of adultery. And a portion of the ritual describes accused
wives having their hair unbraided or uncovered. So then it’s then inferred that, if unbraiding
and uncovering the hair was considered a punishment, then /covered/ hair would have been the preferred
style for wives. But some of the variance in the performance
of this custom comes from the fact that, while it draws its origins from the Hebrew Bible,
it’s still interpreted differently by religious leaders and followers. So, some women wear head coverings to mark
a change in status from unmarried to married. But for Reform or Conservative Jewish women,
hair covering varies, from wearing something on their heads during prayer or religious
services (but not during their daily lives), to never covering their heads at all. So the interpretation of the hair-covering
rule for women isn’t unidimensional. Likewise, for Jewish men, there’s also a
wide range of rules that relate to ideals, such as respect and deference that are tied
to head covering. In some instances Jewish men cover their hair
with kippot (which encompasses a number of religious skull caps), or tallit (a prayer
shawl), or hats. And this too has its origins in sacred texts. For example, there are references in the Talmud
that point to covering your head for Jewish men as a sign of recognizing the supremacy
of God above them. But just like with Jewish women, how this
is interpreted and implemented is left up to the followers of the faith -- say, when
it comes to which type of covering is necessary to wear all day, or only when you’re entering
into a synagogue or engaging in prayer. Christianity also has some pretty well known
and iconic examples of head covering practices, which center mostly on women. And just like in Judaism, there are some variations
among individual sects. Perhaps the most iconic headwear that comes
to mind is a nun’s habit, which is specifically worn by Catholic nuns or sisters (and not
all women who are followers of Catholicism). But not all nuns and sisters wear habits,
since the rules of dress are left up to the discretion of particular orders. The tradition of wearing a habit was commonplace
from at least the 12th century. For nuns who spent their lives in prayer and
reflection, separated from the rest of society, the habit was sometimes a symbol of their
vows to live modest and simple lives. In other instances, for sisters who were working
with orders that were integrated into the community, the habit was a symbol of distinguishing
sisters from lay people. But in the latter half of the 20th century,
as societies’ views around women’s roles shifted to be less conservative, many orders
of nuns and sisters opted to wear modest clothes that were more like what lay people wore. So the 1960s were not only a time of mod fashion
and psychedelic patterns, but also a time when nun’s attire got modernized as well. Although some orders still wear various types
of religious habits today, you're probably more likely to see nuns and sisters wearing
lay clothing when you're on the street. As for rules governing women /followers/ of
Christianity, some denominations call for hair-coverings during prayer or when women
are receiving certain sacraments, like the Eucharist. This is the case for Orthodox Christianity,
as well as in Spain, where mantillas are often worn, or in historically black churches throughout
the US, where bonnets and hats are favored on Sundays. But as in Judaism, this is more of a matter
of accepted practice than direct Biblical law. As for men, it’s the accepted standard that,
during their official duties, men who are priests or hold leadership roles in the Catholic
Church wear ceremonial hats. And these hair coverings serve a couple of
different purposes for clergy: namely to show deference to their faith and the vows they
took, and to distinguish their role within the community. Now, Islam’s rules related to women and
hair covering are often widely discussed, even though they’re part of a broader spectrum
of practices within the world of religion and hair. In her book A Quiet Revolution: The Veil's
Resurgence from the Middle East to America, Professor Leila Ahmed traces the patterns
of veil-wearing among Muslim women from the 19th century onwards. She notes that there was a distinct period
of “unveiling,” or a decline in the wearing of head coverings among Muslim women around
the world. Ahmed notes that during her childhood in the
1940s and 50s, in both her home country of Egypt and throughout other Muslim-majority
nations, it was exceedingly rare for women to wear headscarves. This is in part due to social movements within
these countries, as well as influences from Western Europe and the US that sought to increase
secularization, or the separation of church and state up, until the 1950s. But that doesn’t mean that veils for women’s
hair (or sometimes their faces) disappeared entirely. As Ahmed notes, by the 1980s and 1990s with
