Hindustan Times
Hindutva’s other half
Namita Kohli , Hindustan Times April 29, 2014
The Rashtra Sevika Samiti, female counterpart of the RSS, has been mobilising Hindu women to reconstruct the nation for more than seven decades. A report from the Samiti’s headquarters in Nagpur.
The sound of Vasudha Khati’s whistle pierces through the pall of silence that hangs in the room on a sultry evening in Nagpur. The women in the room, members of the Rashtra Sevika Samiti, the Hindu nationalist organisation, take their cue: their pallus tucked into their saris at the waists,mangalsutras in place, they assemble themselves in neat rows, backs straight and chins up, looking their leader in the eye, waiting for her next command.
In the next few seconds, one of the 10 Sevikas — a term used for Samiti members — steps forward, and fixes a bright, saffron flag on top of an iron rod. Together, the group salutes their dhwaj (flag), before they sit down for their weekly shakha (local chapter) meeting.
“Saavdhan (be alert). That’s what the whistle tells us,” Vasudha, a homeopathic doctor, explains to her middle-aged audience, now sitting cross-legged on the floor. Women need to be careful all the time, she tells them.
Who else tells you to be careful? she asks the group. The signboard on the roadside, someone from the group says. The Hindu priest who chants shubhmangal saavdhaan at weddings, says another. So, perhaps Modiji was sufficiently warned, one of the sevikas points out, and the group shares a laugh.
“Indeed. Probably he realised he had a bigger role to play in the service of the nation,” Vasudha smiles, and asks the group to switch the discussion.
Lessons in virtue
At the Devi Ahilya mandir, a threestoreyed building in a residential colony in Nagpur, young girls and women stream in and out through the day. Few among them are the sevikas who eat, pray and live here — they are the full-time volunteers. Others are young girls from the north-east who live in the Samiti’s hostel in the building. The girls study at local schools and colleges, and follow the Samiti’s daily rituals at the shakhas. Still others such as Vasudha are part-time volunteers, who organise the weekly shakhas and the annual shivirs (camps), and participate in various activities.
Around noon, four elderly women sit across a wooden table on the first floor of the building, their vegetarian meal laid out neatly on steel plates. They fold their hands and say a quick prayer. “What we eat must not only fulfill our bodies, but must also be useful for the motherland,” explains Pramila Tai Medhe, as she begins her lunch, and invites me to join her. Pramila Tai is an old hand: a member since she was little, and now in her 80s, she served as the Samiti’s pramukh sanchalika (all-India chief) for six years until 2012.
The story, she tells me, began in the 1930s when “Mausiji” (Lakshmibai Kelkar) suggested to Dr Keshav Baliram Hedgewar, the founder of the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS), that women also be involved in his vision of a “Hindu nation”. Hedgewar agreed, and in 1936, the Samiti was started as a “parallel organization” of the RSS, sharing its vision and ideology, but independent in its functions. Like the RSS, the Samiti also holds shakhas and shivirs, and aims to inculcate the same values vis-à-vis the nation, family, and women’s position in society. Women are equal agents in the “reconstruction” of the Hindu nation, both insist. They also believe that Hindu women were confined to the household after “the Mughals invaded us” and “committed atrocities” on the Hindu women.
But the women need to be empowered now, according to the Samiti. At the shakhas, young girls are “empowered” by being trained in martial arts, lectured on the nation’s “glorious” history and the need to defend the motherland against invaders. The attempt is to discipline them into virtuous Hindu women, who can fend off attacks from men, and from desire: steer clear of pre-marital sex and sex outside of marriage; oppose live-in relationships, surrogate motherhood and sex work, and also social evils such as female foeticide and dowry, they are told. Besides being the cultural ambassadors of Hindutva, members must also be ready to fight, just as they did during the Ayodhya movement, says a senior member of the Samiti.
But Pramila Tai is skeptical of these conversations. “Our work has often been misunderstood,” she says. Hinduism is not divisive, but tolerant and assimilative; being Hindu doesn’t mean following rituals; and the only allegiance of a people must be to the nation, not to religious norms, she insists. “A Hindu is one who is born here; who calls it (motherland). It includes people from all religions”. Except, of course, if you are “dishonest to the nation”, she cautions. Pramila Tai directs me to Radha Gokhale, a post-graduate in Physics and a long-time volunteer, to understand the motivations of their members. Radha, in her 40s, says her brothers have been members of the Sangh, and she has been with the Samiti since she was a child. “This is like family. I am like their daughter; my husband is the son-in-law,” she smiles, when I ask her why she would volunteer for several hours in a day in return for no remuneration. We discuss the Samiti’s sewa projects that many women such as Radha foreground in their conversations about volunteering. What about the demolition of the Babri masjid and the Gujarat riots, I ask Radha and her husband, Mohan Gokhale. “Did anyone at the Samiti ask you what is your religion, or your caste?” Mohan, who teaches textile chemistry in a college in Nagpur, asks me. He then begins to talk at length about issues in the country that need to be addressed. “People always fear two things: god, and police. Today, the problem with our country is, people fear neither.”
Declining base
Sitting in a room full of several Hindutva icons, Shantakka, now in her 60s, is contending with the dwindling attendance at the shakhas. Old timers at the Samiti speak of the hundreds who came to attend these shakhas; today, there are times when the attendance is in single digits. “Girls are now career-oriented; they have to attend tuitions and activity classes. Where is the time to do anything else?” she says. So, the Samiti is responding with more dynamism. “We don’t make young college girls do physical training. Instead, to get them interested, we discuss topical issues with them,” she says. The Samiti is also unconcerned with the dress code — from saris to churidars to pants; anything that is “decent” is allowed in the shakhas.
