Nirbhaya remains a work in progress...

Harish Khare

Nearly seven months after the horrible ‘Nirbhaya’ rape episode, I had landed in New York and was on my way from the JFK airport to mid-town Manhattan. Predictably, the cab driver struck up a conversation and once he got to know that I was from Delhi, he challengingly asked me why Delhi had emerged as the rape capital of the world. This was a stunning verbal slap across the face. When asked for the basis of this surmise, the driver simply reminded me of the ‘Nirbhaya’ case in Delhi. He added that he had watched on news channels all those protests. Suddenly, it dawned that India’s global image had been given a very black eye.

Yet those protests were worth the effort because they were a new experiment in the civil society raising its voice against injury and injustice to any citizen. The citizens of Delhi had stumbled upon a collective purpose. A new solidarity got produced out of those days of protests and candlelight vigils at India Gate. For once, the social media was put to good use, beckoning individual men and women to share and discover the power of collective action. 

The civil society was able to awaken the callous rulers, who had no idea of the enormity of the crime and violence and cruelty to which ‘Nirbhaya’ had been subjected. The very enormity of the offence made each citizen feel vulnerable and the next possible victim of depraved men, out there on unpoliced streets. Each and every citizen felt the need to be reassured that in this presumably civilised country, we had to remind administrators and policemen of their obligation to protect the life and liberty of one and all. 

Now nearly five years later, four men stand sentenced to face the gallows. Even those who otherwise doubt the efficacy of capital punishment somehow find themselves nodding in approval of the sentence, so clearly reaffirmed by the Supreme Court. A sense of catharsis is palpable. 

Our sprawling cities are becoming soulless jungles, unpleasant sites of social squalour and moral callousness. In our quest for urbanisation and bullet trains, we are giving short shrift to finer civic virtues and graces; roughness of muscle power and vulgarity of wealth have become the ‘new normal.’ No safe place for a woman.

Thanks to the revulsion caused by the ‘Nirbhaya’ case, laws have been changed and punishment enhanced. That can only be the beginning of a long journey. Ideally, no woman should feel vulnerable, scared or hunted every time she steps out of her home. 

An entrenched feudal mindset is at work. For centuries, combatants have felt righteously justified in violating their adversaries’ womenfolk. Barbaric rites of revenge and retribution include misbehaving with wives, daughters, mothers and sisters. For example, no one in the mainstream media wants to acknowledge that one of the reasons for the persistence of public support for the ‘Naxals’ is the widespread allegation that policemen prey upon tribal women. The very sad reality is that in conflict zones, rape becomes a statement of individual and collective power. 

It is this entrenched mindset that remains far from dismantled, years after the Nirbhaya Moment. Nonetheless, this is a battle that has to be joined and waged, not always at India Gate but in our daily life.

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ONCE again people the world over are having a good time chuckling about Prince Philip retiring from “public duties” after reaching the ripe age of 95. The man who for seven decades did provide the consort services to the Queen of England also provided mirthful amusement to at least two generations of millions and millions across the globe. He took his duties as the royal resident buffoon rather seriously. 

Jokes and jibes apart, it needs to be appreciated that though a monarchy is definitely an incongruity in these democratic times, Britain’s monarchy was, and, remains the only institution in England that gives the English society a sense of permanence.

Queen Elizabeth and all her royal paraphernalia did help the English people come to terms with the loss of an empire. While Britain gradually lost its clout, its royalty remained an object of curiosity and respect. The outside world, especially the former colonies, was always happy to welcome the British royalty; within Britain, the House of Windsor stood above the shabby quarrels of the politicians. All political systems realise the need to have a ceremonial head of state who can be made a symbol of deference and loyalty.

It can be argued that Prince Philip’s numerous gaffes ended up democratising the royalty. That the people could laugh at him — without inviting a policeman’s attention — made the incongruous royalty less incongruous. And when, someone like Princess Diana came along, with all her rebellion against the royal trappings, she became the darling of the masses in England and beyond.

Prince Philip’s great contribution to the post-imperial England was that he single-handedly devised and firmly occupied a Chair of Royal Stupidity. A society that can learn to laugh at its rulers, nominal and real, would find it difficult to play host to any kind of authoritarian figure. For five decades, Prince Philip has been a secret ally of the democratic sentiment. 

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FILMI  news can sometimes be rather revealing. Ms Deepika Padukone, I read the other day, has said that she was not amused that the foreign media often mistook her for Priyanka Chopra, that other filmi star from Mumbai stirring up things in Hollywood. Ms Padukone thought it reflected the foreign media’s ignorance and racist biases. 

Ignorance, yes; because the Americans can easily be certified to be the world’s most self-centered people. They happily subscribe to all the stereotypes about other nations and nationalities (and about themselves, too).

Before the culture of globalisation produced a new global norm of political correctness, one of the favourite lines the Americans loved to proclaim, loudly, without any embarrassment or apology, was: “Oh, all Chinese look alike.” 

Well that was dealt with during Deng Xiaoping’s visit to America in 1979. He was the first leader of the ‘Red’ China to visit the United States in January, 1979. He was accompanied by his third wife, Madame Zhuo Lin. China’s new helmsman was, understandably, busy meeting President Jimmy Carter and others officials; an equally elaborate programme of engagements was drawn up for his wife. Soon it was noticed that Madame Zhuo kept merrily mixing up names. Mr Johnson would get called Mr Smith, and Mr Jones would get addressed as Mr Johnson, and so on. 

The protocol people gathered courage to point out the error; nonchalantly, China’s first lady replied: “Oh, all Americans look alike.”

Touché. 

A friend of mine from Copenhagen sent me this: “A Punjabi was in IKEA the other day. While pushing his trolley around, he collided with a young Swede pushing his cart.

The Punjabi said to the young guy, “Sorry, but I'm looking for my wife and I guess I wasn’t careful where I was going.”

The young guy says, “That's OK… It's a coincidence. I’m looking for my wife, too. I can’t find her and I’m getting a little desperate.”

The Punjabi said, “Well, maybe we can help each other. What does your wife look like?”

The young guy says, “Well, she is 24 years old, tall, with blonde hair, big blue eyes, long legs, and she’s wearing tight white shorts and a low-cut see-through top. What does your wife look like?”

The Punjabi said, “Doesn’t matter — let’s look for yours.”

Most Punjabis are helpful…”

Help yourself to a cup of coffee, I may like to offer. 

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