Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?

The veil, in its physical or symbolic form, is not merely a garment but a mental and spiritual shield, an emblem of resistance against a world that wants us standardized, transparent, and consumable. It is a retreat, a refuge like that of the Seven Dwarfs.

The Eighties and Nineties are now a memory, a time of healthy light-heartedness. Today, that innocent ease has turned into minds forced to absorb more than they can contain, pushing them toward emptiness, and the natural response to such stress is to withdraw.

Artificial intelligence floods us with data; the media broadcast wars live; faces and bodies appear “perfect,” while others are torn apart—gradually eroding the human capacity for empathy and replacing it with a collective emotional numbness. And so we go back to listening to “old” music, whose notes echo through the garden, or wandering among abandoned farmhouses in search of a lost meaning.

The same happens with AI-generated flowers replacing real ones in exhibitions mysteriously called “the art of contemporary wonders.”

Global narcissism is everywhere; illusions and endless simulations break like the waves of Nazaré, without even leaving us the ability to understand the connection, yet we feel a fierce need to feel something again.

And this is how the veil returns to fashion, not only as a religious devotion but as a conscious symbol of opposition, expressing one’s own self-critique in the form of: “I am not a product,” “I will not surrender to the system.”

AI and capitalism have turned women (and men) into consumable slaves, reducing them to easily replaceable aesthetic objects, because they themselves stepped into the game, not realizing that they are the very ones feeding the market of the scalpel, from which they try to free themselves only when it is too late. Like fish trapped in a net, they keep circling around, imprisoned in a pattern that makes them ever more vulnerable.

I remember several trips to Japan, where, already fifteen years ago, supermarkets were filled with clerks who resembled the AI of 2025, responding only to the sound of the cash-register bell or to some “lucky charm” trinket they wore around their neck or attached to their clothes.

More and more Western women are embracing Islam as a way to escape this “mercenary shark,” reclaiming dignity, authenticity, and inner freedom, asserting their own rights while at the same time denying the rights of those who still protect them: the woman they call oppressed because she “wears the hijab.” An endless paradox, a dangerous distortion of reality.

Those who wear the veil, or who protect themselves with an inner bastion as a shield against external attacks, consciously choose to distinguish reality from illusion, to remain authentic, and to defend themselves from digital (or real?) intrusion and from social models that have destroyed the authentic nature of womanhood.

In an age of distorted mirrors and clamors like chickens trapped in battery cages, the veil becomes a silent scream—and this is true creativity, untouched by digital interference that tries to bind you to an idea produced by vindictive algorithms.

Artificial intelligence amplifies data and images, creating illusions at a speed faster than our consciousness can process, turning us into passive spectators of our own desires—watching addictions grow to extremes and blaming others for our inability to break free.

As the Qur’an warns:“Do not follow that of which you have no knowledge; surely the hearing, the sight, and the heart—each of these shall be questioned.” (Sūrat al-Isrā’ 17:36)

What will we answer before God (and before ourselves) when we have neither understood, nor heard, nor seen, nor felt anything?

Erich Fromm describes this alienation: “Modern society turns us into objects, not individuals; it alienates us from our true selves.” AI, together with global models of artificial perfection, magnifies this phenomenon: women and men risk becoming consumer products devoid of soul. Fromm warns us: “Conformity is the prison of the mind; those who do not think for themselves become slaves to social illusions.”

The veil as protection, freedom, and return

The Islamic veil emerges as a tool of protection and spiritual resistance. It is not merely a garment: it is a deliberate act to preserve inner freedom, dignity, and mental integrity. To wear it is to declare: “I am not a product; I will not surrender to the system.”Fromm writes: “Freedom is not something one possesses; it is something one must fight for continually.”

The Qur’an reminds us:“Allah does not change the condition of a people until they change what is within themselves.” (Sūrat ar-Ra‘d 13:11)Everything that has value—knowledge, spirituality, dignity—must be guarded and protected, like the black box of an aircraft, a safe, or the Kaaba itself. The veil thus becomes a means of safeguarding these values in a world that either ignores them deliberately or reduces them to commodities.

Why today, why now?

In every culture's history, woman has always safeguarded fundamental values and moral power—not as a sexual object but as an entity preserving balance, authority, and integrity. The true oppression today is not that of ancient traditions but that of the modern West, which has distorted the meaning of Truth. The same applies to the standardization of the Arabic language, which has uniformed concepts that ancient script expressed with precise nuance.

Only awareness can interrupt this trend. A woman who recognizes her worth, chooses spiritual and mental protection, and wears a veil—whether real or symbolic—can free herself from the illusion imposed by modern society and regain control over her body, mind, and destiny.

Secrets are not displayed; the critical memory of an aircraft is kept in its black box, material valuables in a safe, sacredness in the Kaaba, and gold within rocks or riverbeds. In the same way, mind, spirit, and dignity must be protected from the invasive pressures of the digital age and global consumerism.

To protect what is precious is not isolation; it is conscious resistance. It is saying:“I guard my mind, my spirit, and my worth. They will not be contaminated by external invasion.”In a world of mirrors like those of the witch in Snow White, filled with pervasive illusions and predatory capitalism, this is the most powerful form of freedom: the responsibility to protect not only oneself but also one’s sisters—because balance is one of the fundamental values proclaimed in the Qur’an, between spiritual and material life, in behavior, and in the rejection of extremism in any direction. The veil can thus be seen as a “middle line” dividing the two worlds.

In conclusion, authenticity must be protected—without excess, without extremism:

“And thus We have made you an ummatan wasaṭan, that you may be witnesses to humankind and the Messenger a witness over you.” (Qur’ān 2:143)