The Samiti must also reach out to the vulnerable: hostels for girls from the northeast, to “save Hindus from being converted to Christianity” over there ; help for the families of farmers who have committed suicide because they were unable to repay debts in Vidarbha; and volunteering for disaster relief in Uttarakhand.
The good sevika
But the production of ideal Hindu women has brought with it its own set of compromises and contradictions. This evening, for instance, Vasudha is contemplating allowing one of her members, who recently got involved in an extra-marital affair, to get back to the shakha. “She is working on her marriage now, and I have asked her to come back in a few months. Everyone will forget by then,” she says.
Poornima, a 25-year-old law graduate, who lives in the Samiti’s hostel for northeastern girls at the mandir, is dealing with her own dilemma. Back home in Assam, it is important to “save Hindu culture”, she says. She even recalls the sister who fell in love with a Christian and was “forced” by him to convert. But Poornima is unsure what she would do in a similar situation. “I think I wouldn’t care; as long as he is a good human being,” she says, after some thought.
By now, another shakha is in progress at the mandir. The young girls march back and forth with precision and sing songs about the “brave, fierce daughter” of Hindustan. They talk about respecting elders, being honest, countering the “love jehad unleashed” by young Muslim men on “innocent Hindu women” and resisting the ills of “western culture”.
After the shakha, however, Rinky (name changed), a Class 11 student in Nagpur, asks me if I could help become a “ramp model”. “See, I have been preparing: I attend Western dance classes, take care of my diet, skin and hair also. Tell me, can you give me some contacts?” she pesters. So, why does she attend the shakha? “Oh, that’s only because I want to spend time with friends.”
Showing posts with label Rashtra Sevika Samiti. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rashtra Sevika Samiti. Show all posts
April 30, 2014
October 29, 2012
Book Review: Sunila Kale on Menon Women of the Hindu Right
Kalyani Devaki Menon. Everyday Nationalism: Women of the Hindu Right in India. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2010. 224 pp. $49.95 (cloth), ISBN 978-0-8122-4196-9.
Reviewed by Sunila Kale (University of Washington International Studies Department)
Published on H-Asia (May, 2011)
Commissioned by Sumit Guha
Kale on Menon Women of the Hindu Right
In Everyday Nationalism: Women of the Hindu Right in India, Kalyani Devaki Menon provides us with a rich ethnographic account of the mechanisms, tactics, and ideologies by which Hindu nationalist organizations build their support among Indian women in the communities in and around India’s national capital, Delhi. The subject matter continues to be timely, for despite the sidelining of the Hindu nationalist Bharatiya Janata Party from the center stage of national politics in India, Hindu nationalism in its cultural, social, as well as political variants continues to thrive in India.[1] The focus in this book on women is equally welcome as part of a larger body of scholarship that seeks to disaggregate the Hindu nationalist movement to understand how its various constituents operate alongside and sometimes against each other.
Menon conducted a year-long ethnography among individuals working in the Delhi chapters of several Hindu nationalist organizations: the Rashtra Sevika Samiti, the women’s organization directly linked to the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh; the Durga Vahini and Matri Shakti, women’s organizations related to the Vishwa Hindu Parishad; the Mahila Morcha, the women’s affiliate of the Bharatiya Janata Party; and Sewa Bharati, a social service organization that in Delhi concentrates mostly on providing educational and vocational training to Delhi’s poor urban communities. Her sustained interactions with forty-five women and ten men in the movement take her from ordinary chapter meetings to specialized retreats and nationalist rallies full of incendiary speeches. Her ethnography among her mostly middle-class and upper-caste participants attends to “the everyday constructions of ideology and politics through which activists garner support at the grassroots level.” To this end, she looks at how individual members and organizations use “history, religion, politics, and social work to articulate the everyday fears, desires, needs, and interests of diverse groups with the movements goals” (p. 5).
While Menon is interested in the pluralism of the Hindu nationalist movement itself, a quality that rests at the heart of the movement’s “expansionary strategies” (p. 5), her potentially more significant contribution is the examination of moments when individuals become what she calls “dissonant subjects,” transgressing the norms of the movement. In these moments, Menon sees an opportunity to examine “everyday acts that complicate our analysis of Hindu nationalist subjects” (p. 3), in particular the ability of movement leaders and movement structures to variously overlook, discipline, or incorporate dissonance. Menon engages these theoretical issues of Hindu nationalism’s pluralism and the role of dissonant subjects in her introductory chapter. The subsequent chapters are organized around the movement’s uses of historical narratives, the language of fear, a twinning of religious and political duty, volunteerism, and the use of games and fun. These are all examples of the common practices by which movement leaders inspire new recruits and instill a normative agenda, and Menon provides a valuable ethnographic snapshot of these everyday acts.
Menon notes that at times the normative emphasis among these women’s organizations is distinct from hegemonic Hindu nationalist discourses. Menon argues that it is through an accommodation of ideological or normative pluralism that the movement has been able to grow substantially among Indian women, as well as among other groups who might otherwise be alienated by rigidly enforced hegemonic and patriarchal norms. This is perhaps most clearly demonstrated in Menon’s analysis in chapter 1, where she takes up the subject of “everyday histories.” For example, in most dominant Hindu nationalist narratives, the seventeenth-century Maratha king Shivaji is valorized as the epitome of a righteous Hindu ruler and the progenitor of the modern Hindu nation. However, Menon finds that among the women of the Rashtra Sevika Samiti, the figure of Jijabai, Shivaji’s mother, is the generative force for a newly awakened Hindu politics in the early seventeenth century, an “architect of the Hindu Nation” (p. 47). The stories that circulate around Jijabai underscore the central role of motherhood for Menon’s interlocutors, one that allows individual women to make a deep impact on public, political events through the private choices they make for themselves, and most importantly, for their children.
