Shefalee Vasudev -The rise of misogyny // Tejpal’s identity politics
The thousands of comments pouring in as responses to reports on the Tarun Tejpal rape accusation case as well as other crimes against women point to an intensifying tide of misogyny in society. In the many obstacles that the evolution of India as a feminist state will face—if it ever becomes one in the long run—this could be the biggest one. A large number of male readers with time and inclination to post comments on the Internet believe that a majority of rape victims are “crazy” women out to misuse the laws framed to protect them.
While some freely abuse female victims of heinous and degrading crimes, calling them perpetrators of “injustice” against men and thus endangering the “future” of Indian society, others still continue to believe that every woman who has been molested has been deservedly punished for inviting a certain attention to herself. Some comments on Internet sites go as far as to suggest that organizations stop hiring women employees. According to them, that’s the only way to limit organizational hassles and protect “honourable” men from being labelled criminals. All may be old theories. What’s new though is the numbers steadily crossing over to the side of misogyny. On the one hand is the rise of the male feminist who was a clear oddity in India even 10 years ago, but who made a noticeable entry during the Delhi gang-rape case. On the other is the rise of the misogynists who aren’t just questioning women’s character as societies have done for centuries but are also misreading court rulings and amended laws as political conspiracies that disregard men’s rights. That’s scary. The two genders no longer wish the best for each other. They invest more in doubt than in trust.
For this piece, I attempted to list all articles on the Web about theTehelka case since last week and review the comments under them. “Whacko men, why are you wasting your time?” said one in a group of female friends I discussed this with. “They are creeps, come on, you can’t go by what the losers say,” said another. “These are the guys who eventually turn rapists,” added the first one. I don’t think it’s so simplistic. In fact, it is hazardous to group all men as predators and potential rapists. Besides, should we ignore what may be a revealing part of public opinion by assuming that such views are only being posted by so-called “creeps”? Surely, some among such comment writers are indeed of this variety and use the Internet to belt out profanities and perversions.
At the same time, let’s not forget that the most credible media sites now edit and filter reader observations, largely allowing acceptably worded views to seep in. But even if we presume that people who write under anonymous names are those whose views don’t matter on sociological turning points, the fact is that they, too, are governed by the same state, are dependent on the same police force, go through similarly disillusioning law and order experiences and whose voices will turn into votes when the next set of political leaders is elected to power.
Indians are riddled with an overall suspicion of everything: the police, judiciary, law, media, politicians and even social relationships. But misogyny is a toxic disease and needs urgent attention. More rape and molestation cases that reveal the big and small details of the trauma that victims have to live through have woken up even the skeptics to the ground realities. Yet, what is mounting is wariness between the two genders, even in urban and liberal groups. Why do so many Indian men hate women? Unless addressed, this anger could actually lead to more crimes against women, as my friend tried to point out.
Opinions stand deeply divided on every sexual misdemeanour case, regardless of police complaints, arrests or even court judgments—from the Tejpal case to allegations against Asaram Bapu; from politician Gopal Kanda’s role in the alleged sexual exploitation and abetment of suicide of flight attendant Geetika Sharma to even the Delhi gang-rape where many people (including women) questioned the victim’s sanity over “walking about at night with a male friend”. That makes it an opinionated mess out there instead of contemporary awareness and search for the real causes behind what’s going on. It is high time we talk pointedly and candidly inside organizations; with our men friends and through media channels about why Indian men and women don’t trust anyone, anything, anymore. If an injured society waits too long before worrying about healing, the wounds could become fatal.
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Of the many major and mini debates sparked by the Tarun Tejpal case and Tehelka managing editor Shoma Chaudhury’s subsequent see-saw stands on the charges against him, one is on the issue of feminist identity. We are all familiar with the argument that we have not just one but several identities. Each identity has a rhetorical component acquired from the prevailing zeitgeist, the spirit of our times, but another is revealed when that one is put under stress. Our self-image is derived from the label of the day: We may be communists, secularists, nationalists, free-thinkers or feminists, stitching our public personas to accord with these labels. We may even adhere to these principles. But what the Tehelka case has shown is that identities are fragile and likely to crumble.
Chaudhury has let her feminist identity slip in the face of fire. While Tejpal’s bail application on Tuesday to the Delhi high court, with his sardonic comments on the girl’s behaviour after alleged molestation, makes it clear that the man who once professed to be a humanist, realist and feminist now thinks little of raising absurd arguments in a morally weakening case. As expected, TV channels took to furious debates on Tuesday evening. One kind of outrage replacing another seldom leads to better perspective but the way some of Indian media’s senior-most representatives continue to dissect the Tejpal case (also revealing their own rhetorical identities) deserves attention.
Last week, when the news first broke, as a journalist privy to at least some politics between different media houses, I was playing a guessing game with journalist friends and colleagues. Let’s now see who is vocal in their criticism of Tejpal—known as one of this country’s most important and incisive journalists, whose voice has added credibility to our profession. I said this with scepticism, curious how veteran journalists like Outlook’s Vinod Mehta, The Indian Express’ Shekhar Gupta, the legendary M.J. Akbar,The Pioneer’s Chandan Mitra, India Today’s Aroon Purie, The Hindu’s N. Ram and Hindustan Times’ Vir Sanghvi would react in public. Who would be the first to join the condemnation committee now that the bell has begun to toll? Some like Gupta, Akbar and Sanghvi have remained quiet but the tone and content of reportage in the publications they edit gives away what they think. For a journalist like me who has worked under some of these editors, exposure to their opinions when it is time to hang one of our own is crucial to understanding the journalism of our times. Urged by TV heavyweights like Karan Thapar, Rajdeep Sardesai, Barkha Dutt, Nidhi Razdan and Arnab Goswami, who have provoked many gradations of anger and analysis on TV, we know where the big daddies stand on this. At least what their journalistic identities are. “Did our tone become mocking or is this mocking justified?” questioned Thapar on his show Devil’s Advocate, adding the right logs into the fire.
What stands unmasked now is not only Tejpal as a seemingly desperate slanderer but also how Tarun Tejpal the journalist has come out so differently from Tarun Tejpal the rape accused. We can only imagine what Tejpal would have said as a panellist on such a debate. The fact that his rhetorical self is so contrary to his real self is no small revelation. It shows that the stands we take as opinion-makers may not be our only identity as journalists.Turning the lens inward, I have begun to wonder if frothing-at-the-mouth feminism, which works like an adrenalin pump when we take our sides as journalists, is only a politically correct, mood-of-the-moment garb instead of a personal commitment? In his book Identity And Violence: The Illusion of Destiny, Nobel laureate Amartya Sen wrote of myriad identities inside individuals, arguing why identity becomes destiny. In Tejpal’s case, it is ironical to see how his real self is throttling his rhetorical self, directing, in a way, his destiny. At least as a journalist. Would Messrs William Dalrymple and Namita Gokhale consider this as a subject of literary debate at the 2014 Jaipur Literary Festival? Tejpal can be the poster boy this once too
