Questions of Masculinities in Development

Nairobi National Museum

I must confess that I cannot take the questions of masculinities in development contexts without cynicism. Part of the cynicism arises from having to experience masculine hegemony in different garbs everywhere and almost all the time. It’s presence can be felt everywhere, in every aspect of life. Academic institutions and workplaces are a reminder of masculization and feminization of disciplines and policies and practices set by men. Even the development and interdisciplinary courses are affected by it. It is not often that one can find a male academic teaching or supervising a gender studies programme or research and segregated and token existence of gender in development and policy based courses is another reminder of gender being ‘women’s burden’ and development being a ‘man’s job’. A close review of the reading list for a course on Masculinities in any academic institution is yet another reminder that women theorists not only have to analyze subjugation and systemic disadvantageous position of people other than men but also have to take up the responsibility of clarifying why men are what they are and how they could be saved from being ‘men in crisis’ ‘whose traditional bases of power and identify in family units are being undermined by changes in the labour market, and by legislative and policy initiatives in women's interests’ (Chant 2000).

The practice of living with perpetual social, organizational and (sometimes) self impositions to be cautious in my approach to men, to be careful not to rock the boat, not to push ‘men in crisis’ (Chant, 2000) should have made me accept the question without problematizing it. It hasn’t. The questions, eg, why development is not paying attention to masculinities, me should not be left behind, etc, are a reminder of: (1) An assumption that so far, all development has indeed been carried out from a feminist perspective, (2) an accusation based on a presumption that decisionmaking in development policy and practice has been vested in women who regard men as obstacles to women’s well-being and consequently development policymakers and practitioners have conflated women and gender, (3) a belief that development theory, policy and practice cannot transcend the male/female or masculine/feminine binaries, and (4) a demand that development programmes should not only do gender analysis, they must also induce psychoanalytic thinking among men to help them overcome restrictive stereotypes and understand implications of hegemonic masculinity on themselves. It seems that this demand carries a presumption that ‘all men desperately wish to emulate particular styles of being a man and it is their frustration with their inability to achieve this that drives them into ‘behaving badly’’ (Cornwall, 1998, a).

Notwithstanding my cynicism, I feel that giving it attention would be useful in so far as it shares the promise to move beyond the token gains of ‘Women in Development’* (WID) to: (1) ‘Gender and Development’ (GAD) approach to understand women in relation to men and the way in which relations between these categories are socio-historically constructed (Kabeer 1994, Moser 1993, Razavi and Miller 1995), (2) the need to shift increasingly towards the heterogeneity of women and men as categories since caste, class, culture, religion, race, age and ethnicity are some of the categories which intersect gender to give women and men multiple identities and result in multiple realities, and (3) look critically at the issue of gender identities in order to address the silence of gender policy and practice on the abuse and marginalization faced by those who challenge sex/gender stereotypes.

I will now give a brief overview of the arguments which support mainstreaming of men into development and explore specific sectors and contexts within development policy and practice where attention to masculinities has impacted or could impact.

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Within GAD paradigm, men are being implicated rather than explicitly addressed in development work focusing on gender inequalities. Men are hardly visible in GAD policy. And where they are it is often as instruments to reach the development programmes to women. Since 1980s, GAD theory began recognizing the need to examine men’s responsibility for women’s disadvantage and men’s role in redressing gender inequalities. Yet it is relatively recently that the debates on economic and social policy have begun to analyze ‘men’s gender identity’, and their roles in the private sphere (Folbre 1994 in Sweetman 2000 a). It is argued that that by focusing on men and masculinity, development programmes can forge men’s relationship with the process to change gender inequalities. This view is supported by some from an equality and social justice point of view, that is, men as well as women may be disadvantaged by social and economic structures and that they both have the right to live free from poverty and repression. This view contends that empowerment processes should enable women and men to be liberated from stereotyped gender roles (Cleaver, 2000). Another aspect of this view suggests that masculinity renders gender visible to men. It can help men see how gender inequalities are produced and distributed between and within the two gender categories. In other words, examination of the ‘politics of masculinity’ (Connel, 1995 a) offers an opportunity to rethink men’s strategic interests in challenging the values and practices that create gender hierarchy.

Development research and GAD practice like GAD policy, has lagged behind GAD theory. Partly because of development organizations’ reluctance to ‘effectively’ change gender relations and their tendency to fall in the ‘public-private’ dichotomy, to ‘side-step uncomfortable issues like ‘interfering’ in relations between men and women within the household’ (Varley 1996 in Sweetman 2000 b).

The recent discourses on masculinities have highlighted integration of the Western constructs and assumptions of masculinity in the development work in the Southern countries and paved the way for ‘localized solutions’ rooted in ‘indigenous contexts’. The Western models of male stereotypes, like, male ‘breadwinner’ or ‘head of the family’ valourized a particular kind of masculinity. In many Indian contexts, such valourization further conjured and supported the notions of purush-paurasharth/mard-mardanagi** or man-manliness. This valourized form of Indo-Western masculinity could be used to highlight the marginality and powerlessness of some men – in relation to some women as well as to other men. Dalit*** rights work and specific campaigns within dalit rights framework, like, mass movements to protest forced sterilization of dalits and Muslims, both men and women, during the tenure of India’s only women Prime Minister, Indira Gandhi (Rahman, 2000), are examples of the work, which have been taken up by development organizations, to address marginality and powerlessness of some men. However, this kind of work by development organizations has been more of an unconscious fallout of dalit rights work rather than an outcome of specific attention to dalit men’s marginality against men from upper castes. Also, neither dalit movement nor any other mass advocacy and mobilization work in India challenged the male stereotypes. It also did not address the realities of ‘male privilege’ of the marginalized and powerless men in relation to women (read Omvedt, 1995 to see how this issue surfaces in dalit contexts).

Similarly, the discourses on masculinity also reveal the fact that wherever men have been involved in gender based development work as beneficiaries their involvement has also been limited to stereotypical casts in certain sectors, eg, as biological procreators, intercourse initiators, providers and protectors in sexual and reproductive health, HIV/AIDS, education, etc. To quote Cornwall, ‘Yet quite how that involvement is cast, and quite how 'men' are represented in these initiatives, remains in itself something that we need to examine more closely … ’ (Cornwall, 1998 b).

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Attention to hegemonic masculinity has made evident that men are not necessarily absent as beneficiaries even if a development programme is targeted only at women. Discourses and research around feminization of debt arising out of microfinance interventions suggest that often men have been beneficiaries (FitzGibbon 2002). Confronted with situations where leadership and/or benefits of ‘women only’ interventions have been usurped by men, some development practiceners, not yet the policymakers, have started improvizing programmes to address such challenges. However, significant impact of this understanding is dependent upon organizational willingness and capacities to take their programmes out of vacuum and to address the issues arising from the contexts in which the programmes are located. Directly addressing hegemonic masculinity would create opportunities to address issues of gender equality. For example, an understanding of unequal interdependency between women and men could lead to development of strategies to deal with the issue of double burden of women which result from participatory development (Dawson, 1999) or women’s income generation/livelihoods programmes. From this angle, it is essential to facilitate changes in men’s behaviour to effect positive changes in women’s position. And why just men, even in the practice of hegemonic masculinity by some women because ‘as a set of values, masculinity is available to women as well as men’ (White, 2000 a).

One of the sectors where impact of attention to masculinities is slowly becoming obvious is population and family planning. Development communication is now offering the ‘joys of fatherhood’ to men! Not yet a trend, it shows implicit understanding that ‘the ways fatherhood is experienced by individual men varies according to precedents and traditions set by wider society, current social and economic conditions, and by the dynamics of particular families and the individuals within them’ (White, 2000 b). This development comes from an attempt to recast hegemonic masculinity from an unfeeling and absent biological and economic fatherhood to ‘social fatherhood’ (Engle, 2000) – an attempt induced by the feminist demand to re-adjust the sexual division of labour and by changes in family systems due to urbanization, economic constraints, etc.

The recasting processes have received support from the nonformal education sector. This sector pays attention to masculinity and challenges gender roles within male/female binary. For example, Connell talks about the development of gender specific and gender relevant programmes on masculinity by educators in the industrialized world. The former is developed keeping either boys or girls in mind. The latter is meant for both boys and girls and attempt to thematize the gender dimension in social life and education. Connell regards gender relevant masculinity programmes more useful in redefinition and recasting of masculinities (Connell, 2000 b). In India, some organizations engage in gender analysis, use a pedagogy, which is a combination of experiential and locally produced teaching-learning texts, and pay attention to the curriculum to make education gender responsive. However, these initiatives are still very small and have not really impacted the education sector in a significant way.

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The discourses on masculinity, wherever it has been done in conjunction with caste, class, culture, religion, race, age and ethnicity, has been successful in bringing forth the ‘politics of representation’ – in law, history, society, governance, etc. The current trend of training women to contest Panchayati Raj**** elections in India thrives on the interpretation of and opposition to hegemonic masculinity. The trainings being given by international, national and local nonprofit development organizations (NGOs) rationalize the intervention by contrasting irresponsible male politicians who are perpetrators of sexual and gender violence, engage in corruption, etc with women as honest, cooperative, community-minded, and caring persons. Such interventions use negative stereotypes of men and masculinity in relational subject positions who are associated with oppressive power.

