A caste crime, with casteist punishment

The media and people's attention present a picture of sharp contrast between Disha's case and the others.

Update: 2020-01-04 21:11 GMT
The court said that the Nirbhaya case is not an isolated case where it has taken so long to reach finality as it noted that it has been one of the cases where agencies had acted swiftly taking into account the public outrage.

Turn in any direction you like, caste is the monster that crosses your path,” said Dr B.R. Ambedkar. This was the experience of everyone who ever faced caste discrimination, tried and tested for decades. Sadly, inspite of upward mobility aided by modern technology and awareness, we are discovering new forms of discrimination instead of annihilating caste. In reality, we are consolidating caste.

Caste in India is like rape culture. A sick manifestation of the mind, it divides people. And whatever divides people is anti-social, unethical in letter, spirit, and practice; in other words a crime.  We presume that caste is the business of only oppressed castes. A few castes have always cornered all the privileges and called it merit. Their self-assigned purity, we are told, is knowledge. We were all made to believe this story. 

In today’s context, caste in India is the only reality. You cannot separate caste from any aspect of life — crime, welfare measures, casting vote, employment, educational facilities, judiciary, or journalism. It is incipient and pervasive in its impact.

Marginalised, untouchable castes often live in fear of crime. The vulnerability varies with various social, physical, economic, cultural locations of caste. Rulers, who mostly belong to dominant castes, have committed crimes from time immemorial by keeping the oppressed castes in slavery, confining them to dehumanised jobs like manual scavenging and to the most hazardous, unpaid jobs by depriving them access to education, health and better employment. This is nothing but a civilisational crime against millions, where victims and perpetrators both normalise caste crimes for different reasons. People are reduced to counting gruesome incidents than actually resisting crime, or adopting forms of struggle to protect themselves. The severity is seen as confined to a few castes.

From Unnao to Disha of Telangana, rape and killings dominated the news recently. When Disha, a young veterinarian, was raped and murdered on November 27, 2019, suddenly everyone appeared enlightened about the severity of the problem. In India after Nirbhaya, in fact post-Nirbhaya, not only have rapes and brutal murders increased but the culprits video-record them and spread them on the social media. Is this the repercussion of the Nirbhaya Act?

Until December 16, we all witnessed candlelight rallies, dharnas and discussions on television channels, following the “encounter” of all the four accused in the Disha case by the Hyderabad Police. On the same night of November 27 when Disha went missing, Manasa Yadav was found dead in Shayampet on the outskirts of Warangal urban area at 9.30 pm. Perhaps, the 19-year-old’s death could not fit the media’s bill. It was reported flippantly, with the news saying that it was her birthday, that she went out with her boyfriend, and bled heavily to death. Our fact-finding visit indicated that her boyfriend changed her clothes and left her in a remote place.

Three days prior, on November 24, at Kumarambhim Asifabad district, Ellapatar village, Samata (Teku Laxmi), a 30-year-old woman was gang-raped and brutally murdered. Her body was found with wounds all over. Family members found her in the bushes near the village. Samata belonged to Budagajangam family, a sub-caste under the Scheduled Castes category. Her profession was selling combs, pins, and utensils. Initially, Laxmi’s real name was used in the media, unlike Disha’s who had still gained much publicity as a Reddy. When Dalit organisations and activists questioned it, Laxmi’s name was changed to Samata. Surprisingly, her brutal rape and murder did not attract media attention. Only Dalit organisations, a few concerned people, and activists went to her place. It was Krishna Madiga, leader of the Madiga Reservation Porata Samithi, who took up the issue. His voice of protest reached officials, and only then things began to move fast. Some compensation was announced; a job for her husband and good education for their two kids were assured.

The media and people’s attention present a picture of sharp contrast between Disha’s case and the others. The response was absolutely casteist.

Even during the coverage of the Nirbhaya case, such rapes and murders had occurred raising serious questions about differential responses. As a result of public backlash that held the government responsible for the crime, all the four accused in Disha’s case were killed in an “encounter” at 3.30 early morning on December 6. We all know that encounters in India are another name for cold-blooded murders. Though police claimed that they killed them to save their own lives, a few political representatives publicly said that it is the decision of their government. 

If we do a caste-based analysis of the history of encounters, arrests, and punishments given for rapes and killings, and people who are in jails, we will find that the oppressed castes, adivasis and minorities will be over-represented. Judicially or extra-judicially, they are the people who will be punished. As for rape-murders, with a few exceptions, the targets are poor and marginalised women.

Whether it is Madhu, a tribal boy who was hacked to death for stealing rice in Kerala, or Satyam Babu, a dalit man who was kept in prison for years despite being innocent in the Ayesha Meera case, it is men from marginalised sections who are punished unfairly, disproportionately. The families of the four boys killed in the December 6 “encounter” were poor, with hardly any education. They were from Mahbubnagar, a drought-prone area. Except one, Ali, the principal accused, the rest were aged less than 20 years and belonged to backward class communities. Based on preliminary reports and without any serious investigation, we were assured that they were actual criminals. Even if they are, should we take the law in our hands? If the accused belonged to dominant castes or financially powerful families, what would have been the reaction of the public and police towards them? Would they be still arrested and killed in this way? Is this question so hard to answer?

Caste is a double-edged knife. Crime is committed against you because of your caste/social background. At the same time, summary, arbitrary punishments are served to you on the same ground. Do others face a similar fate? They may, but those are exceptions to the rule.

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