Wear your attitude

What women politicians tell us with their fashion choices

Fashion is often dismissed as frivolous. Not the kind of thing that a 'serious ' woman should concern herself with. Not for her the needless obsessing with hemlines and necklines; not for her a seasonal update of her wardrobe; not for her a closet full of high-heeled shoes.

No, the 'serious' woman is not supposed to pay much attention to her clothes. She should ideally have a utilitarian 'uniform', the kind she can step into every morning with the minimum of fuss and then go out and conquer the world.

But what of the women who have, in effect, conquered their world? How much attention do they pay to clothes? And what do their fashion choices tell us about them?

This is an interesting question to ask at this time when the world is teeming with women leaders, all of them with a distinctive style of their own. A style that has been honed over the years to project an image. This image may portray anything from power to humility, femininity to feminism, style to practicality. But every image sends forth a strong message about the women behind it.

Let's take a quick trip around this picture gallery to see what it tells us about  those featured?

Hillary Clinton

It makes sense to start with the woman who will soon (fingers crossed!) be the leader of the free world. At the Democratic convention, where Hillary accepted the party's nomination to run for President of the United States, she appeared in a dazzlingly-bright white suit, set off by blonde hair blow-dried to within an inch of its life. This was an image calculated to send out subliminal messages of power, control, perfection. This was a woman confident enough to find her style -- pant suits in a single block of color, set off with a discreet neckpiece -- and stick to it. Yes, it was a uniform, but it was entirely of her own making. A nod to fashion and yet a complete repudiation of it. Very Hillary, in other words.

Theresa May

Reams of newsprint have been dedicated to May's love of shoes, which takes in every style from thigh-high PVC boots to animal print kitten heels. And now that she is Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, her shoes attract more attention than ever before, signaling -- as the media never tire of pointing out - the fun and frivolous side of this otherwise 'serious' person. But it is her tightly-structured and perfectly-tailored jackets that tell us about the essential woman: always poised, always in control, the grown up in any room. And just when you think you have figured her out, May throws you off balance yet again: with a statement necklace that hints at hidden depths behind that icy exterior.


Angela Merkel

Frau Merkel doesn't care what anyone thinks of her. And nothing says that more clearly and loudly than her wardrobe choices -- or more accurately, the lack of them. She is always dressed in an ill-fitting suit, which makes no concessions to the German Chancellor's figure. The message is clear: this woman has more important things to think about than the fit of her clothes. And that is, in itself, a style statement of sorts.

Sonia Gandhi

From the time she entered politics, Sonia has based her look on that of her famous mother-in-law. It probably helps that she inherited Indira Gandhi's amazing collection of saris, a veritable treasure trove of handlooms accessed from all parts of India. And Sonia wears them well, always well starched and pinned into place, loose enough around the pleats so that she can take the same long strides that were an Indira trademark, head covered by her pallu when she heads into rural parts. She is the Gandhi bahu, the repository of the family legacy, and there is never a moment when she doesn't look the part.

Mayawati

In her person, she embodies the dream of Dalit empowerment. So, it is no accident that Mayawati is the only female Indian politician who is seen in public carrying a designer handbag; or that she sports diamonds in her ears that look straight out of J. Jayalalitha's collection. Or even, that she wears smart salwar kameez ensembles of the kind that upper middle class urban women live in. Her image conveys a strong message to her followers: expensive tastes are no longer a preserve of the upper castes. Dalits have as much right to them as anyone else.

Mamata Banerjee

Her crumpled cotton saris and flip-flops have become her signature style ever since she descended on the streets of Calcutta to fight the Communists. And now that she is chief minister of the state, it serves to signal that Mamatadi is the same as ever: power has not gone to her head, or indeed infiltrated her wardrobe. She remains the same simple woman who lives in a one-bedroom apartment and devotes her life to her 'peepul'. A woman like that has no time for an ironing board, even if someone else is doing the ironing.

Priyanka Gandhi

She is the chameleon of Indian politics. And just as she keeps the country guessing about her political intentions, she also tends to mix it up as far as her sartorial choices are concerned. In the city, she dresses like any other 40-something mother of two (albeit one with a better figure than most) in jeans and T-shirts. When she heads for the family constituencies of Amethi and Rae Bareli, she drapes herself in a handloom sari, just like her mother and grandmother before her. In that, she is like Superman or Batman, changing into costume before charging into battle. I guess the Uttar Pradesh elections will show if she really is Wonder Woman!

