False prophets

So well-trained are we by capitalist/neoliberal ideology that our heroes have become the rich and famous. Some of my friends on Facebook follow people like Mark Zuckerberg and Bill Gates. I know this because their “likes” on these billionaires’ posts have come in my news feed. There is nothing wrong in following updates from wealthy, privileged people; I follow some famous people myself. What I think matters is what we admire in these figures.

When someone offers their well wishes, they will often mention health, happiness, and prosperity. The last element has a clear link to money. As we drift farther away from Judeo-Christian beliefs, the words “the love of money is the root of all evil” (1 Timothy 6:10) no longer apply. And the resultant void must be filled by something. For many, this is consumerism and material aspiration.

So, when I see people looking up to those who are winning the capitalist game, it doesn’t surprise me. One example is Beyoncé. Destiny’s Child was a fantastic group, and while they used their bodies, the focus was always on their music.

Solo Beyoncé of the 2000s was similar, and her music was still the focus (“Crazy in Love,” “Halo,” etc.).

But something seemed to happen in the 2010s that signalled a slightly different trajectory.

This image is from the filming of the video for “Drunk in Love” (2013). The song was a big international hit. What people saw in it, I don’t know. The video bothered me because, for the first time, I saw this performer’s physical appearance being placed above her talent as a singer. And while Beyoncé may be a powerful woman with full control over her career and her image, that doesn’t necessarily make her a feminist icon. After all, the rules are different for Jay-Z in the video. Where is his bathing suit? Why is he wearing a shirt? Is this some topsy-turvy world where he’s the object and the object gets to be fully clothed?

To her credit, I would say that Beyoncé has challenged the Western concept of beauty that has traditionally only valued white women. Moreover, I’m not opposed to a woman using her sexuality to draw attention to the fact that women are indeed sexual beings, and I think she has done this well. But one should not forget that Beyoncé is an instrumental part of the capitalist system. So, when she uses feminism as part of her branding, I think we should take her with a grain of salt. I know a lot of women disagree with me. Like eminent scholar bell hooks, I may be perceived as an aunty who doesn’t get millennials. But those of us from previous generations do get it: millennials come from a world in which they have only ever known globalization and neoliberalism.

Many argue that Beyoncé’s latest album, Lemonade, is a seminal feminist album and a gift to Black women.

I can see that this is largely true of “Formation,” but when I read the lyrics to the other songs on the album, I saw a narrative from the perspective of a woman in a heterosexual relationship. Clearly, this resonates, as article after article and tweet after tweet are being written about it and bell hooks has been harshly criticized for critiquing it. But hooks was right, in my opinion, in highlighting that Beyoncé’s brand of feminism doesn’t challenge patriarchy. So, then, from a feminist perspective, what does it achieve? It doesn’t appear as though Bey has moved much farther beyond where she was in 2014, when she wrote an op-ed telling us what we already knew: that gender equality is a myth and that women continue to earn less than men.

This could very well be millennial feminism—expressions of choice, desire, and individuality that make women feel empowered, but offer no means of challenging the systems that are in place. That ideology seems compatible with the contemporary world, where a few corporations own everything and our governments work for them, not us; where people are working overtime for no extra pay and are carrying massive debt; where a new iPhone comes out every six months and it’s exactly the same as the previous iPhone, but costs more, and people line up outside the Apple Store overnight to be the first ones to buy it.

Speaking of which, Apple CEO Tim Cook is in India right now to cut some business deals.

I remember when Cook wrote his own op-ed in 2014 to come out publicly. He wrote that being gay had “provided a window into the challenges that people in other minority groups deal with every day” and had made him “more empathetic.” He also underlined the following:

there are laws on the books in a majority of [U.S.] states that allow employers to fire people based solely on their sexual orientation. There are many places where landlords can evict tenants for being gay, or where we can be barred from visiting sick partners and sharing in their legacies. Countless people, particularly kids, face fear and abuse every day because of their sexual orientation.

Is Tim Cook unaware of the fact that homosexuality, and indeed any sexual act “against the order of nature” (i.e., anything that isn’t penis in vagina), is a crime in India? I suspect he knows this. And I also suspect that it makes no difference, because money conquers all in the world that the CEOs of major corporations control. So, Cook is allowed to be openly gay and dictate how relevant that is: “Part of social progress is understanding that a person is not defined only by one’s sexuality, race, or gender. I’m an engineer, an uncle, a nature lover, a fitness nut, a son of the South, a sports fanatic, and many other things.”

But laws like Section 377 reduce human beings to their genitals and prescribe strict instructions for what they are to be used for. So, whatever else one might be, if one is not a cisgender heterosexual in India—hell, even if one is and wants to have oral or anal sex—and especially if one is vulnerable and can be easily picked up by the police, one is a criminal. I suppose Cook’s empathy is conditional—as long as it doesn’t interfere with business, he’ll feel it.

