Aziz Ansari & the Case of Ambiguous Consent by Tara Kaushal

January 2018: Still confused about what you feel about the Aziz Ansari-Grace incident? Priyanka Sutaria and I asked five prominent Indian feminists—Saloni Choujar, Kiran Manral, Sheena Dabholkar, Sonam Mittal and Harnidh Kaur—to weigh in.

Sexual assault is built on a pyramid of building blocks which range in size and strength. From slut-shaming and 'bro codes' to the social construct of virginity and conditioning males into feeling entitled to women's bodies—rape culture encompasses it all. In the post #MeToo world, the lack of nuanced debate (or the fact that there is a debate at all) around the allegations against Aziz Ansari has been the talk of the month. Pass the Mic curates the opinions of prominent feminists in order to understand how exactly we must face this issue head on.

Let it also be known that although we invited a number of prominent male feminists to contribute to this conversation, more so than women (you know who you are!), we were disappointed that they all declined to speak about this sensitive issue. Hence, this stays a "lady-oriented" set of opinions...


Giving consent to sex does not mean you’ve given consent to anything that goes on in that bed, right? Women should be able to expect more than just not-rape sex. That shouldn’t be the bar. Which it is! I couldn’t possibly tell any friend hypothetically that a man forced me to give him head while we were having sex or that ‘he shoved his fingers down my throat’ and I was humiliated. They’d be like, ‘stop creating a scene and get over it. You were having sex!’
... that consent only goes as far as to get you in bed is scary. (The only thing we see seriously as without consent in bed is probably anal sex, and that’s only because we’re still orthodox about it.) Sex is a two-way thing; if you’re so engrossed that you’re not even aware when your sexual partner is saying ‘no’ then something isn’t right. Two people should have the respect and dignity they desire, even during sex. If you’re being treated in a way you don’t like, you should have the right to end it—be it a man or a woman.
I think that an issue that deserved discussion turned into ‘there goes another feminist cry’ or ‘there’s a bit of a witch hunt’ instead of conversations about appropriate sexual activity and the bounds of consent. We need to talk more about these issues before some people start attacking and others start guarding themselves. And now both sides are busy speaking only to themselves.
— Saloni Choujar
The brand new tunnel through the patriarchy blasted through by the #MeToo movement faced its first road bump. And it was put there by a young woman who went under the pseudonym Grace, and the young woman who wrote her story in Babe. On the face of it, it was an innocuous account of a really bad date where Grace went out with a young man, who persisted trying to get sexually intimate with her despite her telling him to the contrary that she wasn’t interested. The date ended badly, he called her an Uber and she went home in tears. The man was famous, Aziz Ansari.
The fallout of that piece split the feminist movement into splinters. But what I take away from it, this disregard for a woman’s consent is so rampant that we have normalised it. That this piece speaks about it is important. And that we as women need to constantly keep having these conversations not just with the men, but with each other about how we take agency over our bodies and renegotiating the boundaries we set around ourselves and what defines consent for us.
— Kiran Manral
The behaviour reflected in the Aziz Ansari incident is not uncommon, it’s prevalent. That’s why it’s unsurprising that men are resisting acknowledging Aziz’s behaviour as problematic because it will require them to reassess their own past behaviour which they’ve previously deemed acceptable. Women, even the many who identify with Grace, would rather believe that too, so they don’t have to recount and relive the similar situations they’ve been in, because it’s less painful than admitting to being violated. Victim blaming is rape culture. ‘Focus on the real issues’ is rape culture. Stripping her off her agency to tell her story by saying it does a disservice to the #MeToo movement is rape culture. As if people shouldn’t share their stories unless they live on the end of the violence spectrum.
Rape (and murder) sit at the top of the rape culture pyramid, coercion is lower down, with victim blaming towards the bottom but they all contribute to the same systemic violence against women. To end rape culture, we need to be able to address sexual violence at all levels of the spectrum. Dismissing it in the lower levels excuses it as we go higher up.
— Sheena Dabholkar
The mess that is the conversation about Aziz Ansari-Grace, reminds me of how the internet was split because of a blue-black-white-gold dress. But consent is not a dress. Consent is a simple Yes or No in theory, rarely so in practice. While we debate about whether it was a date gone bad, or a witch hunt to ruin men’s careers (as if), the reality is that many of us have been where Grace was with Aziz Ansari. Our lack of conversation and sense of shame around such topics turns a concept as simple, as black and white as consent, into a grey area. An obscure zone where men like Ansari, feminist or not, can take advantage of women and turn it into a he-said she-said situation.
I don’t know what happened between Grace and Ansari that night, because I wasn’t there. Though, I’m glad we are having this conversation now. Do you know how many women Grace has empowered? Do you know how many men are now better aware because of her? I only wish we could have had such conversation sooner, so that someone like Grace wouldn’t have had the worst night of her life.
— Sonam Mittal
The betrayal of Aziz Ansari will soon be forgotten, but the questions it has raised will not. This is a confirmation of some of the most rankling fears women everywhere wrestle with—if a man says he’s a feminist ally, can I trust him? Should I? It’s exhausting living in a world where everything is conspiring against you, and women have been pushed back into the same corner again and again. This also forces us to step back and question where #MeToo goes next. Do we scale? Do we consolidate? Do we simply struggle to survive?
There are no simple answers. There shouldn’t be any, either. It’s time to move beyond catchphrases and linearity, and wrangle with tougher, murkier realities beyond hashtags and trends. It’s not going to be easy to let go of heroes we create out of people who express basic human decency—and maybe that’s exactly what we need to do. Pull our heroes off their pedestals and demand better of them.
— Harnidh Kaur