In chapters 2 and 3, Menon interrogates the uses of fear and insecurity in the garnering of new recruits and the justification of certain kinds of social work. For example, in one conversation with a member of Sewa Bharati, we hear the position that the Hindu nationalist movement’s education outreach among Delhi’s lower-income communities is essential to countering the threats that conversion poses from minority religions, particularly Christianity. In the subsequent chapter, Menon examines the productive uses made of fears of Pakistan during the Kargil war. In her analysis of the speeches of female ascetics like Sadhvi Rithambara, Menon argues that it is “their dual status as renouncers and as women that makes these sadhvis such effective voices for the values, morals, and politics of the movement” (p. 82).
While chapter 3 draws from her fieldwork experiences at rallies and other significant occasions, Menon’s book is strongest and most illuminating when it takes us into the everyday world of work and play. In chapter 4, Menon presents material from her fieldwork among women in social service organizations. In the first part of the chapter Menon accompanies two VHP social workers in their volunteer time in the obstetric and gynecology unit of one of Delhi’s government hospitals. The two women play critical mediating roles for the largely poor, illiterate, and inexperienced patient population seeking prenatal attention. They routinely serve as stenographers, helping patients to input information for hospital registration, and in some cases they function as triage nurses, determining which patients require attention and which will most likely be sent home by the hospital staff. Here we get a more grounded sense of the vital social work that is done by individuals and organizations of the Hindu Right and how this work connects to the expansion of the movement among new communities.
Chapter 5 shifts the focus to a singular event, a weekend retreat, or shivir, organized by the Rashtra Sevika Samiti with the imperative to recruit new members. Organized games and play, physical exercises and drills, lectures, prayer, and patriotic songs structure the day’s activities, all with the aim to position new recruits “toward the cultural politics of the movement” (p. 131). Games and play are particularly apt strategies to “disseminate these ideas because they are able to convey Hindu nationalist constructions of history, politics, and morality without raising the hackles of those who might otherwise disagree with them” (p. 155).
Menon gives us a very good sense of the ideology and practices of the organizations and individuals with whom she interacts. There are a few places, however, where the reader might have wished for additional or perhaps different kinds of information to make sense of the larger argument. Among the occasions in which members of the Hindu nationalist movement become dissonant subjects we have the opening vignette, in which Ela, a volunteer in Sewa Bharati, expresses the opinion that “it is meaningless” to build a temple to Ram “on the blood of so many Indians” (p. 1). This views sits at odds with Ela’s own family history in the RSS, her own long-standing association with Sewa Bharati, and the focal nature of the efforts to build a temple at the former site of the Babri Masjid for the Hindu nationalist movement over the last several decades. Similarly, we hear that another Hindu nationalist, Vimla, doubts the authenticity of female renunciates, who merely “have to look spiritual” (p. 102) to be granted a life of wealth and luxury. Again, given sadhvis’ privileged position of deference and authority in the movement, and their importance to some of the arguments of Menon’s book, Vimla’s views seem jarring.
Menon’s focus on dissonance in the introductory chapter of the book alerts the reader to pay closer attention to the narratives of such moments, and her theoretical survey of this concept is valuable and provocative. However, as the book unfolds, its rich ethnographic documentation geared toward “dissonance” is not supplemented by a continued engagement with this vital idea. While episodes of dissonance like the ones described above are inherently interesting, there seems to be less rigorous pursuit of the questions surrounding these moments: How do individuals themselves understand their transgression of the movement’s norms? Are there potentially more radical consequences to this dissonance? Could such moments of dissonance constitute the germ for a potential subversion of hegemonic positions? Menon’s book comes at a time when the broad swath of the Hindu Right is in a moment of reinvention, and this work is therefore timely and important in this context. It is an important contribution to the discussion of Hindu nationalism, and its emphasis on the everyday practices of nationalist organizations helps to clarify the movement’s expansion outside of its early upper-caste and middle-class support base into lower-caste and lower-class communities and especially through gender as both a dissonant and a resonant category of experience for members of the Hindu Right. Menon has given us a rich view of women in the Hindu Right of northern India, and whatever questions she leaves unanswered are perhaps stimulants for new research agendas.
Note
[1]. In the 2009 Indian parliamentary elections, the Bharatiya Janata Party won 116 seats, enough to secure its position as the second largest political party after the centrist Indian National Congress, which won 206 seats. The BJP has a substantial political following in a number of state governments as well. Among the most populous states where it functions either as the sole party in power or as a coalition partner are Gujarat, Bihar, Madhya Pradesh, Punjab, Uttarakhand, and Jharkhand.
If there is additional discussion of this review, you may access it through the list discussion logs at: http://h-net.msu.edu/cgi-bin/logbrowse.pl.
Citation: Sunila Kale. Review of Menon, Kalyani Devaki, Everyday Nationalism: Women of the Hindu Right in India. H-Asia, H-Net Reviews. May, 2011.
URL: http://www.h-net.org/reviews/showrev.php?id=29835
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Reviewed by Sunila Kale (University of Washington International Studies Department)
Published on H-Asia (May, 2011)
Commissioned by Sumit Guha
Kale on Menon Women of the Hindu Right
In Everyday Nationalism: Women of the Hindu Right in India, Kalyani Devaki Menon provides us with a rich ethnographic account of the mechanisms, tactics, and ideologies by which Hindu nationalist organizations build their support among Indian women in the communities in and around India’s national capital, Delhi. The subject matter continues to be timely, for despite the sidelining of the Hindu nationalist Bharatiya Janata Party from the center stage of national politics in India, Hindu nationalism in its cultural, social, as well as political variants continues to thrive in India.[1] The focus in this book on women is equally welcome as part of a larger body of scholarship that seeks to disaggregate the Hindu nationalist movement to understand how its various constituents operate alongside and sometimes against each other.