We tend to expect those who belong to marginalized or oppressed groups to support causes that are inherently left-wing, like feminism and equal rights for LGBTQ people, but when those people are who they are because of their location within a right-wing system, it should come as no surprise when their version of these social movements seems to fit comfortably within that system. Let Beyoncé identify as a feminist, and let Tim Cook identify as an empathic person who can serve as an example to people who are struggling with their sexual orientation. But remember that they are capitalists. The vast majority of the people buying what they’re selling do not inhabit the world they do and never will.

Change will only come for the rest of us when we dismantle the same system that props them up. So, love Beyoncé’s music, buy an iPhone or iPad, if that’s what you want, but think critically about who your idols are and what they ask of you.

Where is the love?

They say “love conquers all,” and perhaps it does, but I think many of us misunderstand this phrase. North Americans in particular put a lot of emphasis on falling in love and building a monogamous relationship that leads to marriage and lasts forever. So, if this isn’t happening, it can feel like a failure.

Now in my mid-thirties, I’ve seen a lot of friends get married and have children, but I have quite a few friends who are single—some happily so and others not-so-happily so. These are all intelligent, accomplished, attractive people; you’d look at them and think, “Why hasn’t anyone snatched you up yet?”

Making meaningful connections is difficult. It’s not just about the number of people out there with whom you’re compatible; it has a lot to do with how willing you are to open up to others. For my part, I’ll admit that I go through phases: sometimes I’m completely open and receptive to letting people in and sometimes I shut people out. So, I know a little something about this. I also know that there is a difference between the kind of connection you feel immediately and a meaningful connection that keeps you and that other person in each other’s lives. Feeling that draw to someone doesn’t mean you’re destined to remain together; getting there takes time to understand and nurture the relationship, be it platonic or romantic.

When we’re young, the basis of our friendships is largely sheer proximity. Basically, whoever’s in your class or neighbourhood, and isn’t bullying you, can be your friend. And extroverts especially build large networks of friends like this. We introverts, I think, hold back slightly and go through a more rigorous process of selecting from our peers whom we are most likely to get along with. Instead of making friends with the kid sitting next to you, you make friends with the other kid in class who shows an interest in the same thing you like. But as we get older and develop a stronger sense of self, proximity increasingly becomes a less valid criterion for developing bonds. As a result, the pool of peers becomes less attractive.

This is where the Internet offers possibilities. I started chatting with random people online in my first year of university, when the Internet was new to me. I wasn’t looking for people to date or anything; I was just exploring the tools at hand. At the same time, I was meeting lots of different people on campus, but very few of them really struck me as people I’d want to build long-lasting friendships with. The Internet, however, allowed me to speak to people in different parts of the country and the world. That was exciting, and it would eventually change my life. Some of the people with whom I’m the closest today I initially met online. It was refreshing to find people who had similar interests and leanings, as I’d found this lacking in my particular location.

This isn’t to say that the Internet was all wonderful. I encountered some really undesirable characters too. A conversation would start off innocently and then, almost immediately, the person on the other end would be trying to have cyber sex with me. And there were some angry types who would hurl abuse because they disagreed with my political point of view. Today, we call those people trolls, but back in 1999–2000, they were just assholes. With this in mind, it doesn’t surprise me at all that my friends who use apps like Tinder have “dick pics” sent to them regularly. Back in the day, if smartphones had existed, or even if more people had had web cams, I’m sure I would have been sent the same little gifts.

What the Internet offers is the chance to have a (mostly) unfiltered tête-à-tête with someone, unburdened by the judgment and insecurity that can be associated with speaking to a person face-to-face. So, if both parties are genuine and able to be themselves, chatting online can enhance the process of getting to know someone. This is why so many romantic relationships start online now. But what about the weirdos who flood the Net? You will inevitably come across a lot of them. They are likely to hang out in spaces where they might find instant gratification. Apps are convenient, so if convenience is what you’re looking for, have at it, but if you’re not, don’t be surprised when you find people looking for hookups. In your youth, you probably dated someone because you thought he or she was cute, and that was all it took. Things become a little more complex as you mature. Relationships take more effort than a swipe on your touchscreen. And even if you find someone who makes your solar plexus dance, lasting love needs time to grow.