These discourses, to some extent, have forced the development organizations to look at the those who are rendered residual by the conventional interpretation of ‘man’ – hegemonic and heterosexual. Often their powerlessness and marginalization is shaped by the lack of representation. The ‘politics of representation’ allows the powerful to represent what they consider as constituents of culture, history, etc and exclude those who are on the fringes, like hijras*****, gays, lesbians, bisexual and transgender people (Narrain, 2003). The responses of the development organizations to issues of identity and representation of sexual minorities have been cautious but also leading to an awareness of the need for diversity. Solidarity with the demand for the right to sexual identity and incorporation of the principle of diversity in employment policies are examples of this response. The impact is relatively more visible in HIV/AIDS work. There has been growing pressure on policymakers and practiceners working on HIV/AIDS to consider gender issues such as vulnerabilities of women and men and power equations in the relationships in the intervention and impact assessment. To some extent, it has made the practiceners aware of specific vulnerabilities such as: (1) Norms of masculinity prevent men, specially young men from seeking information on safe sex (UNAIDS 1999 a), (2) Linkages between social position, number of sexual partners and sexual ego render messages demanding restraint and fidelity in sexual relationship banal, and (3) notions of heterosexual masculinity create a fear of stigma among those practicing men to men sex or bisexuality and forces them to keep their sexual identity secret and hence increases vulnerabilities (UNAIDS 1999 b). Overall, the awareness has made HIV/AIDS interventions accessible to those who do not conform to conventional sexual identities yet it cannot be said that the awareness has fundamentally changed the HIV/AIDS programme strategies. The messages remain largely moralistic, gender insensitive and direct intervention remains condom-centric.

The emergence of masculinities as a field of study owes a lot to the feminist movement and its struggle to end violence against women (VAW). The understanding of the dual involvement of men in VAW – as perpetrators as well as agents who could stop VAW is one of early outcomes of lending attention to hegemonic masculinity. In the USA, the understanding resulted in alliances between feminists and profeminist consciousness raising groups of men (Clatterbaugh, 1997). Such alliances, however, did not become a consistent practice. Development organizations working within the paradigm of GAD accept explanations of VAW which link social construction of masculinities, gender inequality and violence more readily than constructions of masculinity based on biological determinism or psychological essentialism. Such explanations imply that since violent masculinity – as a means to control women and to maintain gender inequalities in various spheres is a learned behaviour and, therefore, it is possible to unlearn it. One of the major reasons for insignificant involvement of men in anti-VAW work, specially in the ‘private sphere’, is due to the huge scale of the violence and the limited resources available for its eradication. But the efforts to give maximum benefits to survivors alone may unwittingly promote the idea that violence is a ‘women’s issue’ (Wood and Jewkes, 2000). What could be derived from this opinion and feminist experience with male support groups and profeminist men is that it is not sufficient to involve profeminist men as supporters and to deliver services to survivors. There is a need to engage with male perpetrators (as well as potential perpetrators) and to recognize the contexts of the violence in order to change attitudes and practices of violent masculinities.

The arguments for strategic partnerships with men and the national and international ‘development politics’ in World Women's Conference in Beijing in 1995 resulted in considerable demands for mainstreaming gender concerns. This period is also marked by a shift in the approach of the feminists and development organizations towards the state agencies. It became more collaborative and necessitated a ‘sense-making’ and nonconfrontational definition of gender mainstreaming to enable important state agencies like law, judiciary, police, planning departments and other institutions to accept key feminist expectations, like, ‘substantive equality in place of formal equality’ (Baruah, 1999). The shift also resulted in ‘gendering of the demand for gender mainstreaming’, that is, examination of men’s needs. It led to a demand on the state and nonstate (including development and humanitarian) agencies to formulate and implement policies targeted at the wellbeing of the families of those working with them and at the transformation of the division of labour at home to make it more equal. The mainstreaming agenda included reconstitution of certain systems, demands for new provisions and transformation of the development programmes in view of the work being done by women in the ‘private sphere’ and recognition of men’s right and responsibility to contribute equally to the private sphere. The mainstreaming is gradually becoming visible in terms of provisions like paternity leave alongside maternity leave, childcare at the workplace, etc.

To sum up, even within GAD paradigm, it is not always possible for the development field to give substantial attention to the issues of sexual/gender identities because of development policy’s preoccupation with the practical outcomes, measurable impacts and rigidly defined indicators. The demand to deliver practical programmes often means measuring applicability of theoretical issues from the lenses of prevailing notions of gender. There is also a tendency to shy away from programmatic propositions likely to challenge gender norms out of fear of community reprisal. It is also important to remember that gender related programmatic work within development field is beings done mainly by women. Representation of gender issues, specially masculinities by them are not always taken without resentment and their intentions in asking to stop thinking in binary opposites are often seen as a convoluted plan of feminists to endanger the culture. It is challenging for gender activists working in the development organizations as they have a task of balancing the constraints, which their organizations face and gender equality aspirations and goals they identify with. Any changes, such as cuts in the resources, often entail a loss of commitment of gender rights. For example, resource crunch or changes in the political context may endanger a gender sensitive emergency response or may result in implementation of a relief programme which sees gender related work as an optional add-on (Brayer, 1999). More involvement of men in delivering gender based programmes and more women in emergency relief, livelihoods, governance programmes and inclusion of marginalized gender identities in policymaking may help address some of the problems. Attention to masculinities without abandoning fundamental feminist concerns with women’s rights is, in a way, helping in understanding and explaining inequality to larger audiences and making an argument for changing the focus of the masculinity – from oppressive to humane.

Endnotes:

* WID resulted in institution of gender bureaus/desks/sections in the UN, other international and national bodies. However, its output amounted to symbolic politics and little concrete achievements (Kabeer, 1994).

** The ideal purush/mard is described as the creator, provider, and protector. Adjectives, such as, ‘purushottam’/’sachcha-mard’ or the man who is unparalleled, ‘paurush’/’mardanagi’ or courage, and ‘purusharth’/’mardaneeyat’ or the trait of being effort oriented are used to express attributes of purush.

*** Broken or oppressed people who have been denied human dignity and rights.

**** A three-tier local governance system in which 33% seats are reserved for women.

***** Eunuch – usually a castrated person, known also as India’s ‘third gender’

References:

• Baruah, Nandita, undated, www.skk.uit.no/WW99/papers/Baruah_Nandita.pdf

• Brayer, David (1999), ‘Preface’ in Fenella Porter, Ines Smyth and Caroline Sweetman, eds, Gender Works: Oxfam Experience in Policy and Practice, Oxford: Oxfam

• Chant, Sylvia (2000), 'Men in Crisis? Reflections on masculinities, work and family in north-west Costa Rica', European Journal of Development Research, 12, 2, December 2000

• Clatterbaugh, Kenneth (1997), ‘Feminist Allies: Profeminist Men’, Contemporary Perspectives on Masculinities’, Oxford: Westview Press

• Cleaver, Frances (2000), IDS Bulletin, 31.2, April 2000

• Connel, RW (1995) a, ‘Masculinities’, Cambridge: Polity Press

• ---- (2000) b, ‘Teaching the Boys’, ‘Masculinities’, Cambridge: Polity Press

• Cornwall, Andrea (1998) a, Paper titled ‘Missing Men? Reflections on Men, Masculinities and Gender in GAD’ presented at a Seminar – Identifying the Gaps, Setting the Agenda, 8th-9th September 1998, University of Bradford. Available at http://www.bradford.ac.uk/acad/dppc/gender/mandmweb/acornwalltext.html

• ---- (1998) b, Paper titled ‘Missing Men? Reflections on Men, Masculinities and Gender in GAD’ presented at a Seminar – Identifying the Gaps, Setting the Agenda, 8th-9th September 1998, University of Bradford

• Dawson, Elsa L (1999), ’Gender: Assessing the Impact’ in Fenella Porter, Ines Smyth, Caroline Sweetman, eds, ‘Gender Works: Oxfam Experience in Policy and Practice’, Oxford: Oxfam

• Engle, Patrice L (2000), ‘The Role of Men in Families: Achieving Gender Equity and Supporting Children’, Caroline Sweetman, ed, Men and Masculinities, Oxford: Oxfam GB

• FitzGibbon, Mike (2002), Paper titled ‘Short Changed - Gendered Consequences of Implementing Financial Services in Moshi Rural District, Northern Tanzania’, presented at a Seminar – "Women's Empowerment or the Feminization of Debt? Towards a new agenda in African micro-finance" March 21st - 22nd 2002, The International Famine Centre, University College Cork. Also available at: http://www.ucc.ie/famine/Presentations/conferencepresentations.htm

• Kabeer, Naila (1994), ‘Reversed Realities: Gender Hierarchies in Development Thought’, London & New York: Verso

• Moser, Caroline (1993), ‘Gender Planning and Development: Theory, Practice and Training’, London & New York: Routledge

• Narrain, Arvind (2003), http://www.india-seminar.com/2003/524/524%20arvind%20narrain.htm

• Omvedt, Gail (1995), ‘Dalit Visions, Tracts For The Times’, 8, Orient Longman

• Rahman, Sayed Ubaidur (2000), Saddest Day of Indian Democracy, Milli Gazette, Vol 1-No 3, 15 July 2000

• Razavi, Shahrashoub and Miller, Carol (1995), ‘From WID to GAD: Conceptual Shifts in the Women and Development Discourses’, Geneva: UN Research Institute on Social Development, Occasional Paper 1, 1995

• Sweetman, Caroline (2000) a, ed, Editorial in Men and Masculinities, Oxford: Oxfam GB

• ---- (2000) b, ed, Editorial in Men and Masculinities, Oxford: Oxfam GB

• UNAIDS (1999) a, Gender and HIV/AIDS: Taking Stock of Research and Programs. Geneva

• UNAIDS (1999) b, Gender and HIV/AIDS: Taking Stock of Research and Programs. Geneva

