With
regard to the position of AAP on Khap one may not give much importance to that,
but when a person like Jogendra Jadav, who has a wide acceptability among
radical intellectuals, defended Khap system can not be ignored. This article of
Kavita Krishnan, an All India Women’s Right Movement leader and associated with
CPI(ML-Liberation), beautifully unmasks irrationality of Jogendra’s arguments.
Her analytical argument to establish
'Khap' as an instrument of 'dominance' as against Jogendra's pathetic
explanation of 'Khap' as a ‘traditional social system’ or ‘community system’ of
cost-free justice deserves to be well circulated. This article will be
published in the forthcoming March-issue of central organ ‘Liberation’ of
CPI(ML-Liberation).-[Courtesy: Abhijit Mazumdar, Member, Central Committee, CPI(ML-Liberation)]
On Women’s Day This Year:
Let’s Bring Women’s Freedom Onto the Political Agenda
Kavita
Krishnan
AZAADI
– FREEDOM – was the slogan raised last year in the anti-rape movement. How
should that azaadi translate into an anti-patriarchy manifesto for the 2014
election?
One
fact stares us in the face: that ruling political formations across the board
seem to wilfully refuse to accept women’s demand for freedom. Whether
‘democracy’ is defined in Parliamentary terms or in more radical terms of
participatory democracy and mohalla sabhas, political parties are proving to be
unwilling to recognise that democracy can’t be consistent with patriarchy.
Let’s
begin with the evocative slogan raised by young women during last year’s
movement: ‘khap se bhi azaadi, baap/bhai se bhi azaadi.’ That slogan is
actually a rich and insightful one. For those women, ‘khap’ isn’t just some
aberrant institution found in Haryana or adjoining regions. They recognised the
‘khaps’ all around them in various guises - in their own homes, their hostel
administrations, their caste and community structures, their own parents and
brothers – seeking to take away their freedom in the name of their safety. That
slogan displayed an instinctive recognition of the fact that patriarchy doesn’t
rest only in rapist strangers, but in structures of caste, class, and
community. By choosing ‘khap’ as the symbol for patriarchy, the slogan
recognises that the same structures that oppress women, oppress dalits too. Men
and women alike raised that slogan: recognising that patriarchy, like khaps,
seeks to discipline and control women’s sexuality, by laying down moral diktats
for women, and profiling and demonising men of ‘other’ castes and communities. They
recognised the ‘khap’ in the IPC Section 377 that profiles and criminalises gay
and transgender people.
When
political parties act as defenders and apologists of khaps, they are telling us
that the freedom and dignity of women and dalits really do not have much place
in their vision of politics. When they tell us “Khaps are fine as long as they
don’t coerce or kill”, they are telling us that oppressive and undemocratic
structures are fine, as long as the structures are maintained without overt and
obvious violence.
The
problem is – those who demanded azaadi last year didn’t identify khaps only
with ‘honour killings’: they recognised the khaps lurking in their
discriminatory hostel curfews; and in their parents’ anxiety to get them
married into the ‘right’ caste; in the daily, obsessive policing, by their own
loved ones, of their friendships, their movements, their sexuality, all in the
name of their ‘safety’. So, they located the oppressiveness of ‘khaps’ in the
normal and everyday patriarchal restrictions and codes – not simply in the
shock of spectacular ‘honour killings.’
As
elections approach, with political parties choosing to rehabilitate khaps, we
need to reflect on the violence this does to the principles of democracy and
justice for women and oppressed castes.
Haryana
chief minister Bhupinder Singh Hooda, from the Congress party, sought to
rehabilitate khaps by comparing them to RWAs. He’s not that far off the mark:
the conduct of RWAs in Delhi’s Khirki or Munirka, or even in Mumbai, show
deep-seated caste, communal, racial, and gender biases. In Delhi, the RWAs hold
‘panchayats’ to take decisions. When a body is allowed to ‘represent’ a
community, without taking special pains to overturn hierarchies that already
exist within those communities, it is bound to reflect and perpetuate those
hierarchies.
The
BJP used the platform of khap panchayats in Muzaffarnagar to communalise the
Jat community, invoking the bogey of ‘love jehad’ and calling to ‘save
daughters’ from Muslim men and ‘save honour’. To whip up communal tensions, the
BJP used against Muslims, the strategies perfected by khaps against dalits:
equating consensual love with dalit/Muslim men with rape; denying women
freedoms in the name of ‘saving’ them from rape; and unleashing violence on the
dalit/Muslim communities in the name of avenging hurts to ‘honour’.