This article appeared on Pass the Mic, the blog of Why Indian Men Rape in January 2018.

Ask a Feminist | Q. 4 What should I do with mistletoe at an office Christmas party? by Tara Kaushal

December 2017: I answer questions that are burning your bras and run this column as a makeshift guide to the feminist way of life.

 I'm an American recently moved to India for work. I attended the big annual office bash this past weekend. And there was mistletoe, at this Indian Office Christmas party! Where I come from, you kiss under the mistletoe. Just curious—what should I have done?

"We completely empathise with your confusion. We're quite sure that the organiser of the office party either didn't know the significance of mistletoe and/or didn't expect anyone else to. Every country has its own unique cultural norms, and it is necessary to reflect them in your behaviour when you move there, or even just visit. Besides, unless you work at a pervy unprofessional place, public kissing-shissing isn't usually company policy—here and, increasingly, the world over, thanks to the Weinstein and #MeToo conversations. We trust you kept lips and hands to yourself."


This column appeared on Pass the Mic, the blog of Why Indian Men Rape in December 2017.

Interview: Rohan Joshi by Tara Kaushal

December 2017: At United Against Sexual Violence, we introduce you to allies who actively use their privileged positions to help create a fair, free world. Rohan Joshi, one of the founders of All India Bakchod (AIB) talks about the feminist agenda of the comedy sketch group.

 One weekend in Bengaluru, a few months ago, my bestie and I sat laughing at the many hilarious All India Bakchod videos that have populated the internet for a few years now. The cherry on top of the (very funny) cake is the straightforwardly feminist content—from the first viral video parody where Kalki Koechlin and Juhi Pande school women on how not to get raped, to Kangana Ranaut’s vagina anthem which took social media by storm earlier this year.

It's obvious they try. The refreshing candidness with which this comedy platform tackles socially relevant issues, especially in the all-influential Hindi film industry, is welcome and necessary. The world of comedy has long been mired in misogynistic attitudes (what with Bill Cosby and Louis CK leading the march of sexual offenders into hell), and only those who are members of this community can tackle this misogyny, from within.

In this volatile time, with gender politics at the forefront of global conversation, AIB has also been accused on not trying hard enough—that the content not labelled as 'feminist' seems exempt from feminist guidelines and can verge on the sexist; that women rarely feature in the content not labelled 'feminist'; that they focus only on women's problems.

That said, it is obvious they try. As Andrea Gibson says, "It is impossible to be routinely and actively engaged in the betterment of our hurting planet without at some point messing up.... So to be artists and activists right now requires our acceptance that we will likely at some point fail." I speak to Rohan (29) about the process of trying...


So, you’re feminists. What are the things that have informed your feminist sensibilities—as individuals and as a group?

I can’t speak for the group, but in my case, a lifetime of being raised by strong women who brooked no bullshit and called me out on all sorts of terrible, gendered behaviour definitely helped. And for the rest, there’s just the conversation right now, and the things you learn from shutting up and listening to people sometimes.

AIB has been putting out a lot of feminism-positive content lately. What has the reaction been like?

From what we can tell, pretty positive. While you have the occasional #NotAllMen ranter show up, for the most part what we see in young people at least is an acknowledgement that certain gender biases and stereotypes need to change, an acknowledgment of a need for a conversation or a reckoning of some sort even.