• White, Sarah C (2000) a, ‘Men, Masculinity, and the Politics of Development’ in Caroline Sweetman, ed, Men and Masculinities, Oxford: Oxfam GB

• ---- (2000) b, ‘Men, Masculinity, and the Politics of Development’ in Caroline Sweetman, ed, Men and Masculinities, Oxford: Oxfam GB

• Wood, Katherine and Jewkes, Rachel (2000), Violence, Rape and Sexual Coercion: Everyday Love in a South African Township, in Caroline Sweetman, ed, Men and Masculinities, Oxford: Oxfam GB

Sphere: Related Content

From ‘Let your Father Come …' and ‘Let Your Son Come …’ to ‘Let My Brother Come … ’ and ‘Let My Son Come …’

Many have heard mothers say this to their erring children, ‘let your father come … ‘ and many of us have heard of family violence where daughters-in-law tell their ailing-and-not-liked and sometimes troublesome mothers-in-law, ‘let you son come …’. Is it that these women are not able to speak in a straight language or they lack the confidence to say what they are any way doing, parenting and being a party to discrimination against or abuse of the elderly? Why do they need to speak through their spouse? We have also heard of sisters-in-law threaten their brother’s spouse with a statement beginning ‘let my brother come …‘ and mothers-in-law tell their daughters-in-law, ‘let my son come … ’. Why these women cannot sort out their issues on their own instead of waiting for the brother or the son to come and teach a lesson to his spouse? Does it have anything to do with economic value attached to the person or to their ability to own their actions? Why all of them have such a high level of dependence on the male family members? Why do they compete with one another to establish a greater claim to the male family members?

Let me jump off to one of the possible reasons. An understanding of multiple forms of violence against women and girls – in intimate relationships and from strangers in their daily lives – show how they have been institutionalized and affects every aspect of a woman life from infancy to death. These aspects include citizenship, reproduction, health, sexuality, employment, entrepreneurship, culture, poverty, social care, property, crime, status in family … the list is unending. All these, in my opinion, contribute to the situation that I described above, which makes women’s existence dependent on the wishes of the male family members and makes women compete with one-another in order to exist.

Another reason for such a situation is economic. Yesterday, I was in a seminar on the issue of women and land with women many of whom know the relationship among women land and violence first hand. Experiences of these women established (not suggest) that violence against women and girls and poverty among women is an ‘engaged relationship’. The former being a tool to keep women in state of poverty and poverty is one of the key reasons for women’s servility. While high probability of violence in the domestic and public sphere, in general, affects women’s ability to be present in the public sphere, use opportunities and develop their human capital, ritualized and institutionalized forms of violence create a sort of ‘genetic-cum-collective’ lack of confidence among women that keeps them silent about the beatings, rape and emotional abuse, makes them internalize male supremacy, compete with one-another for a greater dependency stake, and prevents them from questioning the status quo in which men’s labour is recognized but women and girls’ labour is not. The overall impact of violence keeps women poor in all senses and economic poverty increases the risk of exposure to violence enormously.

Murder of women by their spouses alone or in complicity with the family, in particular, murder of widows by the marital family members more than often have roots in land and property. Sometime, the reasons for murder are such that a direct relationship between poverty or economic deprivation and violence cannot be established as a prima facie fact. It is true that poverty or economic deprivations are not the only reasons for women’s vulnerability to violence but poverty or economic deprivation are key factors. These are important factors that must be examined when trying to understand and address scale of violence against women.

Let me discuss here some of the  ritualized and institutionalized forms of violence that are used to keep women economically impoverished and dependent on men of the household or community:

Halitza[1]: In Jewish tradition, according to the Torah, if a man dies without leaving children, his brother must marry his widow in a ceremony called yibbum or levirate marriage. A widow in Sephardic Jewish communities cannot remarry till her husband’s brother relinquishes all claims to own her. In Halitza ceremony, that is a public event, the woman kneels before her brother-in-law and removes a special handmade shoe from his foot. She is then required to spit on the ground next to him and recite several verses from Torah. The ceremony is humiliating for both and mocks the brother for not taking on the sister-in-law. Though yibbum is on decline and most widows go through the Halitza ceremony now, it is practically an institutionalized practice to keep the family wealth within the family.

Widow/Bride Inheritance[2]: This is a form of yibbum among the Luo of western Kenya and many other tribes like Luhya (Kisa sub-tribe). The widespread practice of widow inheritance establishes the male ownership of women’s reproduction, her labour and property and wealth that may be created through the woman’s unpaid labour. Through widow inheritance the dead and alive husbands and their family continue to demand reproductive and productive capabilities of women against the bridewealth paid at the time of marriage with the deceased brother. Luo widows are known as ‘wives of the grave’. Because they do not cease to be the wife of the deceased rather through inheritance widows remain obligated to their husbands and their family and in exchange they are promised social and economic support for themselves and their children. Refusal by the widows often includes disinheritance and being thrown out of matrimonial home. This practice in one or the other names continues to exist in Nigeria, Uganda, India and many other countries.

Lattha Odhna or Chaadar Daalna[3]: Many Hindi, Urdu and Punjabi speaking audience of Hindi cinema would be able to recall a film titiled, 'Ek Chadar Maili Si' which came to the cinema halls in 1986. Directed by Sukhwant Dada, the film  is an adaptation of Rajinder Singh Bedi's Sahitya Akademi Award winner Urdu novella, 'Ik Chadar Adhorani'. The story is about a woman , Rano, who is forced to marry her brother-in-law, 10 years younger to her, whom she regarded as a son, through the ceremony of chadar daalna. such levirate marriage or niyoga between a widow and an unmarried younger brother in law continues to be alive in certain parts of India (Punjab and Haryana). Re-marriage of widows was never a norm in India and the possibility of going back to the parents' home has not been an option for the Indian women. They are taught to leave their marital home only on their death-bed. The practice ensures that any land or property owned by the deceased husband stays in the family.

Adoption of a male child from the husband’s family[4]: More in the past than now in India and many other parts of South Asia and Asia , if the widow did not have any male child from her deceased husband, she is made to adopt a nephew of her husband.

Widow Cleansing[5]: This practice also dates back centuries and is, till date, widely practiced in Zambia, Kenya, Malawi, Uganda, Tanzania, Ghana, Senegal, Angola, Ivory Coast, Congo and Nigeria. A widow is expected to have a sex with a male relative of the deceased husband in order to maintain access to family property and land. In practice, this custom any man from widow’s marital village or the deceased husband’s family, usually a brother or close male relative of the deceased husband, to force her to have sex with him. This is also linked to a belief that that if the widow does allow ‘cleansing’ her husband’s spirit will not be free. This practice established the woman as being haunted by spirits, as unholy and mentally ill and in some communities this is further extended to say that a widow who has not been cleansed can cause the whole community to be haunted. Now there are professional 'cleanser men' to rape widows because in many places, a widow must go through cleansing ritual before she can be inherited.

The above practices are not directly linked to the state of affairs described in the first paragraph in all contexts but they exemplify the modus operandi of patriarchy that instils a deep sense of dependence among women. A deeper examination of some of the apparently non-economic motives shows the inter-breeding of economic and non-economic issues. For example, such a large number of women are being killed, tortured and mutilated for bringing shame and dishonour to the family. But consider why women and girls are burdened with the safekeeping of family honour. Women's vulnerability to violence derives not only from the poverty but also from the potential they hold to be empowered individuals. One of the ways that potential can be crushed is by employing tools that socially disempower and disfranchise them. Making women and girls’ symbols of family honour puts on them the burden of keeping the honour, as it has been defined by patriarchy, intact. The definition of family honour invariably has its roots in historic political and economic exclusion, sexism and other discriminatory practices that keep women outside of social, political and economic empowerment opportunities. The definition of family honour leads to socio-cultural conditioning of women and girls that prepares them for marriage as accepted by the patriarchal system of a particular place, child-rearing, house-keeping and other unpaid care and economic roles. This conditioning creates a façade that women have an important role in the family in maintaining the family honour themselves as well as by scrutinising other women’s conduct, and it keeps the sense of empowerment far from women.

References:

1. http://www.myjewishlearning.com/life/Life_Events/Divorce/Liturgy_Ritual_and_Custom/Halitzah.shtml  

2. http://www.oecd.org/dataoecd/32/12/44847635.pdf  

3. http://www.servinghistory.com/topics/levirate_marriage::sub::Areas_Practiced  

4. http://www.jstor.org/pss/3632696. Paid log-in required.

5. http://www.fhi.org/en/hivaids/pub/archive/articles/aidscaptions/volume2no3/cap2313.htm

The article is also available at: http://bellbajao.org/2010/09/30/from-%E2%80%98let-your-father-come-%E2%80%A6-and-%E2%80%98let-your-son-come-%E2%80%A6%E2%80%99-to-%E2%80%98let-my-brother-come-%E2%80%A6-%E2%80%99-and-%E2%80%98let-my-son-come-%E2%80%A6%E2%80%99/ 

Sphere: Related Content

Women Crossing Borders

Background:

Migrants and migration long back ceased to be a venture of the select few looking for better avenues. One can safely say that since medieval period it has become a compulsion for farm workers, domestic workers and small landholders workers who are simply looking for a source of income to survive. It is estimated that 1 out of every 6 persons, that is, more than 1 billion persons, are migrating within countries and internationally, in search of employment. Of these 1 billion, 72% are women[1]. This is even more so when it comes to women migrant workers, whose numbers have been increasing, now constituting 50 percent or more of the migrant workforce in Asia and Latin America[2]. According to a study that focuses on women’s migration labour from and between six countries in the Southern African Development Community (SADC) region[3], the numbers of women who undertake migrant labour in Southern Africa have been increasing significantly over the past decade. Most people when they think of migrant labour, usually imagine a male face. But over the years, due to several socio-economic and political changes the face of the African migrant labour is changing into a twin woman-man face. Women now make up almost 50% of migrants in the SADC region.

