By Antara Dev Sen (Asian Age)
I am most disappointed that the histrionics over the Women’s Reservation Bill in Parliament was limited to the cowboys of the cowbelt. The Yadavs seem to be the most vocal opponents of the bill. Not a single Southern MP has offered to self-immolate. Only Sharad Yadav has threatened to drink poison, a la Socrates. (Curiously, this did not spark a stampede of honourable members offering him their best venom.) The charming Lalu Prasad Yadav declared that this bill was a conspiracy to finish off regional parties and prevent the empowerment of the backward. And dear old Mulayam Singh Yadav was blunt. You won’t get back in here, he warned the male MPs cheering the bill: “For all the table-thumping now, soon you will be thumping your charpoys at home!” His trusted deputy Amar Singh added later: “The careers of many established leaders will be destroyed as their seats are lost due to women’s reservation”. The talk of quotas within quotas was eyewash, the bill’s opponents were driven by the fear of exclusion. And this for just ensuring that one-third of MPs are women. What would the poor dears do if women were actually given half the sky — and Parliament?
The touching insecurity of male MPs is not without reason. Socrates believed, as Mr Sharad Yadav will confirm: “Once made equal to man, woman becomes his superior”. We see it around us — given equal opportunity, education and support, women generally do better than men, starting right from school. Take the most recent examination results. The two CBSE toppers were girls, as were the three IAS toppers. And since 1984, the percentage of women candidates winning seats in Parliament has been consistently much higher than men. Reportedly, the average winnability of women candidates in the last five Lok Sabha elections is 12.5 per cent, as opposed to 8.3 per cent for men.
Denying women a fair chance is essential to keep the patriarchal power structure alive. So Indian women are usually not allowed to study much. About half are married off before turning 18. They are kept out of decision-making, and even what they earn is usually spent by their husbands or fathers. Empowering women politically is one decisive way to change our deeply sexist society. Women MPs have for years cut across party lines to come together in support of the Women’s Reservation Bill. This time, with the commitment of President Pratibha Patil and the Congress, the unambiguous support of the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) and the Left, it seems likely to be passed.
So why am I not delighted at the prospect? First, because I was never a fan of the bill. In 1996, when it was first tabled, it seemed like a personal insult. Plant women in the highest decision-making office in the country? There was a difference between panchayats and Parliament, for heaven’s sake. Would we be reserving ministries next? Clear the way, remove the obstacles, watch women glide in on their own steam. We don’t need no reservation, we don’t need no seat control.
As the bill aged, I mellowed. And bowed to the passion of senior MPs like the late Geeta Mukherjee. There was an urgent need to increase women’s participation in the political process and to rectify the shameful imbalance of political power. If reservation is the only way our dear politicians can get more women into Parliament, so be it. Quotas can fast-track social justice, and with an abysmally low percentage of women MPs (we have finally reached 10 per cent this year, a record) it seemed fine to jump the queue. When the quota lapses 15 years later, may the best candidates win.
Now, 13 years of debates and dithering shows that the bill will not fast-track gender justice. We should have looked at other ways of politically empowering women. Instead, we are stuck in the rut of cliched tokenism that does nothing for women’s empowerment.
To make matters worse, this week it seems like the quota will be reduced from 33.3 per cent to 20 per cent. This is unacceptable. Once there is a quota, women will not get general seats and will remain stuck in the 20 per cent seats reserved for them, chosen arbitrarily by a draw of lots.
Asian Age for more