November 03, 2024
Array

Some Aspects of What Makes the RG Kar Struggle Unique

Brinda Karat

IN the collective experience of the fight for justice for victims of rape, the movement in Bengal on the RG Kar case is unique in several ways. The last time India witnessed a widespread public response against an atrocity which transcended the boundaries of political or organisational mobilisation was in the Nirbhaya case in 2012. More recently, the female wrestlers struggle in Delhi against serial institutional sexual harassment was an example of a struggle that gained support across India. The Bengal struggle is different. Its energy and the mass participation it draws even after two and a half months since the horrific incident, is remarkable and unique. It is a broad based mainly self-mobilised participation. By “broad” I mean in the social sense – that although on the face of it, the struggle is urban and middle class based as noted by some commentators, it has a resonance among people of all sections seen in its spread to rural areas. The participation of women and youth has been notable. It has been described as a “spontaneous” struggle. It may well be.

But the question is how and why? Jawhar Sirkar, the TMC MP who resigned, made a scathing indictment of the state government and ruling party and astutely assessed that the “spontaneous movement is as much for Abhaya (a name for the victim) as it is against the state  government.” He flagged corruption as a major issue, including in the health sector and the increasing “strong-arm tactics of a section of leaders.”

SEXUAL DIMENSION OF “STRONG ARM TACTICS”

There are important additional factors to what Sirkar wrote which help understand the sustained expression of public outrage. There is a strong sexual dimension to “corruption” and “strong arm tactics” which women of Bengal have experienced in the last decade. Corruption and “strong arm tactics” are directly linked to criminalisation. The patronage extended to criminals across Bengal by the TMC has led to increasing vulnerability of women especially young girls in public spaces. “Strong arm tactics” with sexual intent is a reality. The “strong arm” methods were initially used against the Left – to terrorise Left workers and supporters. Women of the Left were special targets. A then TMC MP had announced that his men would rape CPI(M) women. Once criminals are given a license and state protection to commit sexual atrocities against political opponents, it won’t stop there. The man arrested in the RG Kar case has a known record of violent abuse against his pregnant wife. Yet he was protected by the police as a “civic volunteer” and allowed full access to the hospital.

In the past, Bengal was known for a strong social conscience where ordinary folk would intervene to prevent sexual harassment against women in public spaces. Today, although the conscience remains, people are afraid to intervene because of the political patronage such goondas enjoy. In Bengal today instead of being supported, such necessary social interventions are more likely to be met with violence. Criminals flourish in such an environment.

Additionally, in case after case, women who have been sexually assaulted or their family members are coerced into accepting “agreements” brokered by the local TMC leaders. In many cases, the perpetrator himself has direct connections with the TMC. The blatant connivance of the police in providing impunity to the perpetrator, is a critical factor in increasing sexual harassment and assault crimes against women. In the Sandeshkhali horrors, women who had complained in the thana against the TMC criminals sexually harassing them, were told that no complaint would be registered without the permission of the TMC head of the criminal gang. The RG Kar case shows that the criminalisation of public spaces has now extended to working institutions run by the state government – this is a most disturbing feature for working women in particular. If this can happen in a public hospital, her working place – which space can be considered safe?

The huge participation of women in the current protests which is largely self-mobilised is part of the self-identification by women with Tilottama  (another name given to the victim) based on their own lived experience or that of someone they know. The feeling that I am her and she is me – what happened to her could well happen to me – is strong and a dominant feature in the struggle.

Thus the struggle for justice for Tilottama is also a struggle of every woman participant for herself – justice against increasing insecurity for women in Bengal.

Further, although the movement is not “party political” in that it is not linked to any political party, it is deeply political as it rests on the popular belief that the RG Kar case is not an individual aberration but a reflection of a deep malaise afflicting Bengal under the TMC. There is little doubt that the criminal and corrupt nexus led by ruling party leaders has been exposed. The struggle now demands accountability and punishment.

A FAMILY’S COURAGE

Another factor which has inspired the movement is the role of the family of the victim. The devastation for any parent who loses their beloved child, more so in the circumstances in which they lost their daughter is immeasurable. In this case, the role of the family of the victim has been a most crucial factor in the expansion of the struggle and the huge public response. From the beginning they have been steadfast in their one aim –justice for their daughter. Their dignity, their self-control, their ability to rise above the hostility and pettiness shown by the satraps of the ruling regime is quite inspirational. Recently, I had the opportunity to spend time with them when I went to their home to express my solidarity. I also met with Tilottama’s aunt who was present in the house at the time. Of course there have been many parents, mothers, who have shown tremendous courage in their fight for justice for their daughters, such as Nirbhaya’s mother Asha Devi. But the obstacles faced by Tilottama’s parents because of the direct involvement of the state government in the criminal nexus and its attempts to protect those guilty, is at a different level entirely.