The
fact that the BJP, Congress, SP and so on should patronise khaps is no
surprise. What about the AAP, which many hope is forging a bold new political
idiom, free from the old compulsions of caste-based politics? Preparing for an
AAP rally in Rohtak, AAP National Executive member Naveen Jaihind has said what
Congress leaders in Haryana routinely say: “There is no doubt that khaps are
doing good work at different levels.”
And
the pronouncements of various senior AAP leaders on khaps have been rather
intellectually dishonest, not to mention politically opportunist. Since
Yogendra Yadav has complained of being misquoted and misinterpreted, let us
examine only the statements that he himself has authenticated. In his Facebook
post on the subject, he said, “Every community (caste, tribe, ethnic group) has
its internal mechanisms for routine dispute resolution. Such communitarian
systems are not only permissible but are healthy and indeed essential. Pushing
any and every social dispute into courts of law is unhealthy, unaffordable and
socially destructive. If this is what Khap Panchayats do and to the extent to
which they do this, there is nothing wrong with Khap Panchayats or any other
caste/community association. The trouble begins when this dispute resolution
becomes coercive and violates the law of the land,” and here he cites fatwas
and ‘honour killings.’ In an interview to The Hindu, he has said “if they
(khaps) try to resolve disputes by listening to only one community or by
coercion, then we as a party do not accept that...All castes and communities
have social organisations for internal dispute resolution but no coercion can
be permitted. The law of the land is supreme and a murder is a murder.”
It
isn’t just killings and fatwas that are coercive. Khaps seek to maintain the
dominance of the Jats. They claim to speak for the ‘entire community’, but
dalits and women have no place within the khaps. Can institutions dominated by
a dominant caste men, be allowed the right to resolve ‘social disputes’ in a
democracy, and can such a manner of dispute-resolution be termed ‘healthy’ and
‘essential’? What kinds of ‘social disputes’ do khaps seek to ‘resolve’, after
all? If there is a ‘dispute’ over dalits’ occupancy of land, for instance, how
on earth can Jat-dominated khaps have any right to ‘resolve’ such disputes?!
When Yogendra Yadav says khaps should not resolve disputes by ‘listening to
only one community’, is he saying that Jat-dominated khaps can resolve disputes
as long as they ‘listen’ to dalits? One of the major crusades of khap
panchayats in Haryana has been against women’s right to inherit property – and
they have commanded enough political clout to get laws passed by the Assembly
to this effect (the laws were eventually denied Presidential assent). What if
there is a dispute between brothers and sisters over inheritance – can such
openly patriarchal khaps be allowed to ‘resolve’ it?
On
a TV debate, a prominent woman lawyer representing the BJP said that while
khaps and families should not be allowed to pass diktats regarding marriage,
they should at least be allowed to express ‘opinions’. ‘Expressing opinions’;
‘resolving disputes’ – how benign it all sounds! Can it really be alright for a
khap to summon an inter-caste couple to its panchayat, to ‘hear’ its ‘opinion’
on a ‘dispute’ regarding their marriage?! Can we really pretend that khaps do
not command terror over such couples? Such couples cannot even count on the police
to protect them, since the police too hold the khaps to be healthier than the
courts when it comes to ‘disputes’ over marriage, and consider it “socially
disruptive” for people to approach the Courts to assert their rights as
individuals. If khaps are allowed by the Government to retain such unrestrained
social power and legitimacy, is it not inevitable that the killings of couples
and violence on dalits will go on?
Let
us accept that Yogendra Yadav and Bhupinder Hooda are not defending ‘honour
killings’ – they say the ‘law must take its course’ if such killings occur. But
are they even admitting that such killings by khaps are rampant – and that they
are made possible by patronage and collusion of the state machinery? Arvind
Kejriwal’s book Swaraj – the manifesto for the AAP, makes the point that
empowered gram sabhas need not turn into khap panchayats. Granted, gram sabhas
can be prevented from turning oppressive and dictatorial. But why does Kejriwal
make it a point to distance himself from the suggestion that khaps do in fact
order ‘honour killings’? He writes, “Whether Khap panchayats had given such
orders (to kill couples) or not is a debatable issue.” If parties that rule and
those that hope to rule, even deny that khaps do order killings, how can one
hope to stop those killings?
I
would agree that Indians do indeed need – and have been denied – a genuine,
participatory, democratic Swaraj. What I wonder is, how to ensure that the
azaadi demanded by women and by dalits and denied in six decades of free India,
is an integral part of the imagining of that Swaraj? Such azaadi is absent in
Kejriwal’s Swaraj. The latter has much on participatory self-governance as the
panacea for combating corruption and restoring democracy. This concept is
laudable, if it is invoked to assert people’s rights over natural resources and
decisions concerning development. But it is notable that Kejriwal’s Swaraj does
not seem to acknowledge hierarchical structures, let alone adopt a goal to do
away with oppressive hierarchies.
