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Misogyny, Racism, and Islamophobia: Street Harassment at the Intersections   

Hannah Mason-Bish & Irene Zempi  

Abstract 

Veiled Muslim women are at an increased risk of street harassment in the current 

political and economic climate. Their visibility, combined with their popular portrayal 

as culturally dangerous or threatening means that they are vulnerable to receiving 

verbal and physical threats, which can be misogynistic and Islamophobic in nature. 

Drawing on 60 individual and 20 focus group interviews with Muslim women in the 

United Kingdom who wear the niqab (face veil) and had experienced harassment in 

public, this qualitative study details their lived experiences. It argues that an 

intersectional analysis is crucial to understanding the nuances of their lived 

experiences and the impact street harassment has on their lives. The findings 

demonstrate that street harassment can produce a hostile environment for veiled 

Muslim women, which can have a terrorizing effect, limiting their full participation in 

the public sphere. 

Introduction 

Within the current post-Brexit climate, veiled Muslim women are facing increased 

risks of attacks in the United Kingdom. The anti-Muslim hate monitoring group Tell 

MAMA reported in their annual survey for 2016 that there was a significant rise in 

hate crimes against Muslims being reported to them after the vote to leave the 

European Union. Research found that not only are Muslim women more likely to be 

attacked than Muslim men but also their experiences demonstrate misogynistic and 

Islamophobic undertones (Zempi & Chakraborti, 2014). The number of people 



 

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identifying as Muslim has increased by 1.2 million between the 2001 and 2011 

census sweeps (Casey, 2016). Our research took place at a time when Muslims are 

having their faith and beliefs questioned more vocally by some sections of society. A 

2016 ComRes poll noted that 43% of 2,000 adults surveyed felt that Islam was a 

negative force in the United Kingdom. A recent government report suggested that 

this was partly caused by concerns over integration, immigration, and perceptions of 

backward religious practices (Casey, 2016). 

Certainly, not all Muslim women wear the headscarf and/or face veil, and some are 

not covered at all. However, as Perry (2014) points out, Muslim women and girls are 

extremely vulnerable to street violence motivated by their visible status as Muslims. 

This also has to do with the controlling images of veiled Muslim women that render 

them especially attractive and available targets. Bullock and Jafri (2002) highlight 

three “personas” that Muslim women are perceived to occupy in the popular 

imagination, and, thus, define what Muslim women “are supposed to be and do”: 

The first is the “harem belly-dancer character,” the mysterious and sexualized 

woman of the “Orient”; the second is “the oppressed Muslim woman,” often 

represented as the hijab (headscarf) wearer or the woman who is unable to drive; 

and, finally, there is the “militant Muslim woman,” often shown in hijab with a gun and 

military clothes. (p. 36) 

Along similar lines, Zempi & Chakraborti (2014) point out that veiled Muslim women 

are routinely portrayed as oppressed, “culturally dangerous,” and “threatening” to the 

Western way of life and to notions of public safety and security by virtue of being fully 

covered in the public sphere. Correspondingly, the visibility of veiled Muslim women 

must also be understood in the current climate of international legal reforms, which 



 

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have attempted to criminalize wearing the niqab in public places. France was the first 

to ban face covering, when, in 2009, then president Nicolas Sarkozy said that such 

clothing was “not welcome” and that legislation would protect women who were 

being forced to wear it. There have been calls by some members of parliament 

(MPs) to ban the niqab in Britain, following recent bans in other European countries 

such as Belgium, Switzerland, the Netherlands, Italy, and Bulgaria. Such legislation 

alludes to a need to protect Muslim women from an oppressive male family member, 

which infantilizes them and makes them appear weak. Furthermore, it promotes a 

message of intolerance and indicates that Muslim women who wear the niqab do not 

belong in secular Western countries. Both messages have a similar impact which is 

to encourage Muslim women to stay home and out of public view. 

Although there is increasing literature on street violence against women generally, 

there is relatively little scholarly work examining the experiences of Muslim women 

who wear the niqab. Allen’s (2015) study provided a significant contribution to this 

gap by interviewing veiled Muslim women about their experiences and concluding 

that incidents were often at the intersection of religion and gender. However, there 

still exists a lack of engagement with wider literature on street harassment, which 

draws out more general gendered experiences. Drawing on 60 individual and 20 

focus group interviews with Muslim women who wear the niqab, this article reflects 

upon their lived experiences in public spaces. We argue that it is essential to take an 

intersectional approach by looking at how they are victimized along Islamophobic 

and misogynistic lines. Our aim with this article is to demonstrate the religious and 

gender dimensions of veiled Muslim women’s experiences in public. This does not 

just mean acknowledging that Muslim women have different experiences, but 



 

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thinking more critically about how key aspects of their identity intersect to define their 

place in the social world. 

Understanding street harassment and intersectionality  

In this article, we employ the term “street harassment” because it is inclusive in 

terms of capturing different forms of harassment of women in public (rather than 

merely sexual harassment). As Davis (1994) points out, there are three certain key 

characteristics associated with street harassment: the locale, the gender of and the 

relationship between the harasser and the target, and the reference to body parts. 

Typically, the targets of street harassment are female, whereas the harassers are 

male; the harassers are unacquainted with their targets, and the forum is a public 

one (although the content of the speech, if any, is not intended as public discourse; 

Bowman, 1993). From this perspective, street harassment is defined as “the 

unsolicited verbal and/or nonverbal act of a male stranger towards a female, solely 

on the basis of her sex, in a public place” (Laniya, 2005, p. 100). Both men and 

women can experience street harassment; however, most victims are women. 

