Signals from Jantar Mantar

It is disheartening that women, who have proudly represented their country as high achievers on the global stage, are compelled to gather at a protest site merely to have their voices heard

It’s been over 10 years since the government passed laws protecting the rights of women in the workplace and first amended criminal laws to widen the definition of rape and make the penalties more stringent. Yet today, India and the world are witnessing the disturbing spectacle of women sportspeople camped out in New Delhi’s Jantar Mantar demanding justice for serial sexual harassment by the head of their federation.

The response from the ruling party that proudly parades its credentials as a promoter of girls’ education and women’s rights has been distinctly underwhelming. Note, too, that this is the party whose state government in Goa once filed with uncharacteristic alacrity a case against Tehelka founder Tarun Tejpal on the complaint of one of his employees 10 years ago.

In contrast, the suspect in this latest case, a powerful ruling party politician from Uttar Pradesh, appears to be in fine fettle. Almost four months since the complaints against him were first made public, he retains his seat as Member of Parliament from Kaiserganj and explains his innocence and/or the complainants’ dastardly motives to anyone who cares to ask.

Brij Bhushan Sharan Singh may or may not be guilty of the crimes of which he has been accused. But minimum propriety demands that he resigns his membership of Parliament, a position that is supposed to carry public trust, till the enquiry against him is complete. He resigned his presidency of the Wrestling Federation of India only after the sports minister told him to do so. 

Meanwhile, the report from the government-appointed oversight committee, which mostly comprises members from within the national sports fraternity and led by Olympic medallist Mary Kom, was submitted last month. It may or may not have found Mr Singh guilty. We don’t officially know because, bizarrely, the government has chosen to keep the report under wraps for reasons it has not cared to explain to the public. 

The police, who can scarcely be considered enthusiastic defenders of women’s rights in the first place, have belatedly trundled into action following an order from the Supreme Court on a plea by the wrestlers. Finally, two FIRs have been filed against Mr Singh, one under the Protection of Children from Sexual Offences Act, and another for sexual harassment by other complainants.

All in all, the purposefully glacial pace of remedial action is not a good look for a country that seeks to project itself as a rising power in the year it holds the G20 presidency. No less dismaying is the signals the government is sending on the issue of women’s safety in the workplace. Even as its leaders dish out awards to the rising number of globally successful female athletes, it transpires that only half of the sports federation have internal complaints committees (ICC) for sexual harassment. The law mandates that an organisation with more than 10 employees must have an ICC in place. The sports ministry, which did not bother to make this basic check before — who cares when the medals are rolling in, after all — has not directed all sports federations to do so.

This cavalier approach is at odds with the increasing stringency of the laws. In 2018, for instance, amendments to a raft of criminal laws enhanced the punishment for rape and also made it tougher for rape accused to get bail. In the same year, the ministry of corporate affairs made it mandatory for companies to include a statement in the board’s report confirming that they have complied with the sexual harassment prevention laws, including setting up an ICC, failing which they could be subject to hefty fines.

At the very least, the latter ensures that corporations are not in breach of the laws — on paper. But a ruling political dispensation that is perceived to be shielding a powerful man from sexual harassment charges suggests that companies could as well do the same — and get away with it too, on current reckoning. Or that women will have to struggle that much harder to get their complaints taken seriously. This is a familiar problem. In the West, the default position on harassment or assault is to believe the complainant. In India, a complainant is inevitably imbued with motives — and that starts from her male and female colleagues upwards.
 

It is disheartening that women who have been so proud to represent their country as high achievers on the global stage have to gather at a protest site just to be heard. If that is their predicament, the plight of other women working in Indian organisations can only be imagined. In this context, beti bachao is a laughable slogan.