You go, girl!

When a triumvirate of female leaders comes to power across the world, it inspires young women everywhere

So, it’s done and dusted. Theresa May is now the new Prime Minister of the United Kingdom. And if Donald Trump keeps up his gaffe-a-day performance, Hillary Clinton is a dead cert for the White House. If you take in the fact that Germany already has a female Chancellor in Angela Merkel, this will be the first time in history that we see a triumvirate of powerful women ruling the world (well, vast swathes of it, at any rate) at the same time.

At the risk of sounding sexist, I have to confess that I find this a rather thrilling prospect. A female US President, a female UK Prime Minister and a female German Chancellor. What are the odds of this ever happening again – at least in my lifetime? So, even though I can see some of you (mostly those with that extra Y chromosome) shaking your heads and tut-tutting at my naivete, I refuse to curb my enthusiasm.

Whenever I express these views – both in real life and in social media – there are a few stock responses that are invariably thrown at me. How does it matter if these leaders are women? Surely, leaders should be chosen for their abilities and not their gender? And why do I assume that having women in positions of power will be good for other women?

Well, first of all, none of these women is in pole position because of her gender. All of them have proven track records in politics and have come through the same hurly-burly (or rugby scrum, to use a more recent analogy) that their male colleagues have failed to negotiate successfully. So, they are not women politicians. They are politicians who happen to be women. Or even women who happen to be politicians.

And yes, leaders should be chosen for their abilities and not their gender. But I am sure that even their most committed rivals would grant that Clinton, May and Merkel have more than proved their political chops during their careers. So, when it comes to ability and talent, they are easily the equals of their male counterparts (though, frankly, it is farcical to compare Hillary Clinton to the abomination that is Donald Trump).

So then, we come to that old chestnut: are women leaders any good for other women? Do they stand by the sisterhood? Is the feminist cause better served by having a female in a position of power?

Well, by way of answer, all I have for you are two words: Barack Obama.

As Obama nears the end of his two terms as America’s first African-American President (well, okay, mixed race, if you want to get all pedantic about it), race relations in the USA are at an all-time low. Just over the last week, we had two young Black men – Alton Sterling in Louisiana and Philando Castile in Minnesota – shot and killed by police in circumstances that would have earned most White folk a ticket or a caution at the most. And they were just the latest in a long roll call of Black men who have died at the hands of the police. Michael Brown, an unarmed teenager, was killed by a police officer in Ferguson. Trayvon Martin, another unarmed teenager, was killed by a neighbourhood watch volunteer in Florida. Eric Garner, who was put in a chokehold by NYPD officers, was heard saying ‘I can’t breathe’ over and over again before he died. His dying words became a rallying cry for those protesting police violence against Blacks.

According to the Guardian, which runs a project to track police killings in America, at least 136 people have been killed by the police in 2016 alone. And the Washington Post estimates that 258 Black people have died at the hands of the police in 2015. Not surprisingly then, last week saw countrywide demonstrations in the USA against police brutality against Blacks (#BlackLivesMatter). And in Dallas, the police force itself became the target of an African-American sniper, who shot on a protest rally and killed five cops and injured many others.

All this, while the first Black President of America was still in the White House.

So, if the presence of an African-American at the helm of affairs can’t make things better for Black people, why should we imagine that the presence of a female leader will make things better for women?

The simple answer is that it is not so simple at all. Electing a Black President or a female Prime Minister does not mean that the problems of those sections of the community will magically disappear. No, that magic wand does not exist, so nobody – whatever their sex, colour, ethnicity – can wield it to make our problems vanish.

Let’s take an example closer home. The BSP leader, Mayawati, who styles herself as ‘Dalit ki beti’ has been the chief minister of UP four times over. But Dalit women continue to be raped and Dalit men killed if they overstep the bounds set out for them.

But that doesn’t negate the symbolic value of having a Dalit woman at the helm of affairs. By her sheer presence, she serves as a beacon of hope sending out glimmers of possibility to every Dalit girl studying in a remote primary school that one day she too can attain those heights.

And it is that message that will hit home for young girls everywhere when women do – quite literally – take over the world. And I for one can’t wait to see that happen.

