The betrayal of a social revolution: Rohin Bhatt explores marriage equality

Rohin Bhatt writes from the vantage point of a queer, non-binary lawyer in the courtroom during the landmark marriage equality hearing

The Urban Elite v. Union of India: The Unfulfilled Constitutional Promise of Marriage (In) Equality

Author: Rohin Bhatt

Publisher: Ebury Press

Pages: 248

Price: Rs 499

 

It has been more than a year since the Supreme Court announced its verdict in Supriyo Chakraborty vs Union of India, crushing the hopes of people who thought that the decriminalisation of homosexuality would be followed by legal recognition for same-sex marriages. The outpouring of grief and rage in response to the apex court’s refusal to recognise their right to marry have found a home in lawyer Rohin Bhatt’s book The Urban Elite v. Union of India.

 

The author was part of a legal team led by senior advocate Anand Grover and also drafted two of numerous petitions from across the country that came up in court during the landmark marriage equality hearings. One of these petitions had Sameer Samudra and his partner Amit Gokhale seeking recognition of marriage under the Hindu Marriage Act. The other petition had an interfaith couple—Nitin Karani and Thomas Joseph—seeking recognition of their marriage under the Special Marriage Act. What Bhatt brings to the table, however, is not legal expertise alone. He writes from the vantage point of being a “queer, non-binary lawyer” in the courtroom whose own future as a citizen was tied up with the impending judgment.

 

The book’s title seems to be a snarky reference to the Government of India’s flawed argument that the demand for marriage equality was rooted in “urban elitist views”. The author does a fine job of capturing the heated debates that took place in court in 2023 before a Constitution Bench consisting of five judges ruled unanimously that the power to legalise same-sex marriages rests with Parliament, not the court. While the court proceedings were livestreamed, and therefore widely accessible, it was hard for the layperson to decipher what was going on. “Breaking down complex court-speak” is what Bhatt aims to do with the book.

 

The author’s ringside view and a sincere intention to educate the public add considerable value but one hopes that future editions will devote more space to unpacking terms like “homonationalism” and “institutionalized homophobia” that are now common currency in urban, English-speaking activist and academic circles but still alien to people outside. While writing for a non-specialist audience, it is useful to simplify concepts and provide examples.

 

What works in favour of the book is the vulnerability that Bhatt shares with readers. Sample this: “My faith in the Constitution and its abilities to ensure justice was shaken and scarred and gouged and stripped and bombed.” These words communicate that judgments are not merely legal documents; they impact people’s lives. Additionally, writing about childhood experiences of bullying, current insecurities about making public appearances on television, and facing anxiety attacks could not have been easy. Hopefully, the author’s choice to speak freely about these matters will offer strength to other queer people with similar struggles.

 

The author, now 26 years old, was a student at the Gujarat National Law University when the Supreme Court read down Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code in 2018. That victory felt personal for someone who, at the age of 19, almost got arrested for a kiss in a car that was interrupted by a policeman who threatened to call not only Bhatt’s parents but also the parents of the other person in that vehicle. “After much cajoling, and the person I was with paying a hefty bribe (he refused to let me chip in), the policeman let us go,” he writes.

 

While the book is not a memoir, moments from the author’s own life interspersed throughout emphasise why marriage equality as an issue is of such great concern to the author and to many others who expected that the court would rule in line with Justice Indu Malhotra’s gooseflesh-inducing statement in Navtej Singh Johar vs Union of India. Back in 2018, she wrote, “History owes an apology to the members of this community and their families, for the delay in providing redress for the ignominy and ostracism that they have suffered through the centuries. The members of this community were compelled to live a life full of fear of reprisal and persecution.” The hope that this kindled among queer people looking for legal recognition of their right to marry was shattered by the court’s 2023 verdict.

 

Readers who are not familiar with the history of the queer rights movement in India will also get a quick snapshot of key moments from a legal perspective. A deep dive is not possible given the scope of this book and its focus on marriage equality, which is a contentious subject even among queer activists as many believe that there are more urgent things to fight for—especially access to employment and affordable housing, healthcare support, and protection from domestic violence and discrimination at work—than the right to marry one’s partner.

 

The reviewer writes about books, art and culture. He can be reached @chintanwriting on Instagram and X