VIOLENCE AGAINST WOMEN | ASIA | ADVOCACY & POLICY | CULTURE
Whose Pain Matters?
Part I: The Selective Outrage in India's Fight Against Sexual Violence
WORDS BY MUDITHA RUPAVATH | M.RUPAVA@THEIWI.ORG | 4 SEPTEMBER 2024
Whose Pain Matters? Part II: Hierarchies of Caste Systems and Religion in India
Sexual violence is one of the most prevalent and grim realities in India, with thousands of cases of rape reported every year. However, the response of the nation to such horrific atrocities is much diversified. Some cases raise all sorts of media frenzy, public condemnations, and rallies across the country, others, often related to women from marginalized areas, seldom or never show up on public radars. This reflects the disparity at the very intersectionality of caste, religion, and gender in India, and how these biases run deeper inside the very structure that shapes not just societal but also media attitudes. Negligence is common in the cases of Muslim, Adivasi, and Bahujan women, whose stories and voices are usually buried in the national narrative.
Selective outrage is more than just a societal oversight, it is a manifestation of deeply rooted biases and prejudices. It's not unusual that the cases that elicit the most empathy and agitation include victims who correspond to a specific profile-young, urban, educated, and frequently from upper-caste families. People protest and demand accountability when they believe the victim is a "sister," "daughter," or "friend" from their own social circles. This emotional connection drives movements and forces authorities to take action quickly. When the victim deviates from this profile, the collective empathy diminishes.
Victims from marginalized populations, such as Dalits, Bahujans, Adivasis, or Muslims, frequently face muted public reaction. These communities have historically endured institutional oppression and social exclusion, and the empathy gap for their plight is the product of deeply entrenched social hierarchies. Crimes against marginalized women may not elicit the same level of public outrage or support because the dominant social order subconsciously undervalues their experiences. Dehumanisation driven by caste and religious discrimination normalizes violence against these communities, making it less likely that society will stand by them. This dehumanization extends to both the media and the judicial system where violence against women from marginalized populations is typically overlooked or downplayed.
Selective outrage is more than just a societal oversight, it is a manifestation of deeply rooted biases and prejudices.....
Media bias exacerbates this type of selective sympathy. Media plays a crucial role in shaping public perception and driving societal responses to issues of sexual violence. However, the media landscape in India is frequently influenced by sensationalism, political ties, and market considerations. Cases involving middle or upper-class victims in urban settings are more likely to receive extensive coverage because they appeal to various media outlets' target audiences. Crimes against marginalized women, on the other hand, are typically underreported or phrased in a way that downplays the gravity of the crime.
The societal empathy bias towards the marginalized women in India has been intrinsically intertwined with historical stereotypes and cultural narratives that have been used to explain and justify their abuse. These biases are not of contemporary attitude origin but long-standing social, religious, and colonial history influencing perceptions about marginalized women.
One harmful stereotype is the belief that Dalit women are naturally promiscuous and sexually active. Historically, Dalit women have been regarded as objects of sexual satisfaction without consent by upper-caste men, which led to stigma. Sexual violence against Dalit women is repeatedly used as a means of social control and caste dominance. This tends to reiterate the subordination of the Dalit community through upper-caste men violating Dalit women. This violence conveys the message that Dalits are to be kept in a subordinate position and made to accept their social status in society. The usual perception that Dalit women are sexually accessible replicates this power dynamic and enables perpetrators to act with impunity as society trivializes such an act as unworthy of anger and punishment.
The imposition of the breast tax (mulakkaram) in the Kingdom of Travancore in present-day Kerala is perhaps one of the most significant examples of caste-based discrimination and control over Dalit women's bodies. The imposed tax had targeted Dalit and lower-caste women, who needed to pay a certain charge in case they wanted to cover their breasts in public-a privilege formerly accorded to upper caste women. The breast tax epitomized the intersection of caste and gender oppression, whereby Dalit women's bodies were simply public property to be managed and regulated by the upper-caste-dominated state. It was an economic violence as well, which financially exploited Dalit women by insisting that those who wanted to cover themselves should pay a charge, thus entrenching their socioeconomic marginalization.
In India, preconceptions about Islam and its people are frequently used to stereotype Muslim women. It is widely believed that Muslim women are intrinsically oppressed by their communities, where they are forced to live under the rigorous supervision of their male relatives, wear restrictive clothing like the burqa, niqab, or hijab, and are bound by Sharia law. According to these views, Muslim women are powerless members of their own cultural and religious customs, incapable of acting independently or with autonomy. The notion that Muslim communities are monolithic and consistently patriarchal is reinforced by political discourse, media representations, and public discourse. Such framing of Muslim women, as being primarily oppressed by their own communities, privatizes their suffering, making it not something that requires collective outrage or intervention. It insinuates that questions relating to the rights of Muslim women are best dealt with within the community and not part of greater societal reform. The privatization of victimhood further leads to the absence of public solidarity and support, hence making it challenging to move for justice or rights for Muslim women at a larger level. The responses to sexual violence in Muslim women remain oriented around the dynamics within the Muslim community rather than with the crime itself. Equally, the media coverage and public discourse focus on the role of the Muslim men, religious practicing, or retrogressive community rather than emphasizing the victim's experience and desire for justice. This shifts the blame from perpetrators of violence and frames the issue as a problem of Muslim culture or religion. The response to sexual violence against Muslim women often gets distorted through Islamophobic undertones that conceptualize Muslim men as innately violent and oppressive. Such stereotypes can generalize in the Muslim community, entrenching fears and prejudices. The biases divert attention from the fact that sexual violence is a systemic issue transcending religious and cultural boundaries, and that Muslim women deserve support and protection, just like women from other backgrounds.
The Adivasi, or the Scheduled Tribes, have traditionally been living in remote forested areas with their own distinct cultural and societal identity. These communities were considered inferior throughout history by both mainstream society and the state. Colonial narratives and policies influenced how people perceived Adivasis. Very often, Adivasi women are portrayed as "primitive and exotic", and the culture they belong to as less "civilized" than the mainstream dominant society. The colonial portrayal of Adivasi communities as living in a natural state unaffected by civilisation or advancement is the basis of this stereotype. These kinds of ideas deprive Adivasi women of their agency and identity by treating them as nothing more than fascinating or studied objects. This idea may give rise to a paternalistic mindset in which any harm or abuse against Adivasi women is minimized or dismissed as the inevitable result of their "backward" way of life rather than as an infringement on their human rights.
Selective outrage not only hinders the battle against sexual abuse, but it also reinforces a culture of impunity. When society fails to respond uniformly, it conveys the message that some lives are more valued than others, and that justice is a privilege reserved for a select few. The silence surrounding the pain of Dalit, Adivasi, and Muslim women is not passive; it is the result of active, systematic marginalization.