To Be Precise
Credit: DH Illustration
The Congress spokesperson, Supriya Shrinate, a familiar face on TV, recently found herself in a corner. A vulgar social media post about the BJP’s Mandi candidate, Kangana Ranaut, appeared on Shrinate’s account. As a former journalist and experienced public figure, it is difficult to believe that Shrinate herself would publish such an offensive post. As she subsequently clarified, it is likely the post was created by a trigger-happy member of her social media team attempting to create instant virality. In the same week as the Shrinate-Ranaut fracas, BJP’s Bengal leader Dilip Ghosh publicly cast aspersions on the parentage of Bengal Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee. Both controversies once again revealed the deep misogyny that lies under the surface of India’s public life.
There’s a curious dichotomy: on the one hand, we reflexively taunt, mock, caricature, and demonise visible women, yet on the other, we laud the achievements of women pilots, scientists, and sports stars. Political parties are all actively seeking women’s votes, yet hardly any big party is willing to share real power with women. The ruling BJP touts ‘Nari Shakti’ as one of its main messages but disdainfully ignores a series of serious complaints of sexual harassment made by women Olympic medal winners about the party’s star MP, Brij Bhushan Sharan Singh.
The political arena is supremely misogynistic and hostile to women, even though there is now a law providing 33% reservations for women in legislatures. Notwithstanding pious declarations about women’s empowerment, politics remains a bastion of exclusive male networks. Even visible women struggle to break the glass ceiling. Even though she was Jawaharlal Nehru’s daughter, Indira Gandhi was jeered at in Parliament as a goongi gudiya. Among chief ministers, Mamata Banerjee is the only woman leader in India who has risen to the top without the support of a male patron. Jayalalithaa and Mayawati had the support of powerful men like MG Ramachandran and Kanshi Ram, and Mehbooba Mufti and Vasundhara Raje had the support of their parents and powerful families. Throughout her career, Mamata Banerjee has endured dreadful insults: the CPI (M) leader Anil Basu called her a sex worker, and another leader, Anisur Rahman, derisively asked, “If you are raped, what will be your fee?” Left leader Gautam Deb said Mamata had experienced “brain death.”
The media taunts and mocks women leaders in a way it never does male politicians. Mayawati’s pink salwar kameezes and birthday cakes, Jayalalithaa’s imperiousness, even the way Smriti Irani has often been referred to as “Tulsi” (a popular but shrewish character she played in a TV show), show the media’s tendency to abnormalize visible women. The Congress’s Sanjay Nirupam once referred to Irani as “thumka lagane wali.” None other than PM Modi kept cat-calling Mamata Banerjee throughout the 2021 assembly election campaign as "Didi, oh Didi.” Modi even likened the Congress leader Renuka Chowdhury’s laugh to a demon’s cackle, even as his party jeered and hooted. Assertive and ambitious women in politics are often dubbed "rebellious,” "mercurial,” "unpredictable,” and “shrill.” A similarly ambitious male would be hailed as "dynamic," "forceful," "awesome,” and "macho." The adjectives create gender apartheid.
When women politicians rise through the ranks, they are expected to remain within an acceptable groove, consigned to a secondary enclave in which they can play out their limited ambitions as a supporting cast to male bosses. If women politicians attempt to carve out their own identity or aim for top billing, they are termed “rebels.” Two-time Rajasthan chief minister Vasundhara Raje was well on her way to becoming a significant regional satrap in her own right. But her ambitions were not welcomed by her party, and she was cut to size after the 2023 Rajasthan assembly polls. Raje was not only denied the CM’s chair but also not included in the BJP’s decision-making top echelon. Even if women have served as competent chief ministers and left a stamp on the administration (as Raje did), they must temper their aspirations and not seek to rise further. Uma Bharti led her party to a massive victory in 2003 in Madhya Pradesh but was known to speak her mind. She even went as far as staging an outburst on TV after the 2004 general elections. Bharti was immediately dubbed a “rebel” and has been marginalised in her party ever since. The late Sushma Swaraj was a highly effective politician, but she was never considered equal to her male colleagues in the truest sense. She lost out in the power battle within the BJP and was never seen as a prime ministerial candidate, even though she was probably the best parliamentarian of her generation. There’s an invisible lakshman rekha within most parties—thus far and no further. Nirmala Sitharaman has broken new ground by becoming the first woman to solely hold a finance portfolio. But Sitharaman remains an unelected appointee, not a political heavyweight with her own support base.
Politics only mirrors the rest of society, where misogyny is still rife in many sectors. Women are dropping out of India’s workforce at an alarming rate. Women made up 35% of the workforce in 2005, which dropped to 22% in 2022, according to a CMIE report. In 2022, only 10% of working-age women were employed or seeking jobs. Safe spaces for women are relatively rare. After an assault on a tourist in Jharkhand this month, concerns were raised about the safety of women tourists in India. Women journalists and public figures are mercilessly hounded on social media. Yet paradoxically, women are increasing their presence in all fields like sports and entrepreneurship; a prime example is the remarkable success of India’s Women’s Premier League.
In politics, pathways for women can be found if parties adopt a modern approach and resist pseudo-traditionalism. Greater representation is key. The TMC has given 30% tickets to women in the Lok Sabha polls, the only party to do so. The BJP, in its first list, has given less than 15% of tickets to women. The panchayat model of women’s participation needs to spread to all parties, and we need to keep calling out misogyny in whichever party it rears its head. Cash handouts are not enough. Shockingly enough, 78% of the Beti Bachao Beti Padhao scheme was spent on advertising. As citizens, we all need to look inward and challenge patriarchal attitudes we may hold within. (These attitudes exist in men and women.) The battle against misogyny has only just begun.
(The writer is a Member of Parliament (Rajya Sabha), Trinamool Congress)