By Famidah Mundir – Dirampaten
What would you do if the very symbol of your identity, faith, and dignity was stripped away in the name of “routine procedure”? For Layla Soliz, a devout Muslim woman and outspoken activist arrested during a peaceful pro-Palestinian demonstration in Knoxville, Tennessee, this wasn’t a hypothetical question – it was a painful reality.
What began as a call for justice in Palestine led to a confrontation with the very system meant to protect her rights. On May 15, 2024, Layla, a University of Tennessee graduate and staff member at Tayseer Seminary, participated in a peace vigil marking Nakba Day – an annual commemoration of the 1948 mass displacement of Palestinians during Israel’s creation, which uprooted their homes, land, and a way of life. The Nakba, or “catastrophe,” symbolizes the continuing struggle for justice, the right of return, and historical recognition faced by more than 5 million Palestinian refugees. For Layla, the Nakba is not just a history; it’s personal. As a Muslim woman from a Palestinian family directly affected by the ongoing crisis in Gaza, she stood in solidarity with those suffering in Palestine, calling for an end to genocide.
However, what followed her arrest for allegedly violating campus restrictions was far more traumatic. A direct violation of her religious rights, an experience many Muslim women in the U.S. have faced, but few have dared to challenge.
Layla was forced to remove her hijab for her mugshot at the Knox County Detention Facility. They promised that the picture would be kept private. This was not just a routine procedure; it was an act which she felt stripped her of her dignity and violated her deeply held religious beliefs. The significance of hijab is more than just some clothing for Layla. It represents her faith, modesty, and prevents men outside her family from seeing her hair. For many Muslim women, having to take off their hijab in front of strangers feels like being torn from their core.
The situation took an even more distressing turn when her booking photo – without her hijab – was published online, contrary to the Knox County Sheriff’s Office (KCSO) own “Religious Head Coverings” policy. The policy explicitly instructs jail staff to respect the dignity and religious rights of arrestees who wear religious head coverings. Staff are supposed to take two photographs (one with the head covering and one without), but only release the one with the covering for identification purposes. The violation of this policy left Layla feeling deeply violated, especially since her mugshot was published publicly despite reassurances it would remain private.
Despite being taken down from Knox County’s website and the official public database, the violative image is still accessible online through third parties, which continues to damage her.
“As a Muslim, that’s a stressor. Not only had my rights to freedom of speech been infringed upon but my religious freedom as well,” Soliz tells Knox News.
The breach of protocol is not an isolated case. It highlights a systemic issue in the U.S. In a landmark case, New York City paid $17.5 million to settle a lawsuit filed by Jamilla Clark and Arwa Aziz, who were forced to remove their hijabs during bookings in 2017 and 2018. Their case, alongside others like Gehad Elsayed and Laila Ibrahim’s 2018 lawsuit, led to policy changes allowing religious head coverings in NYPD mugshots. Similarly, in Rutherford County, Tennessee, Sophia Johnston’s lawsuit prompted a settlement and policy revisions. These cases reveal a systemic disregard for religious freedoms and underscore the emotional and psychological impact of forced hijab removal, underscoring the need for stronger protection of religious rights.
Layla’s story exemplifies the conflict between procedural failures and the constitutional guarantees of religious freedom. The Religious Land Use and Institutionalized Persons Act (RLUIPA) explicitly protects individuals from government actions that impose substantial burdens on religious practices unless there is a compelling government interest pursued in the least restrictive manner. By disregarding their own policies and RLUIPA protections, Knox County officials not only violated Layla’s rights but also set a troubling precedent. Her lawsuit seeks $250,000 in damages and permanent policy reforms to prevent future violations. Her fight is not merely about legalities; it’s about ensuring that the First Amendment – guaranteeing the right to practise one’s faith freely – is not just a promise on paper but a lived reality for all Americans. Her courage echoes the sentiments of other women who have faced similar violations. Stories like Layla’s are not isolated incidents but part of a broader pattern where religious minorities bear the brunt of ignorance and systemic oversight.
Layla’s story is a poignant reminder that the fight for religious freedom goes beyond legal battles — it starts in hearts and minds.
“We have to challenge every single infringement on our rights,” Layla says, “small or large, and every moment that these attacks happen. This is all very connected to what we see happening in Palestine. The entire reason we were there to begin with during our arrest is to call for an end to genocide. All these systems of oppression are very closely connected.” For Layla, her fight for religious freedom and her advocacy for Palestine are intertwined. Her hijab symbolizes the broader struggle for dignity and justice, whether in the streets of Gaza or the confines of an American detention facility.
As we stand for Palestine, we must fight for dignity at home, ensuring that every person lives without fear, with rights respected and humanity intact. Only then we can truly claim to honor the principles of freedom and quality that define a nation.
About the Author:
Famidah Dirampaten is the Assistant Editor for the World Hijab Day Organization (WHDO). She took up MA in Religious Studies with concentrations in Interfaith Peacebuilding and Nonprofit Leadership at the HJ International Graduate School for Peace & Public Leadership (formerly Unifications Theological Seminary) in New York. Instagram@famidz