Bridging Kant and Hijab
From modesty to moral autonomy
To my father, my mother, and my brother — whose steadfast presence and principled lives have exemplified the very essence of moral strength. In a world often clouded by compromise, they have remained beacons of conviction and integrity. This article is, in no small measure, shaped by their unwavering encouragement and the ethical clarity they inspire in me every day.
The rational will, towards dignity and ethical presence
Morality comes from autonomous, rational will — we must choose moral principles ourselves through reason. It is the use of rational thought to determine what we ought to do, not just what we want to do. For Kant, being moral is not about feelings, emotions, or consequences — it is about acting out of rational duty.
In simple terms, Kant is saying “You are a rational being. That means you can figure out, through reason, what is right and wrong. And once you know what is right, you have a duty to do it — because it’s the rational, moral thing to do.”
According to Kant, morality isn’t exactly innate in the way we might think of instincts or natural impulses — but we do have an innate capacity for morality because we are rational beings. He believed that every rational person has access to the moral law through practical reason.
“Two things fill the mind with ever new and increasing admiration and awe… the starry heavens above me and the moral law within me.” (Kant)
“The strongest of all soldiers of God is ‘aql, and the strongest soldier of Satan is hawa”. (Imam Ali a.s)
The aql (intellect) is a central tool in approaching moral truth. According to Islam as well, the human being is honoured by reason and choice, and held accountable through them. There is a strong emphasis on the fitrah — the innate moral nature created by God. According to the Quran and Shia theology, human beings have an inner sense of right and wrong. The conscience (dhamir/wajdan) in Shia ethics mirrors Kant’s concept of the inner moral law. Morality is not about emotions or outcomes; it’s about doing what is right, purely out of duty.
Imam ja’far al-Sadiq a.s wrote: “Action without pure intention is a like a traveller who carries sand instead of food — he only burdens himself.”
The quote of Imam Ali a.s, “that which you dislike for yourself, do not do to others,” is functionally Kantian — asking whether your actions can be consistently applied to everyone, without exception.
In Islam, hijab is not just a piece of clothing — it is a moral, spiritual and social concept rooted in:
- Modesty (Haya’)
- Dignity
- Respect for self and others
- Avoiding objectification
Kantian support for modesty: means, end and moral universality
From a Kantian lens, reducing a person to their appearance or sexuality treats them as a means to visual pleasure, not as a rational being. Modesty (including hijab) can be understood as reclaiming dignity, refusing to be objectified or reduced to a body. The transformative spiritual and ethical power of hijab, not only for the women who wear it, but for the moral atmosphere of society, consists in how men perceive, think and act, by creating an ethically regulated space where desire is not constantly inflamed and men are challenged to engage with women intellectually and respectfully, rather than visually.
Hijab establishes psychological peace, order over chaos, tranquillity over temptation. Kant believed that giving in to sensual desire — especially in how we look at or think of others — degrades both oneself and the other. Hijab functions as a visible form of duty — it orients both men and women towards respect, not consumption. Hijab shapes the moral and emotional climate of the family unit and the broader society; it anchors marital relationships in loyalty, emotional intimacy and inner beauty, not outward comparison. Healing a society that is morally fragmented, both hijab and Kantian ethics offer powerful frameworks for rebuilding moral harmony, dignity and trust — not just at an individual level, but across families and communities.
A commonly heard argument today is “there should be hijab of the heart.” But if God intended only “modesty of the heart,” why would he lay down specific guidelines for a physical dress? This argument subtly suggests that God missed something or that people understand modesty better than revelation — which is an arrogant and deeply flawed intellectual stance. Kant would argue: moral intention matters but so do the visible actions that affect others. You can’t say “respect people in your heart,” while acting in a way that objectifies yourself or invites unethical attention. Kant’s central ethical principle is: “Act only according to that maxim whereby you can at the same time will that it should become a universal law.” This means that modesty, if valued truly, must be valued not just for oneself, but as a moral universal. By contrast, if one tolerates immodesty in the name of individual freedom while praising modesty privately, one fails Kant’s test of moral consistency.
Imam Hussain (a) is reported to have said: “If you wish to know the modesty of a man, observe the hijab of his daughters and his sister.”
Modesty is not an isolated virtue, but one that manifests in the collective moral space a person nurtures. In Shia metaphysics, a truly modest soul naturally radiates an aura of dignity and boundaries — just as a morally grounded man inspires the women in his family to embody those same values, not through coercion, but through spiritual resonance.
The queen bee and the sanctity of sacred access: a natural metaphor
In the natural world, we find a striking parallel to the spiritual ethic of modesty in the social structure of a beehive. The queen bee, far from being hidden out of fragility, is veiled by exclusivity because of her central role in the life of the hive. She is approached only by those who serve a specific, life-sustaining function, and her presence is marked by reverence and order, not exposure. This is not concealment for concealment’s sake — it is the preservation of sanctity within a structured moral ecosystem.
