I often joke with my friends, that the most possessive men in our lives are not our fathers or partners, it is mostly our tailors. They do not let us wear anything more revealing than what they decide is appropriate for us, no matter what we instruct them to do. And of late, the whole nation, including the high court, has taken up the role of tailors for all the women of Bangladesh.
On May 18, a female private university student was “educated” and “punished” at Narshingdi railway station by a middle-aged woman for wearing “unconventional” and “obscene” clothes in the conservative social context of Bangladesh.
Marzia Akhter Shila, a self-appointed moral enforcer, went on to publicly assault the student, to the point where she began hitting her friends and her with other local residents. Law enforcement had to be informed and the alleged assaulter was taken into custody.
The incident was far from put to rest, though, rather, it was just the beginning of many smaller yet deeply significant events.
On August 16, the high court granted her bail and, to much of our surprise, the judges questioned the victim instead: “Why were you wearing obscene clothes at a railway station? The clothes you were in do not fit into our social context. What kind of practice of rights was it? Are women in civilized countries allowed to dress this way in public places?”
I wonder what made the judiciary pose such unbelievably irrelevant and unprofessional questions to a victim at the highest legal institution of a country; but if one answers those questions, women in developed and “civilized” countries are usually not “allowed” to dress that way, because the legal institutions in those countries do not believe they have the authority to decide what clothes women should put on in the first place.
And rest assured, no high court in a civilized country can ever come up with such vigorously disturbing questions for the victim to further her shock and harassment.
The Narshingdi incident has starkly unearthed a new group of young conservatives in Bangladesh. Fast-forward a few days, young students from different universities protested against the unjustified court verdict of this case, seeking social justice. Women came out of their university premises and donned whatever they wanted, with placards and posters in their hands.
Soon after the fierce protests, a group of students gathered at the base of Aparejyo Bangla to thank the high court for speaking out against “cultural terrorism.” Some of these posters grabbed my attention: "For some obscene women like you, innocent women are raped,” “Western culture will not be tolerated in our cultural context.”
From accusing women of other women’s rape, it escalated to an extent where some other groups of young conservatives from different institutions, both public and private, were on their feet with placards in their hand that said things like, ”your body, your choice, but you cannot irritate others with your obscenity,” “seducing people of the opposite sex with your nudity is equal to mental rape.”
All this time, instead of just getting vexed and frightened at the rapid radicalization of Bangladeshi youths, I kind of smirked at their logical fallacies. As a vastly hybrid cultural community, what is “our culture” to begin with? Had these angry young deviated men and women read a little bit of history -- how we Bengalis emerged, what our origin is, and how even amongst we Bengalis, the cultural identity is deeply divided by religion, history, and other defining factors -- they would not have ridiculed themselves this way.
Salwar kameez, which has been considered to be the women's dress code here for a few decades, is not ours. History indicates its origin to be in the Mughal empire. Even Bengali women’s pride, the sari, unfortunately, originated in the Indus Valley civilization, a northwestern part of South Asia. History suggests the origin of the burqa and hijab to be in Persia. Whichever article of clothing you name can be traced back to ancient times and a starkly different location on the map.
Therefore, who gets to define what “our culture” is? And more importantly, which culture? The religious one, the historical one, or the one our ancestors celebrated during their lifetime?
Holding women in Western clothes responsible for other women’s rape, again, is nothing but a patriarchal lullaby some naive women fall for. When they accuse women of “seducing” men with their “revealing” outfits, they unknowingly stamp all men as inherent rapists. They confuse natural sexual urge with a crime like rape.
Again, I cannot emphasize enough on the need for social, moral, and sex education. The newly emerged young moral police need to be educated so their morals are stronger than their moral policing tendencies.
Considering that the aforesaid youths are mostly naive and deviated, there is a driving force behind the curtain. Amidst all these tumults, let’s not forget to question who the powers are in the shadows, organizing these counter protests and poisoning the tender hearts with intolerance.
Why does an Indian girl, Muskaan, wearing a hijab have her right to a choice, while a Bangladeshi girl wearing a sleeveless top does not? What is this incoherent logic game?
There is surely a behind-the-scenes hero (perhaps a unified group) that is consolidating today’s youths, integrating them, instilling medieval perceptions in their heads, and watching the show from the background. Without the government’s intervention, doing anything in the larger scheme of things, is nearly impossible.
Bangladesh’s constitution, in article 39, ensures its people’s freedom of expression. In articles 17 and 19, the constitution promises to protect its people’s privacy and freedom of expression. Choosing one’s outfit definitely falls under one’s freedom of expression, and the high court is bound to be respectful to these rights.
Yet, today, we are navigating through times where our law enforcement is proudly violating these rights in trying to measure the length of civilians’ clothes.
Finally, it took years for one political leader to come out and speak up against such practices without acting diplomatic. Our national tailors took the road to thank the high court for shaming a victim of public assault. I want to thank our education minister, Dipu Moni, for taking a transparent and perspicuous stand without mincing her words in this far-fetched case.
Indeed, now is not the time for us to measure the length of women’s clothes; it is time for reaching greater heights. The sky's the limit for all.
Sharbani Datta works at Dhaka Tribune's Editorial and Op-Ed department.
