Banning the niqab in schools will be particularly problematic, several experts says. In matters of education, the proposed law goes further than Bouchard-Taylor: it would restrict niqabs and burkas for both students and teachers, for instance, while the Bouchard-Taylor report recommended a restriction for professors alone.
Leckey says it’s near impossible to make the argument about identification or communication in many of the places where the bill would apply. “You don’t ID people in a library or many other government-funded public spaces,” he says. “In fact, people go to the library to not communicate, except over their cellphones or with the bar-code machines at the exit.”
Of course, the Quebec government could override any unfavourable court ruling simply by invoking the notwithstanding clause, the constitutional tool that gives the provinces a temporary veto over the courts. Quebec used it in 1988 to defend its language rights, and recently threatened to do so again on the issue of French education. Would the province do it again to keep Quebec’s face uncovered? “Oh my, we aren’t there at all,” Weil said. “We have lots and lots of opinions. We really think it’s reasonable.”
Needless to say, Shama Naz doesn’t think the government is being reasonable at all. A graduate of Concordia, she spent years working in a downtown office and never once had a problem over her niqab. She quit to raise her children, and was reconsidering a return to school for another degree—something she won’t likely do if the government legislates the removal of her niqab. “This is where I went to school, this is where I work, this is where I got married, this is where I had children,” she says. “I was heartbroken and shocked, because I didn’t think something like this would happen in Canada, but I’ve moved on from those emotions to something more constructive.”
She may leave Quebec altogether. “I’m not sure of how far this is going to go,” she says, alluding to rumours that the hijab, or head covering, is the next bit of cloth to be targeted by the government. She worries about how the decision will affect her daughters, and whether they will be able to wear the niqab—“if they choose to,” she adds. “It’s very sad, and I don’t know if I’m going to be staying in Quebec with all this drama going on.”
Certainly, if the polls are any indication, at least some Quebecers would be delighted to see the unrepentant wearers of face and head coverings—people like Naz—leave for good. Others may see it as an unintended but unavoidable consequence. “I wouldn’t be happy if some day I find myself in front of a judge who is wearing the hijab,” says Beaudoin, the Péquiste hawk. “They say it’s their choice but I don’t believe it. You know, at the time of slavery there were slaves who didn’t want to be freed, who praised their chains, but that’s not a reason to not abolish slavery.”
Government hearings on the law begin May 18. Between now and then, Weil believes, calmer heads will prevail on both sides, and people, Muslims and non-Muslims alike, will see Bill 94 for what it is: a moderate, progressive and entirely necessary step for Quebec society. “To those people who are worried, I say: don’t worry, we are a reasonable society, we are going to have an adult conversation about this,” she said. “You’ll see, it’ll be okay.”















