I
guess it’s each of us, every man and woman, walking the face of the planet.
“You
can’t handle the truth.” We all remember that famous line uttered by Col.
Jessep (Jack Nicholson) in the film ‘A Few Good Men’. Those words were hallowed as I watched Indian parliamentarians debating the fate of a BBC
documentary in Rajya Sabha. The film, India’s Daughter,
was scheduled to be aired on Sunday, March 8, coinciding with International
Women’s Day. It would be simultaneously shown in seven other countries
including India, Switzerland, Norway and Canada.
Each
country has its own appalling record of violence against its daughters. India
has a population of 1.2 billion. A rape occurs every 20 minutes. In England and
Wales, 85,000 women are raped every year. One in five Danish women has
experienced a sexual assault. What is writ conspicuously in India’s Daughter,
but camouflaged in other countries where gender equality is more strongly
embedded in law, is the low value placed on females and the determination of
some men, educated as well as the impoverished, to keep women oppressed.
The
documentary, made by Israel-born British filmmaker Leslee Udwin, centers around
the barbaric gang rape of a 23-year old student, dubbed ‘Nirbhaya’ (the
fearless), on the streets of New Delhi, India’s capital, on a cold December
evening in 2012. It charts Nirbhaya’s journey on that fateful evening as she
was brutally violated by five men and a 17-year-old (“the juvenile”) in a
moving bus, eviscerated, then thrown on to the street. It shows how, for the
next 30 days across India, women and men demonstrated on the streets of various
cities as Nirbhaya battled for her life and eventually succumbed to her grave
injuries. These citizens were calling for the gender equality recognized in
India’s constitution but never delivered, marking what a former solicitor
general, Gopal Subramaniam, calls in the film “a momentous expression of hope
for society.”
“It
was an Arab spring for gender equality,” Udwin says. “What impelled me to leave
my husband and two children for two years while I made the film in India was
not so much the horror of the rape as the inspiring and extraordinary eruption
on the streets. A cry of ‘enough is enough’. Unprecedented numbers of ordinary
men and women, day after day, faced a ferocious government crackdown that
included teargas, baton charges and water cannon. They were protesting for my
rights and the rights of all women. That gives me optimism. I can’t recall
another country having done that in my lifetime.” Leslee Udwin can espouse such
sentiments – she is a survivor of rape.
The
Government of India, thus far, has not shared Udwin’s views. It has got a court
injunction on the airing of the documentary after outrage by a section of the
media, a few activists and some Parliamentarians over what they saw as
glorification of the rapists. The dissenters have made up their mind that the
film is insulting to Nirbhaya without even waiting to watch it. Well it’s a
familiar story with every ban in India. The most outraged are by far the most
ignorant.
Because
of India Government’s move and the heightened public interest, BBC decided to
air the documentary on Wednesday, March 4. I was intrigued by the controversy
surrounding the film; luckily I found a copy on YouTube. (It was subsequently
removed due to BBC’s copyright issue.) The powerful, brave and heart-wrenching
documentary provokes grief and anger but also evokes pity for the ignorance.
In
the film, Mukesh Singh, who is among four men convicted and sentenced to death
for the 2012 rape and murder (the fifth accused, Mukesh’s elder brother Ram,
had committed suicide in jail) says “a girl is far more responsible for rape
than a boy.” He adds: “A decent girl won’t roam around at 9 o’clock at night. Housework
and housekeeping is for girls, not roaming in discos and bars at night doing
wrong things, wearing wrong clothes.”
These
comments have brought a firestorm in the media, being seen as insensitive and
denigrating to women, and apparently caused “huge embarrassment” to the Indian
Government. What sensitivity one might expect of a school dropout, living a
rough-and-tumble life on the fringe of the society? These individuals are
brought up in an environment where women are treated as items of consumption
and men get free reign to exercise their control.
The
more unsettling remarks are made by the defense lawyer AP Singh when he says:
“If my daughter or sister engaged in pre-marital activities and disgraced
herself and allowed herself to lose face and character by doing such things, I
would most certainly take this sort of sister or daughter to my farmhouse, and
in front of my entire family, I would put petrol on her and set her alight.”
Asked
at a later point in the film if he stands by those comments, he replies in the
affirmative. To me, the remarks by both defense lawyers (ML Sharma being the
other), reflect a larger disrespect for women in Indian society. These
individuals come across as strong proponents of the ‘honor system’, a hallmark
of the patriarchal society that they represent. However, these professionals
are afraid to acknowledge the truth that their misogynistic views are what
causing their championed institution to fail in ‘protecting’ their women.
To
me, the Supreme Court that is yet to pass judgment on the original verdict and
sentencing and, therefore, withholding ‘justice’ from Nirbhaya’s family, is
afraid of facing the truth of its inefficiency. Political machinery propped up
by elected rapists in the Parliament (250 according to the defense lawyer AP
Singh) is afraid of facing the truth of its moral bankruptcy.
A
death-row inmate, who appeared to be repeating his lawyer-prepared statements,
is less likely to show remorse for his actions by seeking the truth (until his
final moment arrives). Rather, I feel sorry when Mukesh Singh acknowledges that
he became aware of the background of his victim and of her life’s dream only
during the course of the trial. Till then, his ‘victim’ was a nameless
stranger, who had no identity. The humanity in him never took root.
I
feel sorry when I read that 44 per cent of college students “agree that women
have no choice but to accept a certain degree of violence.” What kind of future
are we offering our future generations? Is it going to be any different from
the current society that refuses to put any value in women?
On
Wednesday, Delhi police said it feared that the film’s screening could “create
a situation of tension and fear amongst women in the society” and that a ban on
the documentary was required “in the interest of justice and maintenance of
public order.”
“The
real ‘embarrassment’ India needs to confront is its own horrific reality… and
the shame that goes with it. Not a bold documentary,” columnist Shobhaa De
wrote in a recent article published on the NDTV news station website.
As
the film alternates between interviews, mostly of the bereaved parents, and
recreation of the events, I grow sympathetic to the quandary of the Indian society.
I feel our refusal to seek out truth in any situation has done our society more
harm than good. Nowhere this is more starkly evident than on the issues of
gender equality.
Yet,
we must, we have to.
Or,
as Nirbhaya would have said, “I have to do, and I can.”
[SUBHODEV DAS]
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