What is the process of writing a feminist joke? How does one disassociate from one’s patriarchal conditioning when writing?

We never self censor while writing. The process is usually, a joke is pitched, no matter how offensive it may sound, following which it’s stress tested to see whether saying this harms the conversation or reinforces damaging stereotypes or cultures, and then it’s kept or dropped. Sometimes the process can be more nuanced. For example, what happens when we’re writing a character who’s *supposed* to be a sexist pig?

AIB is one of the most openly feminist creators of content. How does that translate into your workspace? How does feminist thought translate into feminist action?

We work hard to make our workplace inclusive and diverse, and more importantly then ensure that everyone is comfortable within that diverse open space, and nobody feels threatened.

As an artist and a performer, what is the need to account for one’s privilege? 

Massive. I think in 2017 there’s no excuse for not being aware of your privilege, and how it’s helped you in comparison. I’m not suggesting there’s a duty on artistes to go out and acknowledge it every single day in every single performance, but when working with material where that privilege can come into play, it’s massively important to be sensitive. Like, I’m always aware that I’m a Hindu Brahmin Cisgender Heterosexual Able-Bodied English Speaking Wealthy South Bombay Man. And that string of adjectives is terrifying when you think about it.

What does it mean to be an ally? Does it mean content must be created along the lines of the ideology of allyship?

I think what it means to be an ally is to support the conversation and participate at every turn, while being careful to not centre yourself in it, and being aware that you’re here for someone else, whatever that group may be, and sometimes that just means shutting up and listening. Occasionally, content must be created along the ideology of allyship also, but the thing we never tire of telling people is, we’re comedians first. So some jokes just… are. With no higher purpose, allyship, ideals, or goals.

People in India have very strong opinions about women’s bodily autonomy and sexual freedom. What are your thoughts about these opinions?

A person’s body is theirs, their choices are theirs, their life is theirs. Anyone who wants to traffic in restrictions and conservatism in this regard can go fuck themselves.


This interview appeared on Pass the Mic, the blog of Why Indian Men Rape in December 2017.

You, Me & Us: Dating & Drama in Modern India by Tara Kaushal

December 2017: Kristen Roupenian’s viral short story ‘Cat Person’ in The New Yorker—about a short relationship that is constructed via texting and ends with bad sex at the end of an awkward first date—addresses issues of sex, gender, power and consent in present-day American dating. I go on an exploration of the complex paradigms of love, dating, sex and marriage in new-age India.

The central theme of ‘Cat Person’, IMHO, is expectations—how they differ from person to person, and from reality. In the beginning, one sees Margot’s burgeoning hope, an "incipient crush" developing on Robert, a man whose character she is guesstimating around their texts. On their date, he is colder than she expects him to be. Midway through their drunk sub-par sexual fumbling she turns, feels "her revulsion turned to self-disgust and a humiliation"; he, on the other hand, flush with post-coital closeness "started talking about his feelings for her". In the end, he is shocked at being rejected and abuses her when she doesn’t respond to his texts a month after the incident.

In India today, the idea of an ‘ideal man/woman’, and worlds of love, dating, sex and marriage are fraught with a whole host of different expectations from varied schools of thought and influence. On the one hand, we still have child and arranged marriages (although I am told that the latter is not as it used to be). Then there’s love—the ‘aankhon hi aankhon mein ishaara ho gaya’ variety, the ‘Friends’ variety, the online dating variety, the list goes on. Then there’s Shaadi.com and the ‘self arranged’ brigade. Plus there’s Tinder and texting. Add Bollywood, global culture, the internet and porn to the mix, and there you have an incredibly complex and confusing gender dynamic.

The Ideal Man/Woman

First, consider the expectations each person/gender has for themselves and is seeking from the other (in a heteronormal scenario). By and large, I have found that women, newly exposed to liberal ideas and education, have more expectations than their foremothers did—whether to wear jeans, to work or to expand their worlds in other ways. Within their cultural milieus, they seek liberal husbands and hope for more egalitarian marriages than their parents had a mere generation ago. This is causing pre- and marital strife as many males, like all privileged parties, would like to retain the systems that favoured them—pre-conceived notions of ‘a good wife’, subjugation through the ideas of virginity and honour, the packed tiffin boxes, the lack of domestic and childrearing load, the control, etc.