Globalization of labour:

Globalization has contributed to an increasing flow of migrant workers from countries with limited economic opportunities to fill gaps in nations with a dwindling labour supply, for eg, from Somalia to Canada, or in nations which may offer better remuneration for the same work, for eg, from Afghanistan to Iran. Globalisation has also opened up markets for skilled workers and the decrease in traditional labour employment areas such as mining and agriculture. This has provided new entry points for the migrant labour into economies, for example in the service sector. Women are increasingly participating in the trans-national informal sector (for eg, as construction workers in countries other than theirs), and cross-border trade (for eg, between Tanzania and Kenya). This said, since globalization of labour is also characterized by increasing demand for skilled workers and is, therefore, leading to job losses and further impoverishment of unskilled workers. Globalization, in this sense, has created a complex tension between the demand for skilled labour and constraints imposed on unskilled workforce.

Globalization pushes the States to open up the borders for economic transactions. This is leading to increasing number of free trade agreements between countries, emergence and growth of multinational corporations and common markets such as the one mooted and promoted by the East African Community (EAC) for the free flow of products. While the borders are opened for the free flow of products, the borders remain closed for the labourers. Globalization, in this sense, has created another kind of tension between the rich and the poor countries. The developed countries, more than ever before, are banging their doors shut on those seeking refuge or work. Since global concept of production is based on comparative advantage, production sectors within developing economies are losing the diversity of production and labour employed in subsistence production, which benefitted from the diversity of production, is forced to cross borders hiding in trucks and boats or clinging to lifeboats adrift in the oceans.

Within Africa both rural to urban and cross-border migration has been significant due to domestic economic reasons as well as due to colonization. Colonization crated new boundaries, divided communities and separated families and clans. These separations had the effect of increasing cross-border movement. Since the end of colonization, intra-regional migration in SADC includes temporary migration, including workers and seasonal migrants, permanent migration, forced migration and refugee or asylum-seekers. Refugees/Asylum-seekers usually come from politically unstable countries such as Angola, Mozambique and more recently from the Democratic Republic of Congo, Rwanda and Burundi, as well as countries that do not belong to SADC. In the East an Horn of Africa, the movement is from Somalia, Southern Ethiopia, Northern Uganda and Southern Sudan. Kenya is a major recipient country of the refugees/asylum-seekers in this region.

Recent trends in migration are increasingly marked by movements linked to cross border-trading and related businesses and street vending, and less by formal employment because, as mentioned earlier, formal employment opportunities are becoming more and more demanding on skills.

Women as migrant labour:

The migrant labour endeavour is a double-edged sword for women. On the one hand, becoming a migrant labourer can mean the acquisition of new skills and uplifting one’s family and community financially, but on the other, women migrant workers expose themselves to several risks during this process.

While globalization may foster the acceleration of trade and investment, it does not create an environment that protects migrant workers’ economic, social and physical security. By creating new economic opportunities, migration can promote economic independence and status for women workers, who provide safety nets that sustain communities at home. But here’s the flip-side of the story: Many of the smugglers of human-labour are part of a growing ring of sex-traffickers. Huge numbers of poverty-stricken girls and women accept the promise of a good job or forced into so-called marriages with financially well to do husband but find they have been tricked into sex work as has been revealed from several cases in the South Asia. Cases noted from Nepal and Philippines suggest that some girls are even sold to smugglers by poverty-stricken families who see them as their only hope for an escape from poverty. Most women trafficked for sex work come from Asia, but increasingly Eastern European women are also getting into ‘international sex trade’ due to the hardship created after the erosion of the social safety nets in their countries.

The chain of exploiters for migrant workers, especially those seeking unskilled jobs include the brokers who facilitate passport, etc, recruiters who find employers and help obtain visa, employers who secure work-permit, and migration officials. Migrant workers are often illiterate or semi-literate and often have limited knowledge about and access to information regarding their rights. Women migrant workers are vulnerable as women, and like the rest, as foreigners and as unskilled labourers, and are exposed to possible abuse and exploitation such as physical and social isolation, and sexual and physical violence. Countries, where the migrant workers migrate to, also resent them when they have to pay for medical and legal services required by the migrant workers.

Marginalization, racial discrimination and suspicion are all too well known to the migrant women workers. Some countries do racial profiling on grounds of suspicion of a threat to security or sex work. Many women, unable to understand the bureaucracy around migration, find themselves declared ‘illegal’ and in detention centres for months or even years at a time, imprisoned for reasons not known to them. Women and girls going for either domestic work or sex-work, are usually left high and dry by the brokers, recruiters or employers who take their passport and a large chunk of their income. It is not unknown to find cases of women migrant workers being kept imprisoned, unable to escape. When the police of the receiving country reaches them, women migrant workers are usually hesitant to speak out about abuses they suffer because of the fear of deportation or greater sense of economic insecurity.

Combinations of poverty, gender discrimination, abuse, armed conflict, HIV & AIDS and climate change push women to seek employment in other countries. Though there is no data to establish, migrant women have been noticed to be more likely to be divorced, separated or have been abandoned. Similarly, migrant women are also more likely to be widowed than men. The study of migration of women from SADC countries suggests that increasingly, women migrant workers are primary economic providers and heads of households. They often travel alone and need to return to migrant occupations repeatedly.

Key sectors in which women migrant workers are involved:

As far as unskilled of semiskilled women are concerned, women and girls from all over the world are recruited to be domestic workers. In Africa and Asia girls from rural areas are often expected to move to urban areas and become domestic workers in order to help support their families financially. In North America and Europe, women from South America and Asia and in the Middle-east, women and girls from Ethiopia, South-east Asia and South Asia work in the homes of the rich sending money back home to their families abroad. Common experiences of domestic workers include low wages, long working hours, no time off, loneliness, verbal and sometimes physical abuse, being forced to wear uniforms and act in roles of servitude, heavy work demands, homesickness, the denial of a family life of one's own, racism, and vulnerability to sexual abuse and HIV/AIDS[4].

Many women are involved in cross border informal businesses, crossing borders for small periods of time or even daily. Their daily life, therefore, is marked by daily saga of exploitation and abuse.

Migrant women in SADC region, usually find employment as domestic workers or entertainers, or other fields that are not regulated by labour laws. The agricultural sector absorbs a large amount of migrant workers, but its seasonal nature does not make for a stable year-round income. In the East and Horn of Africa, migrant women struggle for daily wage work, small trade of goods, including smuggled goods and as domestic workers. Thus a combination of elements, such as local conflicts and global restructuring of work, result in an array of migration patterns in Southern and East and Horn of Africa.

Women migrant workers and economic development:

Studies indicate that migrant women workers contribute to the development of both sending and receiving countries — Ethiopians in diaspora sent a total of US$591 million to Ethiopia in 2006, which is nearly 4.4% of Ethiopia's GDP and Eritrea received US$411 million in remittance money, which amounts to 38% of Eritrea's GDP[5]. In Somalia, remittances are regarded as the ‘lifeline to survival’. In 2008, remittances were estimated by the World Bank at US$305 billion. These monetary investments — used for food, housing, education and medical services — along with newly acquired skills of returnees, can potentially contribute significantly to poverty reduction and the Millennium Development Goals[2].

Some women acquire new skills through their migrant occupations, which they use to contribute to both the host and their own countries’ economies. The sending and receiving countries benefit from the remittances women send and the productive investments they are able to make with their earned income. In households, which receive remittances, the bulk is utilized to cover basic needs and services, with differences depending on the country. Most remittances are spent on education in Zimbabwe (57%) and Mozambique (57%), while a significant portion is also spent on medicine in Zimbabwe (40%), Swaziland (39%) and Mozambique (31 %). Recipient households reported having contracted loans to purchase food, etc also use the remittance to pay-off debts. These examples suggest that the households of migrant women workers are highly dependent on external sources of income. In general, remittances seem to be protecting human development because they allow families to pay for education, health, electricity, water and other services, when they are not provided by the State. It can be said then that poverty reduction and community development could be aided by these remittances. Examples from Kerala in India shows that these benefits include improved local physical infrastructure, growth of local commodity markets, development of new services, changes to cultural practices that harm girl children and generation of local employment opportunities.

References:

1. Enaskhi Dua. "Beyond Diversity: Exploring Ways in which the Discourse of Race has Shaped the Institution of the Nuclear Family" in Enashki Dua and Angela Robertson. Eds. Scratching the Surface: Canadian Anti-Feminist Thought. Toronto: Women's Press, 1999. pp 237-260. Quoted in Helene Moussa "Global Surge in Forced Migration Linked to Colonial Past".

2. United Nations Development Fund for Women (UNIFEM - now part of UN Women). www.unifem.org

3. United Nations International Research and Training Institute for the Advancement of Women (UN-INSTRAW - now part of UN Women) and the South African Institute of International Affairs (SAIIA). “Gender, Migration and Remittances in Selected SADC Countries: Preliminary Findings”.The study focuses on cross-border migration to and from Botswana, Lesotho, Malawi, Mozambique, South Africa and Swaziland, although it refers to other countries when there are notable trends, particularly related to the relatively unexplored subject of gender

4. Abigail Bakan and Daiva Stasiulis. Not One of the Family: Foreign Domestic Workers in Canada. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1997.

