The following is a letter Dr Bakri wrote to a young Muslim student studying to be a doctor in Turkey on hearing that she has decided to abandon her studies as the authorities have forbidden female students from wearing head scarves, considered by some to be compulsory for Muslim women. The ban, which applies to students and civil servants, is one of many laws in overwhelmingly Muslim but officially secular Turkey designed to counter what the government sees as the threat of religious fundamentalism.

Dear Leila,

I am saddened that you feel compelled to give up your Turkish scholarship and abandon your medical studies. Medical school is stressful; under such circumstances, ordinary problems can appear greatly magnified.

Your plight brings back memories of my own student days in the 1960s. That decade began with long sideburns and Elvis Presley, and ended with long hair and the Beatles: a time of rebelliousness and unrest.

Our faculty had decreed that uncut hair and bell-bottom pants were not acceptable. We students took that as an affront to our individuality. Our wise dean, aware of the disastrous potential of the conflict, quickly met us.

After getting an earful from us, he patiently explained why the faculty took its stand: patients' complaints about being examined by a bunch of hippies, and risks of infections from bushy hair, among them. To be effective healers, he gently reminded us, we must first make our patients comfortable in order to gain their trust.

In the end common sense prevailed. We could have our long hair but it must be well groomed, not to please the faculty but for our patients' sake. For hygienic reasons, in the operating room we were to wear the same head cover as the nurses.

Our dean also said something else. Our hairstyle was merely the symptom of a severe generational gap. To the faculty, unruly hair reflected personal irresponsibility and the drug culture, hardly desirable traits for a future doctor.

A decade later my role was reversed. I was teaching in Malaysia when a comparable controversy erupted. Some of my students were insisting that they wear hijabs and cotton gloves. A few intimated their refusal to examine patients of the opposite sex or of different faith.

My colleagues were no help; they were too intimidated and shunted the problem onto the vice-chancellor. He in turn, even more scared, punted it quickly on to the minister. Remembering my old dean, I met the class right away to hear them out.

Out to make a point

Indeed they, or at least some of them, were out to make a point. Yes, I agreed that I was obligated to teach them, but not, I politely reminded them, at the expense of the safety and comfort of the patients. If my patients were discomfited by the students' behavior, then the students would have to leave.

My patients must be treated with respect, whether they are rich or poor, Muslims or non-Muslims. Further, in so far as cotton gloves would interfere with our tactile sensations, they too were out. (As an update, with the AIDS and hepatitis epidemic I now routinely wear gloves and face masks to examine trauma patients.)

To my great relief, they readily complied. These students were under severe peer pressure to prove their Islamic credentials, and my laying the rules straight gave them an out. Indeed they were more relieved than I was.

Meanwhile, the minister was forming a high level committee to address the issue!

The Turkish authorities are indeed being churlish and insensitive in forbidding you from wearing your headgear. They should be more tolerant of our different lifestyles, attires and cultures.

Remember that verse from our Holy Koran, in Surah 30:27 (The Roman), "And among His signs is the creation of the Heaven and the Earth; and the variations in your languages and your colors."

We Muslims should be celebrating diversity. I cannot imagine of any clinical situation where head scarves would come in the way. After all, in the operating rooms we have to cover our hair. I draw the line, however, at the hijab dress because of the problems of identification and security.

Is it really worth sacrificing your dream because of the head scarf?

Would you be less of a Muslim for not wearing it? If you want to be a doctor and have your education paid as well, stay in Turkey and accept the price. It is not a heavy one. Being a good Muslim is in your heart. It is not as if the Turks are forcing you to eat pork or preventing you from praying.

Your present dilemma would not be unlike future decisions you will make as a physician. Some will entail literally life and death consequences. The medications you prescribe, for example, will bring benefits as well as side effects. You balance the two.

You are Turkey's guest, as well as the beneficiary of her benevolence. Study her history. Kemal Ataturk struggled very hard to drag Turkey into the modern age and out of the clutches of the medieval mullahs. His successors constantly worry that she would slide back. Having seen how rapidly modern Iran degenerated under the Ayatollahs, you can appreciate why your tudung represented more than just a headgear.

Alien culture

I, too, was a student in a foreign country and in an alien culture. But I decided that I wanted to be a doctor badly, and willingly accepted the price. My attitude was, they had something to teach me and I was eager to learn; our faiths were incidental.

Your attempt to remain true to Islam is commendable. Let me pass on my late grandfather's advice to me before I went abroad. To my query on whether I should compromise my beliefs to get through, he responded thus. First you have to survive, once you pull through then you can concentrate on being a good Muslim. It is much easier to be a good Muslim when you are successful than when you are a failure.

The old man had never left his village but he was no katak di bawah tempurung (fig. frog in a well). His wisdom exceeded those who had traveled and studied afar. His sage advice is still relevant to me today.

A recent news item from home bothered me greatly. A coed suddenly became unconscious, and the male doctor who was called did not examine her for fear of breaching presumed Islamic codes. Fortunately, she had only fainted. But what if she had been choking? Her life could have been saved with the doctor resuscitating her.

Our prime minister recently pleaded with Muslim doctors to treat their patients equally, regardless of religion. Apparently, these doctors are using spoons and other implements to avoid direct hand contact with their non-Muslim patients.

As a physician and as a Muslim, I find these incidents appalling. Those doctors should have their licences yanked. As physicians and would-be physicians, we must always keep in mind our patients' well being foremost. We should not be consumed with collecting our religious brownie points or our personal salvation.

Do our job well and Allah will look kindly upon us. Think of the wonderful deeds you could do after you become a doctor. Do not let your present difficulties come in the way of your dreams.

I hope that my perspective will help you see your problems in a different light and assist you in your difficult decision. Hang on!

Wassallam,

M Bakri Musa, M D