This is true across classes. In a poor household I recently studied, all five brothers had barely studied till the 10th grade; the four sisters were all postgraduates. Trapped in their home and allowed out only occasionally with a male guardian, the women kept themselves busy doing correspondence degrees—in secret, until they needed permission to attend exams, when all would be revealed to and accepted by the family males. What did they plan to do with this education? “Sapne bahut hai. Bus, dekho, shaadi kahan hoti hai…” said one. As much as the sisters loved them, I sensed that they hoped for men better than their brothers. Tellingly, one of their sisters-in-laws had left because: “Woh padhi-likhi thi, usne job bhi kiya tha. Shaadi ke baad ghar pe baithke unka man nahi laga.”

Not that women are entirely done with the pre-existing paradigms either. Many still enjoy jealous boyfriends, and want older husbands who earn more than they do—cognitive dissonance sometimes seen even in the most examined of feminists. As we’re all negotiating who we are and what we want for ourselves and from others, things can be confusing!

The Meeting of Cultures

A close friend was telling me about someone who was going to marry a woman he had met through parents. “Ewww,” I said, displaying the disdain for arranged marriages I carry as a result of being the child of an inter-religious love marriage. My parents met on a road when the dog my father was walking jumped on my mother. They went on dates and kind-of lived together before they married four years later, despite religion-based familial differences.

I had several issues—one, arranged marriage presumes that all those from similar backgrounds come out similar; two, the social pre-approval perpetuates a conservative cultural cycle; three, there is the matter of consent and agency; and then there is the decision-making over chai-samosas as one had seen in the movies… “Those last two points are rubbish,” said this friend, who had lived with, then married a man her parents had introduced her to, “you know it’s not a forced or instant decision anymore. They’ve even travelled abroad to a festival together.” So then arranged marriage setups are now family-approved long-term dating?

Or maybe not. A friend went for a few dates with a family-introduced man, only to have him communicate, via the parents, that he would like to date for a couple of years before he made a decision. A couple of years? My friend and her family thought this meeting of the arranged and dating cultures was unacceptable, so that was that. A divorced family friend gave up trying to find himself a match on Shaadi.com: “Invariably, by the third date, the women would bring up if/when we would get married… I was seeing it more as longer-term dating with intension.”

And the varieties of love. I sat chatting with the fiancée of one of my father’s country cousins at a relative’s wedding. “So, how did you meet?” It was at a daytime disco in New Delhi, when she’d borrowed his mobile to call her home. The next day he called and asked for her. “I love you,” were the first words he said, à la some filmy hero. They’ve been together ever since.

While some of us in urban India date and mate at will with wanton Western abandon like the characters of ‘Cat Person’, the newspapers are bursting with stories of vengeful jilted lovers in small towns, unable to accept that women are seeing futures for themselves beyond the men who covet them. Desperate men flock to Tinder in the hopes of meeting some wild women, asking for pictures of ‘vagine’ and ‘bobs’. Not that the consensual dating-mating is simple either—what do I really know about this person? How much does texting count? Sex on the first date or on the third? What if it’s bad sex? Just casual or is there something here…? Are we a couple? The ‘L’ word? How does one break up?

As these styles of relationships with their unique protocols meet in blaze of cultural chaos, we are bound to fumble in our interpersonal dealings. The trick is to be kind, empathetic and simply polite, and communicate the in best way possible.


This article was commissioned by Mumbai Mirror in December 2017.

Ask a Feminist | Q. 3 What is the difference between feminism in theory and in practice? by Tara Kaushal

December 2017: I answer questions that are burning your bras and run this column as a makeshift guide to the feminist way of life.

There seems to be some difference in the 'theory and the 'practice' of feminism. Could you help me understand why it is so?

"Like all movements, feminism is both theoretical and practical. In theory, we say that feminism is about equality. But what is often forgotten is that, on the ground level, equality cannot be achieved simply by offering non-male genders the right to something and believing that the problem has been solved. If you haven't been allowed to run for centuries and the playing field hasn't been level, simply levelling the field will not create equality. Teaching you to run is what will actually facilitate change. Similarly, when a community is suppressed for generations, it is not equality but equity that can both level the field and teach its members to run. So it might seem as though women and other non-male genders are 'getting more' which is 'not equality'. Remember, equity involves taking affirmative actions to compensate for the systemic historic oppression these genders have faced."


This column appeared on Pass the Mic, the blog of Why Indian Men Rape in December 2017.

Ask a Feminist | Q. 2 What is 'savarna' feminism? by Tara Kaushal

December 2017: I answer questions that are burning your bras and run this column as a makeshift guide to the feminist way of life.

With regard to Raya Sarkar's List, I have heard the phrase 'savarna feminism' thrown around a lot. Could you explain what it means?