Just as the queen bee’s access is limited due to her generative and pivotal role, so too is the human concept of hijab a sign of intentional restraint rooted in value, purpose, and moral clarity. It teaches that what is sacred is not for public consumption. It cannot be accessed indiscriminately, nor should it be subjected to objectification or exploitation.
Personal reflection: My father, reverence and the ethics of presence
“When I was a child, I would often notice how girls would adjust their hijabs whenever my father passed by. At the time, I thought it was fear — perhaps of authority or judgment. But now, with a more mature moral lens, I realize it wasn’t fear at all. It was reverence. My father has, without ever saying a word, embodied a presence so deeply aligned with modesty that it awakened a sense of inner responsibility in others. This was not a performance of power, but the quiet influence of someone whose inner moral compass was visibly intact. It was, in Kantian terms, a person whose will was so harmonized with moral law that it demanded silent respect. And in Shia metaphysical terms, it was someone whose heart had no room for moral duality, whose vessel had been sanctified by both love for the good and disavowal of the false.
Ripple effect of modesty: family, society and moral atmosphere
Drug addiction and similar vices are symptoms of deeper ethical and spiritual vacuum in society. In this moral breakdown, both the body and soul are dishonoured, and the mind is dulled, no longer oriented toward meaning or higher purpose. Here also the concept of hijab applies, which teaches modesty over indulgence, honour over hedonism — where desire is tamed, not inflamed. When humans submit to desires, they are less than human.
The increase of drug abuse and social vices in the society where I live is an alarming and deeply painful issue — one that signals a crisis not just of health and law, but of identity, faith, purpose and moral structure. This issue deserves to be addressed not just through statistics and policy but through a deeper ethical, spiritual and cultural lens. Take, for instance, the Netflix series Adolescence, where the lines between victim and perpetrator, sexuality and exploitation, freedom and emptiness are deliberately blurred. What appears to be a story about coming of age, quickly turns into a commentary on how a world without moral restraint breeds trauma, confusion, and violence. In such a climate, modesty is not just countercultural — it’s often depicted as oppression. But when modesty disappears, so does reverence for the human body, for boundaries, and ultimately, for life itself.
In a world that worships self-expression, choosing self-restraint is the new revolution. Modesty, then, becomes not just personal piety, but a ripple effect of inner virtue visible in one’s environment. Loss of hijab isn’t just about modesty — it’s about losing an entire ethical ecosystem.
Modesty as resistance: Bara’ah and necessity of moral polarization
In the Kantian moral framework, virtue is not merely the performance of duty but also the cultivation of moral sentiment — a sincere orientation of the will toward the good. One cannot claim to truly love modesty while remaining indifferent to, or complicit in, the normalization of immodesty. To cherish virtue requires a parallel disposition of disgust, or at least moral resistance, toward vice. This dual alignment is reflected in the Shia concept of Barā’ah — the principled disassociation from evil and moral corruption. Barā’ah is not about hatred for individuals but rather a spiritual distancing from what leads the soul away from its fitri nature. Without this ethical polarization, love for virtue becomes abstract, even hypocritical. To be aligned with truth, one must also feel a quiet revolt against falsehood — not out of ego or aggression, but out of loyalty to divine harmony.
Imam al-Baqir (a): “No one is a true believer until he loves for the sake of Allah, and hates for the sake of Allah.”
In his Religion within the Bounds of Bare Reason, Kant even discusses the “propensity to evil” and the importance of moral struggle. Without acknowledging evil and resisting it, the moral agent risks collapsing into complacency or self-deception. A person who claims to love modesty but refuses to recognize or resist immodesty is not acting from pure practical reason, but from a diluted or sentimentalized ethics that fails Kant’s test of universality and sincerity.
Thus, both Kantian ethics and Shia metaphysics affirm: True moral commitment is bipolar — it must love the good and actively resist the evil. Without this dialectic, one’s ethical position is incomplete.
Conclusion: the heart cannot hold both – toward moral coherence
The heart is like a vessel, and it’s this vessel that either hosts truth or becomes polluted with falsehood. But it cannot host both. This echoes a fundamental metaphysical principle in Shi’i spirituality: al-Haqq lā yajtamiʿ maʿa al-bāṭil — truth cannot coexist with falsehood. These sayings affirm that the heart must choose its allegiance — either it aligns with truth and becomes illuminated, or it harbors falsehood and becomes veiled. There is no neutral space, just as Kant says a morally good will must not act from mixed motives.
In today’s world, we are told that truth is fluid, morality is subjective, and that wisdom lies in embracing all shades of grey. But this approach, while seemingly inclusive, often results in the erosion of moral clarity. It becomes an anesthetic that dulls our conscience, persuading us that standing for something — too strongly — is a form of extremism.
However, both Kantian ethics and Shia theology reject this moral ambiguity. Kant demands sincerity of will, grounded in universal moral law. Shia Islam upholds the oneness of truth (al-Haqq) as a reflection of the oneness of God (tawhid). There can be no genuine alignment with the good without a conscious disavowal of the false. There are not many truths, just as there are not many gods — there is one Truth, indivisible, and everything else is its distortion.
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