If
one goes by Kejriwal’s book, it would seem that ‘swaraj’ for women only
involves women’s right to cancel liquor licences. The need to ensure that women
have ‘swaraj’ in matters concerning their own lives, love, bodies, marriage, is
not recognised. Likewise, what ‘swaraj’ would mean in the context of the rights
of dalits or minorities, or the rights of dissenting individuals and
communities (say, Kashmiris), is not discussed in the book. The book invokes
the story of the ‘nagar vadhu (courtesan) of Vaishali’ to depict ‘the power of
people over Kings’ in ancient times. This is the story of the people deciding
that a certain woman was to become a courtesan (nagar vadhu = bride of the
republic). She demanded, in return, the palace of the King, and the people took
the palace away from the King and handed it over to her, asserting that the
people, not the King, had the right to dispose of a palace constructed by
people’s taxes. Kejriwal says the practice of ordering a woman to be a
courtesan is wrong, yet cites this story approvingly as one of people’s power.
It is hard to miss, in this story, that such ‘people’s power’ had the right not
only over King’s palaces but over women’s bodies and choices. Yet Kejriwal
manages to miss this point entirely. The problem, he doesn’t seem to realise,
does not lie merely in ordering a woman to be a courtesan – it would be as bad
if they ordered her to be a wife.
So,
the task of radically reimagining a swaraj that will dismantle the structures
that shackle women, dalits, and workers, remains. Meanwhile, as elections
approach, how can we frame our political demands in ways that reflect our
concern with azaadi, rather than with the protectionist politics of ‘suraksha’?
One
way forward could be to frame ‘justice’ for women in terms of entitlements and
services, rather than safety and punishment. I will share some ideas I have in
this regard – by no means an exhaustive list.
Public
transport and public toilets could be prominent among such services and
entitlements. The absence of public toilets shows the State’s blindness to
women’s presence in public spaces; while men, by being able to casually relieve
themselves in public, are marking those public spaces as ‘male’.
There
was such an outcry over the brutal rape of little Gudiya in Delhi last year. Of
course, the rapists must be punished. But can’t we broaden our political
imagination enough to demand that the Government create safe spaces –
especially in poor, working class settlements – for children to be cared for
when their parents are at work?
There
is so much public outrage over rape. Can’t that outrage extend to other forms
of violence that women face routinely – such as domestic violence? And can’t we
demand that the Government provide one-stop mohalla- or district-based crisis
centres where every woman who faces violence can get medical care, counselling,
experienced legal advice and aid, and also get her police complaint filed,
without having to move from pillar to post? Why can’t compensation and
rehabilitation be the right of each survivor of rape and acid attack?
Free
provision of sanitary pads, consulting women in planning public spaces,
ensuring that liquor licences require the mandatory consent of the majority of
women of the locality are other demands we could raise.
What
about public education against sexual harassment and rape? The current ad
campaigns by the police focus purely on the acts of violence and the punitive
consequences that can follow. Why can’t we put in place, from schools to
colleges to streets and mohallas, a public campaign to promote women’s right to
be free, not only from violence, but from the pressure to appear respectable?
The right to feel welcome, regardless of what she’s wearing, who she loves and
how, and what time of day or night she chooses to be out? Why can’t special
efforts be made to introduce people – especially young people - from the more
privileged communities to the worlds of minority communities and racial/ethnic
groups, oppressed caste communities, slum dwellers, street vendors, domestic
workers, sex workers, hijras, gay people and so on? If such efforts were to
become routine, it could go a long way to combating prejudice and bias.
Why
not demand that Governments stop treating women’s labour as patriarchal
families treat it? That is, why can’t Governments stop patronising and
protecting the under-payment of women workers? Raising of minimum wages, equal
pay for equal work, acknowledging ASHA and anganwadi workers as government
employees and paying them accordingly, ensuring toilets, mechanisms against
sexual harassment, and health care for women at every work place could be a
start.
With
these, we could demand various measures to end discrimination and safeguard
rights. These could include scrapping of Section 377; state-run support centres
for inter-caste and same-sex couples; and zero tolerance for moral policing
either by state or non-state actors.
In
this election, we could call upon women to ensure that leaders accused of
gender violence are not re-elected. Also that leaders who either indulge in or
remain silent on victim blaming and sexist language, or who justify stalking
either as ‘wooing’ or as ‘protection’, are defeated. Instead, women could
campaign to elect those women and men who are committed to the political vision
of and struggle for women’s azaadi.
If
demands of this nature could take shape in the political imagination, politics
could actually reflect a concern for gender justice, rather than be stubbornly
resistant to it.
No comments:
Post a Comment