India has a femicide problem and doesn't want to admit it. In a society built on honour and shame, women are instructed to be silent or muzzled into silence, forcing the issue of gender-based violence and discrimination deeper into the collective.
But we shall not remain silent. Summoning the words of the inimitable Indian feminist activist Kamla Bhasin, whose own words were inspired by a feminist gathering in 1980s Pakistan, Bhasin writes: Aurat ka naraa, Azaadi; bacho ka naara, Azaadi — "The slogan of women — Freedom; the slogan of children — Freedom."
The recent rape and murder of a 31-year-old doctor in the RG Kar Hospital in Kolkata is, in many ways, a case study of how a patriarchal society allows for and is complicit in violence against women, exposing the stark reality of women's vulnerability in public spaces, even within ostensibly safe environments such as hospitals.
And whilst one might demand an outcry for more safeguards against workplace sexual harassment and the bolstering of women's rights, mainstream voices in India have, expectedly, resorted to victim-blaming.
The female doctor was blamed, despite the autopsy report showing 14 distinct injuries on her head, face, neck, arms, and genitals. This wasn't just sexual violence, this was a hate crime fuelled by extreme antipathy towards women.
India's history is stained by public sexual violence. The Nirbhaya case of 2012 — where a 22-year-old psychotherapy intern was beaten, gang-raped, and tortured in a private bus in Delhi — was so egregious, even for Indian standards, that it necessitated the introduction of stricter penal provisions, including the death penalty for five of the six murderers.
The 2015 BBC documentary, India's Daughter, banned in India, provided chilling insights into the killers' motivation, seeing the rape and murder of a young woman as a form of punishment for their presence in public spaces at night. This mentality underscores a deeper societal issue in India where rape is wielded as a tool for female subjugation and retribution.
India's shame
Femicide, the killing of women and girls because of their gender, is driven by a deep sense of hatred and superiority, leading to the belief that women are inferior and can be controlled and abused. This mentality is fostered by societal conditioning and a sense of entitlement.
The gang rape of two Kuki women — an ethnic minority in the Indian state of Manipur — by a group of Meitei men, the dominant group, during the ethnic conflict in Manipur in 2023 is another reminder of how women also bear the brunt of broader societal tensions and conflicts.
But this isn't a state-wide problem, it's nationwide. According to the Thomson Reuters Foundation's survey in 2018, India was ranked as the most dangerous country for women among the world's 10 biggest economies. More recent data from the National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB) and other international organisations also paint a grim picture. In 2021, the NCRB reported 428,278 cases of crimes against women, a 15.3% increase from 2020.
The recognition of femicide as a distinct legal category is long overdue in India. It was only six years ago, in 2018, that "sextortion" was finally criminalised. But, as is often the case, these limited advancements prove temporary: the law against sextortion was only in one state and has been subsequently repealed.
On the ground, the shift away from patriarchal norms in India remains slow. But India boasts a rich tradition of women's rights activism and organisations like the All India Democratic Women's Association (AIDWA) continue to fight for women's rights in the streets and the courts, offering a glimmer of hope for gradual societal transformation.
A growing chorus of male and female voices is demanding a fundamental shift in societal norms. While progress is slow, the determination to create a more equitable and safe environment for women and transgender individuals is undeniable.
To truly transform India, however, more than mere activism is required. Comprehensive legal reforms, robust educational initiatives, and a cultural revolution are essential. By addressing the root causes of gender-based discrimination and violence, India can reclaim its constitutional promise of equality and dignity for all its citizens. The time for change is now; the future of India’s women depends on it.
Arya Suresh is a New Delhi-based lawyer practising at the Supreme Court of India. She writes commentaries on social, political, and legal issues as well as cinema.
Follow her on X: @RantingDosa
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