the resurgence of more conservative Islamic denominations and political conflict both
internally and externally, there was an increase in women wearing veils again, sometimes as
a sign of modesty or as an outward statement of faith. But during those same decades, there were
also attempts by the Egyptian government specifically to /limit/ the wearing of hijabs and niqabs,
(or face coverings,) in public schools and universities. And some observant Muslim women do not choose
to cover their hair, or only wear a form of hair covering in certain situations (like
when leaving home or when praying). Muslim men can also wear a taqiyah (or cap)
during prayer and religious ceremonies. So although the practice of modesty for both
men and women is traced back to the Quran, there are have been periods when the practice
of wearing a head covering for women in particular has waxed and waned. Sikhs also have a highly symbolic and recognizable
form of head covering, namely the turban. Although there’s a slight reversal in our
expectations related to gender here. When Sikhism was first emerging in India in
the 15th century, the dastar (or turban) was more exclusively worn by wealthy and higher
class men. But as the adoption of the turban became more
widespread, use of this covering came to signify equality for all men who adhered to the faith,
regardless of class. This was coupled with other rules related
to hair, namely that all followers (regardless of gender) should not cut or alter any of
their body hair. But in 1907 a more radical Sikh leader, Babu
Teja Singh, put forward that women should also wear turbans, to publicly distinguish
themselves as Sikhs. So we can see from these four examples that
hair and religion are often linked. So, what do they have in common? Well at least for these religions, it seems
like the centrality of hair rules falls into 2 major (but not exclusive) categories: status
and modesty. First up: status. Religious hair covering is a way to mark your
status within a certain faith that’s easily identifiable. If you see someone wearing a certain hat or
head covering, you immediately know that they’re a follower of a specific religious group. And (depending on the rules) you may even
know their status and rank within that group. It’s also more easily distinguishable than
markers that appear lower down on the body. Because I don’t know about you, but when
I address someone, I’m usually looking at their faces and not their feet or elbows. Changes in hair covering can also note a change
in someone’s status, like an Orthodox Jewish woman who goes from being single to married,
or a hijab worn by a Muslim girl after puberty. Because, coming of age or being considered
a full adult in a religion is also a change in status. This can also be seen in Sikhism’s rasam
pagṛī or rasam dastār, the turban tying ceremony that takes place when an eldest son
is elevated to the head of household, after the death of his father. But in addition to status, /modesty/ is an
oft cited reason for the focus on hair. And that may be because hair is seen as a
source of pride or hubris. Which isn’t completely off base. People place a lot of emotional weight on
our tresses. If you’ve ever been disgruntled after a
particularly bad haircut, then you probably know what I’m talking about here. Hair draws strong emotional and psychological
responses from us because it’s a way that we can express our individuality and our own
ideals around beauty. By choosing to cover it, or limit it from
view, folks from these religions are potentially showing deference to higher ideals of modesty. So you can see how social factors and cultural
climates have played a big role in how religious followers chose to cover (or uncover) their
hair. And how these rules have been implemented
and interpreted has fluctuated over time. At certain times (like in the history of women
wearing hijabs) certain hair coverings were suppressed and discouraged by governments. At others (like in Sikhism until 1907) it
was only enforced for certain followers and not others according to gender. And in others still (like in Catholicism and
Orthodox Judaism) it’s been a matter of laws that govern a specific sect or group,
or a marker of status (married vs. single or lay person vs clergy) rather than a hard
and fast rule for every follower. Also the practice of covering hair (or not)
can have vastly different significances, even for followers of the same faith. And there’s lots of writing and personal
blogs out there (a bunch of which I’ve cited down in the description) in which adherents
of certain faiths discuss what it means to cover their hair or to leave it bare. So be sure to check those out as well. So what do you think? Anything more to add on this history of hair
and religion? Drop those comments and questions below and
as always be sure to follow us on Facebook, subscribe on Youtube. And I’ll see you guys here next time!