It is important to remember that romantic love in itself does not a relationship make, and sometimes love ends. And above all, we mustn’t forget that there are different kinds of love, all of which are important, beautiful, and life-altering. We should never forget about how much we love our family members, friends, and ourselves. If you aren’t finding Mr. or Miss Right, don’t panic—call up someone you haven’t spoken to for a while, someone who makes you laugh, someone who makes you think about things that are more important than whether some dude you’re not even sure you like is going to ask you out again. Spend quality time with those people. Take care of yourself by doing something that gives you pleasure. When we nurture all the loves in our lives, we will be better prepared to build all the types of relationships we want.

Wicked, untamed women

Apparently May is International Masturbation Month, and May 7 specifically was International Masturbation Day! To mark the occasion, the contributors to the digital platform Feminism in India had a Twitter discussion using the hashtag #WomenAreCumming. This was a pretty bold move, as women’s sexuality and self-love remain taboo. I’ve written on the subject several times (e.g., here, here, and here), and whenever it is relevant to what I write or discuss with people, I don’t shy away from affirming that I am a sexual being. Why should I? Since sex is integral to creating life, sexuality must be a fundamental part of being human (asexuals exempted).

Image courtesy Angela Ferrao (https://www.facebook.com/Ferraodesigns/)

I believe that women who admit to having sexual desires and enjoying having them fulfilled represent a threat. Most of us are controlled and confined by a stifling patriarchal system that views us as property. I grew up in a matriarchal environment, so the rules were different. This matriarchal bubble burst when I moved to India. For years, I had been putting “N/A” under “Father’s Name” on my visa application, and no one at the consulate was bothered. But the authorities in India are different. After landing a job, I had to apply for a PAN card. My father had never had a relationship with me; in fact, I’d never met the man. I knew his first name, but had never felt the need to ask about his surname. So, at age 27, I awkwardly had to approach my mother about this. Not only did I have to include my father’s name on the PAN card application; the application was rejected because our surnames didn’t match! It was a nuisance, both for me and for the person in Administration who had to write a letter explaining why my surname wasn’t the same as my father’s, so my second application would be approved. And when I received my PAN card, there was my father’s name displayed prominently—a name that doesn’t even feature on my birth certificate!

So, my very identity was questioned—how can a woman be single and not bear her father’s name? Unheard of. Prior to this, I had indirectly encountered patriarchal ideas via my mother, such as those about the importance of a girl’s modesty. When I was a kid, and especially in the summer, I would happily sit around the house in my underwear. But when my breasts started to develop, my mother instructed me to put a shirt on, making me feel like I had something to be ashamed of. Until then, I hadn’t thought there was any reason to be ashamed of my body. It’s not as if I was disrobing in public and strutting around in my briefs.

In regard to masturbation, I think I was a late bloomer. Although I distinctly recall the first times I felt that stirring in my pants, I don’t remember doing anything about it until I was well into my teens. I also don’t remember if masturbation was part of “the talk” my mother had had with me; I suspect not. That wasn’t a topic that ever came up in our house. I didn’t feel any shame. On the contrary, the whole thing just felt natural. My only anxiety was about the prospect of being caught and having to suffer the consequent embarrassment (thankfully, that didn’t happen).

Not surprisingly, since men traditionally dominated science, little was known about female sexuality until—let’s be honest—fairly recently. Basically, women have always been a problem, because the people in charge of everything have been baffled by us, and this has caused fear. The entire concept of hysteria—considered a mental illness—is linked to femininity. Expressing a variety of emotions means mental instability.

Right here in India, we have a current example that this belief is alive and well. Award-winning, popular actress Kangana Ranaut has been in the news lately, not for her work in Indian cinema but for her past relationships—one of which the man alleges was all in her head. Another ex has alleged that she was practising some kind of black magic that freaked him out. We, the public, don’t know what happened or what these people are really like. What we do know is that Kangana has always been outspoken and consistently shows that she lives on her own terms. She gave a rather impressive interview with Barkha Dutt a few days ago, in which she declared that it doesn’t bother her to be called a “whore” or a “bitch” or even a “psychopath.” This is how it works: If a woman is unapologetically sexually active, she’s a “slut,” and if she expresses herself, especially in response to being hurt, she’s a “psycho.”

My takeaway from this is that women should be seen and not heard, but not seen too much, because that will result in shame. Moreover, as many women know, you can be branded a “slut” if you deny a man his right to have sex with you (or even sexually harass you) and also if you do sleep with him and admit to it. It’s an exhausting no-win proposition. Although many are trying to dispel the myth that there are only two types of women, the madonna–whore binary still exists. The best approach is to be like Kangana and just not care what anyone thinks about you.

Psychologists have moved on from regarding woman as not-man; everyone else must abandon defining everything about women in relation to men.