Menon conducted a year-long ethnography among individuals working in the Delhi chapters of several Hindu nationalist organizations: the Rashtra Sevika Samiti, the women’s organization directly linked to the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh; the Durga Vahini and Matri Shakti, women’s organizations related to the Vishwa Hindu Parishad; the Mahila Morcha, the women’s affiliate of the Bharatiya Janata Party; and Sewa Bharati, a social service organization that in Delhi concentrates mostly on providing educational and vocational training to Delhi’s poor urban communities. Her sustained interactions with forty-five women and ten men in the movement take her from ordinary chapter meetings to specialized retreats and nationalist rallies full of incendiary speeches. Her ethnography among her mostly middle-class and upper-caste participants attends to “the everyday constructions of ideology and politics through which activists garner support at the grassroots level.” To this end, she looks at how individual members and organizations use “history, religion, politics, and social work to articulate the everyday fears, desires, needs, and interests of diverse groups with the movements goals” (p. 5).
While Menon is interested in the pluralism of the Hindu nationalist movement itself, a quality that rests at the heart of the movement’s “expansionary strategies” (p. 5), her potentially more significant contribution is the examination of moments when individuals become what she calls “dissonant subjects,” transgressing the norms of the movement. In these moments, Menon sees an opportunity to examine “everyday acts that complicate our analysis of Hindu nationalist subjects” (p. 3), in particular the ability of movement leaders and movement structures to variously overlook, discipline, or incorporate dissonance. Menon engages these theoretical issues of Hindu nationalism’s pluralism and the role of dissonant subjects in her introductory chapter. The subsequent chapters are organized around the movement’s uses of historical narratives, the language of fear, a twinning of religious and political duty, volunteerism, and the use of games and fun. These are all examples of the common practices by which movement leaders inspire new recruits and instill a normative agenda, and Menon provides a valuable ethnographic snapshot of these everyday acts.
Menon notes that at times the normative emphasis among these women’s organizations is distinct from hegemonic Hindu nationalist discourses. Menon argues that it is through an accommodation of ideological or normative pluralism that the movement has been able to grow substantially among Indian women, as well as among other groups who might otherwise be alienated by rigidly enforced hegemonic and patriarchal norms. This is perhaps most clearly demonstrated in Menon’s analysis in chapter 1, where she takes up the subject of “everyday histories.” For example, in most dominant Hindu nationalist narratives, the seventeenth-century Maratha king Shivaji is valorized as the epitome of a righteous Hindu ruler and the progenitor of the modern Hindu nation. However, Menon finds that among the women of the Rashtra Sevika Samiti, the figure of Jijabai, Shivaji’s mother, is the generative force for a newly awakened Hindu politics in the early seventeenth century, an “architect of the Hindu Nation” (p. 47). The stories that circulate around Jijabai underscore the central role of motherhood for Menon’s interlocutors, one that allows individual women to make a deep impact on public, political events through the private choices they make for themselves, and most importantly, for their children.
In chapters 2 and 3, Menon interrogates the uses of fear and insecurity in the garnering of new recruits and the justification of certain kinds of social work. For example, in one conversation with a member of Sewa Bharati, we hear the position that the Hindu nationalist movement’s education outreach among Delhi’s lower-income communities is essential to countering the threats that conversion poses from minority religions, particularly Christianity. In the subsequent chapter, Menon examines the productive uses made of fears of Pakistan during the Kargil war. In her analysis of the speeches of female ascetics like Sadhvi Rithambara, Menon argues that it is “their dual status as renouncers and as women that makes these sadhvis such effective voices for the values, morals, and politics of the movement” (p. 82).
While chapter 3 draws from her fieldwork experiences at rallies and other significant occasions, Menon’s book is strongest and most illuminating when it takes us into the everyday world of work and play. In chapter 4, Menon presents material from her fieldwork among women in social service organizations. In the first part of the chapter Menon accompanies two VHP social workers in their volunteer time in the obstetric and gynecology unit of one of Delhi’s government hospitals. The two women play critical mediating roles for the largely poor, illiterate, and inexperienced patient population seeking prenatal attention. They routinely serve as stenographers, helping patients to input information for hospital registration, and in some cases they function as triage nurses, determining which patients require attention and which will most likely be sent home by the hospital staff. Here we get a more grounded sense of the vital social work that is done by individuals and organizations of the Hindu Right and how this work connects to the expansion of the movement among new communities.
Chapter 5 shifts the focus to a singular event, a weekend retreat, or shivir, organized by the Rashtra Sevika Samiti with the imperative to recruit new members. Organized games and play, physical exercises and drills, lectures, prayer, and patriotic songs structure the day’s activities, all with the aim to position new recruits “toward the cultural politics of the movement” (p. 131). Games and play are particularly apt strategies to “disseminate these ideas because they are able to convey Hindu nationalist constructions of history, politics, and morality without raising the hackles of those who might otherwise disagree with them” (p. 155).
Menon gives us a very good sense of the ideology and practices of the organizations and individuals with whom she interacts. There are a few places, however, where the reader might have wished for additional or perhaps different kinds of information to make sense of the larger argument. Among the occasions in which members of the Hindu nationalist movement become dissonant subjects we have the opening vignette, in which Ela, a volunteer in Sewa Bharati, expresses the opinion that “it is meaningless” to build a temple to Ram “on the blood of so many Indians” (p. 1). This views sits at odds with Ela’s own family history in the RSS, her own long-standing association with Sewa Bharati, and the focal nature of the efforts to build a temple at the former site of the Babri Masjid for the Hindu nationalist movement over the last several decades. Similarly, we hear that another Hindu nationalist, Vimla, doubts the authenticity of female renunciates, who merely “have to look spiritual” (p. 102) to be granted a life of wealth and luxury. Again, given sadhvis’ privileged position of deference and authority in the movement, and their importance to some of the arguments of Menon’s book, Vimla’s views seem jarring.
