Drawing on the multiple cases of communalised sexual violence against Muslim, Christian, Dalit, and Adivasi women across India, Brinda Karat’s latest book, titled Hindutva and Violence Against Women, is a bone-chilling read. Brinda Karat, a founding member of the All India Democratic Women’s Association (AIDWA), one of the largest women organisations in India, and a member of the Politburo of the Communist Party of India (Marxist), explores how ‘Hindutva’ serves as a framework for socio-political dynamics.
The author skillfully interlaces the historical context with ongoing realities to delve into the complex relationships between ideology, nationalism, and gender-based violence in India today. She makes it clear in the introduction that the changing dimensions of violence in India do not always indicate the emergence of something ‘new.’ Rather, they represent an intensified manifestation of existing detrimental and frequently adverse trends. Various factors contribute to these trends becoming dominant, ultimately leading to significant shifts in the landscape of violence.
As each chapter progresses, the book offers a comprehensive examination of various instances of sexual violence against women that have been driven by the Hindutva ideology that is propagated by the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) and executed by their political arm, the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP). The author defines it as Manuvadi Majoritarianism. The book looks at how women are caught in the crossfire of communal tensions and patriarchal structures that breed this majoritarian ideology. Case studies ranging from mob violence to marital rape illustrate how societal expectations and nationalist fervour can exacerbate the vulnerabilities faced by women.
The author analyses well-known incidents that have sparked widespread media coverage and political debate. But what really stands out is the documentation gathered by the AIDWA, which provides in-depth testimonies that reveal the extent of the brutality together with accentuating the extraordinary resilience of the women and their families. These accounts reveal their unyielding will to never give up and their unrelenting pursuit of survival and justice.
While marking the fearless fight of these women and their families against sexual violence, the author digs deeper into the wider problems that underlie this pervasive issue. She investigates the societal norms, ideological influences, and systemic structures that validate such violence, revealing how deeply ingrained patriarchal values and institutional complicity contribute to its persistence.
Throughout the history of far-right movements, regimes have been themed around a range of repressive measures, one of the most heinous being the use of sexual violence against women as a tool of fear and control. The oppressive nature of far-right regimes toward women, particularly within the context of the RSS in India, arises from a confluence of ideological, social, and structural factors.
The RSS-sponsored Hindutva project, aimed at establishing Hindu Rashtra, enforces rigid gender roles that define women primarily as mothers and caretakers. As the author points out, in this framework women are seen as symbols of cultural purity or as vessels for future generations, leading to their objectification and marginalisation in society. This objectification of women further perpetuates a culture where their bodies are viewed as tools for asserting control.
Sexual violence is wielded not only to target individuals but also to instil fear within entire communities. Minority women, particularly those from Muslim, Christian, Dalit, and Adivasi communities, experience violence that is both gendered and communal. In order to explain this, Karat explains the nuances of a number of cases, starting from the Gujarat pogrom of 2002. She then takes the reader through the ethnic cleansing taking place in Manipur, bringing up the case of 1992 of Bhwari Devi and discussing a number of other notorious incidents of extreme violence against women.
Over the past decade, the rule of the BJP, underpinned by the RSS, has catalysed acute changes in governance, steering India toward a model defined by Manuvadi Majoritarianism. Since its founding in 1925, the RSS, along with its female counterpart, Rashtra Sevika Samiti, established in 1936, has been promoting a Hindutva eco-system. Together, these organisations have steadily expanded their influence, reshaping societal norms and the political landscape in their quest for a uniform national identity.
The author paints a striking picture of the hierarchical structure of this ecosystem that includes the Prime Minister, RSS leaders, Chief Ministers in BJP-ruled states, local MLAs, community leaders, police officers, lawyers, and judges. Together, they reinforce the principles of this far-right regime, forming a network that systemically advances its agenda.