Vera-Gray (2016) argues that empirical studies of street harassment, its prevalence, 

manifestations, effects, and the meanings it holds for both, the men who practice it 

and the women who experience it, are limited. Reasons for the “invisibility” of 

women’s experiences of street harassment include trivialization (Tuerkheimer, 1997), 

normalization (Bowman, 1993; Larkin, 1997), and the ways in which practices in 

public or semipublic places do not receive the same scrutiny as practices in private 

places (Gardner, 1995; Goffman, 1990). With the exception of Kelly (1988), Randall 

(1987), and Wise and Stanley (1987), public space as an arena, and everyday life as 

the context, are largely absent from mainstream work on sexual harassment. 



 

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Furthermore, scholarship on street harassment has tended to overlook the issue of 

intersectionality in relation to victim experiences. Coined by Crenshaw (1989), the 

concept of intersectionality was introduced to explain the way that multiple systems 

of oppression construct our identities and also our access to power and privilege. In 

relation to violence and hostility, difference is obscured both in an attempt to 

understand the victim experience and in relation to how campaigners and policy 

makers might exclude issues of gender, religion, or other identity characteristics. 

This is particularly the case for the lived experiences of “other” women such as 

Muslim women who wear the niqab in public in the United Kingdom. 

Against the backdrop of the “War on Terror” and the popular perceptions of gender 

oppression in Islam, the visibility of the niqab renders Muslim women the “ideal” 

target for street harassment (Zempi & Chakraborti, 2014). In this regard, wearing the 

niqab marks Muslim women more readily visible as “soft,” “easy,” and “convenient” 

targets to attack. Veiled Muslim women often occupy intersecting positions in terms 

of religion, gender, and appearance coupled with other aspects of their identities, 

and this defines their experiences of street harassment. Abu-Ras and Suarez (2009) 

highlight the complexity of Muslim women’s identities: (a) their gender status as 

women, who generally face more discrimination in access to educational, financial, 

health, and social resources; (b) their cultural identity that is shaped by structural 

social and cultural constraints provided by gender socialization and patriarchal 

processes; (c) their status as immigrants and minorities in a Western country, and 

the resulting social and economic marginalization; and finally (d) their Muslim dress 

code that symbolizes modesty and physical integrity, and identifies them from non-

Muslims, marking them as targets for hate crimes, discrimination, and possible 

violations of their bodily integrity. 



 

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At the same time though, this does not mean that street harassment has one 

meaning for veiled Muslim women and a different meaning for all other women; 

rather, veiled Muslim women can experience street harassment in ways that are both 

similar to and different from that experienced by all other women. According to Davis 

(1994), truly to understand any woman’s experience, it is crucial to think of her as 

embodied and not as an individual experiencing street harassment on various, 

nonintersecting axes. It is argued that “we cannot hope to understand the meanings 

of a person’s experience, including her experiences of oppression, without first 

thinking of her as embodied, and second thinking about the particular meanings 

assigned to that embodiment” (Davis, 1994, p. 214). To illustrate this, Lloyd (2005) 

points out that Black women do not experience racism because they are Black, and 

sexism because they are women; they experience both simultaneously on the basis 

that “racism and sexism interlock, they modulate and inflect one another” (p. 45). 

Taking a similar position, Spelman (1990) states that “sexism and racism do not 

have different objects” (p. 12). Such insights can be revealing, for example, the work 

of Fogg-Davis that examined the victimization of Black lesbians. He noted that it was 

important to question the “interplay between civic behaviours and intersection 

structural inequalities” and that their victimization drew upon heterosexism, 

colonialism, and slavery (Fogg-Davis, 2006, p. 57). Such a detailed examination has 

not been carried out in relation to the experiences of veiled Muslim women. 

 

For Muslim women, their experiences can sit at the intersection of religion and 

gender coupled with other aspects of their identity. In essence, these aspects of 

identity define not only their everyday life experiences but also specifically their 

experiences and responses to street harassment. For many, the niqab itself is a 



 

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symbol of gender oppression and “extreme” Muslim values, meaning that 

perpetrators feel emboldened to enact both their Islamophobic and misogynistic 

feelings on Muslim women (Zempi & Chakraborti, 2014). Literature on street 

harassment demonstrates that it is commonplace for women to take safety 

precautions in public such as altering their appearance or clothing (Bowman, 1993). 

For Muslim women, this gendered approach takes on an added dimension because 

it might mean removing their niqab, which has implications for their religious sense of 

self and practicing their religion. 

Methods 

Overview of research design  

The research took the form of a qualitative study based on semi-structured 

interviews carried out between 2011 and 2012 with Muslim women who wear the 

niqab. The research took place in Leicester. Specifically, the study comprised 60 

individual and 20 focus group interviews with veiled Muslim women who had 

experienced anti-Muslim hostility in public places. The topics covered in the 

interviews and focus groups included (a) nature and frequency of harassment; (b) 

impact of harassment on victims, their families, and wider communities; (c) women’s 

coping mechanisms; and (d) effectiveness of criminal justice responses to this 

problem. The interviews, undertaken by the second author, typically ranged from 1 to 

2 hours, with an average interview length of 1 hour. Participation in the study was 

voluntary. All the women who took part in the study wore the niqab at the time of 

fieldwork. There was no overlap between the women who participated in the 

interviews and in the focus groups. Of the 60 veiled Muslim women who took part in 

individual interviews,1 83% (n = 50) were born into Islam and 17% (10) had 

converted to Islam. The largest ethnic group of participants classified themselves as 



 

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Asian (Indian, Pakistani, Bangladeshi, and Asian other—70%, 42), followed by Black 

(either Black Caribbean, Black African, and Black Other—13%, eight), and White 

(British, Irish, and Other—17%, 10). The majority of participants had lived in 

Leicester for 5 years or more (67%, 40). 