Menon’s focus on dissonance in the introductory chapter of the book alerts the reader to pay closer attention to the narratives of such moments, and her theoretical survey of this concept is valuable and provocative. However, as the book unfolds, its rich ethnographic documentation geared toward “dissonance” is not supplemented by a continued engagement with this vital idea. While episodes of dissonance like the ones described above are inherently interesting, there seems to be less rigorous pursuit of the questions surrounding these moments: How do individuals themselves understand their transgression of the movement’s norms? Are there potentially more radical consequences to this dissonance? Could such moments of dissonance constitute the germ for a potential subversion of hegemonic positions? Menon’s book comes at a time when the broad swath of the Hindu Right is in a moment of reinvention, and this work is therefore timely and important in this context. It is an important contribution to the discussion of Hindu nationalism, and its emphasis on the everyday practices of nationalist organizations helps to clarify the movement’s expansion outside of its early upper-caste and middle-class support base into lower-caste and lower-class communities and especially through gender as both a dissonant and a resonant category of experience for members of the Hindu Right. Menon has given us a rich view of women in the Hindu Right of northern India, and whatever questions she leaves unanswered are perhaps stimulants for new research agendas.
Note
[1]. In the 2009 Indian parliamentary elections, the Bharatiya Janata Party won 116 seats, enough to secure its position as the second largest political party after the centrist Indian National Congress, which won 206 seats. The BJP has a substantial political following in a number of state governments as well. Among the most populous states where it functions either as the sole party in power or as a coalition partner are Gujarat, Bihar, Madhya Pradesh, Punjab, Uttarakhand, and Jharkhand.
If there is additional discussion of this review, you may access it through the list discussion logs at: http://h-net.msu.edu/cgi-bin/logbrowse.pl.
Citation: Sunila Kale. Review of Menon, Kalyani Devaki, Everyday Nationalism: Women of the Hindu Right in India. H-Asia, H-Net Reviews. May, 2011.
URL: http://www.h-net.org/reviews/showrev.php?id=29835
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
October 27, 2012
Rape: Patriarchy: Selective Historiography
by Ram Puniyani
The spate of horrific rapes in Haryana in particular
(Sept 2012) has drawn the national attention to this abominable phenomenon.
Various diagnosis and prescriptions have also come forward about the causes and
as to how to prevent these rapes is also being suggested by different people. Interestingly
the world view of those advising on the issue is shaped their world view as
such. While the progressive liberal tendencies and ideologies will link the
phenomenon of rape to the prevalent uneven gender equations and so what follows
as a preventive measure is the need to empower women and strengthen liberal norms
in the society. The conservative opinions also have a wide shades of
understandings.
Not too long ago a police top cop in Hyderabad linked rape
to the clothes of girls, and he was applauded by the Rashtra Seviak Samiti [Rashtra Sevika Samiti], the
women’s organization subordinate to the RSS. There is caste equation also in
the phenomenon seen in caste atrocities where dalit women bear the large brunt
of the phenomenon, the worst of which was witnessed in Khairlanji. In communal
violence, the ‘women of other community’ are subjected to this humiliation. In
a way the bodies of women become the site of contestation amongst these social
groups, where women are regarded as the property of men.
In
the spate of recent shameful incidents, the notorious Khaps gave the dictat
that the age of marriage of girl should be lowered to 15 as now the girls reach
puberty early, before 11 years of age so this change should be exercised.
Omprakash Chautala, before retracting his statement later, said “In the
past, especially in Mughal era, people used to marry their girls to save them
from such atrocities. Currently a situation of similar kind is arising in
Haryana.” This formulation has lot of holes in it. Does marriage prevent rapes?
Married women are also subjected to this atrocity is too well known. Is it that
the early marriage for girls has become because of the atrocities of Mughals on
‘Hindu’ women? The latter formulation is also a part of social common sense
prevalent in the sections of society. Many an instances like Padminis’ Jauhar (Putting
oneself in the fire) to prevent being humiliated by the rival king and the army
is supposed to be one such example.
There is no doubt that many women might have
committed such suicides to save themselves from anticipated situation. In the
classic serial Tamas, a similar scene where women jump into the well to prevent
their humiliation also starkly comes to one’s mind. But is it that the Mughal
rule or the rule of Muslim kings in different parts of the country stands out
for such horrendous ignominies, while rulers of other religions were protecting
women? One recalls when Shivaji’s armies went to plunder Kalayan, apart from
other loot they also brought the ‘daughter in law’ of Kalyan’s ruler as a gift
for Shivaji. It is another matter that Shivaji sent her back with full honours.
The plunder of wealth and the humiliation, rape of women by different armies
was and is the part of the highhanded behaviour of the armies. Armies in the
past, irrespective of being Hindus, Muslims or Christian did it and are doing
it even now. One should shudder to think of the atrocities, which took place in
Bosnia and Rwanda. Closer home this is what took place and is taking place in
Kashmir or North East. The case of Manorama, who was abducted, raped and killed
by the Indian army, will be etched in the memory of the nation as a dark spot
on national conscience. After this event many a women protested in a most
shaming way, stripping and carrying a banner “Indian Army rape us”. The
phenomenon which has taken place has been due to the armed might of
Kings-Generals- armies. This is a phenomenon cutting across religions. Here in
India to attribute it to Muslims Kings and army alone is a part of ‘Communal
historiography’ presented in a selective way. Incidentally, communal
historiography is a way of presenting history through the prism of Kings’
religion, which was introduced in India by British to pursue their ‘divide and
rule’ policy. One should also remember that the armies of Mughal kings were
mixed, with Hindus and Muslims both being part of it. Do remember that the
Commander of Chief of Akbar was Raja Mansingh and Aurangzeb had Mirza Raja
Jaisingh as his associate.
