As a woman and a lawyer, my regard for Cornelia Sorabji as the first Indian woman lawyer has been reinforced after reading her latest biography, Opening Doors, which succeeds in placing her among the ten most remarkable women at the turn of the 19th century, on a par with her mentor and dear friend Florence Nightingale. I also feel that Cornelia’s achievements have not been projected adequately, as compared to her peers, in representing women in leadership. There are several singular firsts to Cornelia’s credit, the first woman to sit for the Bachelor of Civil Laws exam at Oxford University, the first woman lawyer to appear before a court of the British Empire, and the first Indian woman to qualify at the English bar, after it was opened to women. Coming from a Christian Parsee background, her upbringing and exposure were remarkably unorthodox even by today’s standards. Her recent biography, Opening Doors, written by her nephew Richard Sorabji, provides fascinating insights into her personal and professional life, as a reformer, feminist, lawyer, or even as a non-conformist involved in a love affair with a married senior English judge of the Allahabad High Court!
Back from the UK with degrees from Sommerville and Oxford, Cornelia encountered several obstacles in her efforts to make an entry in the closed circle of Bombay. Moving on further, Cornelia settled in Allahabad, the place where she had been promised entry as a pleader which she was eventually denied, and where she ended up spending five hopeful but futile years. Nonetheless, her resilience prevailed and her frustrations were channelised to explore alternative areas where her capabilities could be utilised.
Cornelia’s achievements can be best appreciated in the context of certain social and other institutions which existed in British India. The Court of Wards was one such institution which aimed at protection of minor heirs and their estates. Really good are the chapters dealing with Cornelia’s involvement as Lady Assistant to the Court of Wards in Bengal and her sterling sociological work in defending “purdanashin” women which won her recognition and gratitude. The rescue of a Rani and her two children from the Ramgarh Estate in Bihar, involving an arduous 42-hour road journey, two abortive attempts and uncooperative government officials, reads like a film script. Perhaps the Kaiser-i-Hind that she was awarded for achievements in these services was her crowning glory.
What is fascinating is the manner in which Cornelia acquainted herself with the attitudes and ideas of the “purdanashins” and the Hindu wards. Her firsthand accounts, which are reproduced in the book, of the several Hindu households she visited, where she learnt to identify and understand how the issues of death, adoption and inheritance were intertwined, are one of the best contemporaneous records of the pathetic conditions in which even women of “royal” families lived.
It is Cornelia’s legal career which could never really overcome the initial rebuffs. In her early days, she was permitted to appear only in the courts of some princely states — there is an interesting anecdote of her defending an elephant deprived of a sugar palm grove “bequeathed” to it. One would have thought that in her later years, when she finally qualified at the English bar, the going would be easier; but she faced enormous resistance as a barrister in the Calcutta High Court. She was not allowed to use the Calcutta Bar library. Her legal opinion on reforming female infanticide law in 1926, however, was much appreciated by the Advocate General of the Government of India and so she was finally allowed access to the library.
The author handles the controversial issue of her disagreement with Mahatma Gandhi’s beliefs rather delicately in trying to attribute this to an inability to envisage complete separation from the Empire because of her encouragement by intellectuals in Oxford. Also, her perception was that the non-cooperation movement directly impeded her efforts to help the “purdanashins” to a great extent. She preferred the moderate approach adopted by Gokhale.
It is unfortunate that despite the wealth of material, labour, sincerity and effort that have gone into the book, Richard Sorabji’s writing style is somewhat pedestrian and meandering. The book relies essentially on her unpublished “personal papers” (work and personal diaries) and the author’s personal knowledge and memories. The chapters are arranged chronologically but contain topical sub-divisions creating an abruptness in the flow, leaving the reader with an uncomfortable feeling of having to grapple with several disconnected themes. There is also too much of detail about the family, and little subplots, which one is inclined to skip. On the other hand, the candour is appreciable.
By his own admission, the author has sometimes “borrowed” Cornelia’s words. This has had the unfortunate effect of not being able to distinguish between expressions and opinions. Therefore, the book is neither purely a (unbiased) biography nor a indepth personal account of a flawed but fascinating persona. On a parting note, I would recommend this as a must-read for the entire legal fraternity, regardless of gender, to appreciate Cornelia’s legacy.
OPENING DOORS
The Untold Story Of Cornelia Sorabji, Reformer, Lawyer And Champion Of Women’s Rights In India
Richard Sorabji
Penguin Books India; Rs 499
The reviewer is a partner at Bharucha & Partners, Delhi, and can be reached at: kumkum.sen@bharucha.in