5. UN's International Fund for Agricultural Development (IFAD)

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Educating the Yemeni girls

Photo: Oxfam GB

With so much of ho-hulla over girls’ education where is Yemen headed? My own visits to different parts give me both optimism and causes despair. The concrete structures of the schools impress me but the fact that no special efforts are being made to motivate parents to send their daughters to schools and allow them to complete their education is disheartening. Recently, a colleague mentioned that during her meeting with education officials in a governorate, the officials grumbled that they built schools for girls but all the schools are running into a loss. What they meant was that the investment and regular cost of maintaining those schools is not matched by adequate enrollment and retention of girls in these schools. This is a clear example of schools being built without community consultations and agreements with parents. Community participation in the decision-making related to the location of the school, facilities required in the schools and the sex of the staff pay a key role in a community’s willingness to allow their daughters to get an education.

My own visits to a few schools located close to or inside villages demonstrated another side of the story. Village elders and school authorities informed that the demand for seats in schools is far higher than the capacity of these schools. They have developed an interesting strategy to deal with the problem. Every year, they enroll the older girls and reject younger ones. They believe that in this way every girl will have a chance to study, albeit late. The flipside of this strategy is that it reduces the ‘learning years’ that a girl has. Since a large number of girls are taken off the school by their parents when they reach the age of puberty, these girls have lesser number of years to pursue education.

The experience of the schools located close to or inside villages, however, demonstrates that a few simple steps can improve girls’ enrolment. If the reasons behind drop out is analyzed and remedial steps are followed in a comprehensive and integrated way alongside factors that have led to an increased demand for seats in schools, an enormous impact on girls’ retention in schools and completion of education can be ensured. Let us look at some of the steps that could be taken up.

Despite the fact that villages in Yemen are small and located far from one-another, the need to open basic and secondary school in disadvantaged and remote areas cannot be emphasized more. The above given examples show that unless schools are located within a distance that communities feel is appropriate a large number of girls in rural areas will continue to miss out education. If the government feels inadequate to build and maintain schools in all areas, it should aid and encourage nongovernmental organization to start bridge schemes, and nonformal education centres to provide quality education to small number of students in the local communities. Such education programmes should be recognized by the public and private sector so that their usefulness is not any less than qualifications acquired in government institutions.

Photo: Oxfam GB

Girls’ education, from basic to secondary level, to become a ‘viable option’ for parents, must be free. In a society, which does not regard education having any intrinsic value or does not see girls education as having any material value, any cost, whether school fees or the cost of book, stationary, uniform and transportation or hidden costs like those charged for student projects, is bound to be seen as an avoidable drain of family income and can discourage parents from sending their daughter to a school.

These two steps alone will not be sufficient unless all schools have women teachers. These teachers should be trained, motivated and supported not only in teaching but also in organizing community outreach activities so that they can induce girls into education. Often, parents are concerned about sending their daughters to a co-educational school because they fear for their safety and honour. For example, one of my colleagues after a focus group discussion with a community in Seiyun district shared that most parents in this community are reluctant to send their daughters to the school because a male teacher tried to molest a girl student. It is important, therefore, that the schools in participation with communities should put code of conduct for male teachers and students and sanctions in place to stop harassment and abuse of girls.

It would be a good idea to provide some incentives to poor families to motivate them to send their daughters to the school. The incentives could take the form of free food, stipend to pursue basic and secondary education, free transport, a fixed deposit that the girl can receive after she completes secondary education, etc.

Another important issue is that education and vocational training should not be rolled out separately. A step that is needed to convince parents about the usefulness of girls’ education is to compliment education with market-oriented vocational skills. This will help parents see immediate usefulness of educating their daughters.

Another critical step that is needed, at least, in the initial stage to give a thrust to these efforts is to give job/income generation opportunities to those women who complete their education in the formal sector. This step calls for coordination and collaboration between various agencies, both governmental and nongovernmental. It requires that the donor agencies which support basic and secondary education, vocational training and employment generation programmes should see these three as connected issues and their grant-making policies should reinforce these connections.

To sum up there is a need not only to invest more in girls’ education but also to invest effectively. This calls for high level of donor and government commitment to increase investment as well as to strategically reform education curricula and delivery systems. And this commitment must be sustained over a long term to provide free and universal access and other facilitative services, and to achieve balance between education and relevant vocational training in schools.

Article originally published at Yemen Times: http://www.yementimes.com/defaultdet.aspx?SUB_ID=21889

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Women and Religious Fundamentalism

A message from Bhagawad Geeta as the Thought of the Day
in front of Baitil Aman Guesthouse, Shela Village, Lamu,
owned by Sidiki Abdulrehman

WOMEN’S support to religious fundamentalism could be explained with the help of notions of women as objects and subjects of community identity, conditioned as much by patriarchal values as men, their interests so intrinsically connected to the community that thinking of individual or collective interests may amount to blasphemy. Also, making an assumption that all women would like to oppose fundamentalism implies rallying behind universal notions of women-hood and sisterhood, and romanticizing women as universal peace-seekers.

Here, I would like to explore women’s identities, interests and values as complex interactive elements in the multitude of intersections and over-lapping themes of fundamentalism. I will attempt to analyze a few key intersections of religion, nationalism, caste, class, gender and community identity in India with a special focus on current trends in Hinduism to understand the layers of women’s support to religious fundamentalism. I will also attempt to link the growth of religious fundamentalism with increasing attempts to control women.

While approaching religio-spirituality, we should make a distinction between the values of the religio-spiritual realm and their practice. The growth of values is associated more with metaphysical aspects of the religion and is seen as the preserve of enlightened and unattached spiritual persons who could devote themselves fully to emancipate the soul. The practice of these values is considered to be closer to ordinary mortals. The intricate world of attachments in which women live makes them ‘incompatible’ to the demands of a spiritual world which is highly valued, powerful, and a typically male domain. Some women may strategize an escape from attachments and create a religio-spiritual space for themselves by renouncing their sexuality and sex roles through sanyas (renunciation of attachments) (Babb 1988, p. 280-285) and affiliations with religious movements and organizations looking for women in their fold to gain broader legitimacy.

To use Gaitskell’s analysis of South African women’s conversion to Christianity through the Christian Mission Stations (Gaitskell 1990, p. 253), these organizations provide women an alternative set of protectors and economic base which makes escape from the drudgery of life as a daughter, sister, wife or widow possible (Basu 1999, p. 200). In India, right wing organizations like the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), Vishwa Hindu Parishad (VHP), Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS), and others, which frequently invoke the goddesses and female spiritual gurus of the past and use women in liturgy have attracted many Hindu sanyasins (female religious mendicants/proponents/ascetics) like Ritambhara or Uma Bharati. The invocations are not only a bait for women but also a reminder to the women affiliates to see the scope for their philosophy and activity in supporting everything that these organizations are doing, including promoting hostility towards faiths and people perceived to be damaging Hinduism.

Talking of the Sangh Parivar, Arundhati Roy says, ‘its utter genius lies in its apparent ability to be all things to all people at all times’ (Roy 1999, p. 181). A broad understanding of ‘violence’ beyond the direct physical and mental abuse and as produced in people’s perceptions may help us in seeing the image of the Sangh Parivar as it exists in the minds of middle class, poor and home-bound women. This perception of violence is linked to the notions of religious domination and subordination, which subvert the chances of survival of another value system. For example, beef eating, spread of non-Hindu values, unemployment, religious conversion, inter-religious marriages, adoption of a Hindu child, etc. may be taken as attempts to denigrate the status and spoil the purity of Hindu religion. Therefore, these may be perceived as socio-economic and cultural violence against the ‘Hindu’.

The Sangh Parivar has articulated a feminist politics that reflects upon such perceptions and created ‘a space for personal accomplishment to which unskilled working class women and frustrated middle class women [across caste, particular religious community and region] might be attracted’ (Sahgal and Davis 1992, p. 9, text in brackets mine). While taking on the persona of a religious saviour, the Sangh seeks to mobilize women against the ‘perceived perpetrators of the violence’. The counter violence or support to fundamentalist organizations is seen by these women as an issue of religio-political identity and collective empowerment to oppose ‘occupation of minds and cultures’.

Kandiyoti in her paper ‘Islam and Patriarchy’, talks about women resisting the old normative order slipping away without any empowering alternatives and women pressurize men to live up to their obligations to provide protection in exchange of submissiveness and propriety as part of patriarchal bargain (Kandiyoti 1992, p. 36). The exchange of submissiveness and propriety for protection brings forth the issue of women’s bodies being treated as sites of community identity in a patriarchal society (Kannabiran 1996, p. 32-33). Submissiveness and propriety by these bodies is essential for patriarchal honour.

In India, for example, Ritambhara’s speeches, marked by incitements to reclaim male honour, remind men to live up to their part of the bargain. Similarly, when Uma Bharati asks women to play a political role without compromising their ‘basic nature’ (Llewellyn 2001), she is reminding that impropriety by female bodies would damage the Hindu honour which corresponds to male honour. The Sangh Parivar seeks to secure women’s support by playing on the tensions between ‘deeply ingrained images and expectations of male-female roles and changing realities of everyday life’ (Kandiyoti 1992, p. 36), which put a demand on women to step in the public space. By using the lack of alternatives before women, it attempts to consensualize women’s investment in patriarchal values and simultaneously puts conditions on her public engagement.

The offer of male protection comes with (i) the condition that women will have to become consenting custodians of patriarchal values, and (ii) an implicit guarantee that they will get the residual power and benefits that would accrue from their support to the Hindu male communal coercion (Sangari 1999, p. 398-408). The perceived notions of danger and security and the chance to exercise residual power through patriarchal bargains may make this offer lucrative for many women (Jeffery 1998, p. 223).