From the very first minute when they were told by the hospital authorities about their daughter’s murder, to the present, they have faced state supported cruelty, designed to silence them. The mother had phoned her daughter on duty at the hospital at around 8 am, that morning, not once but twice. “I couldn’t get through” – she says, “I thought she was busy with her patients. “The call from the hospital came many hours after their daughter had been brutally raped and killed. Put yourself in the place of a mother and father who are told on the phone within the course of an hour               “come quickly – your daughter is ill. Then another phone call: your daughter is serious. Then a third; she is dead – she committed suicide”. After they reach the hospital, more than an hour’s drive away from their home, they are made to sit in a room for three hours, not allowed to see their daughter. They see crowds including policemen milling around. The distraught mother falls at the feet of a policeman begging to be able to see her daughter. She is denied permission. Much later, after she sees her beloved child, lifeless – she is taken away, separated from her husband. She is made to sit in a room separately from him. No communication was allowed between the two. Her family members meanwhile rush to the hospital. They are not allowed to meet the parents. What were the authorities scared of? Why should they deliberately separate grieving shocked helpless parents and their family members at a time when they needed each other the most?

Then the parents were made to sign papers for a post mortem. The mother wanted that the post mortem be done somewhere else. She expressed this to the police officers present. They brushed her aside and forced the parents to sign the papers. Following the post mortem the body was put in an ambulance. No family member was allowed to sit in the ambulance. Instead an uninvited TMC councillor of the area sat in the ambulance and started giving directions to the driver.

The parents begged the authorities to allow a second post mortem at another hospital. They were refused. Imagine the courage of the girl’s parents – even at that time, they found the strength to go to the local thana to request that their daughter should not be cremated till another post mortem was done. The thana in charge refused. Defeated the parents went home to find their daughter’s ambulance was already parked outside their locked home.

There was a large police contingent. No one was allowed near the house. Meanwhile the other family members somehow got through the police cordon and reached the home. To their horror they found they were not being given any time to mourn their child in the privacy of their home. They were told that all the formalities were complete and late that night they were forced to cremate their daughter. The TMC leaders of the area, without the family’s permission had signed the crematorium papers.

The entire process was a violation of the law, it was an assault on the rights of a family of a victim of rape and murder, it was murder of humanity. All this was done by top officials directly under the leadership of the TMC government and chief minister. This is what the BJP chief minister of Uttar Pradesh had done in the Hathras case – forcibly cremated the victim of rape and murder despite the protests of her family. That this should happen in Bengal only underlines that the TMC government had something to hide.

From then till now the parents and family have resisted multiple level pressures and never compromised in their fight for justice for their daughter. This tremendous courage of the parents and family has inspired the thousands who throng the streets with the slogan of “we want justice.” Their role, quiet, dignified, strong, full of integrity, is one of the most important reasons why the struggle goes on. They have extended their support to the struggle of junior doctors on a ten point charter. The mother says “these are important demands for the safety and security of other young women like my daughter. No other woman should face such a horror in her place of work. She died, but others will live if the demands are met.”

AND MOST IMPORTANTLY – THE VICTIM

She was their only daughter. The mother says that since she was a young girl – in class 3 or 4, she had always wanted to be a doctor. The family was dependent on the small earnings of her father, who started as a tailor and now has a small enterprise stitching school uniforms. Tilotamma went to a local Bengali medium school, a quiet child concentrating on her studies to achieve her dream of becoming a doctor. Those were hard days financially for the family, but her parents did not let anything come in the way of their daughter’s studies and tuitions to prepare herself for MBBS admissions. It was a most joyful day for the family when she got admission to the MBBS course in Kalyani Medical college having passed her exams at the first effort. She had earned her MBBS with a special interest in pulmonology.

It was a coincidence that it was at this time that the Covid epidemic spread. For the two years between her passing her MBBS and getting admission into RG Kar college, this young woman dedicated herself to helping Covid patients. Her mother says that if a patient was particularly nervous, Tilottama would drive over to see the patient and reassure them. She herself got Covid three times – a measure of her devotion and dedication to her patients. The mother tells me that the day before my visit, a sick senior citizen who Tilottama had looked after as a junior doctor in RG Kar hospital, came from a great distance to meet the parents and tell them how their precious daughter had helped save his life. Since her death, over the last two months, scores of such patients treated by Tilottama have visited the parents and paid tribute. Her colleagues have told her parents that among all of them Tilottama worked the hardest, extending her duty hours voluntarily to look after a particularly unwell patient.

It is such a young woman, dedicated to her profession as a doctor to save lives and serve the sick, who was brutally raped and murdered – an institutional crime enabled by a corrupt nexus.

It is justice for her that is and must continue to be the focus of the unique struggle being waged under the leadership of her colleagues – junior doctors who have put their own careers on line in her name. More strength to them, more strength to the united struggle!