Meet the speakers: ”Hijab bans are not neutral and disproportionally affect Muslim women in sports" 

Why did you decide to investigate hijab bans in sports?

The motivation to investigate this topic is deeply personal. As a Muslim woman from a minority tribe in Kenya, raised in the conservative coastal town of Mombasa, I understand intimately what it means to stand at the margins.

I come from a community where girls who wear the hijab are often discouraged, both explicitly and implicitly, from participating in sports. Our presence was frequently met with scepticism, our attire was perceived as incompatible with athleticism, and our aspirations were curtailed by both cultural expectations and institutional barriers.

Yet, I chose to challenge that narrative. I broke through cultural and structural limitations to become one of the few Muslim women from my background to lead in sports law and human rights advocacy. 

This journey has been fraught with resistance. I have had to constantly navigate stereotypes, exclusion, and doubt. But these very challenges strengthened my resolve—not just to create space for myself, but to ensure others like me could belong, visibly and confidently.

One of the earliest and most personal struggles I faced was something seemingly simple, what to wear. As a young athlete, there were no sports hijabs available to me. The mainstream sportswear market hadn’t yet acknowledged Muslim women, and options like the Nike Pro Hijab were either not yet developed or entirely unaffordable for someone like me. 

I had to improvise, often with attire that was neither sport-friendly nor entirely acceptable within my community. This constant negotiation between modesty and mobility, identity and performance, was a daily reality. It affected not only how I moved but also how I was perceived and included in sports spaces.

When France enacted its hijab ban in sport ahead of the 2024 Paris Olympics, I saw in it a reflection of the same forces I had faced growing up. Exclusion was dressed up as “neutrality”, and laws demanded that women strip themselves of their identity to belong.

I was compelled to critically interrogate how secularism, policy, and power intersect to restrict the agency of Muslim women in sport. So, this study is both an act of resistance and an affirmation: of the right to compete, to lead, and to exist, fully, unapologetically, and without compromise to faith, identity, or dignity.

What are the most important findings of your study?

• Hijab bans are not neutral: They are framed as safety, uniformity, or secularism measures, but disproportionately affect Muslim women, exposing embedded gendered Islamophobia.
• France’s approach is institutionally entrenched: Unlike other countries, France has legalised the exclusion of hijab-wearing athletes across educational, public service, and sports spaces, reflecting a sustained, state-driven secularist agenda.
• Laïcité has become a tool of exclusion: Instead of promoting religious freedom, the principle is now used to silence expressions of Muslim identity, particularly visible ones like the hijab.
• Lived experiences tell a story of trauma and resilience: Athletes such as Founé Diawara, Karthoum Dembelé, and Hélène Bâ have faced humiliation and disqualification, not for breaking rules, but for staying true to their faith.
• International law and sports governance are falling short: Despite protections under the ICCPR, CEDAW, and the Olympic Charter, gaps persist in enforcement and compliance, especially at national federation levels.
• Solutions exist: Countries like Canada demonstrate that inclusive policy, grassroots empowerment, and respect for diversity can coexist with athletic excellence.

Is the hijab ban in sport a global challenge or primarily a national issue in France?

It is both. The hijab ban in sport is a global challenge rooted in Islamophobia, gendered orientalism, and the racialisation of Muslim women. However, France stands out as the most institutionalised and ideologically driven example.

The French state has embedded laïcité into its legal framework in a way that systematically targets Muslim women, from schools to courts, and now to sports fields.

Similar dynamics exist globally, such as school bans in India or waiver requirements in the U.S., but France is unique in codifying these restrictions and exporting a model of exclusion under the pretence of neutrality. It reveals how national identity politics, post-colonial anxieties, and gender norms converge to make hijab bans a national obsession, but with global implications.

The French authorities have argued that a secular ban on all religious symbols in sport is necessary to avoid separatism and ensure law and order. Is this not a legitimate political argument?

This argument may appear legitimate on the surface, but it fails under scrutiny. International human rights law requires that any limitation on freedom of religion or expression must be necessary, proportionate, and non-discriminatory. The hijab poses no threat to public order or law enforcement. There is no credible evidence that its presence on the field incites violence or fosters separatism.

Instead, this line of reasoning reveals the weaponisation of secularism, where laïcité is no longer about the neutrality of the state but the invisibility of the citizen. This undermines not only the spirit of democracy but also violates obligations under treaties such as the ICCPR and CEDAW. True cohesion comes not from erasure of identity, but from respectful accommodation of diversity.

Rule 50 of the Olympic Charter prohibits religious propaganda.  Why should the hijab and other religious garments be exempt from this rule?

Because wearing a hijab is not propaganda. Rule 50 is designed to prevent coercive or disruptive acts of political or religious messaging during Olympic events. The hijab, by contrast, is a personal expression of faith and identity, not a campaign or call to conversion.

The IOC has recognised this nuance and explicitly permits religious attire during competition, as long as it does not compromise safety. To categorise the hijab as propaganda is to misunderstand and misapply the Olympic charter, and, more critically, to trample on the right to religious expression protected under international human rights law. Religious garments worn for personal reasons should not be treated as political acts.

Why is banning all religious clothing in public sports venues apparently a bigger problem for Muslims than for other religious groups such as Christians, Jews, Hindus, Buddhists and Sikhs?

Muslim women are uniquely impacted due to the visible, daily, and gendered nature of the hijab. While other religions may have symbolic attire, the hijab is often misunderstood, politicised, and racialised in ways that target Muslim women as threats to secularism or gender equality.

In France, for example, hijabs are banned, but crosses are tolerated. The reality is that these policies disproportionately affect women who wear the hijab and are racialised as Arab or North African. The intersection of race, gender, and religion makes Muslim women more vulnerable to exclusion, both institutionally and culturally.

Is there a solution to this challenge that takes equal account of conflicting interests within religion, gender, politics and sport?

Yes. The solution must be intersectional, rights-based, and inclusive. Key recommendations include:

• Inclusive uniform policies: Align national sport federations with international standards that allow religious attire within reasonable safety guidelines (e.g. FIFA, FIBA, IOC rules).
• Participatory governance: Policies should be co-developed with affected athletes, not imposed from above. Muslim women must be at the table.
• Legal harmonisation: National laws must comply with global commitments under human rights treaties. The rights to religious freedom and gender equality cannot be mutually exclusive.
• Adopt model practices: Countries like Canada offer examples where inclusive policies, grassroots organisations, and representation in governance help create safer and more diverse sporting environments.
• Decolonise sporting institutions: Recognise that current uniform standards and governance models are based on Eurocentric ideals. It’s time to diversify leadership, democratise policy making, and promote narratives of belonging.

Sport has the power to unite, but only when everyone is allowed to show up as their full selves. Muslim women should not have to choose between faith and participation. A just sporting world is one where diversity is not only tolerated but celebrated.