Sexism rules, OK?

Misogyny is so deep-seated in our society that it has passed into its very vocabulary  

It didn’t take very long for the media coverage of the General David Petraeus affair to veer off into the well-trodden realm of misogyny, did it? There was the initial dismay about how another idol turned out to have feet of clay. There was some tut-tutting about how men will be men. There was much shock and horror expressed about how a former three-star General and Director of the CIA could be stupid enough to be caught with his pants down.

And then, with a certain inevitability, the attention turned to the women caught up in this sorry mess. There was Holly Petraeus, the wronged wife, said to be incandescent with fury but still standing by her man. There was Paula Broadwell, biographer-turned-mistress, the temptress who had brought the Great Man down from the heights of heroism with her feminine wiles. And then there was Jill Kelley, the other Other Woman, who had unwittingly set off the controversy by complaining to the FBI about some threatening mails that Broadwell – who believed Kelley was getting too close to Petraeus – had sent her. (Phew! You really couldn’t make this stuff up.)

To illustrate this little morality play we were provided helpful colour pictures of all the protagonists in this sordid drama. Holly Petraeus, the weary, unglamorous spouse, looking every one of her near-60 years. Paula Broadwell, all toned arms and perfect figure, showcased in clothes so tight that they could well have cut off her circulation if she wasn’t such a champion athlete. And Jill Kelley, smoky-eyed and sultry in designer togs that showed off her enviable legs and tiny waist.

The sub-text was clear. What chance did poor old Petraeus have against the combined charms of Broadwell and Kelley? How could he possibly resist their blandishments – especially given what his poor, old, greying wife looked like? And just get a load of how these sirens are dressed, drawing all eyes to their pert derrieres and perky breasts! Which man could possibly stay chaste and faithful to his marital vows in the face of such an assault on his defences?

It’s familiar territory, really. It’s the same song whenever a powerful man is caught doing someone who isn’t his wife. He gets off as someone who gave in to temptation; the Other Woman is stigmatised as the one who lured him away from the straight and narrow. Clearly, the narrative hasn’t changed very much since the Original Sin. The apple never falls far from Adam and Eve, and that age-old tale of women luring men to their downfall.  

And in keeping with these misogynistic double standards, while the men are rehabilitated in public life after a decent interval, the Scarlet Women who ‘tempted’ them are consigned to the shadows to live out the rest of their lives in disgrace. Just compare how Bill Clinton came off after the White House scandal to how Monica Lewinsky fared. Her life was ruined with her name becoming a byword for sexual incontinence while Clinton has re-emerged as a President-maker, milking the applause at Democratic election rallies for Barack Obama.

Back home in India, while our leaders manage to keep their sexual shenanigans out of the media, their deep-rooted misogyny is played out in full public view. When Congress leader Digvijay Singh wants to poke fun at Arvind Kejriwal for his daily ‘exposes’ he doesn’t compare him to, say, Salman Khan, who has a propensity to rip his shirt off at the slightest provocation. No, he says Kejriwal is like Rakhi Sawant, who also ‘exposes’ but has no ‘substance’. 

Samajwadi Party President Mulayam Singh Yadav patronisingly explains to rural women that they will not benefit from the Women’s Reservation Bill because they are not attractive enough (unlike women from affluent families). BJP chief minister of Chhatisgarh Raman Singh holds forth on how good-looking women are contributory factors in causing road accidents (“If there is a good motor-cycle, a good mobile and a good girlfriend, then accidents are bound to happen.”). Congress minister Sri Prakash Jaiswal tells us that as a wife gets old with time, she loses her charm.

Women in public life are routinely subject to misogynistic attacks and jibes. While Mamata Banerjee is derided for her crumpled saris and Hawai chappals, Mayawati has to face down jibes about her penchant for pink and designer handbags (damned if you don’t; and damned if you do). But then, what can you expect from a world in which even Indira Gandhi was dubbed the “the only man in her Cabinet”, as if it were a compliment of the highest order when it was anything but.

The sad truth is that misogyny is so deep-seated in our society that it has even passed into the language. Sexist remarks have become such a part of our daily vocabulary that we trot them out without even registering how offensive they are. When we want our sons to toughen up, we say, “Don’t be such a girl.” When we think someone isn’t facing up to a situation with sufficient grit, we ask him or her to ‘man up’.