According to Moghissi, fundamentalism is ‘an attitude towards time’. It proposes ‘an ideal past, initial conditions’ or ‘golden age’ which contrasts to the present and can be retrieved…’ (Moghissi 1999, p. 69). All may not view the fundamentalist form of return to the golden age as conservative or retrogressive. For example, by linking fundamentalist space with religion and women’s welfare, the Sangh Parivar makes it possible for a woman to occupy public space and for her family to explain their daughter’s feminism as a form of sewa (Sahgal 2000, p. 198). This may appear as liberal to many.

Similarly, in the context of Muslims, ‘attempts by disadvantaged groups to rise in ritual status by strict adherence to "tradition" or the Shariat are not seen by them as a return to medievalism but in fact as symbols of achievement’ (Pandey in Chhachhi 1988, p. 23). So, acceptance in a social group closed so far or the move upwards in the social ladder may appear progressive and create an incentive for both poor men and women to support fundamentalism.

Fundamentalism also has a unique feature of constructing its own version of the ‘true identity’. In India, this is evident from the Sangh’s move to homogenize identity by disregarding the variety of ‘Hindu religions’, which have existed within the concept of Hinduism (Romila Thapar 1989). An interrogation of gender, class and caste in India reveal that the Sangh is promoting a uniformly brahminized, class-based, transregional modernity and a principle of formal gender equality located in a dichotomous upper caste practice.

The impact is visible in the spread of practices like dowry in states like Tamil Nadu (Kapadia 2002), wearing of sindur and mangalsutra and practice of karwa chauth by Hindu women irrespective of the region and culture. In the homogenization process, women’s space as well as capacity to bargain is being curtailed further by emphasizing brahminized feminine constructs and collective identity (Basu 1998, p. 175-76). Traits like self-sacrificing motherhood and devoted wife are now also being channelized towards building and nurturing a Hinduised social cohesion. In this brahminized, class-based, trans-regional modernization process, women may not have the space to think of separating their identities from the image of the ‘homogenized community’.

The Indian national movement, beginning in the 19th century, was imbued with simultaneous processes of socio-religious reform, specifically attempts to improve women’s condition within Hinduism. These attempts could be attributed to (i) initially, a desire to emulate what the reformers considered modern, i.e., the models of womanhood and conjugality of the colonizers, and (ii) later, the need to engage the wider masses in protesting against the colonizers. It would not have been possible to engage women in the protest without raising the issues which restrict their participation. During this period activists like Pandita Ramabai, Anandibai Joshi, Kailashbashini Debi, Tarabai Shinde, Haimavati Sen, Saraladevi, among others, challenged the patriarchal system by identifying the power dynamics which make man-woman relationships unequal (Chakravarti 1998, Sen 2000, Sarkar 1997, Omvedt 1980). Though dalit leaders started talking about caste, cultural, regional and class differences, but on the whole women were treated as a homogeneous entity.

The national movement identified the humiliated and colonized land with the image of a subjugated Hindu woman’s body – her body, sari and adornment encompassing present India, Pakistan, Bangladesh and parts of Afghanistan and Myanmar. The image stays even after 56 years of Partition. It also plays an important role in the projects of Hindu nationalism. The image of the motherland has been used to exhort proliferation of female deity or Shakti cult among women who find the concept of shakti empowering. The Sangh Parivar sees partition as a mutilation of the sacred body of the mother and holds Muslims responsible for this act of ‘desecration’ (Sarkar, p. 163-190 and 268-288). By laying claim to Hindu nationalist feminine icons and linking them to female power, patriotism, partition and a dream of Akhand Bharat the Sangh has successfully managed to mobilize Hindu women to support the cause of avenging partition.

Women’s support to the communalized politics of the Sangh Parivar also needs to be looked at from vantage point of individual women’s politics to benefit from the 73rd and 74th amendments to the Constitution as well as BJP attempts to enlarge its vote constituencies. The BJP has much to gain by keeping women’s collective political empowerment within the bounds of socio-historically gendered subjectivities. However, any such analysis must also keep in purview the socio-historical factors.

Women in India have long been active in various types of social and political movements – at national, regional and local levels. They were engaged in grassroots caste-based politics during the Nehruvian period when political power was mainly with the upper castes.

The emergence of ‘backward castes’ and farmers’ parties brought in many other groups of women in politics. Throughout, mainstream politics neither allowed an orientation towards gender issues, nor allowed women to use their agency in collaboration with women’s activists to actively raise and interrogate issues of gender inequalities. If anything the incorporation of gender issues has been considered divisive in the mass nationalist/caste/community building processes and movements. The controlled participation did help some individual women to ameliorate their own situation but systemic gender inequalities have remained unaddressed (Jeffery 1998, p. 222) and women’s orientation towards collaborative agency has been constrained.

Women’s support to religious fundamentalism reflects a situation where women are caught between emancipatory aspirations and inherited notions of ideal womanhood. Notwithstanding multiple factors influencing women’s support to fundamentalism and the impossibility of talking about a common protest against religious fundamentalism, it is possible to turn this ‘situation of being caught’ into a ‘situation of struggle’. Not by ascription to the universal notions of womenhood and sisterhood but by recognizing women’s multiple realities of and exploring questions such as, ‘is there a dissatisfaction with the nation building processes because they have not addressed the issues of gender, ideology, power and identity’, ‘are the modernization processes being seen by women as socio-cultural and economic devaluation of women’, and so on. The contested relationships between women, religion, society, state, culture, nationalism need to be theorized afresh in the public space and ‘discursive and related historical frameworks alike need to be (re)addressed’ (Rouse 1998, p. 69).

Article originally published in Seminar #537, May 2004, India Shining at http://www.india-seminar.com/2004/537/537%20comment.htm

References:

Babb, Lawrence A. (1988), ‘Indigenous Feminism in a Modern Hindu Sect’, in Rehana Ghadially, (ed) Women in Indian Society, New Delhi/Newbury Park/London: Sage Publications.

Basu, Amrita (1998), p. 175-176, ‘Hindu Women’s Activism in India and the Questions it Raises’, in Patricia Jeffery and Amrita Basu, (eds) Appropriating Gender: Women’s Activism and Politicized Religion in South Asia, New York and London: Routledge.

Chakravarti, Uma (1998), Rewriting History: The Life and Times of Pandita Ramabai, New Delhi: Kali for Women.

Gaitskell, Deborah (1990), p. 253, ‘Devout Domesticity? A Century of African Women’s Christianity in South Africa’, in Cherryl Walker, (ed) Women and Gender in Southern Africa, Cape Town: David Philip.

Jeffery, Patricia (1998), p. 222, ‘Agency, Activism and Agendas’, in Patricia Jeffery and Amrita Basu, (eds) Appropriating Gender: Women’s Activism and Politicized Religion in South Asia, New York and London: Routledge.

Kandiyoti, Deniz (1992), p. 36, ‘Islam and Patriarchy: A Comparative Perspective’, in N. Keddie and B. Baron, (eds) Women in Middle Eastern History, New Haven: Yale.

Kannabiran, Kalpana (1996), p. 32-33, in K. Jayawardena and M. D’Alwis, (eds) Embodied Violence: Communalizing Women’s Sexuality in South Asia, London: Zed Books.

Kapadia, Karin (2002), (ed) The Violence of Development: The Politics of Identity, Gender and Social Inequalities in India, London: Zed Books.

Llewellyn, J.E. (2001), ‘Uma Bharati at the 4th Akhil Bharatiya Sadhwi Shakti Sammelan at the Santoshi Mata Ashram’, in Kankhal, 10 April 1998, http://courses.smsu.edu/jel807f/sadhwi.html

Moghissi, Haideh (1999), p. 69, Feminism and Islamic Fundamentalism, New York: Zed Books.

Omvedt, Gail (1980), We Will Smash This Prison!: Indian Women in Struggle, London: Zed Press.

Pandey, Gyan in Amrita Chhachhi (1988), p. 23, ‘The State, Religious Fundamentalism and Women – Trends in South Asia’, in WLUML Dossier 4, August/September 1988, London: Women Living Under Muslim Laws.

Rouse, Shahnaz (1998), p. 69, ‘The Outsider(s) Within: Sovereignty and Citizenship in Pakistan’, in Patricia Jeffery and Amrita Basu, (eds) Appropriating Gender: Women’s Activism and Politicized Religion in South Asia, New York and London: Routledge.

Roy, Arundhati (1999), p. 181, ‘Fascism’s Firm Footprints in India’, in C.W. Howland, (ed) Religious Fundamentalism and the Human Rights of Women, New York: St. Martin’s Press.

Sahgal, Gita (2000), p. 198, ‘Secular Spaces; The Experience of Asian Women Organizing’, in Gita Sahgal and Nira Yuval-Davis, (eds) Refusing Holy Orders: Women and Fundamentalism in Britain, London: Women Living Under Muslim Laws.

Sahgal, Gita and Nira Yuval-Davis (1992), p. 9, (eds) ‘Introduction: Fundamentalism, Multiculturalism and Women in Britain’, in Refusing Holy Orders: Women and Fundamentalism in Britain, London: Virago.

Sangari, Kumkum (1999), p. 398-408, Politics of the Possible, New Delhi: Tulika.

Sarkar, Tanika (1997), ‘Women in South Asia: The Raj and After’, History Today, September 1997.

Sarkar, Tanika (2001), p. 163-190 and 268-288, Hindu Wife, Hindu Nation: Community, Religion and Cultural Nationalism, London: Hurst & Company.