As such the child marriage, early marriage and
marrying the girls before they attain puberty had become a part of ‘religion’
so to say. During nineteenth century when the reformers were calling for the
raise in the age of marriage of girls, the conservative sections argued that
the Hindu girls must cohabit with their husbands before their first menses. During
a debate on raising the age of consent for girls it was argued that raising the
age of consent to 12 would increase such a possibility of a girl having her
menses before cohabitation so such a move by the state will tantamount to the
ruler interfering in Hindu religion. The trends for early marriage and few
voices calling for the raise in the age of marriage has been debated since quite
few centuries and those wanting to increase the age of marriage could succeed
only gradually and more so after Independence. Even amongst Muslims the
conservative sections have been demanding the lowering of the age of marriage
for girls. Both conservative sections think alike, as the real issue is not
religion, but control over lives of women, strengthening patriarchy. This
patriarchy has been presented as the part of religious practice, and in that
way the imposition of patriarchal norms becomes easier.
Early marriage ensures a total slavery of the
girls, apart from other miseries which follow due to early child bearing apart
from the responsibility of household chores. The early marriage and pregnancy
is also a biological risk to the mother and the child. So the struggle as such is
between the attempt to rid the society of patriarchal control on one side and
re-imposing the feudal norms in current times on the other. It is no wonder
that Khaps, which are the most assertive in Haryana and other regions of North
India, is also the area where the atrocities against Dalits are on the peak and
the sex ratio is the lowest in the country. The agenda of these Khaps, the
exclusive male bodies, is very visible in this area in the form of caste and
gender subjugation. The Khaps, which are illegal, have been asserting and
giving dictats on intra gotra marriages and the cases which are equivalent of honour
killing are also visible on and off. Overall the likes of Chautala, may retract
their statement due to the pressures of political considerations, but their
articulations do express the reality of places like Haryana. The need for
social reform, women’s education-employment-empowerment is one of the keys to
overcome the fatwa’s of the self appointed lawmakers. These Khaps need to be
done away and Panchayats with 50% reservation for women need to be empowered as
per our Constitutional norms. The interesting point of the Haryana phenomenon
is that the major victims of their agenda, women and dalits, both are facing
the atrocities.
While multiple theories and opinions on why rape
as a phenomenon prevails, the major cause of this phenomenon, the patriarchy
and the uneven gender relations need to be highlighted to be able to go to the
root of the issue. Doing away with Khap and promoting the grass root democracy
through Panchayat system will be the way towards a more just, gender just, sans
the chains of the likes of Khap or their equivalents in some form or the other.
September 19, 2012
Hindutva Chauvinism and Patriarchy in Gujarat (Archana Prasad)
From: Peoples Democracy, Sep 9, 2012
by Archana Prasad
On August 29, 2012 the Washington Post published Narendra Modi's now famous statement that the increasing rates of malnutrition in Gujarat could be attributed to the beauty conscious middle class girls and dieting habits. He also reiterated that he "would not apologise for the Gujarat violence (2002)". A day later Maya Kodnani, Babu Bajrangi and 27 others were convicted for the Naroda Patiya massacre in the 2002 Gujarat genocide. The witnesses deposing before the courts emphasised on the mass atrocities against Muslim women and children, thus, highlighting the nature of the conviction. In the same week, the RSS weekly Panchjanya (August 25, 2012) also reported a comment by Shanta Akka, the newly appointed president of the Rashtra Sevika Samiti, who stated that the events in Assam were representative of the "evil designs" (rakshasi sanskriti) against Indian culture and therefore it was necessary that the forces of Hinduism be advanced. These seemingly unrelated incidents are bound together by an understanding that women and their organisations are carriers of the Hindutva ideology and the vision of a Hindu Rashtra that forms the basis of the Gujarat model of development. Here women become both, agents of Hindutva politics, as well as targets of violence perpetrated by Sangh Parivar organisations.
The main convict in the Naroda Patiya massacre, Mayaben Kodnani was the minister for women and child development and was forced to resign after she was charge sheeted in the Naroda Patiya case. A medical doctor by training Mayaben has been an active member of the Rashtra Sevika Samiti, the women's wing of the RSS and the primary organisation training women to become carriers of the Hindutva ideology. Formed in 1936 by Lakshmibai Kelkar, the Samiti describes itself as a "a cultural organisation of Hindu Women" whose main objective is to make women realise that they are "the foundation pillars of the nation taking into account their capacity to mould the family". The nation is "Bharat" whose concept is based on "bonds of love and affection" and nationhood which is synonymous with "Hindutwa" (sic). Thus the ideal woman and enlightened mother who in her capacity as a daughter, a sister, a wife and a mother is "strong physically, mentally, intellectually and spiritually" so that she can defend the nation and "create a deep sense of devotion and pride for nation, religion and culture". This is achieved through Rashtradharma, the core of which is the Hindu way of living. As Shanta Akka, the current chief of the Samiti in her speech on August 20, 2012, explains "we have also forgotten our fundamental life style due to this excessive propagandist approach adopted by them (the foreigners). Hence our mission is to reverse this trend and restore our fundamental lifestyle which gave more importance to the inner beauty than the beauty of the body". The core concept of enlightened motherhood imagines a national division of labour where women play a subordinated and traditional role of mothers and defenders of the faith.
