Something quite extraordinary has been happening over the past week or so. On Twitter and on Facebook dozens of Indian women have begun to share their stories of abuse, harassment or assault at the hands of men.
It began, perhaps, with the outing of a well-known Mumbai film-maker; or perhaps thanks to the bravery of actor Tanushree Dutta, who reminded the rest of us about the harassment and intimidation she had faced 10 years ago from a colleague and his political allies. However it may have begun, it became unstoppable fairly soon. Women spoke of many different kinds of abuse, of unwelcome sexual advances, of assault and gaslighting. Some spoke anonymously, but named those they were accusing; others were willing to be open about their identities, but not about who their assaulters were; and some felt safe enough to reveal both. But in almost all cases, one felt one heard what happened in unsparing detail; why the woman felt taken by surprise or betrayed, how it happened, whether there was alcohol involved or not, whether it was a workplace or not, and how the woman felt afterwards.
The very variety of these experiences, and the different ways they were told to us, has angered or disturbed some. The angry insist that there is no “due process” to this, that the unfairly accused have no recourse. The disturbed say that the power of the #MeToo hashtag was being diluted. The hashtag was begun last year by the actor Alyssa Milano after the truth of producer Harvey Weinstein’s decades of sexual predation and assault emerged — exactly a year ago, thanks to a New Yorker story by Ronan Farrow — to allow women to share stories of assault and workplace harassment. But, some argued, it was also being used in India now to share stories of unwanted advances, “dates that went bad”, and so on.
Perhaps there is some justice to the second concern, that all forms of bullying or predatory male behaviour was not the original purpose of #MeToo. Yet in the end the very power of the stories that we are being told must take precedence. The detail, the self-blame, the grain of the testimonies is such that those who usually demand we hear “the man’s side” are quite silent on this occasion. We are being given the opportunity, by the women themselves, to make up our minds as to whether their experience counts as assault or not, whether it counts as harassment or not, or whether it is something else. It may not have been criminal, it may not be covered by the Vishakha guidelines, but nevertheless it can feel relevant — the judgment of our own minds and hearts is ours to make. We just have to listen.
As for the concerns about “due process”, well, Twitter is not a court of law. Those men who feel defamed are welcome to take legal recourse — but they had better be quite certain of the truth before they do. Human frailty and viciousness being what it is, it is entirely possible that a few stories — a tiny, tiny fraction — of those that have emerged are political or personal score-setting. In fact, those that are, appear almost obvious to any onlooker.
Why are women coming forward in this manner, and not appealing to their companies or to the law? Well, the fact that they are choosing this tells its own story, does it not? Of a distrust, surely a justified distrust, in how the law and the guidelines are implemented. Others have been emboldened by this moment, and by the support they have received, to take it further, and register cases and complaints, and we should be happy about that.
This is both a depressing and an uplifting moment. Depressing for obvious reasons; many of us — perhaps I should say many of us Indian men — have thought we knew how difficult navigating workplaces, social life, and public spaces is for our female friends and colleagues. But even that knowledge does not prepare one for a hundred stories on one’s Twitter timeline. But it is a moment of possibility, as well: Perhaps there are men out there seeking easy prey who have been stunned into silence. Perhaps women in difficult situations have an additional weapon in their arsenal now. And another thing: In many of the stories shared by younger women, they have had no compunction about telling us that they were drunk, or what they were wearing at the time, or that they initially consented before trying to stop the man from going further than he was permitted to. They are confident that none of these things — alcohol, or clothes, or being in a man’s house — will be seen as an excuse or even a reason for the man’s behaviour. Surely this is a change from the past. And it is one that I for one wholeheartedly welcome.
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