If it was up to her Saïda El Fekri would take off her headscarf in a second. In fact, she does take it off whenever she goes on holiday abroad. But not now. "It would give the impression I'm doing it under pressure from others," says the 36-year-old spokesperson of Baas Over Eigen Hoofd (BOEH, Boss of my own head), a 'feminist' action group in the Belgian city of Antwerp. "The girls who are being forbidden to wear the headscarf to school would lose their role model."

Two weeks ago the public school system in the Flemish region of Belgium decided to introduce a blanket ban on headscarves. On Thursday, BOEH filed a complaint against the decision with the council of state, the highest administrative court in Belgium, on behalf of several girls in Antwerp who themselves prefer to stay out of the spotlight.

Universal values

About sixty Muslim girls in Antwerp have dropped out of school since the ban came into effect, says El Fekri. "Some have simply stayed home; others have started their own class and plan to take their exams. But all of them have lost contact with the rest of society."

The headscarf controversy was recently brought to the forefront once again after the Royal Atheneum, a school in Antwerp, decided to ban the Islamic headwear. The move was all the more controversial because the Royal Atheneum was one of the last schools in Antwerp not to have a ban.

The school's principal, Karin Heremans, in 2005 co-authored a book with then socialist party president Steve Stevaert, in which she argued against a headscarf ban. Heremans advocated cultural differences are an enrichment, and she wanted to introduce universal values to the mixed bag of children at the school: tolerance, separation between church and state. It is no coincidence that the Royal Atheneum was founded by Napoleon.

But Heremans' principled stand put the school in a difficult position. As one of the last refuges for headscarf-wearing girls in Antwerp, it became the school of choice for religious Muslims.

80 percent Muslim

"In 2001 46 percent of all pupils was Muslim", Heremans says, "in 2008 it was 80 percent." Some girls started showing up in the niqab, a veil that leaves only the eyes visible. The niqabs were banned, but the discussion didn't end there.

"The debate was no longer about to ban or not to ban the headscarf. It was about how long the headscarf should be. Girls who chose not to wear it were put under pressure. An ex-pupil slipped into the school to take down the names of the girls who took off their headscarves once they were inside. After a few years of this I thought: in a little while we will be a Muslim school. Then what will be left of our project?"

Heremans' decision to introduce a ban at her school had far-reaching consequences. After one student filed a complaint with the council of state, it voiced a legal opinion saying it was not up to individual schools to decide on a headscarf ban, but to the supervisory school boards. As a result the board of the roughly 700 public schools in the Flemish region of Belgium decided to introduce a system-wide headscarf ban, much to the displeasure of principals in other parts of the country where the headscarf was not yet an issue.

In Antwerp the boards of the various school systems - the public schools and the mostly Catholic 'free schools', which are also state-funded - got together and agreed on a local headscarf ban covering all the schools in the area.

Flowers and chocolate

Heremans says she knew her decision would cause a shock because of the emblematic function of her school - to the degree that she took a crash course in communications before she announced it. But she says there have been many positive reactions too, both from Muslims and non-Muslims. "People have sent flowers and chocolates. Several school principals from the Netherlands called me to give their support."

But there have been numerous negative reactions too. "This is a slap in the face," says Mohamad Chakkar, using an expression usually reserved for Flemish politicians to express anger at their French-speaking counterparts. Chakkar is the president of the Federation of Moroccan Associations. He says he was shocked by the speed with which the decision was taken. "The Flemish consultation model was completely abandoned. This is all anyone talks about in the mosques these days," he says.

The Moroccan community is now thinking about founding its own schools. These plans have existed for a while, and they are not directly linked to the headscarf issue. "Research has shown that the education gap between immigrant and non-immigrants students in Flanders is the widest in Europe. We are not looking for religious schools; we're looking for a pedagogic answer to this problem."

Flemish education minister Pascal Smet hopes it doesn't come to that. "Our schools should be a reflection of society," he says. But he is also powerless to stop it: it was a consequence of the so-called "school wars" between the Catholic schools and the secular state schools that anyone who qualifies for state subsidies has the right to start a school.

Smet, who has a legal background, has questioned the constitutionality of the Flemish headscarf ban. A national headscarf ban for all schools, like in France, might stand a better chance, but that would require amending the constitution. And it would mean a return to the school wars, because the Catholic schools too would have to ban all religious symbols.