Sampling  

Women were invited to participate in the study based on the premise they had 

experienced harassment in public. Using convenience sampling, prospective 

participants were identified through local Muslim organizations including mosques, 

Muslim schools, and Islamic centers, as well as local Muslim university student 

societies, and Muslim women’s groups. The study was advertised through these 

organizations, and women could contact the researcher (that is, the second author) 

directly to arrange for an interview (the researcher’s contact details were included in 

the call for participants) on the basis that they had experienced harassment in public. 

Prior to conducting the interviews, the researcher explained to prospective 

participants the scope of the study, that is, examining their experiences of 

harassment in public. Participants who had not experienced harassment in public 

would be excluded from the study; however, this was not the case as all the 

participants did report some form of harassment, whether anti-Muslim, racist, and/or 

misogynistic. 

An advantage of employing these organizations for participant recruitment was that 

individuals were introduced to the study by a familiar, trusted organization. This 

alleviated any concerns that participants might have had about taking part in the 

study, thus potentially increasing participation in the study. Participants unaffiliated to 

any local Muslim organizations or groups were also recruited through snowball 



 

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sampling. As with convenience sampling, snowball sampling is a type of 

nonprobability method, which is particularly appropriate when the population of 

interest is “hidden” or “hard to reach” and there is a lack of sampling frame of the 

target group (Patton, 1987). 

Individual interviews took place at women’s homes or at the university where the 

researcher was working at the time of the fieldwork. Conducting interviews at the 

university was offered as an alternative to participants who did not wish for the 

interview to take place at their home. The university was a safe, private location to 

conduct the interviews, for both the researcher and the participants (when arranging 

an interview at the university, a room was booked to ensure privacy and to minimize 

interruptions). Conducting interviews at women’s homes was useful for some 

participants as it minimized the inconvenience of leaving the house as some women 

had caring responsibilities of young children and/or elderly family members. 

However, some women chose the university as their preferred location for the 

interviews as they might not have been able to fully disclose their experiences of 

victimization if other family members were present in their home during the interview. 

Focus group interviews were conducted at local Muslim organizations such as 

mosques, Islamic centers, and Islamic educational institutions. The focus group 

participants were already at these premises for religious purposes such as praying 

and learning or teaching the Quran. Most groups were already established in certain 

classes, and participants either would take some time off their classes to participate 

in a focus group interview or would join in the next session as soon as they finished 

their activities. It is likely that participants felt comfortable and secure because they 

were interviewed in environments that they were mostly familiar with. This approach 

reinforced notions of good interview rapport and trusting relationships between the 



 

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researcher and the researched (Curtis & Curtis, 2011). It also encouraged openness 

and honesty from the women, particularly because of the sensitive nature of the 

discussion. 

Data analysis, authenticity and reflexivity  

With the exception of one individual, the rest of participants consented to their 

interviews being audio recorded, and the material was subsequently transcribed and 

analyzed using grounded theory (Glaser & Strauss, 1967). Grounded theory, which 

is based on an inductive approach, involves developing a “story” that emerges from 

the data. Within this framework, participants’ responses are construed as evidence 

of what they think and feel and how they interpret the social world (Glaser, 1992). In 

this case, verbatim transcripts are essential for grounded theory analysis as they 

capture information in participants’ own words, phrases, and expressions as well as 

providing “rich” detail. Within a grounded theory framework, the data were reviewed 

and coded to produce categories consistent with issues of thematic interest. Nvivo 9 

was used to code the data under broad themes of women’s victimization, and then 

patterns and subthemes were identified within broad themes such as the nature, 

frequency, and impact of victimization; women’s coping mechanisms; and prevention 

of victimization. 

As Payne (2004) points out, the terms and concepts used to demonstrate rigor in 

quantitative research—including reliability, validity, representativeness, 

generalizability, and objectivity—are problematic for qualitative research. Because 

most qualitative research methods of analysis are concerned with the interpretation 

of data and the researcher’s role in this is explicitly acknowledged, the dichotomy 

between subjectivity and objectivity is not supportable. Rather, qualitative 



 

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researchers must demonstrate the methodological rigor of their work, and be clear 

and explicit in the claims made when research is written up or presented. This 

indicates that researchers need to use reflexivity throughout the research process to 

recognize the potential influence of the researcher(s) on the research design, 

participant selection, as well as data collection and interpretation (Hennink, Hutter, & 

Bailey, 2011). 

Indeed, as an orthodox Christian female individual,3 the researcher was sometimes 

perceived as an “outsider” by her participants due to her religion. To gain an insider’s 

perspective, the researcher used different techniques such as using a 

semistructured interview guide to prompt the data collection; employing careful 

listening skills; establishing rapport and trust with participants; creating a safe, 

comfortable environment for participants; asking questions in an open, unthreatening 

way and in a friendly colloquial manner; showing empathy toward participants; and 

motivating them to tell their stories in detail by using probes. For example, asking 

questions in a nonthreatening, friendly way included framing questions in a manner 

that was nonleading, using neutral language (rather than using emotive language) 

and using open-ended questions. In addition, throughout the research cycle, the 

researcher asked for feedback from the participants, and received critical remarks on 

the research design, which were implemented, thus enhancing the quality of the 

study. For example, the researcher found that interview questions posed in a more 

academic language were not immediately understandable by some participants and, 

thus, she decided to pose questions in colloquial language. Amending the language 

of the questions posed was important to get an insight into participants’ perceptions, 

emotions, feelings, and beliefs, and, thus, truly understand their experiences. 

