Abstract
This commentary describes a case from India that illuminates challenges associated with contentious political engagement among activists on social media. It specifically highlights what is posited as a disjuncture between two distinct modes of interpretation of political legitimacy in the domain of gender justice activism, and analyses how the delegitimisation of activists’ legacy can polarise political engagement on social media. It highlights how an absence of ethical engagement can lead to a distortion of activists’ legacies of actual participation in civil and political society, and asks how this distortion may inflect public conception of the ethics of social media-driven activism. It builds on work analysing the emancipatory potential (and pitfalls) of political engagement on social media.
Introduction
The #MeToo media campaign has had a profound impact globally, spurring extensive media coverage of gender justice activism, in the United States of America, where it started, and around the world (Fileborn and Loney-Howes, 2019). It galvanised support for activism against sexual harassment and violence in a diverse range of countries (Mendes and Ringrose, 2019; Pegu, 2019; Zeng, 2020). In India, the #MeToo movement spurred a range of public conversations about the continuing socialisation of gender discrimination, the prevalence of sexual violence, and the need for continued mobilisation of efforts aimed at securing justice for victims of violence and harassment (Pegu, 2019). In many ways, the emergence of this historic moment consolidated a move towards greater recognition of the emancipatory power of social media-driven activism (Askanius and Uldam, 2011; Fileborn and Loney-Howes, 2019; Jenkins et al., 2018). However, as scholars have acknowledged, social media visibility can increase activists’ vulnerability to surveillance and manipulation (Uldam, 2018); and the proliferation of contentious political engagement mediated by ‘interpretive communities’ (Rauch, 2007) of activists on social media can engender social and political dissensus.
Peter Dahlgren defines civic culture as the composite of ‘those features of the socio-cultural world – dispositions, practices, processes – that constitute the pre-conditions for people’s actual participation in the public sphere, in civil and political society’ (Dahlgren, 2009: 103). The civic culture that social media produces, and the political engagement that this culture enables, has evolved rapidly over recent years and continues to evolve. One key observation that scholars examining political engagement on social media have shared is that, among activists but also in the community more widely, increasing personalisation of political engagement, and a concomitant polarisation of political debate, has led to increased complexity in people’s actual participation in civil and political society (Dumitrica and Bakardjieva, 2018; Garrett, 2009; Nikunen, 2018; Postill, 2018; Sunstein, 2018). The symbolic construction of social media participation in political debate as an emancipatory process (Dumitrica and Bakardjieva, 2018) is belied by, for example, the emergence of populism and populist reformulation of political discourse (Postill, 2018). Activity characterised as social media-driven activism is shaped by particular modes of consumption and interpretation of political news, and particular modes of often exclusionary interaction (Rauch, 2007; Yang et al., 2016). Activists can act as ‘interpretive communities’ that define and delimit the legitimacy of particular points of view (Rauch, 2007). This commentary describes a specific case from India that illuminates challenges associated with contentious political engagement among activists on social media. It specifically highlights what is posited as a disjuncture between two distinct modes of interpretation of political legitimacy in the domain of gender justice activism, and analyses how the delegitimisation of activists’ legacy can polarise political engagement on social media. It highlights how an absence of ‘ethical engagement with the Other’ (Dumitrica and Bakardjieva, 2018) can lead to a distortion of activists’ legacies of actual participation in civil and political society (Greijdanus et al., 2020), and asks how this distortion may inflect public conception of the ethics of social media-driven activism. It builds on work analysing the emancipatory potential (and pitfalls) of political engagement on social media in India (Chadha and Harlow, 2015).
Case study: dismissal of activists’ legacy in responses to critiques of social media-driven activism
This case relates to a debate between a group of students and feminist academics in India in 2017. Inspired by the American ‘Shitty Media Men’ crowdsourcing effort, where, in the wake of the #MeToo movement in the United States, a journalist created an open-access spreadsheet containing allegations of sexual harassment against male journalists and media personalities, and opened it up to contributions from anonymous sources (Grady, 2018), Raya Sarkar, a student at an Indian university, announced that she had created an open-access spreadsheet where students at Indian universities could name professors who had sexually harassed them and list the allegations against them anonymously (Shankar, 2017). Sarkar’s list attracted widespread attention on social media as well as considerable mainstream media coverage, some of it ostensibly spurred by right-wing schadenfreude over the inclusion of notable left-liberal academics in the list (Mehta, 2017).