And then there’s that old chestnut: “Oh for God’s sake, grow a pair!” Honestly, it’s enough to make you want to aim a well-directed kick at them instead.

The case of the missing handbag

Margaret Thatcher and Hina Rabbani Khar may have made them famous; but Indian women politicians are not fans

You’ve got to hand it to Meryl Streep. After bringing the glacial fashion editor based on Anna Wintour to life in The Devil Wears Prada, she’s now appearing on our screens as the redoubtable Mrs Thatcher, the Iron Lady who is as far removed from Wintour’s Ice Queen as anyone could possibly be. And yet, such is Streep’s ability to morph herself into any life form that rave reviews have already starting pouring in for her portrayal of the former British Prime Minister.

What’s truly uncanny, though, is how much Meryl actually looks like Margaret in the film. There are the tweedy twin-sets, the blouses with a prim bow at the neck, the sturdy shoes, the impossibly bouffant hair. And then, of course, there’s the handbag.

Aha, the handbag. The accessory that was such a part of Thatcher’s look that it became the stuff of legend. Some speculated that the Prime Minister always carried a handbag in an effort to evoke a subliminal association with the Queen. Elizabeth II is never seen in public without a handbag dangling off her arm even though she famously carries no money (she has been known to refresh her lipstick at the dinner table though, so maybe the bag is for an emergency stash of make-up). And there seemed to be something to this theory as Thatcher started becoming more and more Queen-like as her reign wore on, even using the royal ‘we’ to refer to herself (as in “We have just become a grandmother”).

But, more pertinently, the handbag perennially hanging off her arm – ready to be wielded as an offensive weapon if the need ever arose – became something of a metaphor for Thatcher’s bullying style of politics. And those ministers and partymen who became victims of her iron-fist-in-an-iron-glove were described as having being ‘handbagged’, as in clouted about the head by her well-structured Asprey bag.

Such was the power of that image that even now, many decades after the event, we find it hard to picture Margaret Thatcher without her trademark handbag, swinging ominously by her side. It’s as much a part of her image as the poshed-up vowels, the helmet-like hair, and the slash of red lipstick. It signaled a certain purposefulness; it showed everyone that she meant business.

Yes, a handbag can say a lot simply by hanging off someone’s arm – and sometimes it says just as much by being conspicuously absent.

Look around you in our own political sphere. What do you see? I’ll tell you what you don’t: expensive handbags on the arms of our women politicians (with the exception of Mayawati, but more on her later).

Sonia Gandhi, the most powerful women politician in India by a long way, is never seen in public carrying a handbag. Sometimes when she attends AICC meetings or Congress plenary sessions, she carries a mannish briefcase bulging with papers and folders. But otherwise, her arms stay empty, swinging silently by her side, no matter where she is: speaking at an election rally, taking part in a political function, making an appearance at a wedding, or even attending Parliament.

Or take Jayalalitha, the chief minister of Tamil Nadu. She is always impeccably turned out like the nicely brought up, convent school girl that she is. Perfectly groomed hair, flawless complexion, beautifully draped saris (sometimes with capes to match) – but no handbag. In Delhi, chief minister Sheila Dixit shows a similar disdain for arm candy of any sort. And then, there’s the fiery Mamata Banerjee, chief minister of Paschim Bongo, who also refuses to carry a handbag (which is just as well, because she is the most likely to use it to clobber some hapless soul senseless when in one of her famous fits of temper).

All these ladies have very differing styles of politicking. But the one thing that unites them is that the handbag is always missing. It’s almost as if they see it as an emblem of frivolity which would work against their being taken seriously in the public sphere.

Given this background, it’s perhaps easy to understand why we reacted with such outrage when the Pakistan foreign minister, Hina Rabbani Khar, came to visit us with an enormous Birkin bringing up the rear. The bag took on a life of its own, occupying pride of place in every photo-op and effortlessly eclipsing poor old S.M. Krishna. And before you could say Hermes, a Birkin backlash was in full force. Khar’s judgement -- carrying an uber-expensive handbag on a state visit when she was representing a less-than-prosperous Pakistan – was called into question. And she herself came perilously close to being dismissed as a piece of fluff as a consequence, with her handbag doubling up as a badge of shame.

