The culture of gender violence

Change begins at home and so does rape culture. Tara Kaushal’s  Why Men Rape: An Indian Undercover Investigation  takes readers on a harrowing journey into the homes of nine “undetected” or “un-convicted” rapists to get to the bottom of the question — why do men, specifically Indian men, rape? For those who can get past the disconcerting title, this book can be a worthwhile journey.

 With a somewhat DIY approach to research, Ms Kaushal, a writer and media consultant, has combined elements from anthropological observational research and sociological interview-based research to test her hypothesis: “Though all sorts of men rape, their reasons for doing so are different within different social milieus.” Disguised as an NRI film researcher and armed with pepper spray, a WhatsApp safety group, and local emergency contact, she spent one week each with nine rapists from every corner of the country. She asked each subject 250 questions and analysed them using a scale “comprising religion and caste, the historicity and occupation of the family, education, language, culture, money and location.” Unfortunately, Ms Kaushal neglects to specify the questions in the book, omitting an integral component of her methodology. It is important to note that Ms Kaushal informs her readers of certain caveats in the methodology, a major one being “excluding the rape of men and other genders, and rape by women.” It is only within this limited scope that the book explores the issue of sexual violence in India.

Why Men Rape: An Inidan Undercover Investigation 

Author:Tara Kaushal
 

Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers India

Price : Rs 399

Pages: 326

 

 Ms Kaushal’s journey into the homes of these men reveals disturbing realities and, ironically, ends up humanising them.  The discourse surrounding sexual violence usually focuses on humanising survivors (which she also discusses) and demonising perpetrators of rape. 

Ms Kaushal critiques such an outlook. As she writes, “[w]hen we call these men ‘evil,’ ‘crazy’, ‘mad’, we situate them as abnormal and irredeemable. This absolves society of any responsibility for their creation, thus allowing us to remain blinkered to the need for social introspection and systemic change.”  Instead, she situates these men as aggregates of our society rather than anomalies. Take, for example, one of her subjects called “The Doctor,” a pediatric spinal surgeon who raped his 12-year-old patient, rendering her paraplegic. The Doctor continues to practice medicine and have easy access to vulnerable children. He describes himself as a “family man” and his wife claims, “kids in our family just love him!”

Ms Kaushal’s ability to create seamless connections between her research findings and society is the book’s biggest strength. For example, she speaks about puritanical Victorian ideas of sex, co-opted by Brahmanism and used to vilify divergent sex practices in tribes such as the Muria of Madhya Pradesh. Ms  Kaushal highlights the prevalence of Brahmanical ideas of sex among all her subjects which influences their tendency to commit acts of sexual violence. For example, most of her subjects situate sex outside of marriage as bad (specifically for women). This not only constructs the category of “bad” or sexually promiscuous women deserving of rape but also puts any sexual activities outside of marriage -— consensual, non-consensual, paid sex — in the same category. She elucidates how this mentality perpetuates the understanding that men are allowed to do anything within the bounds of marriage, including rape.

Despite her commitment to egalitarianism, Ms Kaushal often reifies structures of elitism in her quest to understand motivations to rape across different social milieus. For instance, while analysing the rise in stranger gang rapes in New Delhi, she posits the “clash of cultures” as one of the major contributors. She writes: “Migrants are unable to distinguish the public roles of city women from that of rural women…. these migrants bring ideas and norms of what is accepted and acceptable in the hinterland to the urbanised modern world — where patriarchy and misogyny in thought, word and deed collide with women’s empowerment.” 

Although backed by a research report and even a sub-inspector source who “ascribes some rapes to the poverty and  “majboori  [helplessness] of migrants”, the reader is left to wonder whether this rhetoric would add to an already anti-migrant discourse, even more pervasive now with the pandemic-induced economic crisis? 

In this particular analysis, Ms Kaushal also locates women empowerment as an urban phenomenon, contributing to  Savarna (caste Hindu) discourse that renders rural feminist resistance invisible. Such a limitation is even more dangerous given that the audience for the book, whom Ms Kaushal addresses as “VIP[s]s in this conversation,” are primarily from the upper echelons of Indian society. The book, thus, self- admittedly has a limited scope and remains a work by and for privileged Indians. 

Ms Kaushal also discloses her lived experiences with sexual violence. From the standpoint of feminist epistemology, she implicates herself in the larger discussion on sexual violence, thus forming a more intimate connection with readers. Yet, the rest of the conclusion is rather centrist for an otherwise “rah-rah” feminist book. 

Ms Kaushal posits patriarchy as “one of the primary reasons for rape,” and urges readers to embrace “egalitarianism, cultural liberalism and feminism, and love” to pave the way for a better world. 

All in all, the book is a thought-provoking journey and a good starting point for the privileged feminist or ally trying to make their way through the maze of gender politics in India.  It will be impossible for “VIP” readers to turn the last page without a renewed commitment to a gender violence-free India.