In response to Sarkar’s publication of the crowdsourced list of allegations on Facebook, a statement, from a number of feminist academics/activists with long histories of involvement in women’s rights movements, critical of the online list (and the social media commentary surrounding it) was published on Kafila, a blog administered by a group of liberal Indian scholars and activists (including one of the signatories of this statement) (Menon, 2017a). The statement contained criticism of the strategy of publishing anonymously-sourced allegations online, and, particularly, emphasised the importance of not contravening institutionally-supported and judicially-recognised processes for dealing with complaints about sexual harassment.
Responses to the statement on Kafila included criticisms of the signatories’ rhetorical invocation of their legacy as feminists (the fact that the signatories referred to their legacies of involvement in feminist activism and scholarship), including, importantly, the criticism that this amounted to a form of delegitimisation of Sarkar’s and her supporters’ activism on social media (see, for example, Anonymous, 2017; Das, 2017; Shankar, 2017). To critically analyse this aspect of the debate, it be may be worth asking what the invocation of legacy and legitimacy might mean in the context of debates (across mainstream and social media) on social activism. Do arguments and claims that are premised on (or invoke) the author or interlocutor’s legacy (of academic work and/or social activism) work as a constraint on dialogue and engagement? Are they intended as a disempowering strategy? Does the invocation of legacy serve to defang and delegitimise interlocutors’ critique? These questions can have important ramifications for mediatised debate on how social and political issues may be addressed at, for example, public institutions (Linder, 2001).
It is worth noting at the outset that the first Kafila statement, as well as subsequent articles by prominent feminists Menon (2017b) and Krishnan (2017) (two of the signatories of the statement), do indeed include comments about and references to the signatories’ (and other commentators’) legacies as feminist academics and/or activists. As Menon (2017b) and Krishnan (2017) argued in subsequent articles, the intent of the statement – which critiqued Sarkar’s method of bypassing ‘due process’ and assuming informal authority within a self-determined investigative triaging process – was to reinforce the importance of due process by highlighting feminist investments in the establishment of judicial and institutional processes for dealing cases of sexual harassment, and the legacies of the movements that paved the way for institutional recognition of the rights of victims of harassment. Thus, the statement reaffirmed the importance of abiding by due process and strengthening institutional accountability mechanisms by invoking the legacy of feminist investments in these same mechanisms and institutionalised processes. Here, legacy serves multiple important functions. It signals the histories of the well-documented social, cultural and intellectual efforts that laid the groundwork for legal and institutional recognition of sexual harassment as an offence and the safeguarding of victims’ rights through institutional mechanisms; it reaffirms complainants’ rights; and it serves as a reminder of the precariousness of the individual-driven ‘disruptive’ rejection of due process (and, importantly, the implications of this rejection for complainants’ rights) (see Sunder, 1996; Zippel, 2006).
Given that the invocation of legacy was perceived as a ‘silencing’ or delegitimising strategy by Sarkar and others (see Menon, 2017b; Shankar, 2017), it is worth asking whether the issue of legacy was extraneous to the stated purpose of the argument at hand, which was to reaffirm the importance of due process in light of the publication of Sarkar’s list. Given the thrust of both the statement on Kafila and Menon’s subsequent commentary, the issue of legacy cannot be deemed extraneous or tangential. If feminist movements and scholarship have invested in the establishment of institutional redressal mechanisms, then the legacy of those movements and scholarship cannot (to use one particular term that emerged in criticisms of the Kafila critics) simply be declared ‘redundant’ (Sarkar in Menon, 2017b). The characterisation of the invocation of legacy as a silencing tactic, therefore, may be reasonably disputed. As both Menon (2017b) and Krishnan (2017) point out in their articles, if failed engagement with institutional processes for dealing with complaints about sexual harassment was a crucial factor in commenters’ social media-driven activism, then mention of involvement in or experience of those processes (considered as ‘legacy’) cannot be deemed extraneous to the debate, or characterised as a delegitimising or silencing tactic.
