Freedom for Midnight’s Daughters

Independence came to India at the stroke of midnight, that hour of darkness and, often, danger. The appointed time on August 15, 1947, for India’s “tryst with destiny” was chosen by astrologers, who deemed it auspicious for the country’s birth. Since then the midnight hour has become synonymous with freedom. Is that the case for women, though?

It is worth interpreting that question literally for just a moment, as others have done. “Just because India achieved freedom at midnight does not mean that women can venture out after dark,” Botsa Satyanarayana, a Congress Party politician, said in a statement following the Delhi gang rape last December. Referring to the young student who later died as a result of her injuries, he added, “The woman should have thought twice before boarding the suspicious private bus that night. Though the incident was condemnable, she should also have behaved keeping in mind the situation.”

Such statements are not rare. In the coastal state of Goa, known for palm-lined beaches and late-night parties, one lawmaker argued that rape occurring past the midnight hour should be treated, in his words, “on a different footing.” In 2008, Sheila Dixit, the chief minister of Delhi, pointed out that when the TV journalist Soumya Viswanathan was murdered in New Delhi, she had been “all by herself till 3 a.m. at night in a city where people believe… you know… you should not be so adventurous.”

India is not alone in facing a crisis of women’s rights. In every country on the globe there are police stations, newsrooms and dinner tables where rape survivors are blamed for the crimes committed against them. It is equally problematic to ignore how perceptions of freedom vary across class, regional and professional backgrounds. A girl in Mumbai, Delhi or Calcutta dancing the night away at a club, a young woman in one of the information technology centers whose late-night shift grants her financial independence, might say she feels liberated at all hours of the day.

Looking at freedom at midnight in such an expansive way is instructive, up to a certain point. But on Independence Day, Indians celebrate a very specific midnight, which promised a very specific kind of freedom. When, as Salman Rushdie wrote in “Midnight’s Children,” the “clock-hands joined palms in respectful greeting,” millions celebrated the end of colonialism and the beginning of swaraj, or self-rule, in the form of a modern nation-state. So, can we take for granted that all women have been liberated from oppressive, undemocratic rule?

The question might seem preposterous â€" the British, after all, have quit India. However, in many parts of the country, poor governance means that the state is too weak to effectively protect constitutional rights and enforce laws. What is particularly worrying is that, in some places, this has led to undemocratic non-state actors ruling over women against their will.

I am referring to the notorious khap panchayats, or “caste councils,” which operate in north Indian states like Uttar Pradesh, Haryana and Rajasthan. These age-old councils intervene in village disputes related to property, inheritance and marriage. Because they are free, effective and swift, many villagers turn to them instead of the police, who often demand bribes. The sizeable backlog of cases in the judicial system only increases their  appeal. These councils, run by male, unelected leaders, have been repeatedly criticized for their sexist rulings. In recent years, khap panchayats in various villages have banned women from owning mobile phones, wearing T-shirts and jeans and having so-called “love marriages” in which women chose their husbands independent of their families. The councils’ most controversial role, however, has been in legitimizing honor killings, which are often carried out as a response to love marriages.

In places where khap panchayats exist, the precepts of the modern Indian nation-state are undermined; the khaps have the final say, not the government. On December 23, 2012, the Indian government constituted a three member committee headed by Justice J.S. Verma, former Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of India, to recommend amendments to the Criminal Law so as to provide for quicker trial and enhanced punishment for criminals accused of committing sexual assault against women.

“They overrule, with impunity, the constitutionally mandated administration of equality in favour of women,” the Verma Committee wrote about in its influential report. This is why, in theory, they are not allowed to operate. In 2011, the Supreme Court ruled in unequivocal terms that khap panchayats are “kangaroo courts” that need to be “ruthlessly stamped out.” In spite of this, these councils continue to issue ordinances that severely restrict the freedom of women and ignore their fundamental rights. They prevail thanks to the fierce protection granted by politicians who rely on them for precious vote banks. Some of their guardians are powerful, like the former chief minister of Haryana, Om Prakash Chautala, who is reported to have said in 2004 that “whatever the caste panchayat decides is right.”

Later, in 2012, he said he agreed with one khap’s suggestion that the marriageable age for women should be lowered to prevent rape. Until the state reins in the khap panchayats, women living under their rule will be denied the full freedoms promised to them at that historic midnight hour.

Women in other parts of the country are also being denied full democratic freedoms, but for other reasons. Rather than suffering from weak governance, they are being crushed by an excessively strong state. In so-called “disputed areas,” like Kashmir and the northeast, the state does not afford citizens the same rights as in other parts of the country. Civic freedoms, such as the right to assemble, are denied and the military has the right to shoot at unauthorized gatherings of more than five people. Embodying this oppression is the Armed Forces Special Powers Act.  Along with other powers, the A.F.S.P.A. grants legal immunity to soldiers, thereby protecting them from prosecution in cases of murder and rape. It is for reasons like these that the United Nations has declared the A.F.S.P.A. to be a “symbol of excessive state power.”

Women in particular have been severely affected by military might in these areas, as was acknowledged in the Verma Committee report, which stated, “Impunity for systematic or isolated sexual violence in the process of Internal Security duties is being legitimized by the Armed Forces Special Powers Act, which is in force in large parts of our country.”

One of the most striking reflections of how women under A.F.S.P.A. feel was a protest that took place in the northeastern state of Manipur in 2004, following the death of Thangjam Manorama, a 32-year-old woman, who was taken into custody by the Assam Rifles â€" a paramilitary force in India â€" and later found dead, her body riddled with bullets and showing signs of sexual assault and torture. The security forces alleged that she was a member of the Manipur-based insurgent group, People’s Liberation Army.

Ordinary women took off their clothes to protest in front of the army that day, and the reasons they gave for doing so were chilling. Describing the protest to Human Rights Watch, one woman said “We mothers were weeping, ‘Now our daughters can be raped. They can be subjected to such cruelty. Every girl is at risk.’ We shed our clothes and stood before the army. We said, ‘We mothers have come. Drink our blood. Eat our flesh. Maybe this way you can spare our daughters.’ But nothing has been done to punish those soldiers. The women of Manipur were disrobed by the A.F.S.P.A. We are still naked.”

There will be those who think that Independence Day is not the moment to bring up these difficult issues. But if we look back to the ceremony of India’s first Independence Day, we see that Nehru acknowledged the pain that many across the country were feeling, even while the rest of the nation rejoiced. “Before the birth of freedom we have endured all the pains of labor and our hearts are heavy with the memory of this sorrow,” he said that day, adding that “some of those pains continue even now.”

Nothing that Nehru said in his momentous speech indicated that those pains would be remedied quickly. If anything, he said that the future would be “not one of ease or resting but of incessant striving” to fulfill the pledges made at Independence.

This year has been marked by great striving. Indians of all backgrounds have taken to the streets to march against the oppression of women. Citizens have written petitions, painted banners, organized protests, mobilized friends and tirelessly raised awareness about gender-related injustices that are yet to be addressed.

There is still much to do. “We have to labor and to work, and work hard, to give reality to our dreams,” Nehru told his newly awakened nation. Judging from this year, the midnight children â€" both men and women â€" have already rolled up their sleeves and are busy at work.

Amana Fontanella-Khan is the author of “Pink Sari Revolution: A Tale of Women and Power in India.”