Kavita Panjabi

 

A republic truly comes of age when its women too claim it. The 71st Republic Day of India marked a proud year for this nation when its republic truly came of age.

 

When millions of women begin to insist that the state is a matter of res publica, a public affair, and not the private estate of rulers to decree as they please, then it marks a turning point in the history of the nation. When women take over public spaces in small towns and big cities across the country with the power we are witnessing today, then theirs is a force not to be underestimated; and when they claim in unison that it is their historical rooting in the soil of Hindustan that will determine their nationality, as well as the the place of their graves, then the authority of papers indeed does seem to decline.

 

On this Republic Day, Kolkata’s Park Circus Maidan wore a festive look, with a profusion of orange, white and green balloons and streamers dotting the sky, and portraits of Dr B.R. Ambedkar, evoking the primacy of the constitution, towering high. Under the national flag that stretches across the entire length of the makeshift “stage” area each day, women and men of all denominations chant slogans; students perform rap, and musicians their songs; school students, escorted there in uniform by their teachers, read the preamble and sing the national anthem, ‘Saare jahan se achha’ and ‘We shall overcome’; and doctors march in to extend their solidarity.

 

Students from Alia and Brabourne, Bangabasi and Maulana Azad, and from Presidency, Loreto, Xaviers and Jadavpur,  have of course been holding strong in powerful solidarity with the women right from the first day. In fact, as one of the women said, Park Circus has become a “mini Hindustan”.

 

Women have finally claimed agency on the fields of this nation, and the anti-colonial movement is a constant reference point. Asmat Jamil, one of the women who spearheaded the Park Circus women’s protest, and has a BA degree in history from Bhawanipur Education Society, Kolkata, evokes the Rowlatt Act of 1919: “As Gandhi had declared a struggle for azadi in 1919, and the chants of freedom rent every part of this country, so we too have declared azadi now—the freedom to lay claim to our own land.”

 

Neelam Ghazala, the principal of a school who holds a PhD in the humanities from Calcutta University and posts in the executive bodies of several organisations, points out, “When the civil disobedience movement was launched, when the non-cooperation movement happened, the British lost their seat of power. We too are ready to put our lives at stake now.”

 

What compelled thousands of women who had never stepped out in protest to take over the maidan with such vigour? Jamil, who has been coming here since the first day with 18 women from her family, explains, “If a housewife steps out then something extraordinary has happened, something really terrible has happened. Hindustaan ki sarzameen, the land of Hindustan, Hindustaan ki mitti, the very soil of Hindustan, beckons us in its sorrow. As mothers we understand the sorrow of this earth, of the mother who sees her children divided, their lives drenched in blood, their home poisoned with hatred. They have passed a law questioning our very right to our own land, now they are threatening our very existence, now we cannot keep quiet.”

 

As the land is endangered, so is the home. When the home itself is in danger, then women have to step out of the home to save the home.

 

This is a political notion of motherhood that transcends all strategic rhetoric. Right across the Park Circus maidan, women poor and affluent, non-literate and highly educated, all echo a powerful litany of grievances:

 

“They brought down our mosque, we said nothing; they threw our sons out of trains and lynched our men to death on the mere suspicion that they were carrying beef, we were quiet; they passed judgement on our personal laws, we had to accept it; they issued a partial judgement on Babri Masjid, we kept shut because we had promised we would; now they have attacked our daughters in universities …”

 

The daughters that were attacked in Jamia Millia Islamia, in Jawaharlal Nehru University and in Aligarh Muslim University were not the biological daughters of the Park Circus Women; they were the daughters of the nation.

 

The irony that the people who chanted “Beti Bachao, Beti Padhao” were the very ones responsible for the crackdown on the Jamia women, or the sidetracking of economic issues, is not lost on the protesting women either. “Those very girls, the women they wanted to educate, are now rising against the NRC and CAA,” says Jamil. Citing the inadequacy of rape laws and the effect of poverty on women, she points out that women wanted better laws against rape, they wanted the eradication of poverty, but the government instead diverted attention away from these concerns to the CAA. “We’re not fighting for religion, we’re fighting for humanity,” she asserts.

 

Jaweriya Mehreen, a medical student, says, “Come and see if it is only Muslims protesting here. No, everyone is protesting—most of the time the microphone is in the hands of ‘non-Muslims’, and that is very good, that all are standing by us! It is good, for this government is the enemy not just of Muslims but of all those who are poor, who are illiterate, who do not have documents and who will suffer the most.”

 

The dam has burst; it seems as if the terrifying culture of fear has killed fear. Instead, the women have laid claim to their azadi. Asked if one should safeguard their actual names, Baby Razia, a modest homemaker and social worker, responded spiritedly with: “Nahin nahin, likhiye na! Hum to Azad hain na! (No no, go ahead and write! We are a free people!)”

 

The police have tried to break up their demonstrations, but they have been resilient. One woman claimed that there are now over 40 women-led demonstrations in public spaces across the country. These include Shaheen Bagh and Khureji in Delhi and Park Circus Maidan, the Ekbalpur Nawab Ali Park, Watgunge and Nakhoda Masjid in Kolkata. Ghantaghar in Lucknow, Frazer Town in Bengaluru and Roshan Bagh in Allahabad too have all been occupied by them.