Conversely, it may be argued that the reactions to (and the social media commentary around) the statement – the characterisation of the signatories as out-of-touch ‘savarna’ (or high-caste) ‘Kafila feminists’ (Menon, 2017b), as well as the use of expletive-ridden ad hominem attacks – precipitated a type of contentiousness that obviated and compromised critical engagement, leading, in Menon’s words, to the ‘annihilation of mutual trust’ (Menon, 2017b). The pertinent comments not only evinced disagreement with the content of the statement but also arguably demonstrated (ironically) the emergence of a delegitimising and silencing approach towards the signatories. From one perspective, the rhetorical foregrounding of the Kafila interlocutors’ supposed instantiation of caste privilege in this debate (Sarkar stated that she was a Dalit woman [Dalits constitute the so-called ‘untouchable’ caste in the Hindu caste system], and, assuming that the signatories were high-caste Hindus, described them as ‘savarna [high-caste] feminists’ in her online comments) arguably served to delegitimise the emerging critique of Sarkar’s actions. This invocation and juxtaposition of Sarkar’s claimed caste status with the supposed or attributed caste status of her interlocutors arguably shifted the underlying discoursal power dynamics by focalising speakers’ perceived identity-derived power (or lack thereof) rather than the substance of their arguments. Menon’s negotiation of the heightened sensitivity that attends recognition of the complex power dynamics that are inextricably imbricated with this discoursal strategy, as well as the precariousness of any critique of this strategy, demonstrates the difficulty of engagement in circumstances where identity-based claims have delimited the debate (see Macagno, 2013; Menon, 2017b; Walton, 2006).
The overt antagonism that emerged between the two ‘opposing’ camps could be read as a manifestation of the polarisation of political discourse on social media (Yang et al., 2016; see also Conover et al., 2011). While a lot of the commentary on polarisation of political discourse in the media has emerged from the United States (see Allcott and Gentzkow, 2017; Sunstein, 2018), factors such as the global influence of American media cultures (see Hepp, 2008) signal the relevance of the idea of polarisation as a key concept in this case from India. Polarisation encapsulates not only the trend of the dichotomisation of opinion but also the division of people engaged in debate into ‘in’ and ‘out’ groups, sometimes on the basis of identity categories and personal attributes (see Myers and Smith, 2012).
The mocking use of ageist labels such as ‘mothers-in-law’ or ‘aunty feminists’ in social media commenters’ responses to the Kafila critics – a few instances of which Menon (2017b) highlights in her essay – derives from notions and assumptions about age as a marker of legitimacy in social media-driven activism, serving, in this instance, to specifically delegitimise the commentary of those who were described as acting in opposition to Sarkar and others. As Menon (2017b) points out, these notions were based on fallacious assumptions about the unanimity of opinion (and, supposedly, political approach) among so-called ‘young feminists’ on the one hand and ‘older feminists’ on the other. Support for (or criticism of) Sarkar’s actions did not neatly follow the putative logic of the age-based differentiation (between ‘young’ and ‘old’ feminists) that was assumed by some commenters. Even so, assumptions about age as a determinant of one’s ‘position’ and locus standi, and abusive ageist language, featured prominently in rhetoric about the ‘Kafila feminists’. The use of ageist rhetoric (and age-based dichotomies) to promote polarisation, and as an exclusionary tactic, could be seen in many published comments. Many commenters lambasted the ‘older feminists’ for their supposed complicity in oppressive cultures on university campuses and declared their leadership ‘redundant’: Kavita Krishnan, Nivedita Menon, Ayesha Kidwai, Vrinda Grover, whoeverthef**kelseisonthatlist, we CHOSE Rayas leadership because y’all are part and parcel of what is wrong with the system. Y’all are implicit in the existing brahmanism of these spaces, so please step the f**k out. BACK OFF. Don’t you get it? The fact that so many individuals came out and chose to respond to Raya is because all your ‘hey I did this I did that’ is ZILCH. You did nothing. Your leadership is redundant. A new leadership has emerged. Is the fact that it’s a Dalit woman leader unsettling for you? We’ll remove you from this space and Raya will lead. No matter whatever the f**k you do. #unblockRayaSarkar (Rai in Menon, 2017b)
The use of exclusionary rhetoric here points to the challenges involved in critical engagement, even among liberal activists, on social media around how contentious social and political issues at Indian public institutions may be addressed. Using social media to bolster activism does not necessarily preclude the possibility of nuanced engagement; however, the barriers to nuanced political engagement are numerous and well-known (see Bennett, 2012). Menon (2017b) and Krishnan (2017) point to these challenges when they describe, at some length, how their approach to due process, specifically in their original interjection (suggesting a reconsideration of the strategy of ‘naming and sharing’ alleged harassers on social media), was immediately mischaracterised as ‘rape apologia’ (Sarkar in Menon, 2017b). Some commenters, assuming a prerogative to determine the legitimacy of others’ contributions, vitiated the debate by questioning whether authorial legacy was a valid consideration (and declaring such legacy ‘redundant’) (Menon, 2017b). Menon’s and Krishnan’s essays, which elaborately elucidated their positions, also grappled, at some length, with the vitriolic personal attacks that were directed at them.
