Abstract
This original and important collection of essays on men and feminism in India, by women and men from India, reveals and showcases a rich and diverse array of opinion on research, pedagogy and activism on this frequently controversial and contested topic. The 14 contributors hail from a wide range of disciplinary backgrounds including law and jurisprudence, sociology, political science, philosophy and religion, as well as from women’s, gender and sexuality studies. And each writer has a different tale to tell, often inflected with their personal encounters in different Indian academic institutions over time.
The book draws from a conference organised by the editors, Romit Chowdhury and Zaid Al Baset in 2014 at the Centre for Studies in Social Sciences in Kolkata (CSSSC). Here were two male friends who shared a commitment to feminism but were troubled by the sometimes difficult relationship of men’s engagements with women’s feminist endeavours, and sought to explore what they regarded some of the palpable fault-lines (suspicion, surprise, receptivity) in the alliances forged by Indian male pro-feminists among a wider community of thinkers. That both editors were doctoral students at the time and were able to garner interest and support from some extremely eminent scholars, testifies not only to their ingenuity and connections, but also to the intrinsic importance of their enquiry. While the volume maintains a consistent, dedicated and critical focus on the Indian context, there are striking parallels and synergies with broader international debates on the role men play in feminist struggles.
Many of the key concerns about men’s engagement with feminism in India – and beyond – are flagged up in Chowdhury’s and Al Baset’s brief but incisive editorial introduction which makes plain from the outset the discernible duality that ‘The male feminist is either an accomplished ally or simply a wolf in sheep’s clothing’ (p. 2). In their discussion they relay a very important question articulated by one of their chapter contributors, Sanjay Srivastava, namely ‘Can men as social beings take part in a “conversation” that seeks to dismantle their social selves?’ This question resonates strongly with concerns raised, inter alia, in the field of men in GAD (Gender and Development) (see Chant and Gutmann, 2000; Cornwall and White, 2000; Cornwall et al., 2011; Edström, 2014), and is not only pertinent theoretically, but also personally and practically, since as Chowdhury and Al Baset poignantly emphasise: ‘The minority of men who have been involved in feminist research and pedagogy . . . have had to negotiate stigma, uncertain career prospects, and even open hostility from men and women in the university’ (p. 6). One of main reasons for the latter is the possibility that working with men and boys may detract from gender equality goals, not to mention siphon scarce resources for women (p. 16; see also Chant and Gutmann, 2000).
These concerns, and many more, are echoed in the book’s three main sections: ‘Institutions’, ‘Movements’ and ‘Writings’ which provide an arguably rather loose organisational canopy for its 12 substantive chapters. In Part 1, offerings range from Pushpesh Kumar’s discussion of age- and gender-sensitive strategies to engage with women as well as men at the grassroots, to Al Baset’s and Chowdhury’s survey-based case study of feminist work done by men in the ‘everyday spaces of the university’ (p. 71), to sociologist Sanjay Srivastava’s more generic review of masculinity studies and feminism, which, inter alia, places emphasis on the tenuous and fragile nature of performed/enacted masculinity. In the final chapter in this section, legal expert, Oishik Sircar, reflects on his initial and ongoing recognition of fundamental gender biases in Indian law, and stresses the importance of men’s commitment to feminism in their homes as well as in the workplace.
While all four chapters in the first section are written by men, Part 2 starts with a chapter by female Malayali historian, J Devika, in which alongside discussion of men’s presence in feminism in the state in the 1980s and 1990s, she broaches the issue of moralistic patriarchal backlash, which is by no means confined to India (see Bradshaw et al., 2019; Kandiyoti, 2013). In the chapter by Srimati Basu, Professor of Gender and Women’s Studies at the University of Kentucky, we get one of the fullest discussions in the volume of intersectionality which makes due reference to the pathbreaking work of Kimberlé Crenshaw. Ashley Tellis’s succeeding discussion takes us down the route of men in feminism, masculinity and LGBT, in which, inter alia, he explores the often fraught relationships between feminism and lesbianism, and transgender politics.
One of the key highlights in Part 3 is the chapter by the female historian, Charu Gupta, which addresses intersectionality and representation in relation to caste in North India. Also worth singling out is the book’s Afterword by Anupama Rao which reflects on the ‘awkward’ relationship between men and feminism raised by the editors and contributors, and concludes with her professed desire that their essays ‘provide inspiration for arguing that feminism is nothing if it is not an ethical response to the human condition’ (p. 256).
On that inspirational and aspirational note, I have no hesitation in recommending Men and Feminism in India as essential reading on courses on gender at a juncture when calls for decolonising the academic curricula have attracted widespread and long overdue support among university students, teachers and researchers alike.