At some point during the pandemic, I experienced a similar phenomenon to many others in public spaces in Delhi: I was stopped for driving my own car without a mask with a member of my own family. The police officer took a photo of me as evidence. I told a shopkeeper about this incident and he replied:
“You know, as a female driver, no male police officer has the right to stop you while you’re driving. “If they force you to stop, you have the right to demand a female police officer.”
When reporting rape to the police, a female officer must be present at all times (introduced after 2012). Nirbhaya case).
That impressed me. As is known, there are many similar policies in Delhi and across India: A separate subway car for women to prevent “eve-teasing” (sexual harassment and groping by men). When reporting rape to the police, a female officer must be present at all times (introduced after 2012). Nirbhaya case). At Delhi Airport security, there is a separate curtained screening booth for women with one female officer, one for every two “male” security lines. The Delhi government has also recently launched an initiative to create it Rosa Parksdesignated open spaces for women and children under ten years of age.
Source: FII
While the intention behind such spaces is to allow women to venture into public spaces without fear of being harassed or attacked, it also limits where and how women advocate for themselves and simply exist in space can, and unintentionally defines public space as male. Why are women able to exist in public spaces in this way?
The legacy of partition and the state as protector
Perhaps tracing back to the Partition and the foundations of the nation-state can help us understand how these measures of state protection of women came about. Part of the great upheaval and violence of the India-Pakistan partition in 1947 was the sexual assault and abduction of women from “other” (largely religious) communities.
Many women were attacked and forcibly married to their abductees. Cases of mass suicide by women in communities to escape sexual assault and kidnapping have been widely documented, including by partition scholars Urvashi Butalia. In response to this violence and in an effort to achieve justice, the two new nation-states that emerged after Partition made efforts to repatriate these women and “return” them to their “rightful” communities.
Often one might think that women would be grateful to return to their communities, but reception was complicated. Survivors of assaults were viewed as tainted by their own communities; That is, even if it was only based on suspicion, physical contact or sexual encounter with another religious community made them unclean. Sometimes the survivors’ own families did not accept them for this, and sometimes they chose not to return for this reason. In this case, the state was responsible for forcibly relocating them through a process called repatriation. The state also occasionally performed forced abortions to avoid a potential child’s “mixed” religious background.
Where did women belong when the state controlled their bodies, return and migration?
Where did women belong when the state controlled their bodies, return and migration? Feminist scholars attempted to find theoretical answers to such questions by collecting women’s narratives and experiences of the Partition. Kamla Bhasin and Ritu Menon Essentially, it was concluded that women belonged to the patriarchs – their communities and the state, which acted as patriarch.
Source: FII
Urvashi Butalia It was also noted that the honor and purity of the community was shifted to the bodies of women, which therefore became the basis of their killing or suicide. Veena Das’ work went one step further. This argues that the state has seized on the horror of the figure of the injured woman and created a mobilization point for the state by acting as patriarch, the rational guarantor of order by protecting women and placing them under the control of “real” men.
Fast forward to today: the state continues to “protect” women through policies that control their bodies and actually restrict their freedom. The Partition illustrates how women’s belonging belonged to the community and the state, with the state being the protector of women’s honor from those of other communities. For this reason, I had the right to demand a female police officer; In the pink parks, the women’s subway cars, in public university dormitories with women’s curfews, this legacy allows the state to sanction space and act as a rational patriarch.
Additionally, the general culture of contempt and control over women’s bodies has led to harassment being prevalent: a Reddit post from 2024 went viral about a woman being groped by an older man on the Delhi metro because she gave up her seat for him – in the same subreddit r/Delhi there is another post about how women should only use the women’s car, when they’re alone – when they’re indoors In fact, men have gotten into these “women only” cars with the specific intent of harassing them. These policies then serve as a cover for the state to exercise its role as patriarch, providing superficial protection but in reality failing to address the deeper issues that enable such violence.
In urban India today, many women’s safety concerns revolve around fear of spontaneous attacks by “other” men – not men from their own community.
In urban India today, many women’s safety concerns revolve around fear of spontaneous attacks by “other” men – not men from their own community. This is in contrast to studies that have shown that women are more likely to be attacked by someone within their own network. These fears about women’s safety from other men are the same ones that have surfaced since Partition and can be seen in the way the state enacts policies for women’s safety – to bring women into a space, ” away” from the wrong men.
Source: FII
Given this long history of exploitation of women’s bodies—by the state, by their communities, and by men—women are given a subway car, a female police officer, and a search booth as consolation. How can women fully assert their right to belong on their own terms?
Loitering to reclaim space beyond patriarchal boundaries
This brings us back to my encounter with the police. Many worse cases have been documented where men (from more vulnerable communities who rode motorcycles) were beaten up for not wearing masks. These were captured on video, but by who?
Those who happen to be there, casually in public spaces. The men who hang around.
Sociologist Shilpa Phadke argues that women should loiter. She argues that we can learn from the loitering men – those frowned upon in elite urban society (often working-class or middle-class Gundas). But how does loitering constitute an active challenge to state control over women’s bodies?
It’s simple: the act of doing nothing and claiming the city as your own, with your own body, by being present in the space without reason, purpose or purpose, can challenge these limitations.
It’s simple: the act of doing nothing and claiming the city as your own, with your own body, by being present in the space without reason, purpose or purpose, can challenge these limitations. In a society where the legacies of partition, the protective role of the state, limit public space for women – for example, the only subway – women can risk their belonging by being in space without a purpose.