The main task of the sevikas is to transform this idea into an organisation and a political programme that supports the plans of the larger Sangh Parivar. This is achieved through military and ideological training in 5215 daily shakhas that are run through 835 centres in the country. These shakhas respond to calls of the Sangh and multiply the Parivar through multiple organisations, especially since the late 1980s. Thus Sadhavi Rithambara, a sevika by training, founded the Durga Vahini which played an active role in the destruction of the Babri Mosque in Ayodhya. As reported, about 55,000 Durga Vahini people were active in the campaign with women from Maharashtra and Andhra Pradesh leading the charge. The organisational skills of the sevikas have also been in evidence in the Gujarat riots of 2002. Thus Mayaben Kodnani, a trained and active sevika, has been described by Special Court as the "kingpin of the Gujarat riots" who instigated and provided leadership to the rioters. In its final sentencing order the court also states that Kodnani was "immensely favoured by the then investigation agencies" who attempted to influence all victims to ensure that her "involvement does not come on the books". Hence it is quite clear that the Sangh Parivar unsuccessfully worked in tandem with the state government to ensure that this sevika was safe from the due process of law. In this sense, the training of the sevikas and their socialisation as agents of Hindutva has been crucial in supporting the Modi and his cover up of the role of the government in the 2002 genocide.
Thus, Mayaben Kodnani represents the Sangh's incorporation of women into its agenda of building a Hindu Rashtra. By the same measure the atrocities perpetrated on Muslim women by the Hindutva brigade in 2002 can also be seen as the ugly expression of Hindutva's patriarchal identity. Eye witness accounts of the Naroda Patiya victims clearly indicate the organised and systematic way in which women were targeted after "exciting speeches by Mayaben Kodnani". The first incident destroying the Noorani Mosque on February 28, 2012 was inspired by her and thereafter several witnesses have recorded that she moved about with different male mobs urging them to "finish off the miyans". She distributed swords, kerosene and other weapons which were common instruments of molestation and assault in the massacre. This political support emboldened the mobs and inspired them to perpetrate the most brutal and worst crimes on women. That the crime was organised and perpetrated by leading functionaries of the Sangh Parivar is narrated by the courageous witnesses of the Naroda Patiya massacre. In her testimony, Reshmabanu Nadimbhai Sayid (witness 142) records how her pregnant sister, Kausharbanu was pulled away by leading Bajrang Dal activists, Suresh Langda and Bhawani Singh, who took out the unborn foetus splitting her abdomen by a sword. Both were then burnt alive.
Another gruesome tale is told by Naimuddin Ibrahim Shaikh (witness 148) who witnessed the gang rape of his wife Zarina. He says that the mob cut off both the hands of his wife with a sword, stripped her till the she was totally naked. In another testimony, Siddiquebhai Alabaksh Mansuri (witness 236) illustrated that Mayaben led a mob that burnt women and children alive. These medieval means and methods of attack displayed a sense of helplessness of the Muslim women victims, and a sense of dominating power of the male Hindutva brigade. The Naroda Patiya judgement and its evidences may take many months to analyse, but they have given a window of opportunity to democratic women's organisations. The absence of a strong democratic women's movement has resulted in tragic consequences for the women of Naroda Patiya. But their courage has also highlighted the need for exposing the fascist and patriarchal character of Modi's social and political programme. The expansion of the democratic women's movement in this region is an urgent need and mass mobilisations need to reach out to all classes of women, especially with the impending Gujarat elections. This will help in countering the hegemonic influence of organisations like the Rashtra Sevika Samiti who are playing a crucial role in the communal polarisation of women.
http://pd.cpim.org/2012/0909_pd/09092012_19.html
by Archana Prasad
On August 29, 2012 the Washington Post published Narendra Modi's now famous statement that the increasing rates of malnutrition in Gujarat could be attributed to the beauty conscious middle class girls and dieting habits. He also reiterated that he "would not apologise for the Gujarat violence (2002)". A day later Maya Kodnani, Babu Bajrangi and 27 others were convicted for the Naroda Patiya massacre in the 2002 Gujarat genocide. The witnesses deposing before the courts emphasised on the mass atrocities against Muslim women and children, thus, highlighting the nature of the conviction. In the same week, the RSS weekly Panchjanya (August 25, 2012) also reported a comment by Shanta Akka, the newly appointed president of the Rashtra Sevika Samiti, who stated that the events in Assam were representative of the "evil designs" (rakshasi sanskriti) against Indian culture and therefore it was necessary that the forces of Hinduism be advanced. These seemingly unrelated incidents are bound together by an understanding that women and their organisations are carriers of the Hindutva ideology and the vision of a Hindu Rashtra that forms the basis of the Gujarat model of development. Here women become both, agents of Hindutva politics, as well as targets of violence perpetrated by Sangh Parivar organisations.
The main convict in the Naroda Patiya massacre, Mayaben Kodnani was the minister for women and child development and was forced to resign after she was charge sheeted in the Naroda Patiya case. A medical doctor by training Mayaben has been an active member of the Rashtra Sevika Samiti, the women's wing of the RSS and the primary organisation training women to become carriers of the Hindutva ideology. Formed in 1936 by Lakshmibai Kelkar, the Samiti describes itself as a "a cultural organisation of Hindu Women" whose main objective is to make women realise that they are "the foundation pillars of the nation taking into account their capacity to mould the family". The nation is "Bharat" whose concept is based on "bonds of love and affection" and nationhood which is synonymous with "Hindutwa" (sic). Thus the ideal woman and enlightened mother who in her capacity as a daughter, a sister, a wife and a mother is "strong physically, mentally, intellectually and spiritually" so that she can defend the nation and "create a deep sense of devotion and pride for nation, religion and culture". This is achieved through Rashtradharma, the core of which is the Hindu way of living. As Shanta Akka, the current chief of the Samiti in her speech on August 20, 2012, explains "we have also forgotten our fundamental life style due to this excessive propagandist approach adopted by them (the foreigners). Hence our mission is to reverse this trend and restore our fundamental lifestyle which gave more importance to the inner beauty than the beauty of the body". The core concept of enlightened motherhood imagines a national division of labour where women play a subordinated and traditional role of mothers and defenders of the faith.
