Our state allows rape, not documentary
The story so far
A British filmmaker produces a documentary on the December 16, 2012 Delhi gangrape. With permission from the authorities, she interviews the convicted rapist Mukesh Singh, who gives the world a glimpse into the mind of a perpetrator of one of the most horrific crimes of sexual violence in recent history. The documentary is scheduled for broadcast on International Women’s Day, March 8. And four days before that, all hell breaks loose. Politicians, some prominent citizens and some TV news channels are up in arms against the documentary. The Delhi Police goes to court, and gets a restraining order. The information and broadcasting ministry imposes a ban. Parliament erupts at the attempt to defame India internationally. The filmmaker leaves India in a huff fearing arrest, after the Delhi Police registers a case. The home minister of India assures the nation that the documentary will never be shown, and promises that no such documentaries will be allowed to even be made in the future. If this sounds like a fictional tragicomedy, welcome to the reality of India, a country of 1.4 billion people and one everlasting, defining characteristic: Hypocrisy.
Collective shame
At least three films have been made on that horrific night. They did not do well because Indians have moved on from the era when rape scenes were USPs of some films. Shot and edited carefully to show as much as skin of the victim. The films were duly cleared by the censors. But India’s Daughter, the documentary, didn’t pass the muster of our political hypocrisy. The interview of a rapist was just too much for our two-faced conscience, because the rapist wasn’t fictional at all. He was real and he said things that shocked India. Mostly because we hear that so often. The sheer number of men, and women, who share the same beliefs is so staggering, every second man will be seen as a potential rapist.
So what does the rapist say in that interview that has stirred us so much?
- She shouldn’t have fought back if she wanted to live.
- Women who wear certain kinds of clothes invite rape.
- Women who roam around town after sundown are loose and deserve to be punished.
Shameless shame
That a rapist, convicted and condemned to death, shares the views of the average Indian patriarchal bloke, exposes the latter more than the rapist. Sanghis and mullahs have frequently called for modest outfits for women and their brethren have punished women for not conforming to culture. A secular Samajwadi mascot has called gangrape accused "boys", saying that well, "boys will be boys". This diverse nation and its fratricidal politicians find that rare meeting ground when it comes to what women should wear, how they must conduct themselves in public and what time they must be home. Hence, the home minister’s loud cry against what he calls attempts to hurt India’s honour. He who shies away from fixing responsibility in cases of rape being allowed has promised to fix responsibility in how a documentary on rape was allowed.
Rape and honour
Because rape is not about violence against women. On second thoughts, it is not about women at all. It’s about "izzat". Honour. Of the men related to the woman victim. We do not disclose the name of the victim, shamefully, but rightly so, because the victim is supposed to have lost her dignity once she has been raped. This is so deep-rooted in the society’s psyche that the victim, if identified, has to live a condemned life. Now consider this as an act of violence. Imagine a person being stabbed 100 times and surviving, in spite of losing a lot of blood. Will she be condemned? Will her name be withheld? Will honour come into play? No, because there is no sex involved. Most Indians think of rape as sex by force, the accent is on sex. They refuse to believe that force is the crime here, violence is the horror of it all, not the act of sex. There is no sex in rape. But since the narrative mixes the two, we do not want to talk about it. We do not talk about sex. Talking about things raises awareness, the levels of which remain disgustingly low in this country where the number of rapes only sees a rise every year.
Hence, the desperation to bury our heads in the sand of our hypocrisy and self-righteousness. The Delhi Police lunged at the opportunity because any documentary on rape will bring about the shameful figure of rapes under its watch. A woman is raped every 18 hours in the Delhi Police’s jurisdiction. What is shocking is that the news media is calling for a ban on a documentary. Politicians have a vested interest in demanding and justifying bans on forms of media. They need to suppress the truth/information when it doesn’t suit them. Being partisan and hypocritical about the freedom of speech is their profession. For the thousands of people working in newspapers, TV channels and other media, freedom of speech is not just a right, it is also their business; their bread and butter. It boggles the mind how the media can demand for themselves newer chains of regulations and red tape. Then there are the usual suspects demanding a ban on India’s Daughter, the documentary, because they think that this interview glorifies the rapist and magnifies the rape. You know what glorifies the shame? Giving the victim fake names like "Nirbhaya"; calling her a "braveheart". That’s the consolation to diminish our own guilt, the fig leaves to hide our collective shame.
Complicit conscience
The rapist speaks of punishing women who stray from our cultural code. He believes that she would have survived, had she accepted the "punishment" without fighting back. This sure has sent shockwaves in urban drawing rooms, but in the fields of rural India, panchayats sitting under a tree still continue to prescribe rape as punishment for immoral behaviour. They do not get national attention as often. Call them "Khap" or "Bajrang Dal" or "Sharia sepoys", the moral police is alive and kicking us in the face with their medieval boots while the state continues to look the other way. That’s how the state and the society are unwittingly complicit in perpetrating the violence against women.
Every time the state attempts to ban food, books, YouTube videos and documentaries in the name of Indian culture, it strengthens the vultures who take a position on what culture is. It tells them that the state endorses prohibiting freedom in order to protect culture. They are emboldened to draw a line. The point to note about the Lakshman Rekha is that even Lakshman could draw the line for his brother’s wife, asking her to not cross it. And a Ravan lurks to snatch her away when she does. It's time India focused on the Ravan, within and without, instead of drawing Lakshman Rekhas for women. For Ravans of today don't honour lines. For women of today needn't.