But strangely enough, the only Indian woman politician who makes a fetish of carrying a handbag has escaped that fate. Uttar Pradesh chief minister Mayawati is seldom seen without a designer bag hanging off her arm. In fact, one of her many statues had to be redone because the artist had omitted to graft a handbag on to her arm. But unlike Khar who had to deal with such derision because of her fondness for expensive leather goods, Mayawati has managed to sell her designer bags as a symbol of Dalit empowerment, a sign that she’s come a long way, baby.

Yes, as far as political messaging goes, it’s all in the bag – both when it’s hanging off someone’s arm or missing in action.

Storm in a T-cup

Despite all our hard-won freedoms, a woman’s sexuality still remains the best way to target her

As some of you may remember I wrote a column a few weeks ago that mentioned Sourav Ganguly’s refusal to go off quietly into the sunset. To be honest, I expected to attract some flak for it. After all, Dada’s supporters are famous for their fanatic devotion to him, so a certain amount of abuse was likely to result for saying that it was high time he retired.

So, yes, I was prepared for being told off for a) not knowing anything about cricket; b) being guilty of ageism; c) being anti-Bengali; or even d) being anti-Sourav.

What I did not expect was that most of the attacks would be waged on such a personal level. That they would be couched in terms of how old, fat, unattractive – and, as would follow – sexually frustrated I was. The comments and mails took in everything from references to bestiality, frigidity, even nymphomania. But no matter what kind of perversion they referred to, they all centred on my sexuality (or, perhaps, on the lack thereof).

In retrospect, perhaps, I should not have been surprised. We may have come a long way, baby, but a woman’s sexuality still remains the easiest way to target her. Want to shut her up? Easy. Just call her any one of the following names: slut, slag, bitch, whore, or that other ‘c’ word that is so deliciously taboo.

And while not everyone descends to this level, a certain casual misogyny has become a marker of our modern culture. We think nothing of it if a woman is referred to as a ‘cow’ or a ‘dog’ in private conversation. And when this sort of thing spills over into the public space of the blogosphere or twitter, well then, hey, that’s just another manifestation of free speech. Deal with it.

Certainly, the hate and the bile on the Internet is an equal opportunity game. The men are targeted just as much as the women. And yet, for some reason, it’s only the women who face sexual abuse, no matter what the original provocation may have been.

No man is ever told that he deserves to be raped by dogs. Or that he is so ugly that he will never have sex with anyone other than himself. No, not even if he pays them.

The women, on the other hand, are fair game. It doesn’t really matter what you are commenting upon. It could be Sourav Ganguly. It could be cricket. It could be politics. It could the movies. It could be music. It could even be something as innocuous as the weather. But if anyone doesn’t like what you say, then you are an ugly, fat bitch who needs to be taught a lesson (and yes, you can well imagine what that lesson would be, even if I can’t refer to it in a family newspaper).

It’s a bit like walking down a crowded street or through a busy market. You can be sure that someone will ‘accidentally’ brush against you and that somebody else will make some crass comment about your derriere.

In that sense, putting yourself out there in cyberspace is a bit like travelling in a crowded bus in real life. Sooner or later, you are going to get your bum pinched – or worse (speaking metaphorically, of course). Or even going to a party where some men will spend the entire evening having a conversation with your breasts. Yes, we’ve all been there – and had that done to us.

No matter how liberated we may feel, no matter how hard we may have fought for our freedoms, a woman’s vulnerability is still tied up with her sexuality. And so it remains the easiest way to attack her. The abuse may be physical or verbal – but the target remains the same.

Part of it is down to the fact that as a society, we are so subliminally attuned to objectifying women that we do so even without realising it – and sometimes women are just as guilty of this as the men. (In fact, recent research suggests that the first thing women notice about each other is their waistlines – how slim or thick they are.)

Look at the way our politicians are portrayed in the media. Most of our male politicians are not exactly oil paintings. But for some reason, it’s only female politicians like Mayawati and Mamata who are derided because of their physical appearance. It’s never the men who are told off for their lack of grooming or good looks.

Even when men attack one another, they do so through the medium of women. The most common abuses – whether in Hindi or English – remain ones that involve having sex with the other man’s mother or sister (for some reason, it is never the wife). When it comes to name-calling, then again we have the classics: ‘son of a bitch’ and ‘bastard’, both of which are more about the mothers than the sons.

