1 August 1746. That was the day that the Dress Act 1746, which was part of the Act of Proscription 1746, came into force, banning men and boys from wearing the kilt, plaid and tartan. The act remained in force for some 36 years. It is now 2026 and we are here, quite shockingly and almost unbelievably, discussing mainly what women and girls should wear.
The timing of this afternoon’s debate on face coverings is quite ironic, with it being Halloween just last week, when hundreds of thousands of children and young people had face coverings on for the night.
Politicians using parliamentary chambers to attack people’s cultures and beliefs is nothing new, but I thought that we had moved on from that in Scotland. Indeed, we probably had, until the election, which brought us a Parliament with a new make-up.
As other members have said, we have already had this debate. Only a few weeks ago, there was a members’ business debate on face coverings in public places. That debate made clear the agenda behind the issue, which involves an attempt to turn legitimate concerns about criminality and public safety into an argument for restricting the religious freedoms of Muslim women. We should be clear about what is happening here. There is no masking it. Although, today, we have amendments such as Stephen Kerr’s, the motion represents a rehash of that debate—otherwise, there would be no need to give the examples that the motion gives. It risks reopening the same divisive arguments under the guise of public safety.
There is a fundamental difference between someone wearing a face covering for religious or cultural reasons and someone deliberately concealing their identity because they intend to commit violence, intimidation or a criminal act. Attempting to conflate those two groups is inexcusable. It is unfair, it is deeply damaging to community relations, and it places an unjust burden on people who have done no wrong. Nobody in this chamber should have any difficulty condemning violence or criminality. Equally, nobody should be comfortable using those issues to cast suspicion over an entire religious or cultural community.
The right to practise one’s religion and express one’s identity is a fundamental freedom. For some Muslim women, wearing the niqab or burqa is a personal expression of faith. That choice deserves respect. If there are concerns about coercion, those concerns should be addressed through support for women, education and the enforcement of existing protections. A blanket restriction on clothing is a wholly different matter.
As has been discussed, if members believe that the police’s current powers are not sufficient—David Linden and Stephen Kerr both made a good case in that regard—let us have a serious discussion about that. It sounds as though the Criminal Justice Committee, of which I am no longer a member, is beginning to have that debate. However, we should not begin with a predetermined conclusion and then attempt to find a community to blame.
If we want to talk about the genuine problems associated with face coverings, I suggest that we look at where the evidence points. One of the most serious issues is the use of balaclavas and face coverings by individuals who are involved in violence and disorder, for example at football matches. There is a lot to tackle there, but there is a world of difference between tackling a masked individual who gets involved in violence at a football match or on our streets and placing restrictions on a woman who is walking through Glasgow wearing a niqab. The latter has no automatic connection to criminality. Her clothing is not evidence of wrongdoing and her religion is not a public safety threat.
We must be careful about the language that we use. When we repeatedly associate particular religious clothing with security concerns, we risk creating an atmosphere in which Muslim women become targets of suspicion and hostility. That has consequences for their ability to participate fully in public life. We in the Parliament should be leaders, and we must understand the consequences of our actions and our words.
Our diversity is part of our national story. People from different backgrounds, cultures and faiths have helped to shape our communities, our public services, our businesses and our national identity. We should all recognise and be proud of that fact. We are all Jock Tamson’s bairns.
A particularly good example of that was provided by the recent “Traces of Empire” exhibition at Summerlee museum in Coatbridge, which was organised by the North Lanarkshire Muslim Women and Family Alliance, with help from Historic Environment Scotland. The exhibition brought together 34 co-curators to explore the continuing legacies of empire through art, poetry and storytelling. It gave people whose family histories are connected to colonialism an opportunity to share their experiences and their perspectives.
What I took away from that exhibition was that Scotland’s history is complex and our present-day communities reflect connections across the world. Listening to people and understanding their experiences makes our country what it is. That is the sort of Scotland that I want us to build: a Scotland that is confident in its identity and comfortable with its diversity, and a Scotland where people can practise their faith, contribute to communities and feel that they belong.
We should be addressing violence through effective policing and proper enforcement of the law, and we should be protecting individual freedoms and treating people fairly. Let us focus on the problems that actually threaten public safety, and let us stand up for the inclusive, diverse and welcoming Scotland that we should all be proud to represent.