While the women’s movement in India has been engaged in bringing newer legislations for protecting the rights of women and children, the constant refrain from campaigners has been that these innovative provisions have failed to deliver.
Conversely, there is reluctance to engage with legal processes as it is cumbersome, time consuming and frustrating. Majlis is one of the few organisations in the country which have taken on this challenge for the last 25 years.
Majlis’ birth, in 1991, as a legal and cultural resource centre, was almost accidental. Madhusree Dutta, then a theater director, was beaten by police late at night, while buying cigarettes from a stall on the platform of Borivali station. We needed funds to fight the case and that is when the idea of registering an NGO dawned on us. Majlis’ unusual combination of law and culture was due to our mutual commitment to each other since our interest lay in these two diverse spheres.
I was well past 40 years and had recently acquired a law degree. So when the railway police tore up the complaint I had taken to them the next morning, it posed a new challenge to my aspiration of becoming a feminist lawyer. We mounted a media campaign with the support of other feminists and ensured that a dozen feminists were present in court on any given date to checkmate the 100-odd male lawyers who would assemble to watch Madhusree and me facing humiliating cross-examination. The defence lawyers were bent on portraying her as a woman of “loose morals” and that she had suffered injuries when she tripped as she was drunk and unstable on her feet. The case, where I was the complainant, not only provided valuable exposure to the working of a criminal court but gave us an opportunity to counter many stereotypes about women and women’s right to be out in public places at night.
Though my friend was embarrassed of the victim tag this case had bestowed upon her and moved away from the arena of feminist activism to creating a forum for innovative art practices, I stayed with the case and, after following it up for over 12 years, from one court to another, finally secured a conviction. This was a major victory for the litigation unit of Majlis.
This case set the context for the work we are currently engaged in, of providing support to survivors of sexual violence which involves working closely with the state machinery — investigation officers, public prosecutors and the judiciary. The Bombay riots brought a new edge to our work with concerns about secularism.
To counter biases against the Muslim community, we produced I Live in Behrampada, as a campaign film from the first meagre grant we had secured for the legal centre. This film became iconic and launched my friend Madhusree as a filmmaker as it received the prestigious Filmfare award for best documentary in 1993.
As the demand for Uniform Civil Code, allegedly to secure the rights of minority women, acquired a shrill communal hue and was used as a stick to beat the Muslim minority with, we re-examined it thoroughly. Subsequently, after the Gujarat riots of 2002, many progressive groups engaged with human rights and some women’s groups changed their earlier position on UCC and this has made enacting a UCC a remote possibility, even for the right-wing government in power.
These two diverse and yet connected legal strands set a complex framework for the working of Majlis’ legal centre, which has woven together activism, public campaigns and academic research into an integrated whole with litigation forming its backbone. Since there were no role models to follow, we set out into the unchartered terrain, working with the courts, communities and stakeholders to secure the rights of women, with special focus on the rights of minority women.
Demands for spreading legal awareness in rural areas led us to start a women district lawyers fellowship programme. Awarding around 10-15 fellowships each year from 2003, we were able to create a network of around 100 women lawyers who could not only litigate for women’s rights but also conduct workshops to demystify laws and rights for rural, tribal and marginalised women. When funds dried up in 2009, the programme was wound up, but the feminist ideology and practical legal skills that we imparted have stayed on, not only with these young lawyers but all those who passed through Majlis in the intervening years, from young interns to junior lawyers.
When our favourite programme had to be wound up, there was shift in our engagement. We decided to work closely with all stakeholders and help them do their assigned tasks better. Closely monitoring the work of police and judiciary was essential to ensure that the lapses could be brought to the notice of the higher authorities.
On the eve of celebrations marking Majlis’ 25 years, Madhusree Dutta, my friend and partner in Majlis, sent a letter explaining her resignation and making accusations that working with authorities amounts to a compromise.
Till 2010, we were following up individual cases to secure relief within existing laws. But we realised that despite our best efforts, this was just a drop in the ocean.
Our insights and expertise would have multiplier effect if we could train the police, protection officers and lower judiciary on existing legal provisions, particularly the newer enactments, the Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act (DVA) and the Protection of Children from Sexual Offences Act (POCSO). Engagement cannot stop at the level of imparting training. To have impact, it must move on to monitoring and bringing to the notice of higher authorities the lapses in order to plug loopholes. Making the state work is not easy. It is a rigorous and frustrating task, but we have persisted in the belief that this alone can bring lasting changes within the system to make it accessible to women and children from marginalised sections. The writer is a women’s rights lawyer and co-founder of Majlis