Other aspects of the researcher’s identity also contributed to her “outsider” status 



 

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such as her Western style of dress. In this case, the leaders of the mosques, Muslim 

schools, and Islamic community centers (that the researcher visited to conduct the 

focus group interviews) advised her to dress and behave in a religiously and 

culturally appropriate manner when visiting these places. For example, the 

researcher was asked to dress modestly, including wearing a long loose dress 

(preferably black) and covering her hair with a hijab (headscarf) when conducting 

focus group sessions at mosques. The fact that the researcher conformed to this 

advice eased access to participants, and helped to develop trust and rapport with 

them. As Zubair, Martin, and Victor (2012) point out, researchers’ bodily 

appearances and bodily actions, adaptations, and interactions are important markers 

of their identity in the fieldwork. Okely (2007) suggests that researchers often have to 

learn to adapt their bodily performances and actions—including the way they dress—

to fit in with, and be accepted among, those they are researching, especially when 

they are closely scrutinized and instructed. This demonstrates the important role the 

researcher’s body and behavior may play in developing (or hindering the 

development of) trust and rapport with participants. This discussion shows that 

research design needs to take into account the religious and cultural context of the 

community. Awareness of cultural and religious norms is vital for negotiating 

insider/outsider dynamics through showing respect for participants’ culture and 

religion. 

 

Street harassment 

Nature and extent  



 

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All the participants reported feeling unsafe in public spaces because of concerns that 

they were likely to be approached, intimidated, threatened, or attacked. Such 

concerns were based on previous experiences ranging from verbal and nonverbal 

street remarks to serious incidents of stalking and physical assaults. In particular, 

participants experienced verbal and nonverbal sexual harassment in public spaces. 

Participants reported that unknown men on the street made sexual comments and/or 

sexual noises at them (often accompanied by sexual gestures). In some cases, 

individuals asked them questions about their sexual life and/or their sexuality. Also, 

participants were subjected to wolf whistling, catcalling, and sexist jokes. 

The visibility of the niqab confounds public norms, partly because of the niqab’s 

message of sexual unavailability (Zempi & Chakraborti, 2014). This symbolism 

brings the veiled Muslim woman very visibly into the public sphere where she simply 

cannot walk by unnoticed. In this context, the niqab symbolizes the sexual 

“nonavailability” of Muslim women. As a result, men may find it difficult to forgive 

those who “disrupt” the “pattern of the masculine gaze” (Franks, 2000). 

Correspondingly, unknown men on the street often “demanded” that participants 

unveiled themselves by taking the niqab off, as indicated in the comments below. 

I want to cut that black thing off your face! (Halimah) 

Show me what you’re wearing under there! (Ruqiia) 

Give us a flash! (Alima) 

In the eyes of their harassers, veiled Muslim women participated in the public sphere 

to entertain and please men (Kissling & Kramarae, 1991). This led to participants 

feeling objectified and reduced to their body parts. As Kissling (1991) points out, 



 

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street harassment remarks often refer to parts of the body not available for public 

examination. Accordingly, participants were sometimes “challenged” by unknown 

men walking by on the street, who often assumed that women wore the niqab 

because they were “ugly,” as the following quotes demonstrate. 

What’s that on your face? Why are you covering it? (Sarah) 

Why do you have a mask on? Are you really ugly under there? (Focus group 

participant) 

If participants were traveling with their children, it was also common for unknown 

individuals to make comments such as, “Why are you covered up and your children 

are not covered up?” 

Performance of Gender 

Participants felt that performing gender inappropriately was key to triggering such 

comments, as indicated in the following focus group discussion. 

Participant A: 

We are very different to the average non-Muslim woman. We are doing everything 

that the media tells us we shouldn’t be doing in terms of how women should dress 

and behave. 

Participant B: 

In Western societies men are used to seeing women in all their glory really, aren’t 

they? I think men appreciate the fact that they can see a woman’s face and that they 

can see her figure. They probably feel deprived of this opportunity because they 



 

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can’t assess a Muslim woman in the same way that they can assess a Christian, 

Sikh or Hindu woman. 

Participant C: 

They just don’t want this image [of the veiled Muslim woman] to be out there 

because that image is not “pleasant” to the Western world, that image is not a 

symbol of the sexual exploitation of women. 

Participants also argued that performing gender “inappropriately” coupled with 

practicing Islam as pious Muslim women was seen as a symbol of segregation and 

unwillingness to “integrate” into British society. To this end, street harassers 

“punished” veiled Muslim women for their deviant behavior and assumed that veiling 

represented a rejection of Western values. It would be interesting to explore in a 

further study the extent to which other Muslim women experience this perception. 

Relatedly, this issue was debated in a focus group interview at an Islamic center. 

Participant A: 

If they get rid of Muslims then they will have a white Christian England. 

Participant B: 

I don’t think it is about being Christian. I think it’s about being like them. Hindu and 

Sikhs are brown. They are Asians but they drink, they go clubbing, women wear 

short skirts. They’ll do everything like them. It’s about socialising so they feel more 

integrated with them. They feel they are the same. 

Participant C: 



 

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You’re right, especially the drinking thing kind of unites them. They think “We might 

be different colours but we are the same, we drink, we club, we dress the same, we 

are mixing” but we as Muslims don’t do what they do. We dress differently. We say 

no to drinking. We won’t go clubbing. Yeah there are Muslims that do go but 

generally you won’t see that many Muslims going to clubs. Even if they go, you can’t 

tell that they are Muslim. Even we as Muslims can’t recognise them. If someone is 

not dressed as a Muslim you can’t tell if they are Muslim or not. 