This returns us to the subject of masturbation. Truth be told, I’ve always advocated that people partake in a little self-love (sometimes causing them to clutch their pearls, so to speak). It serves many functions beyond sexual gratification. It can alter your mood in a positive way, increase your comfort with your body, help you sleep, relieve headaches and, for women, offer some respite from menstrual cramps. And if you’re going to choose that last option, you really can’t have hang-ups about your body. Just relax and wash your hand(s) afterwards! As Kangana Ranaut said, there is nothing gross about a woman’s bodily fluids. It’s really not a big deal. But becoming intimately acquainted with yourself is a big deal. It enables you to make yourself feel good (something you’re taught others are supposed to do for you) and teaches you more about sex than you’ll learn from someone else, who isn’t familiar with the nuances of your unique body and your particular tastes. I hear anti-feminists saying all the time that men and women are different—okay, we agree on something! So, let’s think of women only in terms of themselves and not as counterparts to men or as a conjuring of the male imagination. We can start by understanding the female body and women’s desires.

Happy Masturbation Month! It means more than you might think.

Intersections: Why Jisha is not another 'Nirbhaya'

When an important issue is up for debate, I get frustrated when I hear people asking what I perceive to be the wrong questions. Just this week, the news in India has been replete with stories of violence against women, but it doesn’t seem like the reporters are interested in the bigger picture. The public and the media express outrage at the lack of governance and law enforcement when rape is committed, but what about the mindset that underpins this crime?

On April 28, Jisha, a Dalit law student, was found dead in her home in Ernakulam, Kerala. Her body had 38 wounds, there was evidence that she had been raped, and her intestines had spilled out of her body. The public knows her name, but not that of the alleged rapist. In fact, more than a week later, the police still have no suspect.

Image courtesy Angela Ferrao (https://www.facebook.com/Ferraodesigns/)

The illustration above was done by editorial cartoonist Angela Ferrao. Her work appears in a daily newspaper from Monday to Friday, but this image was rejected for being “too horrific.” Yes, it is horrific—but perhaps less horrific than what actually happened. It was meant to be disturbing and provocative, to raise awareness about the brutality committed against this woman and countless others.

Now, many people have likened this murder to the gang rape and murder of Jyoti Singh in Delhi in 2012, but aside from the comparable brutality of the removal of internal organs, there are two striking differences. First, Jisha has not been afforded the anonymity that Jyoti Singh was. The latter was referred to by the pseudonym ‘Nirbhaya’ (Braveheart or fearless), both preserving her confidentiality (and some would argue, her dignity) and upholding her as a martyr. Why? Have journalists become more enlightened in the last four years and adopted a new stance on a woman’s honour, choosing to see the importance of allowing the victim the dignity of her identity? I would argue no. I’ll get to that below.

The second difference I want to highlight is that although Singh and her male companion were left to die on the busy road, where passers-by chose not to act, the authorities were quick to launch their investigation and the suspects were apprehended soon thereafter. In Jisha’s case, however, it took pressure from the media and the National Human Rights Commission to get the investigation underway.

In 2012, the streets of Delhi were teeming with protesters baying for the blood of the monsters who had brutalized this young woman. Celebrities also got involved. Jaya Bachchan even cried in Parliament! Many sections of society, including the immensely privileged, identified with Jyoti Singh. In her, they saw themselves and their daughters. But today, this rape and gruesome murder of a Dalit doesn’t seem to be inspiring the same waterfall of tears across the country. Let’s face it: Jyoti was a middle class Brahmin, whereas Jisha was a lower class Dalit. The societal structure dictates that these two lives are not of the same value.

Many blame the government and law enforcement for not doing their jobs. The masses will not acknowledge that the root of the problem is much deeper. While a Dalit body is open to violence—as evinced in the media on a regular basis—a Brahmin body is off limits; anyone who dares to violate it has committed a great sin, clearly. What the two cases do have in common is the exemplification of how women can be punished simply for being visible, for pursuing their interests and aspirations. But no, the vicious rape and butchering of Jisha is not another ‘Nirbhaya’ case. You cannot erase her caste. Her caste should have been irrelevant during her life, but that isn’t how life works in India. Had Jisha been of a higher caste, perhaps her family wouldn’t have been harassed by their neighbours for 40 years. According to her mother, Rajeshwari, the neighbours would throw stones at their one-room house, destroyed their water pipes and would only allow them to draw water from a canal next to the house. That sounds suspiciously to me like casteism.

Image courtesy Angela Ferrao

Yes, women across all sections of Indian society are harassed, molested, raped, and murdered. No one is denying that. But when you deny that caste is an important part of Jisha’s case, you disregard her struggles in life (and death), the unequal treatment that people from different levels of the hierarchy receive both at the hands of other citizens and before the law, and the disdain for the “Other” that is all too obvious in this society. Until the public can acknowledge this and deal with it, the violence will continue unchecked.