So, I guess despite all our talk about women’s liberation, we are still in some measure prisoners of our own bodies. And the best way to attack us is to violate them – through speech, if not through actual physical violence.

In that context, the torrent of twitter abuse about the Sourav column is just the proverbial storm in a T-cup. But what it says about how women are seen in our world is what is truly shaming – and worrying.

The madness is the method

You don’t have to be ‘crazy’ to succeed in Indian politics; but if you are a woman, it sure helps

By now you must have had your fill of all those jokes doing the rounds after India elected two new women chief ministers. ‘The three most important states in India are now ruled by mad women’. ‘It is no coincidence that Behenji, Amma and Didi add up to BAD’. And so on and on and on.

But while the sexist undercurrents of these remarks are only too evident, there is no denying that there is a nugget of truth in all these witticisms floating around. Sadly, with the exception of Sheila Dixit, chief minister of Delhi thrice over now, our women CMs haven’t exactly been ringing endorsements for girl power.

Take Mayawati, for instance, chief minister of India’s largest state, Uttar Pradesh. She rules by statue rather than statute, spending obscene amounts of money erecting vast edifices to herself all over the state without the slightest trace of embarrassment. And her net worth has increased a thousand-fold in that period, by way of what she coyly describes as ‘contributions’ from her loyal party base.

Even if you put allegations of graft and corruption aside, Behenji’s imperial style of functioning is truly shaming. Farmers agitating for their land rights are subjected to abuse and torture. Bureaucrats live in mortal fear of being shunted out if they displease Mayawati in any way. And sycophants rule the roost, as the CM’s megalomania gets increasingly out of control.

We tend to forget this now – given our pre-occupation with the astonishing level of corruption in the DMK – but Jayalalithaa wasn’t much better during her own stint as Tamil Nadu chief minister. Despite her ladylike demeanour and impeccable manners, she was hardly a shining beacon of rectitude in public life.

Nor is there any missing the hint of hysteria beneath the cultured, convent-school voice, which threatens to bubble forth to the surface at the slightest hint of reversal. And, as the BJP learnt the hard way, Jayalalithaa is also the princess of unpredictability, capable of blowing hot and then turning cold with surprising speed and startling regularity.

That same mercurial temperament was also evident in that other stormy petrel of Indian politics, Uma Bharti, once the chief minister of Madhya Pradesh. Bharti was never afraid of speaking her mind, whatever the consequences. She took on the tallest leaders of her party without worrying about how it would affect her political prospects. She raged, she laughed, she cried, she shouted; and she never gave a damn about just how crazy she was coming off.

Uma Bharti was going to be true to herself; no matter how damaged that self may become in the process. And you have to admit that there was something terribly brave about that terrifying lack of self-censorship.

And now we have the same devil-may-care attitude in another state chief minister: Mamata Banerjee. And sure enough, she is also dismissed by the commentariat as a hysterical harridan, who has no control over her emotions, who lives by her heart rather than her head. After all, how else do you account for the insanity of her position on Singur, her sheer bloody-mindedness when it came to Nandigram?

But you know what? It is just this stroke of madness, that touch of insanity, which allows these women to succeed in Indian politics. It is their special brand of ‘crazy’ that allows them to deal with the slings and arrows of a world that is ranged against them.

Jayalalithaa wouldn’t have made it in Tamil Nadu politics after the death of her mentor, MGR, without a healthy dose of insanity to shore up her spirits. After all, which sane woman could endure all the calumnies directed at her, not to mention the physical attacks on her as she stood beside MGR’s dead body at his funeral, laying claim to his political legacy.

As she said in an interview afterwards to Sunday magazine, where I then worked, “I am a lady so I cannot show you all the places where I have been pinched and hurt.” And yet, she stood her ground. It was a kind of madness. But a remarkable madness for all that.

Think of a young Mayawati, growing up as a Dalit girl in the feudal, upper-class dominated world of Uttar Pradesh. It took a crazy leap of the imagination to even think that she could become the leader of her people and chief minister one day. And it is that ‘mad’ self-belief that helped her get there in the end.

The same is true of Mamata. Consider all that she has had to endure at the hands of Left Front regime in West Bengal. Her workers have been attacked physically, shot at, and at times, even killed. She herself has been lathi-charged so brutally that she ended up in hospital with a brain injury.