“Like all movements, feminism is both theoretical and practical. In theory, we say that feminism is about equality. But what is often forgotten is that, on the ground level, equality cannot be achieved simply by offering non-male genders the right to something and believing that the problem has been solved. If you haven't been allowed to run for centuries and the playing field hasn't been level, simply levelling the field will not create equality. Teaching you to run is what will actually facilitate change. Similarly, when a community is suppressed for generations, it is not equality but equity that can both level the field and teach its members to run. So it might seem as though women and other non-male genders are 'getting more' which is 'not equality'. Remember, equity involves taking affirmative actions to compensate for the systemic historic oppression these genders have faced.”


This column appeared on Pass the Mic, the blog of Why Indian Men Rape in December 2017.

Ask a Feminist | Q. 1 Why do some feminists hate men? by Tara Kaushal

December 2017: I answer questions that are burning your bras and run this column as a makeshift guide to the feminist way of life.

During this #metoo wave I read a lot of horrible stories, stories which I don't wish on anyone and I despise. But something that I also encountered these days is, because of all those negative encounters with men, some women who call themselves 'feminists' are actually just hating men. And that is terrifying me. I feel I cannot say anything, can't have my own opinion without being frowned upon. Is this something you would agree on?

"Having an opinion is completely fine; however, if your opinion submits to the patriarchal structure (with or without intention), feminists will most certainly fight back. However, if you have been subject to random man-hating in the garb of feminism, sorry. Feminism is not equal to misandry and we all know some wonderful men... The appropriate answer when confronted with man-hating is to point out that feminism is not a fight between men and women, but between philosophies—of patriarchy vs equality. Just as some men are feminists and believe in human rights, women can be perpetrators of patriarchy. By hating on all men, misandrists do a disservice to the cause, where like-minded people of all genders should unite to fight the good fight. Further, all women who call themselves 'feminists' are not necessarily representative of feminism as a whole. We hope you find the space and company conducive for your feminist ideas to evolve..."


This column appeared on Pass the Mic, the blog of Why Indian Men Rape in December 2017.

Feminism & the Indian Man by Tara Kaushal

November 2017: Understanding consent and rape in a gendered society.

I think I was born a feminist, although obviously not fully formed (still evolving!), and I have been deeply interested in gender violence in particular. It is apparent that a lot of the impositions imposed on women—don’t go there, don’t do this, don’t wear this, don’t laugh too loud, don’t stay out too late—come from a need to protect us from violence. With reason: I have and do pay a price for being someone who pushes the boundaries, as do countless other women just wanting to live their lives. Not that we are always safe at home or in marriages…

But the focus must move away from the women and to the cause—the perpetrators and culture of violence. And, understanding the problem is the first step to solving it. Thus the question: why do Indian men rape?

Research Methodology & Primary Findings

My primary research methodology involves spending up to a week each, undercover, with 10 perpetrators across the country, in their home environments; interviewing and observing them, and their family and friends. This is in addition to all the books I’m reading, experts I’m interviewing, etc.

We live in a particularly gendered society, with deeply entrenched rigid norms. Then there’s the internet, bringing liberal, modern, feminist ideas into minds and homes through phones. Plus there’s the unfettered access to porn from an early age. And then, there is NO understanding of consent and rape, neither legally nor socially—how can we, when we still have arranged and child marriages? There are so many instances of mixed legal signals—a woman who has lived with a man for 32 years is allowed to claim ‘rape’ if he doesn’t marry her; Mahmood Farooqui was acquitted on the basis of the complainant’s ‘soft no’; child marriage is illegal but recognised, yet sex with a child wife is rape—contributing to this confusion.

As these and other paradigms meet, the gender dynamic is fraught with conflict and different expectations—of each other and for ourselves. One of my subjects, known to gang rape women found alone with their boyfriends, didn’t believe such a thing as rape exists—no sex happens without a woman’s consent, according to him, ignoring the role of his gang’s coercion and power.

From this khichdi “into that heaven of freedom, my father, let my country awake.”

How We Deal with the Idea of Gender

We retain the Victorian model of the gender binary long since it has been challenged—if not abandoned—in its country and since its era of origin. Historic texts show that many Indian religions-societies-cultures acknowledged gender plurality and the existence of a third gender (although its social roles were also rigidly defined). Yet we are only now giving ‘others’ on the gender spectrum legal recognition—because the IPC is based on the puritanical English legal system of the time.