 

The protest has spread to smaller cities and towns too—to Muhammad Ali Park in Kanpur’s Chamanganj, Bhopal’s Iqbal Maidan, Pune’s Kondhwa, Jaipur’s Albert Hall, Raipur’s Jaistambh Chowk, Patna’s Sabzibagh, Gaya’s Shanti Bagh and other spaces in the towns of Kishanganj, Bahadurganj and Gopalganj in Bihar, and Berhampur in West Bengal.

 

In processions too women have made their presence felt—on January 6 this year, Malegaon saw an estimated 50,000 women taking to the streets to protest against the CAA, NRC and National Population Register, led by women students of Jamia Millia Islamia, Delhi.

 

One of the major shifts has been that men are not only backing women’s massive entry into the public sphere, they are actually playing quietly supportive roles. A large number are self-employed in small businesses and hence have some flexibility with their time. Many have taken on the responsibility of sending the children to school or looking after infants while their wives are at the sit-in.

 

The women of Park Circus are determined. They give lie to the claims some politicians have been making about women being used as a “front” by community groups or opposition parties. “This is clearly a women’s movement now, and it will not stop,” they say. The pain and passion in their voices lends an intensity, a power, to their words that cannot be transcribed on paper.

 

(Kavita Panjabi is professor of comparative literature, Jadavpur University.)

 

In Lucknow, Women’s Anti-CAA Protest Gives the Adityanath Govt Jitters

Sharat Pradhan

 

Undeterred by Uttar Pradesh chief minister Adityanath’s loud threats to file cases against them and undaunted by the biting cold, thousands of women are braving it out here to make their voices heard against the CAA and NRC.

 

Far from losing steam, as the dharna entered its ninth day under the open skies at Lucknow’s historical Hussainabad Clock Tower, the number of the demonstrators appears to be increasing. Friday’s (Jan 24) gathering looked not less than a 8,000–10,000 strong. Significantly, they are neither under a political banner nor guided by any recognised social activist group.

 

Similar protests by ordinary women have been on in Varanasi, Allahabad, Aligarh, Sambhal and some other UP towns. And despite being charged with the “violation of Section 144” or for “instigation”, the protesters have not given up.

 

Sprawled over a roughly four-acre stone-paved platform in front of the 19th-century clock tower, these first-time demonstrators in Lucknow refused to get cowed down by Adityanath’s threat to charge them with sedition and imprison them.

 

“We are just staging a peaceful dharna in this corner of the city; what is most shocking is that simply because we raised this slogan of ‘azadi’, we are being accused of indulging in anti-national activity. How can someone equate our quest for azadi with that of separatists in Kashmir?” asked Sabiha Rizvi, a BCom final year student at a local elite college who defied her family to participate in the anti-CAA dharna. She was referring to the chief minister’s remark that if the demonstrators continued with their azadi slogan, they would be dealt with most severely.

 

Rizvi goes on to point out, “What we are seeking is freedom from CAA and NRC , besides azadi from unemployment and illiteracy as well as azadi from heinous crimes like rape and dowry deaths.”

 

Well-known former BBC journalist Ramdutt Tripathi feels, “This intimidation by the BJP government is a reflection of their aversion to the word ‘azadi’, because these right-wingers had nothing to do with India’s freedom movement; rather, some of them even joined hands with the British to oppose the freedom movement.” Tripathi compares this protest to what Mahatma Gandhi did way back in 1906 in South Africa, against a new law that prescribed compulsory registration of all Indians, Chinese, Arabs and other Asians.

 

Meanwhile, emboldened by the chief minister’s offensive attitude against the demonstrators, policemen went to the extent of snatching away blankets brought by volunteers to save the demonstrators from the extreme cold at night. The temperature usually drops very low because of the close proximity of the area to the Gomati river. Blanket snatching was stopped after stories of the “kambal chors” went viral on social media, leading Lucknow’s new police commissioner Sujit Pande to castigate his men in khakhi. But then, civic officials got down to switching off all the street lights in and around the area, thereby plunging it into darkness. They also locked public toilets in and around the area, but were compelled to open them after loud public outcry.

 

“The government’s oppressive actions have failed to deter these protesting women,” observed former Lucknow University vice-chancellor Roop Rekha Verma, who is a regular at the dharna site.  76-year-old Verma, who is widely known for her activism, spends some time every day encouraging the younger lot, whose passion to fight for their rights is incredible. 

 

The UP government had been extremely harsh on anti-CAA protestors when they undertook their first demonstrations last month. Not only were thousands of protestors arrested and put in jails in different parts of the state, but about 17 protestors were killed in police firing. Yet, many of those who suffered were seen joining the dharna at the Clock Tower. These include activists like Deepak Kabir and Sadaf Jafar, who faced police violence and brutality, besides spending weeks in jail. Jafar’s crime was that she had dared to ask the cops why they were not arresting stone-pelting mobs, while Kabir was put in prison because he went looking for Jafar at a local police station.

 

That some policemen were trying to be more loyal than the king became glaringly obvious when they hauled up boys flying black kites and beat up others playing with black balloons. There was utter disregard for the fact that displaying black flags or sporting black bands is the most passive form of protest in a democracy.

 

While everyone wonders whether we are heading towards a police state, popular public support to the peaceful demonstration is becoming increasingly visible. Citizens are busy offering food, water, blankets and other essentials for the protestors. Some battery-operated lights have also been donated for the safety of demonstrators at night.

 

It would not be unfair to assume that the dharna has turned into a mass people’s movement in Lucknow—something that must be making Adityanath and his government very uncomfortable.

 

(Sharat Pradhan is a senior journalist in Lucknow.)