Which woman in her right mind would have continued to battle on after all that? Yes, it took a special sort of ‘madness’ to go on with the fight, and to believe that in the end she would triumph – as, indeed, she did.

So, yes, maybe all those jokesters are right when they say that India’s most important states are now ruled by ‘mad’ women. But let’s also admit that there is method in that madness – and that there is much to admire in that.

No reservations

It will only create a political ghetto for women

If all goes according to plan, the Women's Reservation Bill may well be passed by Parliament soon. And more’s the pity.

Yes, that’s right. Call me a contrarian but I don’t agree with the militant sisterhood on this one either. While I am all for increased female participation in the political process, and for more women in Parliament, I really don’t see how reservation is the best way to achieve these goals.

In fact, in my view, the Women Reservation Bill is probably the worst way ever.

Let’s just pause for a moment and see how the Bill would actually work. To achieve 33 per cent reservation for women in Parliament, a proportionate number of constituencies all over the country would be reserved for women on a rolling lottery basis. So, even if a male MP had nurtured his constituency for years on end, if it ended up on the reserved list he would be summarily turfed out to make way for the ladies.

Even if we ignore this how unfair this is to men who may lose out for no fault of theirs, there is a real danger that this measure would actually push women into a kind of sexist space where they could only compete against other women. (Do you believe for a second that many women would be awarded seats in the general category over and above the 33 per cent sanctioned to them? No, I didn’t think so either.)

So, what we would see is a ghettoisation of women in Indian politics, the equivalent of asking the women folk to cram into the ladies compartment while the men took over the rest of the train.

Is this really what we want 60-odd years of Indian parliamentary democracy to come down to: the creation of modern-day zenanas for women, a protected space, where men are kept out by law? Is it really a good idea to introduce another purdah system, no matter how metaphorical, to keep women in their place?

And how exactly does it benefit women to be pushed out of the vast political space they might occupy and sent off to live on the reservation?

All this, to achieve what exactly? To ensure that exactly 33 per cent of Parliament comprises women?

If that is our goal, surely there are easier ways of achieving it than by subverting the essential tenets of our liberal democracy and by amending the Constitution of India. If all political parties are agreed – as they say they are – that women are under-represented in Parliament and that these numbers need to increase then what prevents them from amending their own party constitutions to institute a 33 per cent reservation for women candidates at all levels?

That’s right. Nothing. Every political party could implement this without any trouble at all. And it would be a darn sight easier than bringing through an amendment to the Constitution of India. And yet, no political party – not the Congress, not the BJP, not the Left, not the assorted regional outfits – is even willing to discuss such a commonsensical measure, let alone implement it. Doesn’t it make you wonder about their commitment to female empowerment?

With a certain dreary inevitability, at every election, women candidates are denied seats by political parties across the spectrum, on the pretext of their alleged ‘unwinnability’. And instead of trying to develop a line of more credible female candidates the next time round, all of them fall back on harking for the Women Reservation Bill, which is presented as a panacea for every injustice ever wrought on women.

So is this just a way for the patriarchal political system to tell women in the nicest possible way: “Hey, you couldn’t possibly compete with us boys, so why don’t you go off and play on your own.”

Frankly, it beggars belief that women are falling for this, no actually begging for this to become a reality, especially when I suspect that most of these seats will be reserved for female relatives of powerful male politicians.

Can’t you just see how this will play out? Male politician’s seat comes under the reservation quota. He promptly produces his mother/wife/daughter/daughter-in-law and suggests that the ticket be given to her instead. After all, the family has long ties with the constituency, there is widespread support for his clan in the area, and she can draw on his support base as well. Surely, this makes her the ideal candidate – and at election time, it’s all about ‘winnability’, right?

So across the country, we will see the unedifying spectacle of women from powerful political families entering the system on the basis of this dubious measure. And soon all political power will be concentrated in a few hundred families who control the system on the basis of sheer numbers. The boys will get dynasty. The girls will get reservation.

How can this be anything but disastrous for our parliamentary democracy?

And as for those who insist that it doesn’t matter which women enter the system, because the entry of more women will only benefit the female of the species. I have just two words to say to them: Mayawati; Jayalalitha.

I really don’t think I need say any more.