In their research with veiled Muslim women, both Bullock (2002) and Abu-Lughod 

(2013) highlight Muslim women’s perceptions of the hijab and/or niqab as a form of 

emancipation and agency. Bullock (2002) states that Muslim women “whose 

grandmothers and mothers may have fought to uncover, started wearing the hijab 

and niqab” (p. 85). However, although freedom of choice and individual agency are 

among the most cherished values in contemporary Western societies, the woman 

who freely chooses to wear the niqab often provokes public hostility (Zempi & 

Chakraborti, 2014). The “refusal” of veiled Muslim women to conform to the 

expectation of being “the object of the gaze” constitutes a disruption of power 

relations in the public sphere. In this context, veiled Muslim women’s bodies become 

a medium on which to inscribe hostility and enmity (Perry, 2014). And, the body is, in 

the words of Eisenstein (2006), “a horribly powerful resource for those who wish to 

conquer, violate, humiliate, and shame” (p. 186). Like many women of color, Muslim 

women are sexualized, such that they are reduced to their bodies (Perry, 2014). This 

reflects a familiar dichotomy that characterizes their perceived identities. For White 

women, there is the Madonna/whore duality; for Black women, there is the Jezebel 

and Mammy distinction; whereas, for Muslim women, there is distinction between the 



 

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sexual belly dancer and the oppressed woman who is in need of saving (Perry, 

2014). 

Furthermore, participants reported being subjected to name-calling, which would be 

difficult to define as sexual harassment per se; yet, this type of harassment is part of 

some Muslim women’s lived experiences of wearing the niqab in public places in the 

United Kingdom. To illustrate this, participants reported being used as a form of 

“entertainment.” For example, they were called names such as “Ninja,” “Catwoman,” 

“Batman,” “Darth Vader,” “Ghost woman,” “Bin bag,” “Letterbox,” “Postbox,” “Witch,” 

and “Walking Coffin.” Moreover, participants noted that they had been subjected to 

swearing such as “Fucking freak,” “Muslim bitch,” and “Muslim whore.” In addition, a 

couple of participants reported that people on the street sometimes took 

photographs of them (without asking their permission), whereas others revealed that 

they had been followed and/or stalked, illustrations of which are presented below. 

I was walking on the street [in London] and this guy was following me. He was 

saying “Come on show me your face, show me your face” and after a few streets I 

took my niqab off and showed him my face. I was so scared that I took it off. After a 

couple of streets down I put it back on again. (Salimah) 

I was walking in town [Leicester city centre] and this man followed me home. He saw 

I was a single woman in the house with a child. I didn’t have money to buy the 

curtains. He used to come and knock on the door. I told the Council what was going 

on and they gave me a house in another estate. (Johara) 

The Niqab as a Terrorist “Threat” 



 

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Veiled Muslim women not only are characterized as exotic and/or as oppressed but 

also are represented as mysterious, dangerous, and threatening (Perry, 2014). To 

this end, veiled Muslim women are perceived as “agents” of terrorism or as tools of 

Islamist terrorism aiming to infiltrate the West (Freedman, 2007). Participants were 

often perceived as a security or terrorist “threat.” In some cases, they were being 

called names such as “mothers of suicide bombers.” Also, the following comments 

demonstrate that veiling was perceived as a camouflage for a terrorist. 

Are you carrying belts full of explosives? (Jahidah) 

When are you going to blow us up? (Shelina) 

Why are you dressed like that? Are you a suicide bomber? (Amtullah) 

Physical Harm 

A minority of participants were victims of serious physical harm. They reported being 

pushed, slapped, spat at, shoved or had their niqabs pulled off by unknown men on 

the street. In some cases, they had things thrown at them (such as alcohol, water 

bombs, bottles, eggs, take-away food, rubbish, and stones) or they had a weapon 

(such as a knife) being used against them. Such incidents were demonstrated in 

Armstrong’s (2016) study of sex workers, which found that while they experienced 

the common forms of “low level” street harassment, they were more vulnerable to 

escalating abuse, which had more “sinister undertones” (p. 292). Armstrong’s 

research has connections with the current study because it also features women 

facing specific forms of street harassment because of what they represent. They 

share experiences of hostility and dehumanization as well as being at risk when in 

certain public spaces. Participants in the present study also reported incidents where 



 

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passing vehicles attempted to run them over. These findings show very strong 

similarities with qualitative research into the experiences of Muslim women who wear 

the niqab in other European countries, namely, Belgium, Denmark, France, and the 

Netherlands (Brems, 2014). For example, veiled Muslim women in the Netherlands 

reported regularly being confronted with people who scolded, insulted, or spat at 

them (Moors, 2009, 2014). Echoing these experiences, veiled Muslim women in 

France described a stream of violent insults in public places including being violently 

pushed, spat on, and having their niqab pulled off (Bouteldja, 2011). 

Participants noted that the typical perpetrator was male (and unknown to them). 