Sen, Samita (2000), ‘Toward a Feminist Politics? The Indian Women’s Movement in Historical Perspective’, Policy Research Report on Gender and Development, Working Paper Series No 9.

Thapar, Romila (1989), p. 209-231, ‘Imagined Religious Communities? Ancient History and the Modern Search for a Hindu Identity’, Modern Asian Studies, 23(2).

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Not a Grain in His Stomach

Photo: Homeless International

“Why did you open the door?” “Why didn’t you just move on, being nearest doesn’t make you any more responsible than the other ...”. “It’s not your responsibility to get this man transferred to another hospital”. “This man can put you in trouble, you are asking for trouble.” “Why did you not let the hospital just discharge him and leave?” “You have received enough security tips, trainings and updates to know that you do not do this.” "If it means anything, I am proud of you."

These are some of the questions, advices and comments that I came across between Thursday and Friday, the last week. All those who questioned my action stand vindicated. The incident runs like this: on Thursday 22 July 2010, I left home in the morning to office. I usually leave earlier to avoid traffic but that day I was delayed and so had to fall in the long queue of cars that begin from Westlands going all the way from there to Peponi Road, Thigiri Ridge, Red Hill Road and finally connecting to the Limuru Road. Nairobi roads are long, mostly two-lane and this route is no different. During peak traffic, if you are in a lane, there is no way you would jump the lane; unless, you are a matatu driver who would get into ditches, drive on road barriers, etc to complete so many rounds everyday to get the payment and so is willing to risk own and passengers’ lives. So on this day, the row of traffic moved like a snail ... may be like a caterpillar ... yes, like a caterpillar, if somebody were to look at the two rows of traffic moving in opposite direction from the sky, the rows would have looked like two caterpillars.

I reached Thigiri Ridge and Red Hill Road T junction and was waiting for the traffic on the Red Hills road to stop so I and the cars in front of me coming through Thigiri Ridge could take the right turn. All of us had the indicator on the right of the cars, blinking like जुगनू (fire-flies) in the night. There was a long queue behind me too. I was looking around as I waited for the queue to move. I am afraid of driving but the not-so-bad orderliness of Nairobi city traffic encouraged me to drive. People are polite, honking is rare. Nairobians do not think so. According to them, the traffic on the roads is unruly and matatus are a nightmare and those rare honks, are noise pollution. If only they knew traffic in South Asia, in particular, my homeland, Bharat Varsham! When my gaze moved to the left side, I saw a man staggering up the road, he was some 5-6 feet away from my car. He was looking at me too, straight, unblinking. I saw he was holding a little packet of groundnuts in his left hand. His unblinking gaze, unnerved me a bit and I looked away. But suddenly I saw him near my car’s left passenger window looking sideways inside the car and within a few seconds, I saw his body slowly move backward and forward as if he is one with the wind, his left part of the body rubbing against my car door, and finally and going face down forward.

It took me a few seconds to react. I put the car lever to parking and leaned to open the left door and see what happened. This man lay parallel to my car, his left hand up stretching beyond the back left wheel of my car and the right sprawled in the 4-5 feet space between the left side of my car and the edge of the road. He had blood on his lips. I moved to the left passenger seat with half my body out of the car and shouted to the people in the cars ahead and behind me to come and help me take the man to a hospital. Some from the front and back looked towards me and soon looked away. I heard a shout, “Lady, don’t be foolish, get in and move”. Before I could think or react to this advice, there was a young man, holding my open door and asking me to come out. Soon there was a crowd of workers who generally use the mud footpath along the edge of the road and those who get off the matatus at the junction on the Red Hill Road. Some were telling me that I should pay and settle the case then and there, some asking me to take the man to the hospital, some to call the police . I asked the young man holding the door to leave the door and bring the man inside the car so that I could take him to the hospital but he wouldn’t let go the door. The crowd was swelling. Soon a short middle aged man joined the young man. They seemed to know each other as well as the man on the ground. I told the young man that if he doesn’t let go of the door I will call the police first. The short man reacted and told me not to talk of the police and take the man to the hospital. The young man listened and left the door. I closed the door while the two helped the man get on his feet and get inside the car.

Moving back to my seat, I noticed that the traffic on the Red Hill Road had stopped and the cars in the front had begun moving. The cars at the back also had begun looking for opportunity to pass my car. I opened the door on my side and asked the one immediately behind me to come forward but he and the other one behind him didn’t and moved away. In fact, the second one was visibly upset and raised both his hands in irritation before driving out of the lane and taking off. I looked at the third car and asked the person driving to please come forward. He asked me if I am all right and came forward. The fact that he responded while the others drove away, made me feel immediately grateful to him. I told him to call my office security and inform them that I will be at Aga Khan Hospital. By now, the man was seated at the back seat of the car with the young man and the short man who assisted him. The short man was accusing me of having hit him. The T junction where the Red Hill Road meets Limuru Road, I saw the traffic police person. I have been seeing him there regularly for a year and half now. I shouted asking him to come near. The short man was objecting and telling me that I am causing delay and that this is not a police job. The traffic police person came and as soon as he looked at the back seat he got into the front passenger seat. The short man at the back continued his tirade and at one point before the Muthaiga Mini market roundabout told me that the man has died. I almost panicked and sped fast but the traffic police person asked me to calm down, slow down and that the man is all right. I asked him to either get the short man out of the car or tell him to shut up. The short man didn’t need to be told, he was quiet now.

We reached the hospital and the man was assisted to walk into the emergency while I took the car to the parking. When I came back, a doctor and nurse were examining him and the traffic police person told me that the man has a catheter/needle unit that is used for administering intravenous fluids attached to his left arm. We heard the doctor and nurse ask for his name, age, and when he ate last. A few minutes later, the nurse came out and gave me his name and age asked me to go to the reception and register him. I did so and came back. Two security staff members of the organization where I work, joined the short man, the young man, the police person and me. We learnt one-another’s names – though I could never capture the name of the short man because of the way he spoke – and some more details about our lives while waiting for the doctor to finish and tell us what is wrong with the man.

A good while later the doctor came out and told us that the man says he was hit by a car but actually he is completely dehydrated, hasn’t eaten for the last two days and suffers from ulcers in his abdomen. After examining him, the doctor informed the man that he does have some tenderness on his left side whether it is from hitting the ground or the car, it cannot be said conclusively but he doesn’t have any bruise or anything else. The doctor said that she cannnot explain the blood coming from his mouth wihout putting him under some more check-up, which the man resisted. The man vomited a lot of blood while he was being examined. When further check-up was completed, the doctor and the nurse realized that he has a long pending illness, abdominal ulcer. They treated him for dehydration and gave him a painkiller to ease his stomach pain. About the ulcer, the man finally informed the doctor that he has been vomiting blood for a long time and was hospitalized in a place called Radiant Hospital in Eastleigh where his ulcer was being treated. Since he didn’t have the money to pay the hospital bills, he removed the IV fluids on his own and ran away from the hospital.

The man wanted to be paid some money and discharged. The doctor told him they cannot treat him there any further as a road accident case and that he needs longer term treatment for which they will transfer him back to the hospital where he was being treated till about a week back. The man was petrified. He pleaded to be discharged because if he goes to that hospital, they will ask him to pay up. He informed that his house-owner has thrown him out of the house because he hasn’t paid the rent for a few months now. He said he did not eat because he has no money to buy food. The doctors said that after discovering severity of his abdominal ulcer they cannot just discharge him unless he wants to be discharged against medical advice. The man wanted to be discharged.

I asked the doctor if it is possible that they refer him for further treatment elsewhere to a relatively cheaper place than a private hospital. The doctor suggested Kenyatta National Hospital which is subsidized. The man was not ready to go anywhere. I was told by the traffic the police that my responsibility ends here as the illness of the man has nothing to do with the incident but because the man says he was hit by my car, I will have to bring the car for inspection and we need to go back to the site for investigation. I couldn’t understand why the man would do this but his condition prevented me from thinking anything nasty about him. Rather it made me feel responsible to help him. The short man and young man were also now pleading with me to help the man and that if I leave him, he would die.

Together and with the doctor we argued with the man to come to Kenyatta Hospital. He was not ready. He only wanted the money and kept asking me to give him what I would spend on his treatment. I refused to give him money but told him that I will take him to the Kenyatta Hospital and help him with his treatment. His two friends – the young man and the short man – also told him to prioritize his health. They had heard the doctor telling him that if he doesn’t allow treatment, he can vomit himself to death and that if he falls again tomorrow he may not find somebody to bring him to a hospital. I asked the police person to come with me to the Kenyatta Hospital before we go for the inspection of the car and investigation at the site. The two security staff members from my organization left because they said they have official duties to attend to. The police person agreed and also informed that the Kenyatta Hospital is on the way. I took the transfer form from the doctor and we went to the Kenyatta Hospital.

At the registration desk in the Kenyatta Hospital, the man again insisted he was hit. He was registered as such and as he waited for a doctor to examine him, I went with the police person to get the car inspected. When we came back the man was already examined by the doctor and prescribed medicines for ulcer and advised about the kind of food he should eat. He was told that the medicines are strong so he has to follow the advice closely. I wondered why the doctor didn’t give a written advice and only prescribed the names of the medicines in writing. But looking around at a few hundred people waiting to be examined, I understood that writing is a luxury that the doctors working in this hospital cannot afford unless unavoidable. The man was looked better but tired. I bought his medicines on the ways and we got back to the site for investigation. The man accurately described the condition of his health, where he fell, that there was a jam, and where my car was at the time he collapsed but he again mentioned that he was hit. The police person asked him how could he be hit by the side of window and what was he doing near the car so far away from the edge of the road. The man informed that he came to the car window to sell his groundnuts to me and that he doesn’t mean any ill except that he wants some money. He was still hungry though the saline water given at the Aga Khan hospital made him look a bit better. We agreed that the statement recording will take place tomorrow. The short man wanted some money too saying he has spent his time helping this man instead of selling the newspapers. I felt torn. Indeed, the man needs money to buy some food and the friends are too poor to get him anything but I also felt that I would be doing something wrong by giving money. In the end, I gave the short man some money to buy food.