The main task of the sevikas is to transform this idea into an organisation and a political programme that supports the plans of the larger Sangh Parivar. This is achieved through military and ideological training in 5215 daily shakhas that are run through 835 centres in the country. These shakhas respond to calls of the Sangh and multiply the Parivar through multiple organisations, especially since the late 1980s. Thus Sadhavi Rithambara, a sevika by training, founded the Durga Vahini which played an active role in the destruction of the Babri Mosque in Ayodhya. As reported, about 55,000 Durga Vahini people were active in the campaign with women from Maharashtra and Andhra Pradesh leading the charge. The organisational skills of the sevikas have also been in evidence in the Gujarat riots of 2002. Thus Mayaben Kodnani, a trained and active sevika, has been described by Special Court as the "kingpin of the Gujarat riots" who instigated and provided leadership to the rioters. In its final sentencing order the court also states that Kodnani was "immensely favoured by the then investigation agencies" who attempted to influence all victims to ensure that her "involvement does not come on the books". Hence it is quite clear that the Sangh Parivar unsuccessfully worked in tandem with the state government to ensure that this sevika was safe from the due process of law. In this sense, the training of the sevikas and their socialisation as agents of Hindutva has been crucial in supporting the Modi and his cover up of the role of the government in the 2002 genocide.
Thus, Mayaben Kodnani represents the Sangh's incorporation of women into its agenda of building a Hindu Rashtra. By the same measure the atrocities perpetrated on Muslim women by the Hindutva brigade in 2002 can also be seen as the ugly expression of Hindutva's patriarchal identity. Eye witness accounts of the Naroda Patiya victims clearly indicate the organised and systematic way in which women were targeted after "exciting speeches by Mayaben Kodnani". The first incident destroying the Noorani Mosque on February 28, 2012 was inspired by her and thereafter several witnesses have recorded that she moved about with different male mobs urging them to "finish off the miyans". She distributed swords, kerosene and other weapons which were common instruments of molestation and assault in the massacre. This political support emboldened the mobs and inspired them to perpetrate the most brutal and worst crimes on women. That the crime was organised and perpetrated by leading functionaries of the Sangh Parivar is narrated by the courageous witnesses of the Naroda Patiya massacre. In her testimony, Reshmabanu Nadimbhai Sayid (witness 142) records how her pregnant sister, Kausharbanu was pulled away by leading Bajrang Dal activists, Suresh Langda and Bhawani Singh, who took out the unborn foetus splitting her abdomen by a sword. Both were then burnt alive.
Another gruesome tale is told by Naimuddin Ibrahim Shaikh (witness 148) who witnessed the gang rape of his wife Zarina. He says that the mob cut off both the hands of his wife with a sword, stripped her till the she was totally naked. In another testimony, Siddiquebhai Alabaksh Mansuri (witness 236) illustrated that Mayaben led a mob that burnt women and children alive. These medieval means and methods of attack displayed a sense of helplessness of the Muslim women victims, and a sense of dominating power of the male Hindutva brigade. The Naroda Patiya judgement and its evidences may take many months to analyse, but they have given a window of opportunity to democratic women's organisations. The absence of a strong democratic women's movement has resulted in tragic consequences for the women of Naroda Patiya. But their courage has also highlighted the need for exposing the fascist and patriarchal character of Modi's social and political programme. The expansion of the democratic women's movement in this region is an urgent need and mass mobilisations need to reach out to all classes of women, especially with the impending Gujarat elections. This will help in countering the hegemonic influence of organisations like the Rashtra Sevika Samiti who are playing a crucial role in the communal polarisation of women.
http://pd.cpim.org/2012/0909_pd/09092012_19.html
August 29, 2000
Pragmatics of the Hindu Right (Tanika Sarkar)
Economic and Political Weekly, No. 31, July 31, 1999
The Rashtrasevika Samiti, the women's wing of the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh, was in expansive mood during the Ram Janmabhoomi movement. Now, it has reduced to a small, bounded, non-expansive affair like the good, modest, non-competitive Hindu woman. What is the significance of this new accent? The significance lies in the Samiti's women being the custodians of essential values and ideology of the RSS, which the other front of the latter have diluted and imperilled in their electoral preoccupations. And if at all the electoral battle is won, the Samiti women, being exemplars of purity and domesticity, will share along with their male counterparts of the RSS the bright future of Hindu rashtra as defenders of tradition against the west and partners in internal colonisation of Muslims and Christians.
FOR FULL TEXT SEE: http://www.epw.in/special-articles/pragmatics-hindu-right.html
The Rashtrasevika Samiti, the women's wing of the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh, was in expansive mood during the Ram Janmabhoomi movement. Now, it has reduced to a small, bounded, non-expansive affair like the good, modest, non-competitive Hindu woman. What is the significance of this new accent? The significance lies in the Samiti's women being the custodians of essential values and ideology of the RSS, which the other front of the latter have diluted and imperilled in their electoral preoccupations. And if at all the electoral battle is won, the Samiti women, being exemplars of purity and domesticity, will share along with their male counterparts of the RSS the bright future of Hindu rashtra as defenders of tradition against the west and partners in internal colonisation of Muslims and Christians.
FOR FULL TEXT SEE: http://www.epw.in/special-articles/pragmatics-hindu-right.html
Labels:
Hindutva,
Rashtra Sevika Samiti,
RSS,
tradition,
women
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