Specifically, participants’ accounts suggested that perpetrators were usually White 

men, aged between 16 and 25 years. However, participants argued that they were 

sometimes targeted by members of ethnic and racial minorities (including EU 

nationals) as well as from fellow Muslims. In the latter case, the abuse came from 

members of the Muslim community, who were “Westernized” or “nonpracticing” 

Muslims. However, it is important to note that Muslim women who do not veil are 

also subject to discrimination on the streets (Zempi & Chakraborti, 2014). In very few 

cases, where street harassers were female, this involved cases of verbal abuse and 

name-calling rather than physical violence or stalking. For Davis (1994), although 

women can and do in fact make comments to other women, a qualitative difference 

exists; women’s comments directed toward other women are not situated in the 

same place of power as are men’s comments. However, they do demonstrate an 

interesting perception of veiled Muslim women as performing gender differently and, 

perhaps, in a way that some female perpetrators do not like. The same situation was 

found in Armstrong’s (2016) study where sex workers reported some attacks from 

women, which might be evidence of an internalized misogyny and also a public 



 

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scolding of them “for stepping outside of the boundaries of acceptable female 

behavior” (p. 291). 

Finally, it is important to point out that such experiences were not one-off, discrete, 

or isolated incidents; rather, they were part of a process of being targeted in public. 

Relatedly, very few participants reported these experiences to the police. 

Participants gave a range of reasons for not reporting but the most popular reason 

was that they did not think it was serious enough to report. This was followed by 

concerns about being blamed and feeling ashamed/embarrassed about what had 

happened to them. Finally, some participants did not think that what had happened 

to them could be classed as a crime per se. Similarly, Larkin (1997) found that 

everyday incidents of street harassment were so normalized that they were rarely 

seen as “harassment.” Vera-Gray (2016) highlights the limitations of criminalizing 

behaviors that are extensions of commonly accepted gender relations. 

Street harassment: Impacts   

Geography and boundaries of safety  

The most significant impact on the lives of veiled Muslim women in the research was 

the increased level of fear or vulnerability that they felt. Sometimes, this fear would 

happen before even leaving the home and in the anticipation of going outside. Such 

experiences concur with other academic studies on street harassment, for example, 

the work of Ilahi who noted that the women described having to “psychologically 

prepare yourself to go out and run a simple errand” (Ilahi, 2009, p. 62). This level of 

preparation was commonly noted among participants in this study, who would 

evaluate the likelihood of attack based on a number of factors. Many identified that 

being in a non-Muslim area might make them more likely to be targeted because of 



 

 21 

their visibility as practicing Muslim women. Some felt safer nearer home, although 

this depended upon previous experience of localized harassment. For example, one 

focus group participant noted that she had experienced criminal damage of her 

home and also threats of eggs being thrown at her when she left the house. So, for 

her, the immediate area surrounding her home was where she felt less safe. 

This awareness of geography and boundaries of safety has much in common with 

wider experiences of street harassment. Ilahi describes this as a “discursive 

negotiation” of urban space and this has the effect of excluding women from certain 

public spaces or at least impinging upon their free movement (Ilahi, 2009, p. 56). 

According to Davis (1994), street harassment genderizes the street by 

institutionalizing male privilege in, and “ownership” of, the public street, thereby 

excluding women. From this perspective, street harassment allows men to establish 

the boundaries that define women’s participation in the street. As such, street 

harassment excludes women by demarcating the street as “male space,” which 

maintains and perpetuates the public/private distinction in a gendered form (Davis, 

1994). Bowman (1993) notes that street harassers create a hostile environment on 

the street, implicitly informing their targets that they are not “welcome.” From this 

perspective, to be a woman in public is to be available for men’s comments. 

Street harassment genderizes the street by distributing power in such a way that 

perpetuates and reinforces the gender hierarchy (MacKinnon, 1987). In light of this, 

the psychological pressures of running even a simple errand were significant (Ilahi, 

2009). The participants in this study took safety seriously, but not only because of 

the fear of attack. A number of women felt that it was a central part of their religion. 

In one focus group, it was noted that “In Islam you have to look after yourself” and 

that “In our religion, we are supposed to keep ourselves safe.” This imperative 



 

 22 

placed added pressure on the women as they weighed up how they might negotiate 

safe areas while honoring the tenets of their faith. 

Sexual Terrorism 

The findings show that street harassment produced an environment of sexual 

terrorism. This refers not only to the visibility of the Muslim woman wearing a niqab 

but also about perceived issues of vulnerability that women generally might possess. 

These perceptions were often connected to their feeling that attacking or removing 

the niqab was a form of sexual assault. As Maha notes, 

Taking the veil off is equal to rape really. I was walking down the street in the local 

area [Highfields, Leicester] and there were three white men in their early 20s. They 

took my niqab off from behind. I tried to conceal my face with my scarf and then 

when I tried to retrieve my niqab they wanted to take a look at me. They bent down 

to see what I looked like and then they chucked it on the floor. 

It is important to recognize that street harassment mirrors a larger system of sexual 

terrorism. Kissling (1991) defines sexual terrorism as a “system by which males 

frighten and, through fear, control and dominate females” (p. 456). As Davis (1994) 

points out, recognizing street harassment’s role in sexual terrorism is crucial to 

understanding its potential to harm. From this perspective, street harassment 

provokes in women a fear of rape, acting as a salient warning of the omnipresent 

threat of physical and/or sexual violence (Kissling, 1991). Regardless of whether 

there is the possibility of actual rape, street harassment reminds women of their 

vulnerability to sexual violence in general, and intensifies the fear of the possibility of 

rape (Davis, 1994). As a precursor to rape and an escalator of the fear of rape, street 



 

 23 

harassment entraps women in a sexually terroristic environment (Davis, 1994). Iman 

concurred, suggesting that 

Although I don’t have any bruises to show from the assault, I am damaged and 

harmed inside as if I have been sexually assaulted. 