Next day, when we met at the police station the young man didn’t come. The statements were recorded with the man saying he was hit and then describing the rest of situation accurately and the short man saying he didn’t see what happened but he came near my car when he saw a crowd. He described the situation accurately too. The police person said that based on the man’s complaint, they have to give me a note about careless driving and the intention to initiate court proceedings. He explained that this is not to accuse me but to let me know that an accusation has been made and that further investigation will take place. He explained the process. I was frustrated but I signed and accepted the note.

If I looked frustrated, the man looked worried. He didn’t want an investigation. He had come with the notice that his house-owner had sent before throwing him out. I asked him that if he wants my help why he didn’t ask for help directly rather than using a false claim. He informed that nobody helps otherwise. I understood his insistence on the false claim; he is a hungry man with three dependents in the village and needs money, he doesn’t want to rely on goodness. The police person told him that nobody will help him in the future. When he realized that I would not give him any money, he said that he would withdraw his complaint because he doesn’t mean to put me in trouble but only wanted some money. He gave a statement to withdraw the complaint. He promised to take his medicines regularly with a reminder that he has no money to buy food and that he can keep his promise if he has something to eat. Again, I gave some money. It wouldn’t help him pay his overdue rent but may help him buy food for a month or so and he has full dose of medicines.

I am still not clear if I did the right thing or by helping him I played into his game of using his misery to extract money. But I feel all right about the fact that the money will help a person who is forced to sell eatables but cannot afford to put a grain in his stomach. At the same time, I cannot take away the annoyance I feel towards the man for getting me a note from the police.

On the first day of the incident, when I got back to office, a colleague told me that poor people sometimes play this trick on the road to get some money. She informed me about an incident when an impoverished person threw himself in front of a car. I was not surprised. I have seen the worst kind of abject poverty in India but the combination of poverty and segregation of the rich and the poor that I have seen in Nairobi, I hadn’t seen anywhere else before. Kenya is the most unequal country in Eastern Africa compared to neighbouring Rwanda, Uganda, Tanzania and Burundi. In the Kenya, the richest 20% take 61% of rural and 51% of urban incomes. 60% of Nairobians live in slums. The bottom 20% of the country’s rural population get only 3.5% of rural income. The bottom 20% in the country’s urban areas get 5.4% of urban income. These disparities have widened since 1982 and the implementation of IMF structural adjustment programmes in the 1980s. More than 50% of Kenya's poor live on less than 1 dollar a day. The child mortality is high with 1 in 10 children dying before the age of 5 years. It is said that the AIDS patients occupy 50% of all hospital beds. More than 25% population is illiterate. Check the links at the bottom for more details on poverty and inequality in Kenya.

The incident that I described earlier and the figures given above point out that Kenya cannot be necessarily described as a poverty ridden country. Rather it is an inequality ridden country. This inequality renders majority of its population poor and prevents them from being able to afford basic service needed for a living. The man I encountered, has completed education up to ‘O’ level, is very well aware about the issues in the country and the world but his inequality induced poverty makes it impossible for him to access higher education, health, and housing. In fact, it is pushing him towards what would be termed as a criminal behavior. The short man, as a result of being an ‘inequality refugee’, does not even have political and citizenship rights because he doesn’t have the national identity card. He, therefore, would not be able to vote on the 4th of August 2010, when the country votes in a referendum on the proposed constitution.

Given that the current constitution of Kenya does not even grant equal civil and political rights to women citizens, one can only imagine the plight of poor women in this country. The political growth of the country has not only favoured the rich but has further marginalized the poor in particular women from the political gains. Public policy remains highly influenced by the churches and traditional power structures which were strengthened during the period of colonization. The public policy and practice of patrimonial inheritance of property has also made the entire state machinery patrimonial. It allows progeny of those who made their money historically and established themselves further when Kenya was a colony to inherit the patriarchal booty. Women were never given inheritance rights by the Kenyan society. Women have not been a part of the scheme in which one could gain economic rewards by showing political loyalty so they remain excluded from the economic right, representation and decision-making. Since politics of the country has encouraged loyalty based economic rewards, which in the current times, are not easy to obtain from the public exchequer directly, it is given under-the-table in the form of corrupt payments or the tolerance for money-making at the cost of public good and social services. This detouring of the funds to people who have not earned it also contributes to inequality. It creates and sustains a system in which only those who can make the under-the-table payments can receive benefits or grow further. Those who are already victims of inequality, like, men from marginalized communities and women who are denied equal economic rights, do not have the ability to pay for their way into the system. They have no choice but be victims twice, ie, once a victim of inequality induced poverty, and second, victim of corruption.

Loyalty based politics has been promoting also a system of patronage in which those who are already powerful get favoured over the weak because of their ability to serve the rulers' interests better. Illicit profit-making is another pillar on which the system of patronage rests, ie, in addition to loyalty, patrons also like to receive value for money from the persons they patronize. Poor definitely are not in a position to optimize the profits for a patron even if they were to be patronized. The system of patronage ensures that the weak, including women, are not able to access the opportunities. This is a serious impediment to the exercise of equal opportunities and to the capability to benefit from an apparently well laid out system of governance.

The second pillar of patronage, ie, illicit profit-making, also has negative consequences for the regional development within Kenya. Inequality caused by the system of patrimonial inheritance is more severe in areas which are resource rich because resources like forest and fertile land are concentrated in a few hands. The patrimonial state prefers to invest in regions which are likely to bring greater returns over the regions where investment may benefit the people in terms of their survival but would not contribute to a much faster growth rate. As a result, increasing the inequality among the citizens on the basis of their location. The situation further deteriorated in 1980s when structural adjustment was pushed by the IMF. The country has not given a thought to developing diverse opportunities to address economic inequality rather continues to focus on comparable opportunities. Creation of comparable opportunities in a country with geographical diversity like Kenya is only going to leave the regions which do not have comparable resource base and geo-conditions further behind. This sort of regional disparity cannot be blamed on to nature or geography because it is possible to resolve it with good economic development policy and investment in citizens across the country.

Kenya, like many other countries, which have undergone structural adjustment, needs to revert the trend of inequality by recognizing that basic needs such as education, health, food and nutrition, representation and participation have to be assured to all who live within its geo-political boundary, irrespective of their sex, gender, religion, region, origin, ethnicity, etc. It has to recognize that certain groups of people, based on one or the other ground, have been disadvantaged for centuries. If they are not supported through affirmative action they would not be able to participate effectively in the development processes because generations of disadvantage cannot be wiped off by creating equal opportunities on paper. They would need supportive systems to make them stand for their development.

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Check the following links for further details on poverty and inequality in Kenya: http://allafrica.com/stories/201004210994.html; http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/10540379; http://www.crise.ox.ac.uk/copy/Kenya%20note%20for%20discussion.pdf;  http://www.tegemeo.org/documents/work/Tegemeo-WP30-Rural-incomes-inequality-poverty-dynamics-Kenya.pdf; http://www.pambazuka.org/en/category/rights/52279; http://www.unrisd.org/unrisd/website/projects.nsf/(httpAuxPages)/74EFE206D5C7E1FDC12573D3004D9D2E?OpenDocument&category=Case+Studies.

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Ah la la ho Over Abortion

The ongoing debate on abortion in Kenya ... I wonder when will the 'Holy See' and their side-kicks and cronies will accept that only a few in the world give two hoots to children thrown in the garbage dumps, streets, abused and starved in homes and schools. Instead of caring for the alive but miserable in this world, they are driving the whole world to go ah la la ho over the unborn. This reminds me of a Buddhist श्लोक (verse):

In the great self existing mandal (a concentric structure) of dharmadhatu (spiritual metal)

where all phenomena reside free from cause and conditions.

Everywhere I look for the self called me (in the light of the abortion debate, I read ‘me’ as women),

it is nowhere to be found.

This life force (I take it as the foetus) is but a brief flicker

like a June bug in the night.

Happy is the yogin (the female knowledge-self who practices contemplation) who clasps the jewel of radiant

Bodhicitta (the aware/enlightened self) unbounded and self-perfected

Now, this interpretation of the श्लोक (verse) is far and away from the implied meaning, but this is what most often the interpretations do - they allow to interpret from the vantage point of the person interpreting (and that's how either distortions/retrogressive or progressive understandings emerge over a period)! In the second last sentence of this note, I have given a link to an interesting paper, which is not about morality or legality of abortion, but on a much narrow issue that when pregnant woman needs a treatment that would harm the foetus in her womb, should she be denied the treatment, or the foetus be put under threat that may affect it if born or find ways to abort the foetus safely. The paper goes on to say that the foetuses have legitimate interests, rather than rights, and a sick pregnant woman has the rights over her body and a right to health. So when there are competing interests, the rights of the woman to decide on her medical treatment, to give consent and her health should prevail. When you have opened the link, click on One-Click Download button on the top to download the paper: "Ethical and legal issues in reproductive health: Ethical and legal approaches to ‘the fetal patient’". It is worth a read!

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