There was a deliciously ironic juxtaposition of articles in the July 19-20 weekend edition of The International Herald Tribune. On the front page, an article about the Muslim woman from Morocco who was denied French citizenship because she wore the niqab (a veil that reveals only the eyes).

And, towards the back, a favorable review of Heavy Metal Islam, an account of a history professor’s journey through underground music movements in the Middle East and North Africa. 
French officials described the veiled woman as living in a “prison” and wearing a “straightjacket” that served as the insignia of a “totalitarian political project.”  The history professor described an 18-year-old with spiked hair from Casablanca, a 20-year-old with goth makeup from Dubai, and their fellow practitioners of death, doom, and other musical styles as “a model for communication and cooperation” across cultures. 

So, here is a suggestion for ultra-orthodox Muslims: In order to win the hearts of Europe and America, perhaps the women should trade in their headscarves for ultra-stiffening hair gel. And maybe the men could shave off their extra-long beards before pinning the razors into their cheeks. 

Goth makeup is a more familiar sight in the West than the niqab.  Still, I suspect most people are as likely to shudder when they encounter a woman veiled from top to toe as when they spy a metal-studded and tattooed youth. But we have yet to read of a heavy metal practitioner being denied a nationality -- though they are likely to be turned down for jobs. 

The extremely devout and the strikingly rebellious do have something in common: They are both making lifestyle choices. 

Unless there is evidence that her French husband is violating her rights, or that this Moroccan mother is violating the rights of her children; and, unless there is evidence that a punk is a vandal out of Clockwork Orange, then surely a society either has to live with both -- or to legislate against both? 

The French ruling against the Moroccan mother said her lifestyle choice was “incompatible with essential values of the French community.” Yet in the IHT report, the woman said she had freely chosen her form of dress and that she had freedom of movement. There was no evidence -- in that article -- that her family was violating her rights.

The word “values” is problematic, often used by people -- especially politicians -- to refer to those who are “not one of us.” There is a better way to judge what constitutes permissible human behavior: by turning to universally recognized human rights, as codified in international law. 

International law is based on principles and values that all humans hold dear, and is carefully negotiated by experts and governments to govern behavior within and between states. These conventions, which countries sign and commit to uphold, set minimum standards for the way we are meant to deal with each other. 

International law spells out rights to nationality, freedom of movement, education, shelter, food, and many others. Governments have the obligation to stop torture, discrimination, inequality, and other violations of human rights. 

The last time I looked there was no mention of the right dress code or of a government obligation to enforce one -- as France, Turkey, and Iran, among others, are seeking to do.

 There is no need for such panic about lifestyle choices: They change with changing times. Moreover, a certain style can become as familiar as your own face if that is the style a majority in a society is adopting at any given time. For example, I soon grew accustomed to the all-enveloping black covering many women wear in Yemen during an assignment I had for the United Nations. 

My favorite picture from that trip is of a woman farmer all in black, with her sleeve rolled high above the elbow, her arm right up a cow’s uterus, and her eyes smiling at the camera. 

I also sat in on a class of veiled women, and was surprised when the male teacher called on them by name. He told me he quickly came to know each individual by her voice, demeanor, and questions. By the way, not all Yemeni women cover their face, and some have served as cabinet ministers, including as minister of human rights. 

It is a struggle to feel comfortable with people who are different -- especially by choice -- from what we have learned to view as “normal.” Yet, their choices must be respected unless they are violating human rights. Otherwise we are violating theirs.

Nadia Hijab consults for international organizations on human rights and on gender equality, and writes on international affairs.