These comments demonstrate how important an intersectional understanding of 

women’s experiences is. In his study of Black lesbian experiences of street 

harassment, Fogg-Davis (2006) observes that street harassment, like rape, is about 

asserting male dominance over women in “situations where women appear 

vulnerable” (p. 65) and that it indicates an imbalance of power, which is “connected 

to systems of patriarchy, racism and homophobia” (Fogg-Davis, 2006, p. 74). For the 

women in the present study, the forced removal of the niqab was often tied to male 

entitlement—or the perpetrator’s frustration at the inability to visualize the female 

body. As mentioned earlier, participants spoke of men demanding “show me your 

face,” “give us a flash,” or “show me what you’re wearing under there.” Bowman 

(1993) writes that such invasions are like a rape, where someone is forced into your 

private space. Comments were often accompanied by catcalls, wolf whistles, and 

sexual noises. These inherently sexual and misogynistic incidents when 

accompanied by a physical removal of clothing demonstrate the intersections of 

religion and gender in the experiences of veiled Muslim women. As Fogg-Davis 

(2006) also notes, this simultaneous embodiment can mean that women are 

between categories of religion and gender and the complex psychological impacts 

are rarely attended to in policy or practice. We would suggest that the gendered 

nature of much hate crime is often overlooked by policy makers and practitioners, 

meaning that the nuances of the victim experience and their relative impacts can be 

missed. 



 

 24 

Street harassment: Strategies 

Safety work 

In classic studies of street harassment, scholars have noted the myriad strategies 

that women employ in their attempts to avoid being victimized. Liz Kelly (1988) 

coined the phrase “safety work” to describe the preparations and coping strategies 

that all women employ when negotiating public space. Our participants invested 

considerable thought into their geographic movements. This was partly based on 

previous experience, demonstrating again how women bring their biographic 

experiences to their current fears of street harassment. Some participants decided to 

drive or take a bus or taxi (instead of walking) to avoid street harassment. In some 

cases, participants changed traveling routes and made decisions not to venture into 

the public on certain days/times. Some participants chose not to go out at all. 

The women interviewed for this research expressed strongly how their sense of 

identity was harmed not just by the incidents but by feeling compelled to unveil 

themselves. This had a very real impact on many women’s sense of self and identity. 

For example, a participant who advised her daughter not to wear the niqab on a trip 

to Paris said that it made her daughter “feel bad.” Another noted that the niqab is 

supposed to be a symbol of protection, but ironically to protect herself, she 

sometimes removed it. Participants did feel that they had committed a “sin,” which 

increased their feeling of self-blame and guilt. Tashia said, 

Since I took it off, it feels like I’ve committed a really big sin . . . I should have fought 

back, I shouldn’t have removed it. 



 

 25 

As Laniya (2005) points out, a member of a minority group that is consistently 

marginalized, blamed, and victimized may be more likely to attribute the occurrence 

of street harassment to herself and see herself as the cause of such harm. Thus, this 

woman may internalize the blame that a dominant group has placed on her. When a 

person blames herself, she is less likely to identify an experience as injurious, and 

even if she does recognize the experience as injurious, she is less likely to 

externalize the harm and blame someone other than herself (Laniya, 2005). That 

stated, some participants felt judged from within their community for deciding to take 

it off as a safety measure. Yara expressed this sentiment: 

The ladies who wore niqabs were quite horrible to me. They judged me for taking it 

off. They said, “Oh that’s come off, so does that mean that everything else is coming 

off?” 

Such a sense of shame or lack of community support is not uncommon from women 

who alter their clothing to avoid street harassment. They too might feel a sense of 

letting their Muslim sisters down, or of being judged by others. As Bowman (1993) 

writes, the intent of street harassment is to remind women of their gender identity 

and this is achieved by teaching women to “associate their bodies with shame, fear 

and humiliation” (p. 541). For Muslim women, this is tied to decisions over where and 

when to wear the niqab, and what response this might glean from members of the 

public, their own family, or community. As such, it adds layers of complexity to their 

harm. As Ilahi (2009) has suggested, their social positions are interwoven into their 

experiences of negotiating public space. 

Managing Presentation of Self 



 

 26 

Other strategies employed by participants included altering the niqab to manage the 

presentation of self. One focus group participant suggested that she would use a 

range of colors and sizes in her niqabs, so as not to appear “too black in the face.” 

Another said that she would use color because it looked “more friendly” and less 

“hostile.” In this regard, they were grappling with concerns not only over their desire 

to veil but also to avoid being attacked. For Davis (1994), street harassment forces 

women to alter their behavior, thus further oppressing women by denying them the 

opportunity to make an authentic choice of self. The denial of a woman’s “authentic 

choice of self” by externally imposing on her the conditions in which she lives is also 

perpetuated by the existence of stereotypes. For some White British Muslims, they 

would in fact cover more of their body to avoid being perceived as a “traitor” for 

supposedly “betraying” British values and Christianity by converting to Islam. Some 

participants noted that they would wear an additional eye veil and/or gloves to cover 

the color of their skin. 

A common practice among participants was to ignore, or pretend not to hear, a street 

harasser’s comments. Specifically, some participants, especially the young women 

who took part in the research, wore headphones to avoid hearing these comments. 