This intricate web of influence seeps into everyday life, creating an environment where justice is served or prioritised to one religious’ identity. Bilkis Bano’s case serves as a poignant example. The timeline of her struggle for justice has been painfully drawn out, revealing the contrasting responses to violence against women based on their religious identity. While the 2012 Nirbhaya case resulted in swift justice (undoubtedly justice should have been served swiftly) for an ‘upper’ caste Hindu woman, Bilkis’s plight, stemming from a 2001 incident, has remained unresolved for years. The perpetrators of Nirbhaya, who came from Dalit and impoverished backgrounds, were subjected to harsh treatment, while the Brahmin criminals involved in Bilkis Bano’s case were shielded, suggesting that Brahmins could not commit crimes. This bias was evident in the way they were celebrated within the Hindutva ecosystem.
The book explores how state mechanisms are systematically deployed against victims and survivors of violence. This majoritarian culture not only legitimises the oppression of marginal sections but also cultivates a societal environment that normalizes violence against women. State institutions such as the police and judiciary function as tools of oppression rather than protection, reinforcing the power dynamics that favor perpetrators over victims. Although this is very evident throughout the case studies, the Hathras incident emerges as a particularly compelling example.
The book also critically examines how media and social media shape societal views on gender-based violence. Through various case studies, it reveals how these narratives can reinforce stereotypes and lead to public desensitisation. The book advocates for responsible journalism that accurately captures the complexities of violence against women and challenges harmful narratives. Additionally, it also highlights how social media platforms are used to propagate misinformation and statistics that fuel a culture of violence, particularly within a Manuvadi Majoritarian framework.
Manuvadi Majoritarianism constructs an ideology that views certain identities as inherently superior, justifying violence against those labeled as "other" in the name of societal stability. This ideology is intertwined with a form of nationalism that is exclusionary. It promotes the notion that true patriotism is synonymous with Hindu identity, resulting in the demonisation of those who do not fit this narrow narrative. This portrayal of non-Hindu communities as "other" cultivates a climate of intolerance and division. In Manipur, this has manifested in barbaric mass sexual violence on women, particularly concerning the Kuki and Zomi tribes, who are labeled as intruders from Myanmar by proponents of the Hindutva eco-system. These communities have become targets of unspeakable brutality.
This ideological backdrop creates an unsettling complicity, where women aligned with this far-right regime actively defend the perpetrators of violence. This mirrors patterns seen in other extremist movements; in the White Supremacist movement in the United States, women justified racial violence as a means of preserving cultural heritage; in Nazi Germany, women were co-opted into enforcing Aryan ideals, participating in the oppression of others; and in fundamentalist Islamic societies, women have seen upholding patriarchal norms, justifying violence as a defense of honour. In India, women associated with the RSS and its affiliates have been known to justify crimes against women, dehumanising and demonising victims, survivors, and their families. They go as far as to incite violence, including calls for rape.
What sets the Hindutva ecosystem apart from other far-right ideologies that brazenly flaunt their male-centric, regressive beliefs is its clever façade. At the top of this hierarchy, the Prime Minister champions the idea of Nari Shakti in his speeches, portraying an image of progressiveness. Yet, beneath this surface lies a more insidious agenda: while this rhetoric seems to empower women, it simultaneously enables the RSS to create an atmosphere within its shakhas that nurtures a culture of hate. This duplicitous strategy not only distorts the narrative around women’s empowerment but also seeks to cultivate women who unwittingly uphold the very ideologies that erode their own rights and freedoms, ensnaring them in a relentless cycle of complicity and oppression. Thus, the guise of empowerment masks a deeper effort to control and manipulate women within a patriarchal framework.
Despite the harsh realities she presents, Karat emphasises the resilience and resistance of women throughout history. She stresses the importance of solidarity and activism in dismantling oppressive structures, advocating for a redefined feminist movement that confronts both patriarchy and communalism. Karat reminds us that women have played vital roles in India’s freedom struggle and in defending the values of the Constitution, secularism, democracy, and social justice. She concludes by asserting that true empowerment of women—nari shakti—cannot be realized without upholding these fundamental principles.