Men are trapped in gender binaries as much as women are—forced to be breadwinners, protectors and perpetrators of their positional superiority, emotionless automatons. This binary is unhealthy and excludes people who don’t fit in to it owing to their sexual or gender orientation—or simply, their individuality. Why must the Hijra community congeal outside mainstream society? Why did the post-op trans man who worked with me have to deal with such vicious rumours in our ‘liberal’ media organisation? Who defines normal, and what is normal anyway?

The change has to come top-down, through the legal system and enforcement, and bottom-up, through media and education’s impact on society and culture.

Impact of Education & the Relevance of Western Feminism in India

Education, the media and the internet are exposing people to ideas of female liberation and modernity. This is having a trickle-down effect, percolating all societies and cultures, even in the remotest villages I’ve visited—whether or not cultural custodians like it. The other day, I watched a man teach his wife to drive a scooter on a village road. “Dekho, madam,” said one of my companions, picking up on a conversation we had just been having, “dus saal pehle toh yeh aurat ghoonghat mein hoti, ghar se bahar nahi nikalti… aur ab akeli road pe scooter chalayegi.

But there is a long way to go. A dear friend is a highly educated and successful professional, who, in her 30s, married another professional she met online. They moved abroad, but the marriage collapsed shortly after. “He wanted me to make him a tiffin everyday, babe,” she said to me, “and he didn’t want me to travel for work… Why didn’t he just marry some village girl if that’s the kind of marriage he wanted?” Men and women are trying to negotiate these new realities, and fumbling.

Neither Western feminism or Indian feminism can be considered hegemonic cannons; they are pluralistic and continue to evolve. I believe that feminist theory and the ultimate goals—freedom and equality (through equity)—are common; its practice is experienced and lived in context.

Challenges Before the Feminist Movement in India

There are many Indias, living simultaneously in many centuries, and there are feminist battles to be fought at all levels. Elements from all waves of Western feminism—legal rights from the first, social rights from the second, individual expression from the third and online activism from the fourth—are all valid here. While privileged feminists battle for the right to retain our surname after marriage, the length of our hemlines and other ‘evolved’ issues, we’re still battling dowry, child marriage and the right to education on other levels. The twain meet in strange ways—I’ve heard of women earning to help pay for their own dowries!

The biggest challenge of the Indian feminist movement is to unify despite these differences, to be truly intersectional and recognise the context of each of these battles being fought—acknowledging considerations of time, place, age, religion, caste, class, economics, etc. Feminist activists are pushing as many boundaries as they can in their respective milieus, and we need to respect each other.

Do we understand feminism… I don’t know. My own circle of friends and followers is an echo chamber of feminist thought, but this is not representational of India at all. In the upper and middle classes though, I have a bit of concern about the popularity of ‘choice feminism’ that is evoked to justify the resurgence of karva chauth and other old-fashioned practices—not all choices made by women are feminist, just because they are women’s choices. And there are the open-ended questions—is a woman performing an item number empowered or pandering to the male gaze? Should the fear of pandering to the male gaze make her cover up?—that drive us mad.

Effect of Class & Caste on Gender Roles

Class in India can be described as an intersection between religion and caste, culture, money, education, language, and the historicity and vocation of the family. And the gender dynamic is unique to each situation. For instance, women are taught to aspire to marry wealthy men, and doing so is a badge of honour. However, women married in to wealthy families are often very disempowered—they aren’t encouraged to work in light of the family money and/or their earnings are ridiculed, and their economic dependence can lead to situations ripe for domestic violence. Needless to say, my advice to women is to ensure their financial independence at all times.

Class position impacts the level of entitlement men feel, and it follows that gender violence tends to follow class lines, with men of any class feeling entitled to women of their class and below. (Of course, there are instances where these class lines are subverted and power dynamic shifted, like in the Delhi Gang Rape because of the number of men, or where the domestic help violates the child of the family, etc.)

At the crux of the matter lies the fact that egalitarian ideas, including feminism, are at odds with the hierarchical Indian caste system, the very basis of our cultural structure. We need to learn to respect the personhood of people across classes, extending to the women.

How Can the Indian Man Join the Feminist Movement in India?

In inviting Indian men to join the feminist movement, I could extoll the advantages of feminism for men, and there are many. But advantages to the men are somewhat irrelevant.

Truth is, not being a feminist today is an unconscionable stand. You either don’t see the historic privileges accorded to the male gender, or you don’t think other genders deserve those privileges. Which makes you either stupid or an asshole… or both.


An edited version of this article appeared on CJP in November 2017.