But as Davis (1994) points out, normally, when people talk to you, you do not ignore 

them. Thus, street harassment forces women to act in ways they would not 

otherwise act. Street harassment does not allow women to be themselves and to 

enjoy even the basic pleasures of everyday life (Rushin, 1983). A further strategy 

employed by many participants was the use of a male companion when in a public 

space. Griffin (1971) describes this as a “male protection racket,” with Bowman 

(1993) concurring that women are often actively encouraged to seek a male escort 

when moving about in public spaces. Our participants certainly demonstrated this, 



 

 27 

with some saying “I never go to town alone” or “I prefer my husband to be with me” 

and “I don’t think I would go anywhere without my husband.” However, in some 

situations, this would exacerbate the abuse, especially if their husband was visibly 

Muslim, for example, by wearing a beard, Islamic cap, and jubba (Islamic dress for 

men). This need for a male companion has negative repercussions, in that it limits 

freedom of movement. One participant noted “I have to wait for my husband to come 

home from work to go somewhere.” Another expressed this feeling of “imprisonment” 

in the starkest terms: 

It feels like we are under house arrest. People have locked us up without realising it. 

Another participant now has agoraphobia, and so does not leave the house. What 

was evident was the acute irony of the situation. As one noted, 

People are being hypocritical in their argument that women in veil are oppressed 

because they oppress us. We are stuck at home all day. 

This theme of “imprisonment” is commonplace in literature on the impact of street 

harassment. Bowman describes this as the ghettoization of women that effectively 

confines women to the “private sphere of hearth and home” (Bowman, 1993, p. 520). 

Street harassment excludes women from public space, which they are entitled to 

share with men as equal citizens of the state (Laniya, 2005). As mentioned earlier, 

public places are designated as male space, and women must negotiate the terms 

and conditions upon which they may enter these spaces. This means that street 

harassment infringes upon the rights of veiled Muslim women as citizens in the 

United Kingdom. To escape harassment, they often must travel with a male 

companion or in groups; this restricts a woman’s autonomy by limiting her ability to 



 

 28 

go to a place by herself if she so desires and further reaffirms the notion that men 

control women’s “rights to passage through public space” (Bowman, 1993, p. 30). 

Oppression is the “absence of choices”; street harassment oppresses veiled Muslim 

women by restricting their physical and geographical mobility, thereby denying them 

a right guaranteed to all citizens—the freedom of movement, a fundamental liberty of 

freedom (Bowman, 1993). Indeed, a fundamental aspect of liberty is mobility; yet, 

free exercise of mobility is denied to veiled Muslim women. This also harms them 

economically because it dissuades them from venturing into occupations that require 

them to work outside (Laniya, 2005). It also forces behavioral change and reduces 

women’s quality of life. Kissling (1991) argues that this is in fact the goal of street 

harassment, in that it acts as a form of social control. We would suggest that it acts 

on a number of levels. First, Muslim women think about modifying their clothing in 

public because they might want to feel that they “belong,” not just avoid being 

attacked. One participant discussed how her family disproves of the niqab anyway, 

and so, she did not wear it when visiting them because she did not want to be an 

outcast everywhere. In this sense, the home might not be a place where the women 

are not judged or harassed because family might reinforce the public negative views 

of the niqab. So they feel a double sense of judgment as Muslim women. 

Furthermore, their recourse to go out with a male companion not only makes them 

reliant on men but also does not always mean that they will not face abuse. If the 

man is wearing a traditional Islamic dress, then they might still face abuse. So the 

social control that is experienced by Muslim women exists along misogynistic and 

Islamophobic lines. As Neilsen has observed, members of different groups and 

backgrounds “face a strikingly different reality on the street than do members of 

privileged groups” (Neilsen, 2002, p. 279). As such, they have to “prioritise social 



 

 29 

identities that are integral to their self-concepts and life experience” (Fogg-Davis, 

2006, p. 59). 

Concluding thoughts – What next? 

The preceding discussion shows how street harassment, a seemingly “invisible” 

harm, hinders veiled Muslim women’s mobility, infringes on their access to public 

spaces, and even forces them to alter their behavior. To this end, veiled Muslim 

women feel excluded, dominated, oppressed, and violated. Acting as “public 

gatekeepers,” men establish the rules of veiled Muslim women’s participation in the 

public sphere, which further genderizes the street. In this respect, street harassment 

“punishes” veiled Muslim women who participate in the street for not performing 

gender appropriately. Typically, most men view the occurrence as harmless and 

even desired by women, whereas most women resign themselves to the inevitability 

of the acts and the absence of a vehicle to remedy such harm (Laniya, 2005). 

Nevertheless, there is potentially hope to address this problem. Policy has an 

important role to play in tackling street harassment. Nottinghamshire Police became 

recently the first force in the country to record harassment of women as a hate crime 

to tackle misogyny and street harassment. Since then, three police forces have 

agreed to begin recording misogyny as a hate crime and a number of other forces 

are looking into this. The video, Because I Am A Woman, which was launched by 

Nottingham Women’s Center and Nottinghamshire Police, includes testimony from 

Muslim women about their experiences of street harassment and has been used to 

raise awareness and as a training aid. There is now an emerging body of academic 

research that points toward the importance of recognizing intersectionality and 

multiple oppressions in victim experiences of hate crime (Zempi & Chakraborti, 

2014). It is crucial that research that engages with the lived experience of 

intersectionality and street harassment continues. 

However, policy and research alone can only do so much to challenge Islamophobia 

and misogyny. It is crucial that continuing efforts include the involvement of Muslim 

women themselves and are culturally appropriate and sensitive. As Strid, Walby, and 

Armstrong (2013) note, multiple inequalities are only made more visible when 

minoritized women are involved in the policy-making process. This means 



 

 30 

government and policy officials engaging with women themselves and for local 

community-based organizations to have a voice. Therefore, it is vital that policy 

makers and practitioners do not further the “othering” of Muslim women, but instead 

ensure their involvement at every stage. Future research should further examine the 

intersectionality between misogyny and Islamophobia, and inform policy accordingly. 

 

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