This case exemplifies how politically contentious and polarised social media debate among activists can include elements such as obfuscation of the relevance of authorial legacy, which can vitiate political engagement and prevent constructive dialogue, particularly among activists. Decontextualised debate – debate that does not allow for a recognition of the context of authors’ or participants’ contributions and the relevance of their legacies as stakeholders in a particular field, as well as their ‘motivations’ – prevents meaningful exchange that may be conducive to constructive action. Politically polarised debates on social media often occur in an environment of mistrust of those constructed as the political ‘other’ (Yang et al., 2016). Perceived differences can become magnified and individuals may be maligned for their views (often through the imputation of malign motives). This case exemplifies a particular vein of contemporary social media engagement on politically contentious issues that may be characterised as polarising and hostile to conciliatory dialogue and respectful recognition of individuals’ histories of meaningful engagement in particular areas of activism, such as gender justice activism; and one of the ways in which this type of polarisation is effected is through the dismissal of individuals’ ‘right’ to critique the actions and views of others (Iyengar, et al., 2012). Replete with rhetorical attacks on the relevance of individuals’ legacies and comments effectively questioning the right of individuals to hold and express opposing views, these instances of engagement, it may be argued, reflect an ahistorical and naïve understanding of political activism (Greijdanus et al., 2020). Moreover, the platforms on which such political discourse proliferates facilitate the accretion of particular types of ‘public sphericules’ (Gitlin, 2002) that demonstrate majoritarian tendencies (Postill, 2018). These tendencies are not conducive to reasoned debate (Sunstein, 2018).
The social, cultural and political ramifications of the emergence and proliferation of polarised (and polarising) ‘echo chambers’ (Garrett, 2009), ‘mediated’ by social media, cannot be fully grasped, though some of these ramifications and effects have been analysed well in works of scholarship (Sunstein, 2018). Contentious democratic politics in India have always demonstrated polarising tendencies, and media coverage of (and commentary on) political news has, in many instances, demonstrated partisan tendencies (Ravindran, 2017). Nevertheless, new media discourses and interactions where partisan tendencies lead to (and underpin) attacks on the legitimacy of activists’ and commentators’ authentic contributions and the dismissal of their right to engage in debate on subjects on which they have amassed knowledge and expertise reflect new challenges in how civic culture is produced (and distorted) in the online public sphere. Ethical frameworks highlighting normative standards for public discourse on political contentious issues, and recognising the importance of civic engagement on politically contentious topics, may help support more constructive social media debate, particularly among activists. In their paper on political news, social media engagement and civic culture in Canada, Delia Dumitrica and Maria Bakardjieva write, ‘This discursive articulation of technologically mediated engagement remains profoundly ambiguous: while it encourages citizens to imagine themselves as active political actors, it also casts engagement as a deeply personal gesture that does not require an (ethical) engagement with the Other’ (Dumitrica and Bakardjieva, 2018: 819). It is worth asking how this absence of ethical engagement with the ‘other’ can be counteracted during a time of increasing personalisation of political engagement and political polarisation on social media, among activists and others.
Young activists – including those who belong to party-political, issue-based, identity-based or social organisations – find themselves immersed in social media-driven activism, expressing a ‘personalised, self-actualising preference for online, discursive forms of political engagement and organising’ (Vromen et al., 2015). Social media use by activists for campaign mobilisation, information dissemination and political engagement has evolved rapidly (Obar et al., 2012), so much so that there has been insufficient consideration of how issues around the ethics of engagement may best be addressed in this continually shifting environment. There is a need to consider how new generations of activists, whose preferences for personalised discourse (with all its attendant challenges in relation to engagement with the ‘other’) are becoming clearer, can be presented with an adequate conceptualisation of how ‘ideas of distance [and] moral responsibility, and an understanding of ethics and care at-a-distance’ (Jackson and Valentine, 2014) can inform a more nuanced approach to participation in politically contentious debate. The practical notion of active ‘listening’ can be reconfigured for inclusion in normative discourses about social media-driven activism (Crawford, 2009). By actively focalising concerns about reflexive political polarisation and discourse manipulation, a move towards more ethical forms of political engagement can be contemplated. Furthermore, by highlighting the emergence of particular discoursal trends in social media-driven activism, more considered approaches to conceptualising normative ethical frameworks for new media can be developed (Ward and Wasserman, 2010).
