Rape: The problem with our selective outrage

We hit the road only when one of our own is brutalised while remaining conveniently blind to gender terror being unleashed on the socio-economically less privileged

FirstPost, 26 August, 2013

Journalist, or specifically photo-journalist, raped in Mumbai, screamed the headlines. The next day, journalists of Mumbai hit the road, seeking justice. Their colleagues from Assam to Ahmedabad join the protest. I find it worrisome.

 Of course, every Indian should feel outraged at what happened at the Mahalaxmi mill. But did the victim pay for being a journalist? Would the lovers association of India, if there were such an organisation, hold protest rallies if it was a love-struck couple that was assaulted instead of two photo journalists? Would the medical or legal fraternity stage sit-ins unless a doctor or a lawyer is raped by a patient or a client?

We tend to hit the road only when one of our own is targeted. Now think back to the massive outrage at the brutal Delhi gang rape in December last year. That protest was mostly concerned about the safety of the urban middle class. Forget those lakhs of victims raped and assaulted all across the hinterland every day, did we ever bother to ask about the underclass in our big, bad cities? The domestic helps who consider it an occupational hazard, the street hawkers harassed for “hafta” and the homeless pavement dwellers picked up in the night by cops and ruffians alike? No, it takes a middle class victim in a middle class situation at a middle class hour to shake us, the middle class, up.

Protests in Mumbai. AP

In Mumbai, the professional identity of the young photo-journalist was incidental. She was not brutalised by the five men because they resented her job in general or her assignment in particular. She could be any woman, vulnerable at that point of time. Therefore, the protest by journalists only shows the discomfort of the privileged lot at not being beyond the grasp of criminals. Much like the insecurity of the Delhi middle class at the possibility of rape in a moving bus on a busy road at a busy hour.

Then again, the privileged — journalists, doctors, lawyers, the middle class — can hit the road and get noticed, on primetime television. What about those who can’t even register their cases? Imagine the outcome of a group of tribals trying to rally in protest against routine sexual harassment they suffer in many parts of the country. Or the homeless or the slum dwellers in a metro agitating against nightly police excesses. They do not because they know they would be taken to task by the forces and no candlelight-happy media will guard them through the nights.

I raised this point in the aftermath of the Delhi gang rape last year and I am compelled to reiterate because the so-called national debate has changed nothing in our attitude since. Can we respect women in a system that does not respect anything but money and power? Can we make them feel safer in a predominantly violent society where men are not lesser victims? Unfortunately, the might of both money and power is relative and hence the outrage of the middle class or the more privileged sections of it (such as journalists).

Only some rapists are driven only by sex. More often, rape is a power statement. Men rape women who ‘belong to’ other men. Men rape women as punishment. Men rape women because they can. That is why most rapes happen within families. Strangers also rape and the startling majority of them belong to the armed forces and the militias. It has been going on in Kashmir, the North-East and along the red corridor from Bihar to Andhra Pradesh. And not only the armed forces, police and insurgents, feudal armies too run riot across the length and breadth of rural India.

Yet, our conscience is jolted only when she is brutalised in a Delhi bus or in a Mumbai mill. Yes, that something so brazen could happen in our big cities reflects the extent of lawlessness in the less governed parts of the country. But rape cannot be fought selectively. Women will never be safe if security is extended to one social class and not the other. When we vent our anger at the VIPs, when we raise slogans that the only women safe in Delhi are Sonia and Sheila, we forget that millions of rural or poor Indian women may well feel that safety is the sole entitlement of their well-to-do city counterparts.

Sentencing the Delhi bus or Mumbai mill rapists cannot bring the victims true justice if a thousand others continue to walk free across the country. The time, place and identity of the victim are only changing parameters that should not determine how we respond to rape. Every assault that goes unpunished anywhere is an encouragement to rapists everywhere. It is really all or nothing — no woman will ever really feel safe if another does not.